confidered: That's villainous, and fhews a most pitiful ambition in the fool that ufes it. Go make you ready.

[Exeunt Players.

Enter Polonius, Rofincroffe, and Guildenstern. How now, my Lord ? will the King hear this piece of work? Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently.

Ham. Bid the Players make hafte. [Exit Polonius. Will you two help to haften them?

Both. We will, my Lord.

[Exeunt. SCENE V. Enter Horatio to Hamlet.

Ham. What ho! Horatio!

Hor. Here, fweet Lord, at your service.

Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man

As e'er my converfation cop'd withal.

Hor. Oh my dear Lord

Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter:

For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue haft, but thy good spirits,

To feed and cloath thee? Should the poor be flatter'd ?
No let the candied tongue lick abfurd pomp,

And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning. Doft thou hear?
Since my dear foul was miftrefs of her choice,
And could of men diftinguish, her election
Hath feal'd thee for her felf. For thou hast been
As one, in fuffering all that fuffers nothing:
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards
Hath ta'en with equal thanks. And bleft are thofe,
Whole blood and judgment are fo well co-mingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger

To found what flop the pleafe. Give me that man
That is not paffion's flave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core: ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.Something too much of this. -
There is a play to night before the King,
One scene of it comes near the circumftance
Which I have told thee, of my father's death.
I pr'ythee, when thou feest that act a-foot,
Ev'n with the very comment of thy foul
Obferve mine uncle: if his occult guilt

Do

Do not it felf unkennel in one speech,
It is a damned ghoft that we have seen :
And my imaginations are as foul

As Vulcan's fmithy. Give him heedful note,
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,

And after we will both our judgments join,
To cenfure of his feeming.

Hor. Well, my Lord.

If he fteal aught the whilft this play is playing,
And 'fcape detecting, I will pay the theft.
SCENE VI.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincroffe, Guildenftern, and other Lords attendant, with a Guard carry ing torches. Danish march. Sound a flourish.

Ham. They're coming to the play; I must be idle. a place.

Get

you

King. How fares our coufin Hamlet?

Ham. Excellent, i'faith, of the camelion's difh: I eat the air, promife-cramm'd: you cannot feed capons fo. King. I have nothing with this anfwer, Hamlet, thefe words are not mine.

Ham. No, nor mine now, my Lord. i' th' univerfity, you say?

Pol. That I did, my Lord, and was

actor.

Ham. And what did you enact?

You plaid once

[To Polonius. accounted a good

Pol. I did enact Julius Cæfar, I was kill'd i'th' Capitol: Brutus kill'd me.

Ham. It was a brute part of him, to kill fo capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

Rof. Ay, my Lord, they ftay upon your patience.
Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, fit by me.
Ham. No, good mother, here's mettle more attractive.
Pol. Oh ho, do you mark that?

Ham. Lady, fhall I lye in your lap ?

Oph. No, my Lord.

[Lying down at Ophelia's feet.

Ham. Do you think I meant country matters ?

Opb. I think nothing, my Lord.

Ham. That's a fair thought to lye between a maid's legs.

M 2

Oph. What is, my Lord?
Ham. Nothing.

Opb. You are merry, my Lord.
Ham. Who, I?

Oph. Ay, my Lord.

Ham. Oh God, your only jig-maker; what fhould a man do, but be merry? for look you how chearfully my mother looks, and my father dy'd within these two hours. Opb. Nay, 'tis two months, my Lord.

?

Ham. So long nay then let the devil wear black, for I'll have a fuit of ermyn. Oh heav'ns! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet! then there's hope, a great man's memory may out-live his life half a year: but by'r lady, he must build churches then; or elfe fhall he fuffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horfe; whofe epitaph is, For b, for ob, the bobby-borfe is forgot.

SCENE VII.

