King It fhall be fo:

Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. [Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players.

But

Ham. " Speak the fpeech, I pray you, as I pro "nounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue. "if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as "lieve the town-crier had fpoke my lines. And do not faw the air too much with your hand thus, but "ufe all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and,

as I may fay, whirlwind of your paffion, you must "acquire and beget a temperance that may give it "fmoothness. Oh, it offends me to the foul, to hear "a robufteous periwig.pated fellow tear a paffion to tatters, to very rags, to fplit the ears of the ground"lings; who (for the most part) are capable of nothing, but inexplicable dumb fhews and noife; I "could have fuch a fellow whipp'd for o'erdoing ter magant? it out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it. Play. I warrant your Honour.

Ham. "Be not too tame neither; but let your own "difcretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, "the word to the action, with this special obfervance, "that you o'erftep not the modefty of nature; for any thing fo overdone is from the purpofe of playing; "whofe end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature; to fhew vir"tue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the

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very age and body of the time, his form and preffure *. "Now, this overdone, or come tardy of, tho' it make "the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve the cenfure of one of which mußt in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. Oh, there "be players that I have feen play, and heard others "praife, ard that highly, (not to fpeak it profanely),

that neither having the accent of Christian, nor "the gate of Chriftian, Pagan, nor mant] have so "frutted and bellow'd, that I have thought fome of "nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well; they imitated humanity fo abon.inatly." preffure, for impreffion.

These words are a foolish interpolation.

Play. I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with

Ham "Oh, reform it altogether; and let thofe that play your clowns, fpeak no more than is fet down "for them: for there be of them that will themfelves laugh, to set on fome quantity of barren fpectators "to laugh too; though, in the mean time, fome neceffary queftion of the play be then to be confidered: "that's villanous, and fhews a most pitiful ambition in "the fool that uses it. Go make you ready."

66

SCENE

[Exeunt Players.

IV.

Enter Polonius, Rofincrantz, and Guildenstern..

How now, my Lord? will the King hear this piece of

work?

Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently.

Ham. Bid the players make hafte.

Will you two help to hasten them?
Both. We will, my Lord.

Ham. What, ho, Horatio!

Enter Horatio to Hamlet.

[Exit Polonius.

[Exeunt:

Hor. Here, fweet Lord, at your service. Ham Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man As e'er my converfation cop'd withal.

Hor. Oh, my dear Lord,

Ham." Nay, do not think I flatter:

"For what advancement may I hope from thee, "That no revenue haft, but thy good spirits,

"To feed and clothe thee? Should the poor be flat. "No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, [ter'd? "And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,

"Where thrift may follow fawning. Dolt thou hear? "Since my dear foul was miftrets of her choice, "And could of men distinguish, her election

"Hath feal'd thee for herfelf. For thou hast been "As one, in fuffering all, that fuffers nothing: "A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards

"Haft ta'en with equal thanks. And blefs'd are thʊfe, "Whose blood and judgment are so well comingled, VOL. VIII.

M

"That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger,
"To found what stop the pleafe. Give me that man
"That is not Paffion's flave, and I will wear him
"In my heart's core; ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.Something too much of this.-
There is a play to night before the King,
One fcene of it comes near the circumftance
Which I have told thee, of my father's death.
I pr'ythee, when thou feeft that act a-foot,
Ev'n with the very comment of thy foul
Obferve mine uncle if his occult guilt
Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
It is a damned ghoft that we have feen;
And my imaginations are as foul

As Vulcan's ftithy. Give him heedful note;
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face;

And, after, we will both our judgements join,
In cenfure of his feeming.

Hor. Well, my Lord.

If he fleal aught the whilft this play is playing,
And 'fcape detecting, I will pay the theft,

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincrantz, Guildenstern, and other Lords attendants, with a guard carrying torches. Danish march. Sound a flourish. Ham. They're coming to the play; I must be idle. Get you a place.

King. How fares our coufin Hamlet?

Ham. Excellent, i' faith, of the cameleon's dish :. I eat the air, promife-cramm'd: you cannot feed capons fo.

King I have nothing with this anfwer, Hamlet; these words are not mine. Ham. No, nor mine.

Now, my Lord; you` play'd once i' th' university, you say? [To Polonius. Pol. That I did, my Lord, and was accounted a good actor.

Ham. And what did you enact?

Pol I did enact Julius Cæfar, I was kill'd i' th' Capitol: Brutus kill'd me.

Ham. It was a brute part of him, to kill fo capital a alf there. Be the players ready?

Rof. Ay, my Lord, they stay upon your patience.
Queen Come hither, my dear Hamlet, fit by me.
Ham. No, good mother, here's mettle more
tractive.

Pol Oh ho, do you mark that?
Ham, Lady, fhall I lie in your lap?

Oph. No, my Lord.

at

[Lying down at Ophelia's feet.

Ham, I mean, my head upon your lap!

Oph. Ay, my Lord.

Ham Do you think I meant country-matters?

Oph. I think nothing, my Lord,

Ham. That's a fair thought, to lie between a maid's legs.

Oph. What is, my Lord?

Ham. Nothing.

Oph. You are merry, my Lord.

Ham, Who, 1?

Opha Ay, my Lord.

Ham. Oh God! your only jig-maker; what should, a man do but be merry? For, look you, how chearfulby my mother looks, and my father dy'd within these two hours.

Oph. Nay, 'tis two months, my Lord.

Ham. So long? nay, then let the devil wear black, 'fore I'll have a fuit of fable. Oh heav'ns! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet! then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches then; or else All he fuffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse; whofe epitaph is, For ob, for ob, the hobby-horse is forgot. SCENE VI. Hautboys play. The dumb fbew enters. Enter a Duke and Duchefs, with regal coronets, very lovingly; the Duchefs embracing him, and he her. She kneels; he take, her up, and declines his head upon her neck; be lays him down upon a bank of flowers; fhe feeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kiffes it, and pours poifon in the

Duke's ears, and exit. The Duchefs returns, finds the Duke dead, and makes passionate action. The poisoner, with fome two or three mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The poifoner wooes the Duchefs with gifts; fhe feems loth and unwilling a while, but in the end accepts his love. [Exeunt.

Oph. What means this, my Lord?

Ham. Marry, this is miching Malhechor; it means mifchief,

Oph. Belike this fhow imports the argument of the play?

Enter Prologue.

Ham. We fhall know by this fellow: the players cannot keep counfel, they'll tell all.

Oph. Will he tell us what this flow meant ?

Ham. Ay, or any fhow that you will fhew him. Be not you afhamed to fhew, he'll not fhame to tell you what it means.

Oph. You are naught, you are naught, I'H mark the play.

Prol. For us and for our tragedy,

Here ftooping to your clemency,
We beg your hearing patiently.

Ham. Is this a prologue, or the pofie of a ring?
Opb. 'Tis brief, my Lord.

Ham. As woman's love.

Enter Duke, and Duchefs, Player &.

Duke, Full thirty times hath Phoebus' car gone round Neptune's falt wash, and Tellus' orbed ground; And thirty dozen moons with borrowed theen. About the world have times twelve thirty been, Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands, Unite commutual, in meft facred bands.

Duch. So many journeys may the fun and moon Make us again count o'er ere love be done.

But woe is me you are fo fick of late,

So far from cheer and from your former state,