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That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, ,
O, confound the rest!
Ham. That's wormwood.
husband dead, When second husband kisses me in bed. P. King. I do believe, you think what now you
like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be.
Most necessary ’tis, that we forget
Both here, and hence, pursue me lasting strife,
[To Ophelia. P. King. 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me
here a-while; My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep.
[Sleeps. P. Queen.
Sleep rock thy brain; And never come mischance between us twain!
[Erit. 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'the 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 gall'd jade wince, our withers are unwrung.
This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.
Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
Ham. I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see 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, murderer;—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 season, else no creature seeing; Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecat's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy natural magick and dire property, On wholesome life usurp immediately.
[Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears. Ham. He poisons him i'the 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.
[Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio. Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
The hart ungalled play:
For some must watch, while some must sleep;
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 Provencial roses on my razed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?
Hor. Half a share.
This realm dismantled was
A very, very-peacock.
Ham. () good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. · Didst perceive?
Hor. Very well, my lord.
Ham. Ah, ha!--Come, some musick; come, the recorders.
For if the king like not the comedy,
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Come, some musick.
Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
Ham. Sir, a whole history.