Pro. For us, and for our tragedy, Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ham. As woman's love. Enter a King and a Queen. P. King. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round Neptune's salt wash, and Tellus' orbed ground; So far from cheer, and from your former state, Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; My operant powers their functions leave3 to do: P. Queen. O, confound the rest! Such love must needs be treason in my breast: 1 splendour, lustre. • active powers. a fail. None wed the second, but who kill'd the first. P. Queen. The instances,' that second marriage Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt:2 Their own enactures with themselves destroy: Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. For who not needs, shall never lack a friend; But, orderly to end where I begun,— That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: So think thou wilt no second husband wed; But die thy thoughts, when thy first lord is dead. P. Queen. Nor earth to give me food, nor heaven light! the motives. 2 The performance of a resolution in which only the resolver is interested, is a debt only to himself, which he may therefore remit at pleasure. Sport and repose lock from me, day, and night! Ham. If she should break it now,-[To OPHELIA. here a while; Sweet, leave me [Sleeps. My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep. P. Queen. Sleep rock thy brain; And never come mischance between us twain! [Exit. Ham. Madam, how like you this play? Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. Ham. O, but she'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 jest; no offence i' th' world. King. What do you call the play? Ham. The mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: But what of that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not: Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung. Enter LUCIANUS. This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. anchor, for anchoret. because it is He calls it the mouse-trap, -the thing In which he'll catch the conscience of the king. Confederate season, else no creature seeing; On wholesome life usurp immediately. [Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears. Ham. He poisons him i' th' garden for his estate. His name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and written in very choice Italian: you shall see anon, how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. Oph. The king rises. Ham. What! frighted with false fire! Pol. Give o'er the play. King. Give me some light:-away! Pol. Lights, lights, lights! [Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO. Ham. Why let the strucken deer go weep, For some must watch, while some must sleep; Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers,' (if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me,') with two Provencial roses on my razed shoes,* get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir? Hor. Half a share. Ham. A whole one, I. For thou dost know, O Damon' dear, This realm dismantled was Of Jove himself; and now reigns here Feathers were much worn on the stage in Shakspeare's time. 2 change conditions rudely. ' Roses of Provence. stood. Streaked shoes. Here roses of ribbons must be under Hamlet calls Horatio by this name in allusion to the celebrated friendship between Damon and Pythias. Hor. You might have rhymed. Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive? Hor. Very well, my lord. Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning, Hor. I did very well note him. Ham. Ah, ha!-Come, some musick; come, the recorders. For if the king like not the comedy, Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.' Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Come, some musick. Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with Ham. Sir, a whole history. Guil. The king, sir, Ham. Ay, sir, what of him? [you. Guil. Is, in his retirement, marvellous distempered. Ham. With drink, sir? Guil. No, my lord, with choler. Ham. Your wisdom should show itself more richer, to signify this to the doctor; for, for me to put him to his purgation, would, perhaps, plunge him into more choler. affair. Guil. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start not so wildly from my 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 commandment: if not, your pardon, and my return, shall be the end of my business. Ham. Sir, I cannot. A corruption of par Dieu. |