King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply; Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet Sits failing to my heart; in grace whereof, No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, But the great cannon to the clouds fhall tell; And the King's rowfe the heav n fhall bruit again, Refpeaking earthly thunder. Come, away. [Exeunt. Manet Hamlet.

SCENE III.

Ham. "Oh that this too too-folid flesh would melt, "Thaw, and refolve itself into a dew!

"Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

"His cannon 'gainst felf-flaughter! Oh God! oh God↓ "How weary, ftale, flat, and unprofitable, "Seem to me all the ufes of this world! "Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to feed; things rank, and grols in nature, "Poffefs it merely. That it should come to this! "But two months dead! nay, not so much; not two; "So excellent a King, that was, to this,

Hyperion to a fatyr: fo loving to my mother, "That he permitted not the winds of heav'n

"Vifit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth ! "Muft I remember-why, fhe would hang on him, "As if increase of appetite had grown

"By what it fed on; yet, within a month, "Let me not think-Frailty, thy name is Woman! "A little month! or ere thofe fhoes were old, "With which the follow'd my poor father's body, "Like Niobe, all tears- Why, fhe, ev'n fhe

(O heav'n! a beast that wants difcourfe of realon, "Would have mourn'd longer-) married with mine: uncle,

"My father's brother; but no more like my father,
"Than I to Hercules. Within a month !.

"Ere yet the falt of moft unrighteous tears
"Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes,
"She married-Oh, most wicked fpeed, to poft
With fuch dexterity * to incelłucus fheets!

dexterity, for quickness fimply,

It is not, nor it caunot come to good

But break, my heart, for I quit hold my tongue.

Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus.

Hor. Hail to your Lordship!

Ham. I am glad to fee you well;

Horatio, or I do forget myself.

Hor. The fame, my Lord, and your poor

fervant ever.

Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name
with you:

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
Marcellus !

Mar. My good Lord

Ham. I am very glad to fee you; good morning Sir.
But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg ?
Hor. A truant difpofition, good my Lord.
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say fo;
Nor fhall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself. I know you are no truant;
But what is your affair in Elfinoor?

We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
Hor. My Lord, I came to fee your father's funeral.
Ham. I pr'ythee,, do not mock me, fellow-tudent;
I think it was to fee my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my Lord, it follow'd hard upon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the funeral bak'd meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage-tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heav'n,
Or ever I had feen that day, Horatio!
My father-methinks I fee my father.
Hor. Oh where, my Lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

hor, I faw him once, he was a goodly King. Ham. He was a man, take him tor all in all, 1 fhall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My Lord, I think I faw him yesternight,
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My Lord, the King your father.
Ham. The King my father!

Hor. Seafon* your admiration but a while,
With an attentive ear; till I deliver,

Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had thefe gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encountred: A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points exactly, cap-à-pe,

Appears before them, and with folemn march
Goes flow and ftately by them; thrice he walk'd,
By their opprefs'd and fear-furprised eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilft they (diftill'd
Almoft to jelly with th' effect of fear)

Stand dumb, and speak not to him.

This to me
In dreadful fecrecy impart they did,

And I with them the third night kept the watch;
Where, as they had deliver'd both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes.

I knew your father:

Thefe hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

Hor. My Lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My Lord, I did;

But answer made it none, Yet once methought

It lifted up its head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak:

But even then the morning-cock crew loud;

And at the found it fhrunk in hafte away,

And vanifh'd from our fight.

Ham 'Tis very strange.

Her. As I do live, my honour'd Lord, 'tis true;

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me,

Hold you the watch to-night?

Both. We do, my Lord.

Ham. Arm'd, fay you?

Both. Arm'd, my Lord,

Ham. From top to toe?

Both. My Lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then faw you not his face?

Hor. Oh, yes, my Lord; he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. A count'nance more in forrow than in anger. Ham. Pale, or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Hor. Moft constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there!

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like. Staid it long?

Hor. While one with moderate hafte might tell a hundred.

Both. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I faw't.

Ham. His beard was grifl'd? no.

Hor. It was, as I have teen it in his life,

A fable filver'd.

Ham. I'll watch to night; perchance 'twill walk again.

Hor, I warrant you, it will.

Ham. If it affume my noble father's perfon, I'll speak to it, though hell itself thould gape, And bid me hold my peace.

I pray you all,

If you have hitherto conceal'd this fight,
Let it be ten'ble in your filence still :
And whatfoever fhall befal to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: fo fare ye well.
Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
I'll vifit you.

All. Our duty to your Honour.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: farewel.

My father's fpirit in arms! all is not well.

[Exeunt.

I doubt fome foul play: 'would the night were come! Till then fit ftill, my foul: foul deeds will rife

(Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them) to men's eyes.

[Exit.

Changes to an apartment in Polenius's house.
Enter Laertes and Ophelia.

Laer. My neceffaries are imbark'd, farewel;
And, fifter, as the winds give benefit,

And convoy is affiftant, do not fleep,

But let me hear from you.

Oph. Do you doubt that?

Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, "Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood;

"A violet in the youth of primy nature; "Forward, not permanent; tho' fweet, not lafting; "The perfume, and fuppliance of a minute;

No more

Oph. No more but fo?

Laer. Think it no more:

For nature crefcent does not grow alone
In thews and bulk; but, as this temple waxes,
The inward fervice of the mind and foul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now;
And now no foil of cautel doth befmerch
The virtue of his will: but you muft fear,
His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
For he himself is fubject to his birth.
He may not, as unvalued perfons do,
Carve for himfelf; for on his choice depends
The fafety and the health of the whole ftate:
And therefore ruft his choice be circumfcrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body

Whereof he's head. Then, if he fays he loves you, It fits your wifdom fo far to believe it,

As he in his peculiar act and place

May give his faying deed; which is no further,
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what lofs your honour may fuítain,
If with too credent ear you lif his fongs;

Or lofe your heart: or your chafte treasure open
To his unmatter'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear fifter ;

* yielding, for confent fimply.

tto believe, for to alt comformably to.