The paffion ending, doth the purpofe lofe;
The violence of either grief or joy,

Their own enactors with themselves deftroy.
Where joy most revels, grief doth moft lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves, on flender accident.
This world is not for aye; nor 'tis not ftrange,
That ev'n our loves fhould with our fortunes change.
For 'tis a queftion left us yet to prove,

Whether love leads fortune, or elfe 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.
Think ftill, thou wilt no fecond husband wed;
But die thy thoughts, when thy first lord is dead.
Dutch. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!
Sport and repofe lock from me, day and night!
To defperation turn my trust and hope!
An Anchor's cheer in prifon be my scope!
Each oppofite, that blanks the face of joy,
Meet what I would have well, and it deftroy!
Both here, and hence, purfue me lafting ftrife!
If, once a widow, ever I be wife.

Ham. If the thould break it now -

Duke. 'Tis deeply fworn; Sweet, leave me here a while;

My fpirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile

The tedious day with fleep.

Dutch. Sleep rock thy brain,

[Sleeps

And never come mifchance between us twain! [Exit.

Ham. Madam, how like you this Play?

Queen. The lady protefts too much, methinks.

Ham Oh, but he'll keep her word.

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'th' world.

King. What do you call the Play? Ham. The Moufe-Trap; Marry, how? tropically. This Play is the image of a murther done in Vienna; Gonzago is the Duke's name, his wife's Baptifta; you fhall fee anon, 'tis a knavish piece of Work; but what o' that? your Majefty, and we that have free fouls, it touches us not; let the gall'd jade winch, our withers are unwrung.

Enter Lucianus.

This is one Lucianus, nephew to the Duke.
Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
Ham. I could interpret between you and your love, if
I could fee 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.

Ham. So you mistake your 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 agreeing:

Confederate feafon, and no creature feeing:

Thou mixture rank, of mid-night weeds collected,
With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magick, and dire property,

On wholfom life ufurp immediately.

[Pours the poifon into his ears. Ham. He poifons him 'th' garden for's eftate; his name's Gonzago; the story is extant, and writ in choice Italian. You fhall fee anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

Oph. The King rifes.

Ham. What, frighted with falfe fire!

Queen.

Queen. How fares my lord?
Pol. Give o'er the Play.

King. Give me fome light. Away!

All. Lights, lights, lights!

Manent Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. Why, let the ftrucken deer go weep,

The hart ungalled play;

For fome must watch, whilst some must sleep;
So runs the world away.

[Exeunt.

Would not this, Sir, and a foreft of Feathers, (if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me) with two provincial rofes on my rayed fhoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of Players, Sir?

Hor. Half a share.

Ham. A whole one, I.

"For thou dost know, oh Damon dear,

"This realm difmantled was

"Of Jove himself, and now reigns here

"A very, very,

(20) Paddock.

Hor.

(20) A very very Peacock.] The old Copies have it Paicock Paicocke, and Pajocke. I fubftitute Paddock, as neareft to the Traces of the corrupted Reading. I have, as Mr. Pope fays, been willing to fubftitute any Thing in the place of his Pea cock. He thinks a Fable alluded to, of the Birds chufing a King; inftead of the Eagle, a Peacock. I fuppofe, he must mean the Fable of Barlandus, in which it is faid, The Birds be ing weary of their State of Anarchy, mov'd for the setting up of a King: and the Peacock was elected on account of his gay Feathers. But, with Submiffion, in this Paffage of our Shakespeare, there is not the leaft Mention made of the Eagle in Antithelis to the Peacock; and it must be by a very uncommon Figure, that Jove himself ftands in the place of his Bird. I think, Hamlet is fetting his Father's and Uncle's Characters in Contraft to each other: and means to say, that by his Father's Death the State was ftripp'd of a godlike Monarch, and that now in his Stead reign'd 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 fubVOL. VIII. ftituting.

H

Hor. You might have rhim'd.

Ham. Oh, good Horatio, I'll take the Ghoft's word for a thoufand pounds. Didft perceive?

Hor. Very well, my lord.

Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning?
Hor. I did very well note him.

Enter Rofincrantz and Guildenftern.

Ham. Oh, ha! come, fome mufick: Come, the re corders.

For if the King like not the comedy;

Why, then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.

Come, fome musick.

Gul. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. Ham. Sir, a whole history.

Guil. The King, Sir

Ham. Ay, Sir, what of him?

Guil. Is, in his retirement, marvellous diftemper'd
Ham. With drink, Sir?

Guil. No, my lord, with choler.

Ham. Your wisdom should fhew it felf 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 difcourfe into fome frame, and start not fo wildly from my affair.

Ham. I am tame, Sir ; pronounce.

Guil. The Queen your mother, in most great affliction of fpirit, hath fent me to you.

Ham. You are welcome.

Guil. Nay, good my lord, this Courtefy is not of the right Breed. If it fhall please you to make me a wholfom anfwer, I will do your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon, and my return fhall be the end of my bufinefs.

ftituting. The Verfes, repeated, feem to be from fome old Ballad; in which, Rhyme being neceffary, I doubt not but the laft Verfe ran thus;

A very, very, Ass.

Ham.

Ham. Sir, I cannot.

Guil. What, my lord?

Ham. Make you a wholfom answer: my wit's difeas'd. But, Sir, fuch anfwer as I can make, you shall command; or, rather, as you fay, my mothertherefore no more but to the matter

you fay

my mother,

Rof. Then thus fhe fays; your behaviour hath ftruck her into amazement, and admiration.

Ham. Oh wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But is there no fequel at the heels of this mother's admiration?

Rof. She defires to fpeak with you in her closet, ere you go to bed.

Ham. We fhall obey, were fhe ten times our mother. Have you any further trade with us?

Rof. My lord, you once did love me.

Ham. So I do ftill, by these pickers and stealers. Rof. Good my lord, what is your caufe of diftemper? you do, furely, 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 fucceffion in Denmark? Ham. Ay, but while the grafs grows

is fomething musty.

Enter one, with a Recorder.

Oh, the Recorders; let me fee one.

the Proverb

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 too unmannerly.

Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?

Guil. My lord, I cannot.

Ham. I do befeech you.

Guil. I know no touch of it, my lord.

H 2

Ham