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Queen. What have I done, that thou dar it wag In noise so rude against me ?

[tongue Ham. Such an act, That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ; Calls virtue hypocrice ; takes off the rose From the fair torehead of an innocent love, And fets a blister there ; makes marriage vows As false as dicers' oaths. Oh, such a deed, As from the body of contraction * plucks The very foul, and sweet religion makes A rhapfody of words Heav'n's face doth glow O'er this folidity and compound mass With tristful vilage and, as 'gainst the doom, Is thought-lick ai the act.

Queen Ay me! what act ?

Ham. That roars six loud, it thunders to the Indies, Look here upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. " See, what a grace was seated on this brow ;

Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself t; An eye, like Mars, to threaten or command ; " A station , like the herald Mercury “ New.lighted on a heaven killing hill; " A combination, and a form indeed, “ Where every god did seem to fet his seal, “ To give the world assurance of a man. ". This was your husband.- Look you now, what fol" Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear, [lows;

blasting bis wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor ? ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it love ; for, at your age, The hey-day in the blood is tame, 'tis humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this ? Sense, fure, you have, Elle could you not have notion : but, fure, that seule Is apoplex'd : for madnels would cot err ;

Contraction, for marriage-contrift. † Alieding to the description of Phidias's Jup'ter from Homer.

# Station here signifies an attitude, a lilent posture, fixed demeaner of person, in oppolition to an active buhaviour,

Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrallid,
But it reserv'd fome quantity of choice
To serve in such a dif'rent.ll hat devil was't
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without fight,
Ears without hands or eyes, Tinelling fans all,
Or but a sickly part of one true fenfë
Could not so mope.-
O shame! where is thy blush? rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutiny in a matron's bones;
To faming youth let virtue he as wax,
And melt in her own fire Proclaim no shame,
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge;
Since froit itself as actively doth buro,
And reason panders will,

Queen. 0 Hamlet, fpeak no more.
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very foul,
And there I see such black and grained spots,
As will not leave their tiret,

Ham. Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an incestuous bed,
Stew'd in.corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nalty ity-

Queen. Oh, speak no more ;
These words like daggers enter in mine ears.
No more, tweet Hamlet.

Ham. A murtherer, and a villain !
A llave, that is not twentieth part the title
Cf your precedent lord. A vice of Kings ;
A curpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from his shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket.
Queen. No'more.

Enter Ghufi.
Ham. A king of shreds and patches-
Save me ! and hover o'er me with your wings,

[Starting up. " You heav'nly guards !--- What would your gracious

" figure ? Queen, Alas, he's mad. Ham. Do you not come your tardy fon to chide,

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" That laps'd in time and pallisa, lets go by
“ Th’iinportant acting of your dread co:rmand?
4 (ộ Tay !”

Ghost. Do not forget : this visitation
Is but to what thy almost blunced purpose;
B'it look; amazeinent on thy mother sits;
() step between her and her fighting foul ::
Conceit in weakest bodies (trolgelt works.
Speak to her, Hamlet.

Ham. How is it with you, Lady ?
Queen. Alas, how is't with


? That thus you bend your eye on vacancy; And with th’incorporal air do hold discourse ?" Forth at your eyes your ipirits wildly peep, And, as the sleeping foldiers in th' alarm, Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements Start up, and stand on end. gentle fon, Upon the beat and Aime of thy Jiste riper Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look ! llam.." On him! on him!. look you, how pale:

“ he glares ! “ His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, “ Would make them capabile. Do not look on me, " Left with this piteous action you convert " My Itern effects ;: then what I hare to do, Will want true.colour; tears, perchance, for blood.

Queen. To who.n do you speak this ?.
Ham. Do you see nothing ther:?:

[Pointing to the Ghost.
Queen. Nothing at all; yet all that is, I fee.
Hum. Nor did you nothing hear?
Queen. No, nothing but ourselves.

Ham. Why, look you there! look how it steals a-My father in his habit as he lived !

[way! Look where he goes ev'n now, out at the portal.

[Exit. Gheli. Queen This is the very coinage of your brain, This bodiless creation ecitaly, Is very cunning in..

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* The hairs are excrementisinuis, that is, without life or finsa. tion : yet thuse very hairs, as if ihcy liad life, Itart up, °C,

Ham. What ecstasy?
- My pulse, as your's, doth temp'rately keep time,
• And make as healthful music. 'Tis not madness
" That I have utter'd ; bring me to the test,
4. And I the maller will re-word; which madness
" Would gainbel from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay r.ot that flattering unction to your soul,
'I hat not your trespass, but my madres speaks..
It will but skin and filin the ulcerous place;
Whilft rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Conless yourself to heav'n;
Kepent what's past, avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compolt on the weeds
'To make itcai ranker. Forgive me this my virtue ;
For, in the futnefs of these purly times,
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,
Yea, courb, and wooe, for leave to do it good.
Queen, Oh Hamlet! thou hast cleft my heart is

Ham. O, throw away the worfer part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Good night;,


not to mine uncle's bed. Affume a virive, if you have it not.

hat monster Custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits evil, is angel yet in this; That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock, or livery, That aptly is put on: refrain to-night ; And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence: the next, more easy; For use can almost change the stanıp of nature, Ard malier evin the devil, or throw him out With wondrous potency. Once more, good nighet And when you are delirous to be blessid, I'll blefling beg of you. For this fame Lord,

[Pointing to Polonius I do repent: but heav'n hath pleas'd it 10, To punish ır.e with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will beltow him, and will answer well The death I gave him, so again good night! laust be cruel, only to be kind;

you his


Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

Queen. What all I do?
Hani. Not this by no means that I bid


do, Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed; Pinch wanton on your

cheek ;

And let him, for a pair of reechy kiles,
Or padling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
Make you to revel all this matter out,
That I effentially am not in madness,
But mast in craft. "Twere good you let him kno:v. ?
For who that's but a Queen, fair, fober, wife,
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gibbe,
Such dear concernings hide? who woula do 1o?
No, in defpight of fenfe and secrecy,
Unpeg the bulket on the house's top,
Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape,
To try conclufions, in the basket creep ;
And break your own neck down.

Queen. Be thou allur'd, if words be made of brea:lt; And breath of life, I have no life to breathe What thou hast said to me, Han. I must to England, you know that ?

Queen Alack, I had forgót; ?tis so concluded on.
Ham. There's letters seal'd, and ny two school-fel-
(W'hom I will trust, as I wail adders fang’d)it [lows,
They bear the mandate : they must sweep my way,
And marshal me to knavery: let it work,
“ For 'tis the sport, to have the engineer
“ Hoist with his own petar; and 't shall go hard,
But I will delve.one yard below their mines,
And blow them at the moon. 0, 'tis most sweet,
When in one line two crafts directly meel?
This man thall let me packing;
I'll lug the guts into the neighbour-room;
Mother, good night.- Indeed, this counsellor
Is now molt lill, most secret, and most

Who was in life a foolish prating knave.
Come, Sir, to draw toward an end with you.
Good night, mother.

[Exit Hamlet, tugging in Polonius,

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