Hautboys play. The Dumb fhew enters. Enter a Duke and Dutchess, with regal coronets, very lovingly; the Dutchess embracing him, and be her. He takes ber up, and declines bis bead upon her neck. Lays him down upon a bank of flowers. She feeing him asleep, leaves bim. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his coronet, kiffes it, and pours poifon in the Duke's ears, and Exit. The Dutchefs returns. finds the Duke dead, and makes paffionate action. The poifoner, with fome two or three mutes come in again, feeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The poifoner wooes the Dutchess with gift, fhe feems loth and unwilling a while, but in the end accepts bis love.

[Exeunt.

Opb. What means this, my Lord? Ham. Marry this is miching Maliche, that means, chief.

mifOpb. Belike this fhew imports the argument of the play? Enter Prologue.

Ham. We shall know by this fellow: the Players can not keep counfel, they'll tell all.

Opb. Will he tell us what this fhew meant?

Ham. Ay, or any fhew that you'll fhew him. Be not

you

you afhamed to fhew, he'll not fhame to tell you what it

means.

Opb. You are naught, you are naught, I'll mark the

play.

Prol. For us and for our tragedy,

Here ftooping to your clemency,

We beg your bearing patiently.

Ham. Is this a prologue, or the pofie of a ring?
Oph. 'Tis brief, my Lord.

Ham, As woman's love.

Enter Duke and Dutchess, Players.

Duke. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' car gone round
Neptune's falt wash, and Tellus orbed ground;
And thirty dozen moons with borrowed fheen
About the world have times twelve thirty been,
Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands
Unite commutual, in moft facred bands.

Dutch. So many journeys may the fun and moot
Make us again count o'er, ere love be done.
But woe is me, you are fo fick of late,

So far from cheer and from your former ftate,
That I diftruft you; yet though I diftruft,
Discomfort you, my Lord, it nothing must:
And womens fear and love hold quantity,
'Tis either none, or in extremity;

Now what my love is, proof hath made you know,
And as my love is fiz'd, my fear is fo.

Duke. "Faith, I must leave thee, love, and fhortly too :

My operant powers their functions leave to do,

And thou fhalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour'd, belov'd, and haply one as kind
For husband fhalt thou

Dutch. Oh confound the reft!

Such love muft needs be treafon in my breaft:

In fecond husband let me be accurft,

None wed the fecond, but who kill'd the firft.

Ham. Wormwood, wormwood!

Dutch. The inftances that fecond marriage move,

Are base refpects of thrift, but none of love.

A fecond time I kill my husband dead,
When fecond husband kiffes me in bed.

Duke. I do believe you think what now you speak;
But what we do determine, oft we break:
Purpose is but the flave to memory,

Of violent birth, but poor validity:

Which now, like fruits unripe, fticks on the tree,
But fall unfhaken, when they mellow be.
Moft neceffary 'tis that we forget,

To pay our felves what to ourselves is debt;
What to our felves in paffion we propofe,
The paffion ending, doth the purpose lofe;
The violence of either grief or joy,

Their own enactors with themselves destroy :
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves on flender accident.
This world is not for aye, and 'tis not strange
That ev'n our loves fhould with our fortunes change.
For 'tis a queftion left us yet to prove,

Whether love fortune lead, or fortune love.
The great man down, you mark his fav`rite flies.
The poor, advanc'd, makes friends of enemies:
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend,

For who not needs, fhall never lack a friend;
And who in want a hollow friend'doth try,
Directly feafons him his enemy.

But orderly to end where I begun,

Our wills and fates do fo contrary run,

That our devices ftill are overthrown,

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

So think thou wilt no fecond husband wed,

But die thy thoughts, when thy firft Lord is dead.

Dutch. Nor earth oh! give me food, nor heaven light! Sport and repofe lock from me, day and night;

Each oppofite that blanks the face of joy,
Meet what I would have well, and it deftroy!
Both here, and hence, purfue me lasting strife,
If, once a widow, ever I be wife!

Ham, If the fhould break it now

Duke