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Ham, 'Tis as easy as lying ; govern these ventiges with your fingers and thumb; give it breach with your mouth, and it will discourse molt eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.
Guil, But these 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 seem to know my stops; you would pluck out " the heart of my mystery; you would found me froin
my loweft note, to the top of my compass; and there es is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, " yet caonot you make it speak. Why, do you think " that I am easier to be play'd on than a pipe! call one "what instrument you will, though you can tret 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 see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel ?
Pol. By the mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed,
Ham. Then will I come to my mother by and bythey fool me to the top of my bent:~I will come by
Pol. I will say fo.
[Exeunt. “ 'Tis now the very witching time of night, " When church-yards yawn, and hellitself breathes out
Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot " And do such business as the better day Lblood, " Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mo. “ O heart, lose not thy nature ; let not ever [ther6. The soul of Nero enter this firm bolom ; " Let me be cruel, not unnatural. I will speak daggers to her, but use. none.
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;
S CE N E VIII.
Therefore prepare you.
Guil. We will provide ourselves ;
Rof. I he single and peculiar life is bound,
Kinz. Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
Enter Polonius, Pol. My Lord, he's going to his mother's closet; Behind the arras I'll convey myself To hear the process: I'll warrant she'll tax him home, And, as you said, and wilely was it said,
* i. e, put them in execution.
'Tis meet that fome more audience than a mother (Since Nature makes them partiat) should 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.
[Exit. King. Thanks, dear iny Lord. • Oh! my offence is rank, it smells to heav'n,
It hath the primal, eldelt curfe upon't ; i A brother's murther- -Pray I cannor :
Though inclination be as sharp as will, • My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; « And like a man to double business bound, • I stand in pause where I shalt first begin, • And both negle&t. What if this curied hand « Were thicker than itfelf with brother's blood ? • Is there not rain enougk in the tweet hear'as
To wash it white as fnow? whereto ferves mercy, • But to confront the visage 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 paft.-----but ob, what form of prayer . Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murther!. That cannot be, since I am still possessid • Of those effects for which I did the marther, • My crown, mine own ambition, and my Queen, • May one he pardoned, and retain ch' offence ? • In the corrupted currents of this world, • Offence’s gilded hand may thove by justice;
And oft 'tis feen, the wicked prize itfelf • Buys out the law. But 'tis not so above. • Tbere is no shuffling; there the action lies • In his true nature, and we ourfelves compellid, · Ev'n to the teech and forehead of our faults, • To give in evidence. What then? what rests ? Try what repentance can: what can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? Oh wretched ftate ! oh bolom black as death! Oh limed foul, that, itruggling to be free, Art more engag'd! Help, angels ! make affay ! Bow, Itubborn knees; and, heart, with strings of steel,
Be soft as finews of the new-born babe !
SCENE IX. Enter Hamlet. Ham. “ Now might I do it pat, now he is praying, " And now I'll do'tmind 10 he goes to heav'n." And so am I revengd ? that would be scann'd ; " A villain kills my father, and for that “ I, his fole son, do this fame villain send “ To hear'n-- O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. " He took my father grossly, full of bread * With all his crimes broad blown, as flulh as May ; " And how his audit lands, who knows, 13ve heaven? " But in our circumstance and courle of thought, “ 'Tis heavy with him Am I then reveng'd, “ To take him in the purging of his foul, " When he is fit and season'd for his passage? “ Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid bent;
When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage, " Or in th' incestuous pleature of his bed ; “ At gaining, swearing, or about some act rs That has no relish of salvation in't ;
Than trip hiin, that bis heels may kick at heav'n; " And that his soul may be as damn'd and black As hell, whereto it
goes. My mother stays : This phylic but prolongs thy fickly days. [Exit,
The King rises, and comes forward. King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. [Exit.
SCENE X Glanges to the Queen's apartment,
Enter Queen and Polonius. Pol He will come straight; look you lay home to
him; Tell him, his pranks have been too broad to bear with; And that your Grace hath screen'd, and food between Much heat and him. I'll 'fconce* me ever here ; Pray you be round with him.' Ham. [within.] Mother, mother, mother,
i. e, in conce, to cover or secure. VOL, VII!.
Queen. I'll warrant you, fear me not.' Withdraw, I hear him coming.
[Polorius hides limfelf behind the arras.
Erter Hamlet. Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter ? Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. llam. Mother, you
my father much offended, 22en. Come, come, you answer with an idle
Ham. No, by the rood, not fo ;
Queen. Nay, then I'll let those to you that can speak.
Ham. Come, come, and lit you down ; you shall not You go not, till I let you up a glass (budge: Where you may see the inmost part of
you. Queen. U hat wilt thou do? thou wilt not murther me? Help, ho. Pei. What ho, help.
[Behind the arras. Ham. How now, a rat? dead for a ducat, dead.
[Hamlet kilós Polonius. Pol. Oh, I am fain. Queen, Oh me, what has thou done? tram Nay, I know not : is it the King ? Queen. Oh, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
Haril. A bloody «ieed; almost as bad, good mcther, As kill a King, and marry with his brother.
Queen. As kill a King?
tian. Ay, laly, 'twas my word. 'Thou wretched, rash, intrucing 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, fic you down, nud let me wring your heart, for 10 i lhall, If it be made of penetrable stuff. li damned cuítom have not braz'd it so, Thai it is proof and bulwark against sense.