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Ham. “Why, let the stricken deer go weep,
The hart ungalled play ;
Thus 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 raz'd shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?
Hor. Half a share.
For thou dost know, O Damon dear !
This realm dismantled was
A very, very — pajock."
O good Horatio ! I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. Did'st perceive ?
Hor. Very well, my lord.
Ham. Ah, ha! Come; some music! come; the recorders !
For if the King like not the comedy,
Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
Come ; some music!
Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
Ham. Sir, a whole history.
Guil. Is in his retirement marvellous distemper'd.
Ham. With drink, sir?
Ham. Your wisdom should shew itself more richer, to signify this to his doctor ; for, for me to put him to his purgation would, perhaps, plunge him into far 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 most 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 wholesome answer, I will do your mother's command'ment; if not, your pardon and my return shall be the end of my business.
Ham. Sir, I cannot.
Ham. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased : but, sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command ; or, rather, as you say, my mother : therefore no more, but to the matter. My mother, you say,
Ros. Then, thus she says. Your behaviour hath struck her into amazement and admiration. Ham. O wonderful son, that can
can so astonish a mother! But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration ? (impart.]
Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you go to bed.
Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any farther trade with us?
Ros. My lord, you once did love me.
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.
Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself for your succession in Denmark ?
Ham. Ay, sir, but while the grass grows,' — the proverb is something musty.
Enter the Players, with recorders. O, the recorders : - let me
- 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. O, my lord ! if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.
Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe ?
Guil. My lord, I cannot.
Ham. It is as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your finger and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most excellent 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 sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood ! do you think I ain easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
God bless you, sir !
Pol. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.
Ham. Do you see yonder cloud, that's almost in shape like a camel ?
Pol. By the Mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.
They fool me to the top of my bent. — I will come by and by Pol. I will say so.
[Exit POLONIUS. Ham. By and by is easily said. — Leave me,
friends. [Exeunt Ros., GUIL., HOR., &c. 'Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and Hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot
blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother. O, heart! lose not thy nature ; let not ever The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom : Let me be cruel, not unnatural. I will speak daggers to her, but use none; My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites : How in my words soever she be shent, To give them seals never, my soul, consent. [Exit.
A Room in the Same.
Enter King, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN.
King. I like him not; nor stands it safe with us,
We will ourselves provide.
Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound,
King. Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
We will haste us. Guil.s
[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.