A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket!

Queen-No more!

Hamlet-A king of shreds and patches,

[Enter GHOST.]

Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,

You heavenly guards!-What would your gracious figure?

Queen-Alas! he's mad!

Hamlet-Do you not come your tardy son to chide, That, laps'd in time and passion, lets go by The important acting of your dread command? O, say!

Ghost-Do not forget. This visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul;
Speak to her Hamlet.

Hamlet-How is it with you, lady?
Queen-Alas, how is't with you,

That you do bend your eye on vacancy

And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?

O gentle son,

Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper

Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
Hamlet-On him, on him! Look you, how pale he
glares!

His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;
Lest with this piteous action you convert

My stern effects; then what I have to do
Will want true color; tears perchance for blood.
Queen-To whom do you speak this?
Hamlet-Do you see nothing there?
Queen-Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

Hamlet-Nor did you nothing hear?

Queen-No, nothing but ourselves.

Hamlet-Why, look you there! look, how it steals

away!

My father, in his habit as he liv'd!

Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!

[Exit Ghost.]

Queen-This is the very coinage of your brain;

This bodiless creation ecstasy

Is very cunning in.

Hamlet-Ecstasy!

My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful music: it is not madness
That I have utter'd; bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word, which madness
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass but my madness speaks;
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come.

Queen-O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart is twain.

Hamlet-0, throw away the worser part of it,

And live the purer with the other half.

For this same lord,

I do repent;

[Pointing to Polonius.]

I will bestow him, and will answer well
The death I gave him-So, again, good night.
I must be cruel, only to be kind;

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

SHAKSPEARE

QUEEN MARY.

ACT V. SCENE V.

London. A room in the palace. Mary. Lady Clarence. Lady Magdalen Dacres. Alice. Queen pacing the gallery. A writing-table in front. Queen comes to the table and writes, and goes

again, still pacing the gallery.

Lady Clarence-Mine eyes are dim; what hath she written? Read.

Alice "I am dying, Philip. Come to me." Lady Magdalen-There, up and down, poor lady, up and down.

Alice-And how her shadow crosses, one by one, The moonlight casements pattern'd on the wall, Following her like her sorrow. She turns again.

[Queen sits and writes and goes again.] Lady Clarence-What hath she written now? Alice-Nothing but "Come, come, come," and all

awry,

And blotted by her tears. This cannot last.

[Queen returns.]

Mary-I whistle to the bird has broken cage,

And all in vain. [Sitting down.]

Calais gone. Guisnes gone, too-and Philip's gone!

Lady Clarence-Dear madam, Philip is but at the

wars;

I cannot doubt but that he comes again;
And he is with you in a measure still.
I never looked upon so fair a likeness
As your great king in armor there,

[Pointing to the portrait of Philip on the wall.]

Mary-Doth he not look noble?

I had heard of him in battle over seas,
And I would have my warrior all in arms.
He said it was not courtly to stand helmeted
Before the Queen. He had his gracious moments,
Altho' you'll not believe me. How he smiles,
As if he loved me yet!

Lady Clarence-And so he does.

Mary-He never loved me-nay, he could not love

me.

It was his father's policy against France.

I am eleven years older than he, poor boy. [Weeps.] Alice [aside]-That was a lusty boy of twenty-seven Poor enough in God's grace!

Mary-And all in vain!

The Queen of Scots is married to the Dauphin,
And Charles the lord of this low world is gone,
And all his wars and wisdom pass'd away,
And in a moment I shall follow him.

Lady Clarence-Nay, dearest lady, see your good physician.

Mary-Drugs-but he knows they do not help me

says

That rest is all-tells me I must not think-
That I must rest. I shall rest by and by.

Catch the wildcat, cage him, and when he

Springs and maims himself against the bars, say "rest!” Why, you must kill him if you would have him rest. Dead or alive you cannot make him happy.

Lady Clarence-Your majesty has lived so pure a life,

And done such mighty things by Holy Church,
I trust that God will make you happy yet.

Mary-What is this strange thing, happiness?
Sit down here;

Tell me thine happiest hour.

Lady Clarence-I will, if that

Will make your grace forget yourself a little.
There runs a shallow brook across our field
For twenty miles, where the black crow flies five,
And doth so bound and babble all the way
As if itself were happy. It was May-time,
And I was walking with the man I loved.
I loved him, but I thought I was not loved.
And both were silent, letting the wild brook
Speak for us-till he stoop'd and gather'd me
From out a bed of thick forget-me-nots,
Looked hard and sweet at me, and gave it me.
I took it, tho' I did not know I took it,
And put it in my bosom, and all at once
I felt his arms about me, and his lips-

Mary-O! God, I have been too slack, too slack.
There are Hot Gospellers even among our guards-
Nobles we dare not touch. We have but burnt
The heretic priest, workmen, and women and children.
Wet, famine, ague, fever, storms, wreck, wrath,
We have so played the coward; but by God's grace
We'll follow Philip's leading, and set up