That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; beautified is a vile phrase; but you shall hear.—Thus :

In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.

Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?
Pol. Good madam, stay a while; I will be faith-
ful.-

Doubt thou, the stars are fire;
Doubt, that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt, I love.

[Reads.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adiev.

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst

this machine is to him, Hamlet.

This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me
And more above, hath his solicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
All given to mine ear.

King.

Receiv'd his love?

Pol.

But how hath she

What do think of me?
you

King. As of a man faithful and honourable.
Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might
you think,

When I had seen this hot love on the wing
(As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,
Before my daughter told me,) what might you,
Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
If I had play'd the desk, or table-book;
Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb;
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;
What might you think? no, I went round to work,
And my young mistress thus did I bespeak ;
Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere;

(1) Roundly, without reserve.

This must not be: and then I precepts gave her,
That she should lock herself from his resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;
And he, repulsed (a short tale to make,)
Fell into a sadness; then into a fast;

Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,

And all we mourn for.

King.

Do you think, 'tis this? Queen. It may be, very likely.

Pol. Hath there been such a time (I'd fain know that,)

That I have positively said, 'Tis so,

When it prov'd otherwise?

King.

Not that I know.

Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwise:

[Pointing to his head and shoulder.

If circumstances lead me, I will find

Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
Within the centre.

King.

How may we try it further? Pol. You know, sometimes he walks four hours together,

Here in the lobby.

Queen.

So he does, indeed.

Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to

him :

Be you and I behind an arras! then;

Mark the encounter: if he love her not,
And be not from his reason fallen thereon,
Let me be no assistant for a state,

But keep a farm, and carters.

King.

We will try it.

Enter Hamlet, reading.

Queen. But look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

(1) Tapestry.

Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away; I'll board' him presently :-O, give me leave.[Exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants.

How does my good lord Hamlet?

Ham. Well, god-'a-mercy.

Pol. Do you know me, my lord?

Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
Pol. Not I, my lord.

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Pol. Honest, my lord?

Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand. Pol. That's very true, my lord.

Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god, kissing carrion,daughter?

Pol. I have, my lord.

Ham. Let her not walk i'the sun

-Have you a

conception2 is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive,3— friend, look to't.

Pol. How say you by that? [Aside.] Still harping on my daughter :-yet he knew me not at first; he said, I was a fishmonger: He is far gone, far gone: and, truly, in my youth I suffered much extremity for love; very near this. I'll speak to him again.What do you read, my lord?

Ham. Words, words, words!

Pol. What is the matter, my lord?
Ham. Between who?

Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: All of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set (2) Understanding.

(1) Accost.

Be pregnant.

264

HAMLET,

down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I like a crab, you could go backward.

am, if,

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. [Aside. Will you walk out of the air, my lord? Ham. Into my grave? Pol. Indeed, that is out o'the air.-How preg nant' sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity? could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter.-My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of

you.

Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life.

Pol. Fare you well, my lord.
Ham. These tedious old fools!

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is.

Ros. God save you, sir!

Guil. My honour'd lord!—
Ros. My most dear lord!-

[To Polonius. [Exit Polonius

Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads,

how do ye both?

Guil. Happy, in that we are not overhappy;
Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth.

On fortune's cap we are not the very
Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?
Ros. Neither, my lord.

button.

Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the

middle of her favours?

Guil. 'Faith, her privates we.

true; she is a strumpet. What news? Ham. In the secret parts of fortune? O, most

(1) Ready, apt.

(2) Soundness of mind

Ros. None, my lord; but that the world is grown honest.

Ham. Then is doomsday near: But your news is not true. Let me question more in particular : What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, that she sends you to prison hither. Guil. Prison, my lord!

Ham. Denmark's a prison.

Ros. Then is the world one.

Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark being one of the worst.

Ros. We think not so, my lord.

Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you: for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it go to me it is a prison.

Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.

Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.

Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.

Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's shadow. Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies; and our monarchs, and outstretch'd heroes, the beggars' shadows: Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I

cannot reason.

Ros. Guil. We'll wait upon you.

Ham. No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest of my servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?

Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you; and sure, dear friends,

VOL. VIII.

M