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The passion ending, doth the purpose lofe ;
Dutch. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!
Ham. If the should break it now
Ham. Madam, how like you this Play ?
King. Have you heard the argument, is there no offence in't ?
Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jeft, no offence i'ch' world.
King. What do you call the Play?
Ham. The Mouse-Trap;Marry, how? tropically. This Play is the image of a murther done in Vienna; Gonzago is the Duke's name, his wife's Baptisa; you shall see anon, 'tis a knavith piece of Work; but what o' that? your Majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not ; let the gallid jade winch, oar withers are unwrung.
Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
Ham. I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see the puppets dallying. Oph. You are keen, my lord,
you are keen, Ham. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.
Oph. Still better and worse.
husbands. Begin, murtherer. - Leave thy damnable faces, and
begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge. Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time
[Pours the poison into his ears. Ham. He poisons him i'th' garden for's estate; his name's Gonzago; the story is extant, and writ in choice Italian. You shall see anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife,
Oph. The King rises.
Queen. How fares
The hart ungalled play ; for some must watch, whilst some must sleep;
So runs the world away. Would not this, Sir, and a forest of Feathers, (if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me) with two'provincial roses on my rayed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of Players, Sir?
Hor. Half a share.
Ham. A whole one, I. " For thou doft know, oh Damon dear,
This realm dismantled was “Of Jove himself, and now reigns here " A very, very,
(20) A very very Peacock.) The old Copies have it Paicock, Paicocke, and Pajocke. I substitute Paddock, as nearest to the Traces of the corrupted Reading. I have, as Mr. Pope says, been willing to substitute any Thing in the place of his peao cock. He thinks a Fable alluded to, of the Birds chuling a King; instead of the Eagle, a Peacock. I suppose, he must mean the Fable of Barlandus, in which it is said, The Birds bem ing weary of their State of Anarchy, moy'd for the setting up of a King: and the Peacock was elected on account of his gay feathers. But, with Submission, in this passage of our Shakespeare, there is not the least Mention made of the Eagle in Antithelis to the Peacock; and it must be by a very uncommon Figure, that Jove himself Aands in the place of his Bird. I think, Hamler is setting his Father's and Uncle's Characters in Contrast to each other: and means to say, that by his Father's Death the State was stripp'd of a godlike Monarch, and thank now in his Stead reignd the most despicable poisonous Animal that could be: a meer Paddock, or Toad. Pad, bufo, rubeta major; a toad. This Word, I take to be of Hamlet's own subVol. VIII,
Hor You might have rhim'd.
Ham. Oh, good Horatio, I'll take the Ghoft's word for a thousand pounds. Didit perceive?
Hor. Very well, my lord.
Enter Rosincrantz and Guildenstern.
Gul. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
Ham. Your wisdom should shew it self more rich, to fignify this to his Doctor : for, for me to put him to his purgation, would, perhaps, plunge him into more choler.
Guil. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start not so wildly from my affair.
Ham. I am tame, Sir ; -pronounce. Guil. The Queen your mother, in moft great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you.
Ham. You are welcome.
Guil. Nay, good my lord, this Courtesy is not of the right Breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholsom answer, I will do your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon, and my return shall be the end of my business.
ftituting. The Verses, repeated, seem to be from some old
you go to bed.
Have you any
Ham. Sir, I cannot.
Ham. Make you a wholsom answer : my wit's dif-
Rol. Then thus the fays; your behaviour hath ftruck her into amazement, and admiration.
Ham. Oh wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration ?
Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere
further trade with lis ?
Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper ? you do, surely, bar the door of your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to your friend.
Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.
Rof. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself, for your succession in Denmark?
Ham. Ay, but while the grass grozu's the Proverb is something musty.
Enter one, with a Recorder. Oh, the Recorders; let me fee one. To withdraw with you-why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?
Guil. Oh my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is top unmannerly.
Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play