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SCENE I.

ACT IH.

The palace.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincrantz Guildenstern, ana Lords.

ND can you by no drift of conference

King. A

Get from him why he puts on this confufion, Grating fo haríhly all his days of quiet,

With turbulent and dang`rous lunacy?

Rof. He does confefs, he feels himself distracted :: But from what caufe, he will by no means fpeak.

Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be founded; . But with a crafty madness keeps aloof,

When we would bring him on to fome confeffion
Of his true ftate.

Queen. Did he receive you well?

Rof. Moft like a gentleman.

Guil, But with much forcing of his difpofition. Rof. Molt free of question, but of our demands Niggard in his reply.

Queen. Did you affay him to any paftime?

Ref. Madam, it to tell out, that certain players
We o'er rode on the way; of these we told him :
And there did seem in him a kind of joy
To hear of it: they are about the court;
And (as I think) they have already order
This night to play before him.

Pol.'Tis most true:

And he befeech'd me to intreat your Majefties

To hear and fee the matter.

King With all my heart, and it doth much content

To hear him to inclin'd.

Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,

And drive his purpose on to thefe delights.
Rof. We fhall, my Lord.

King. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;
For we have closely fent for Hamlet hither.
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
Affront Ophelia. Her father, and myself,
Will so bestow ourselves, that feeing, unfeen,

[me

[Exeunt,

We may of their encounter frankly judge;
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If t be th' affliction of his love, or no,
That thus he suffers for.

Queen. I thall obey you.

And for my part, Ophelia, I do wish,

That your good beauties be the happy caufe

Of Hamlet's wildness: fo fhall I hope your virtues
May bring him to his wonted way again,

To both your honours.

Oph. Madam, I wish it may.

[Exit Queen.

Pol. Ophelia, walk you here-Gracious, fo please We will be tow ourselves- -Read on this book: [ye That fhew of fuch an exercife may colour

Your loneliness.

We're oft to blame in this,

'Tis too much prov'd, that with devotion's visage, And pious action, we do fugar o er

The devil himself.

King. Oh, 'tis too true.

How smart a lafh that fpeech doth give my confcience !
The harlot's cheek, beautied with plaft'ring art,

Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,
Than is my deed to my moft painted word.

Oh heavy burthen!

[Afide.

Pol. I hear him coming; let's withdraw, my Lord.

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Ham "To be, or not to be? that is the question."Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer

"The flings and arrows of outrageous fortune;
"Or to take arms against affail of troubles,

"And by oppofing end them?-To die,-to fleep-
"No more; and by a fleep, to fay, we end
"The heart ache, and the thouland natural fhocks
"That flesh is heir to ; 'tis a confummation
"Devoutly to be wish'd. To dieto fleep-

"To fleep? perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub---
"For in that fleep of death what dreams may come,,
"When we have thuffled off this mortal coil,
"Muft give us paufe. There's the refpecl*
"That makes calamity of fo long life.

refpelt, for confideration, motives

"For who would bear the whips and scorns of th' time, "Th' oppreffor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, "The pang of despis'd love, the law`s delay, "The infolence of office, and the fpurps "That patient merit of th' unworthy takes; "When he himself might his quietus make

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With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, "To grone and sweat under a weary life;

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But that the dread of fomething after death
(That undiscover'd country, from whole bourne
" No traveller returns) puzzles the will;

"And makes us rather bear thofe ills we have,
"Than fly to others that we know not of?
"Thus confcience does make cowards of us all :
"And thus the native hue of refolution
"Is ficklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
"And enterprises of great pith and moment,
"With this regard their currents turn awry,
"And lofe the name of action -Soft

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you, now! [Seeing Oph. The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orifons Be all my fins remembred.

Oph. Good my Lord,

How does your Honour for this many a day?
Ham. I humbly thank you, well;

Oph. My Lord, I have remembrances of your's,
That I have longed long to re-deliver.

I pray you, now receive them:

Ham. No, I never gave you aught.

Oph. My honour'd Lord, you know right well you did;

And with them words of lo fweat breath compos'd,

As made the things more rich that perfume loft,
Take these again; for to the roble mind

Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind.
There, my Lord.

Ham. Ha, ha! are you honeft ?

Oph. My Lord.

Ham. Are you fair?

Oph What means your Lordship?

Ham. That if you be honeft and fair, you should admit no difcourie to your beauty.

Oph. Could beauty, my Lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will fooner transform honefly from what it is. to a bawd, than the force of honey can tranflate beauty into its likeness. This was fometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.

Oph. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe so.

Ham. You fhould not have believed me. For virtue cannot fo inoculate our old flock, but we thall relish of I lov'd you not.

it.

Oph. I was the more deceiv'd.
Ham. Get thee to a nunnery.

Why wouldst thou be a breeder of finners? I am myfelt indifferent honest; but yet I could accufe me of fuch things, that it were better my mother had not born me. I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in name, imagination to give them fhape, or time to act them in. What fhould fuch fellows as I do crawling between heav'n and earth? we are arrant knaves, believe none of usGo thy ways to a nunnery- Where's your father? Oph. At home, my Lord.

Farewel.

Ham. Let the doors be fhut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own houfe, Oph. Oh help him, you fweet heav'ns!

Ham. If thou doft marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Be thou as chaite as ice, as pure as fnow, thou shalt not efcape calumny-Get thee to a nunnery farewel Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wife men know well enough, what monsters you make of them-To a nunnery, go—— and quickly too: farewel

Oph. Heav'nly powers, reftore him!

Ham. I have heard of your painting too, well enough. God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you amble, and you lifp, and nick. name God's creatures, and make your wantonnels your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I fay, we will have no more marriages. Thole that are married already, all but one, thall live;

the reft fhall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. [Exit Hamlet. Oph. "Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! "The courtier's, fcholar's, foldier's, eye, tongue, fword! "Th' expectancy and rofe of the fair state,

"The glafs of fashion, and the mould of form, "Th'obferv'd of all observers, quite, quite down! I am of ladies most deject and wretched, That fuck'd the honey of his music vows : "Now fee that noble and most sovereign reafon, "Like fweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh; "That unmatch'd form, and feature of blown youth, "Blasted with ecftafy Oh, woe is me,

T' have feen what I have feen, fee what I fee!

SCENE III. Enter King and Polonius.
King. Love! his affections do not that way tend;
Nor what he spoke, tho' it lack d form a little,
Was not like madnefs. Something's in his foul,
O'er which his melancholy fits on brood;
And, 1 do doubt, the hatch and the difclofe
Will be fome danger, which, how to prevent,
I have in quick determination

Thus fet it down. He fhall with speed to England,
For the demand of our neglected tribute :
Haply the feas, and countries different,
With variable objects, fhall expel

This fomething-fettled matter in his heart;
Whereon his brains ftill beating, put him thus
From fathion of himself. What think you on't?
Pol. It fhall do well. But yet do I believe,
The origin and commencement of this grief
Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia ?
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet faid,
We heard it all.My Lord, do as you please;
[Exit Ophelia.

But if you hold it fit, after the play

Let his Queen-mother all alone intreat him

To fhew his griefs; let her be round with him:
And I'll be plac'd, so please you, in the ear
Of all their conf'rence. If the find him not,
To England fend him; or confine him, where
Your wisdom best shall think.

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