Ham. 'Tis as eafy as lying; govern these ventiges with your fingers and thumb; give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent mufic. Look you, these are the flops.

Guil, But thefe cannot I command to any utterance of harmony; I have not the skill.

Ham. " Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me; you would play upon me, you "would feem to know my ftops; you would pluck out "the heart of my mystery; you would found me from 66 my lowest note, to the top of my compass; and there " is much mufic, excellent voice, in this little organ, "yet cannot you make it speak. Why, do you think "that I am easier to be play'd on than a pipe! call me what inftrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me,” God bless you, Sir.

Enter Polonius.

Pol. My Lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.

Ham. Do you fee yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?

Pol. By the mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed,

Ham. Methinks it is like an ouzle.

Pol. It is black like an ouzle.

Ham. Or like a whale?

Pol. Very like a whale.

Ham. Then will I come to my mother by and by— they fool me to the top of my bent.I will come by and by,

Pol. I will fay fo.

Ham. By and by is eafily faid. Leave me, friends..

[Exeunt. "'Tis now the very witching time of night, "When church-yards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot "And do fuch bufinefs as the better day Lblood, "Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mo. "O heart, lofe not thy nature; let not ever [ther"The foul of Nero enter this firm bofom; "Let me be cruel, not unnatural.

I will speak daggers to her, but ufe none.

My tongue and foul in this be hypocrites;
How in my words foever fhe be fhent,

To give them feals * never my soul confent!

[Exit.

Enter King, Rofincrantz, and Guildenstern.

King. I like him not, nor stands it fafe with us
To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you.
I your commiffion will forthwith dispatch,
And he to England fhall along with you.
The terms of our estate may not endure
Hazard fo near us, as doth hourly grow
Out of his lunacies.

Guil. We will provide ourfelves;
Most holy and religious fear it is,
To keep those many bodies safe,
That live and feed upon your Majesty.

Rof. The fingle and peculiar life is bound,
With all the ftrength and armour of the mind,
To keep itself from noyance; but much more,
That fpirit on whole weal depends and refts
The lives of many. The ceafe of Majesty
Dies not alone, but, like a gulph, doth draw
What's near it with it 'Tis a maffy wheel
Fix'd on the fummit of the highest mount,
To whofe huge spokes ten thoutand leffer things
Are mortiz'd and adjoin'd; which when it falls,
Each fmall anexment, petty confequence,
Attends the boift'rous ruin. Ne'er alone
Did the King figh, but with a general groan.

King Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; For we will fetters put upon this fear,

Which now goes too free-tooted.

Both. We will hatte us.

Enter Polonius.

[Exeunt Gentlemen.

Pol. My Lord, he's going to his mother's clofet ;

Behind the arras I'll convey myself

To hear the process: l'u warrant fhe'll tax him home, And, as you faid, and wifely was it faid,

* i. e. put them in execution.

'Tis meet that fome more audience than a mother
(Since Nature makes them partial) fhould o'er hear
The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my Liege:

I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,
And tell you what I know.

King. Thanks, dear my Lord.

Oh! my offence is rank, it fmells to heav'n,
It hath the primal, eldest curfe upon't;
A brother's murther- -Pray I cannot :
Though inclination be as fharp as will,
My fironger guilt defeats my strong intent;
And like a man to double bufinefs bound,
• I stand in pause where I shall first begin,

[Exit.

And both neglect. What if this curfed hand • Were thicker than itfelf with brother's blood? • Is there not rain enough in the fweet heav'ns To wash it white as fnow? whereto ferves mercy, • But to confront the vifage of offence?

And what's in prayer, but this twofold force,

• To be foreltalled ere we come to fall,

• Or pardon'd being down? then I'll look up;

• My fault is past.

-But ob, what form of prayer

• Can ferve my turn? Forgive me my foul murther !— That cannot be, fince I am still poffefs'd

• Of those effects for which I did the murther,

My crown, mine own ambition, and my Queen. • May one be pardoned, and retain th' offence ? • In the corrupted currents of this world,

• Offence's gilded hand may fhove by justice; And oft 'tis feen, the wicked prize itself

Buys out the law. But 'tis not so above. There is no shuffling; there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourfelves compell'd, • Ev'n to the teeth and forehead of our faults, • To give in evidence. What then? what refts? Try what repentance can: what can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? Oh wretched ftate! oh bosom black as death! Oh limed foul, that, ftruggling to be free, Art more engag'd! Help, angels! make affay! Bow, ftubborn knees; and, heart, with ftrings of steel,

Be foft as finews of the new-born babe !

All may be well.

SCENE

[The King retires, and kneels.

IX. Enter Hamlet.

Ham. "Now might I do it pat, now he is praying, "And now I'll do't--and to he goes to heav'n.— "And fo am I reveng'd? that would be fcann'd; "A villain kills my father, and for that

"I, his fole fon, do this fame villain fend

"To heav'n-O, this is hire and falary, not revenge. "He took my father grofsly, full of bread

"With all his crimes broad blown, as fluth as May; "And how his audit stands, who knows, fave heaven? "But in our circumstance and courfe of thought, "'Tis heavy with him Am I then reveng'd,

66

To take him in the purging of his foul, "When he is fit and feafon'd for his paffage?

66

Up, fword, and know then a more horrid bent; When he is drunk, afleep, or in his rage, "Or in th' incestuous pleature of his bed; "At gaming, fwearing, or about fome act "That has no relifh of falvation in't ;

Than trip him, that his heels may kick at heav'n ; "And that his foul may be as damn'd and black As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays: This phyfic but prolongs thy fickly days.

86

The King rifes, and comes forward.

[Exit.

King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. [Exit.

SCENE X. Changes to the Queen's apartment. Enter Queen and Polonius.

Pol He will come ftraight; look you lay home to
him;

Tell him, his pranks have been too broad to bear with;
And that your Grace hath fcreen'd, and stood between
Much heat and him. I'll fconce* me ever here:
;
Pray you be round with him.

Ham. [within.] Mother, mother, mother.

i. e, infconce, to cover or fecure.

Queen. I'll warrant you, fear me not." Withdraw, I hear him coming.

[Polonius hides himself behind the arras.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter?

Queen. Hamlet, thou haft thy father much offended. Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended. Queen. Come, come, you anfwer with an idle tongue. Ham. Go, go, you queftion with a wicked tongue. Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet?

Ham. What's the matter now?

Queen, Have you forgot me ?

Ham. No, by the rood, not so;

You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife ;
But ('would you were not fo) you are my mother.
Queen. Nay, then I'll fet thofe to you that can speak.
Ham. Come, come, and fit you down; you shall not
You go not, till I fet you up a glass
[budge:
Where you may fee the inmoft part of you.

Queen. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murther me? Help, ho.

Poi. What ho, help.

Ham. How now, a rat? dead for a ducat, dead.

Pol. Oh, I am flain.

[Behind the arras.

[Hamlet kills Polonius.

Queen. Oh me, what haft thou done?

Ham Nay, I know not: is it the King?

Queen. Oh, what a rafh and bloody deed is this! Ham. A bloody deed; almost as bad, good mother, As kill a King, and marry with his brother, Queen. As kill a King?

Ham. Ay, Lady, 'twas my word.

Thou wretched, rafh, intruding fool, farewel,

[To Polonius.

I took thee for thy betters; take thy fortune;
Thou find it, to be too busy, is fome danger.
Leave wringing of your hands; peace, fit you down,
And let me wring your heart, for to I fhall,

If it be made of penetrable stuff.

If damned custom have not braz'd it so,
That it is proof and bulwark against sense.