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A combination, and a form, indeed,
have, Else, could you not have motion ; but, sure, that sense Is apoplex’d; for madness would not err, Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall’d, But it reserv'd some quantity of choice, To serve in such a difference.] What devil was't, That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind ? (Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, Or but a sickly part of one true sense Could not so mope.] O shame! where is thy blush ? Rebellious Hell, If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, And melt in her own fire : proclaim no shame, When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, Since frost itself as actively doth burn, And reason panders, will. Queen.
O Hamlet! speak no more! Thou turn’st mine eyes into my very soul ; And there I see such black and grained spots, As will not leave their tinct.
Nay, but to live
O, speak to me no more!
A murtherer, and a villain ; A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe Of your precedent lord: - a vice of kings! A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, And put it in his pocket! Queen.
No more !
Ham. A king of shreds and patches. Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, You heavenly guards ! -- What would your gracious
figure Queen. Alas! he's mad.
Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
Ghost. Do not forget. This visitation
How is it with you, lady?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
Queen. To whom do you speak this?
Do you see nothing there?
No, nothing but ourselves. Ham. Why, look you there! look, how it steals
away! My father, in his habit as he liv'd! Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal ?
[Exit Ghost. Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain : This bodiless creation ecstasy Is very cunning in. Ham.
Ecstasy ! My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep. time, And makes as healthful music. It is not madness, That I have utter'd : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word, which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks : It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
For this same lord,
[Pointing to POLONIUS. I do repent: but Heaven hath pleas'd it so, To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So, again, good night. I must be cruel, only to be kind : Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind. [One word more, good lady.]
What shall I do? Ham. Not this, by no means,
that I bid you do: Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed ; Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse ; And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, Or paddling in your neck with his damn’d fingers, Make you to ravel all this matter out, That I essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, Such dear concernings hide ? who would do so ? No, in despite of sense, and secrecy, Unpeg the basket on the house's top, Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, To try conclusions in the basket creep, And break your own neck down. Queen. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of
Ham. I must to England; you know that.
fellows, Whom I will trust as I will adders fang’d, They bear the mandate ; they must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; For 'tis the sport to have the enginer Hoist with his own petar : and it shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines, And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet, When in one line two crafts directly meet. —] This man shall set me packing: