With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,
(O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!) won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming virtuous queen :
O, Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor

To those of mine!

But virtue, as it never will be moved,
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven;
So lust, though to a radiant angel linked,
Will sate itself in a celestial bed,
And prey on garbage.

But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be :-Sleeping within mine orchard,
My custom always of the afternoon,
Upon my sécure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of curséd hebenon in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset
And curd, like aigre droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;
And in a most instant tetter barked about,
Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,
All my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand,

Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatched:
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhouselled, disappointed, unanelled;
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my
head:
O, horrible! O, horrible! Most horrible!
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damnéd incest.
But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shews the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
Ham. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What
else?

[Exit.

And shall I couple hell? O fie!-Hold, hold, my heart;

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up!-Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee!

Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmixed with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
O most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damnéd villain!
My tables-meet it is I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least, I am sure it may be so in Denmark:

Ham. Why, right; you are in the right; And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: You, as your business and desire shall point you; For every man hath business and desire, Such as it is; and, for my own poor part, Look you, I will go pray.

Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

Ham. I am sorry they offend you, heartily; Yes 'faith, heartily.

Ham. Never to speak of this that you have seen, Swear by my sword.

Ghost [beneath]. Swear!

Ham. Hic et ubique? then we will shift our ground:

Come hither, gentlemen,

And lay your hands again upon my sword:
Swear by my sword,

Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Ghost [beneath]. Swear by his sword!
Ham. Well said, old mole! canst work i' the
earth so fast?

A worthy pioneer!-Once more remove, good

friends.

Hor. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

Ham. And therefore as a stranger give it wel

come.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

But come :

Here, as before, never, so help you mercy!

How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on,-

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumbered thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As "Well, well, we know; " or, "We could, an if
we would; " or, "If we list to speak;" or, "There
be, an if they might;"-

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me :-this do you swear,
grace and mercy at your most need help you!
Ghost [beneath]. Swear!

So

My lord, I did intend it.

Pol. Marry, well said: very well said. Look

you, sir,

Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,

What company, at what expense; and finding, By this encompassment and drift of question, That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it: Take you, as 't were, some distant knowledge of him;

As thus: "I know his father, and his friends, And, in part, him." Do you mark this, Reynaldo? Rey. Ay, very well, my lord.

Pol. "And, in part, him ;-but," you may say, "not well:

But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild;
Addicted so and so;"-and there put on him
What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank
As may dishonour him; take heed of that;
But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips,
As are companions noted and most known
To youth and liberty.

You must not put another scandal on him,
That he is open to incontinency;

That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly,

That they may seem the taints of liberty;
The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind;

A savageness in unreclaimed blood,
Of general assault.

Rey. But, my good lord,—
Pol. Wherefore should you do this?
Rey. Ay, my lord,

I would know that.

Pol.

Marry, sir, here's my drift;
And I believe it is a fetch of warrant :

You laying these slight sullies on my son,
As 't were a thing a little soiled i' the working,
Mark you,

Your party in convérse, him you would sound,
Having ever seen, in the prenominate crimes,
The youth you breathe of, guilty,-be assured,
He closes with you in this consequence:
"Good sir," or so; or "friend," or "gentleman,"-
According to the phrase, or the addition,
Of man and country:-

Pol. Farewell! How now, Ophelia? what's the

matter?

Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

Pol. With what, in the name of heaven? Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet,—with his doublet all unbraced; No hat upon his head; his stockings fouled, Ungartered, and down-gyvéd to his ancle; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport,

As if he had been looséd out of hell,

To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
Pol. Mad for thy love?
Oph.

My lord, I do not know;

Oph. He took me by the wrist, and held me hard; Then goes he to the length of all his arm; And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face, As he would draw it. Long stayed he so; At last, a little shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus waving up and down,— He raised a sigh so piteous and profound, As it did seem to shatter all his bulk, And end his being. That done, he lets me go; And, with his head over his shoulder turned, He seemed to find his way without his eyes; For out o' doors he went without their help, And to the last bended their light on me. Pol. Come, go with me; I will go seek the king. This is the very ecstasy of love; Whose violent property foredoes itself, And leads the will to desperate undertakings,

As oft as any passion under heaven

That does afflict our natures. I am sorry,-
What, have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did com-
mand,

I did repel his letters, and denied

His áccess to me.

SCENE II.-A Room in the Castle.

Enter KING, QUEEN, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants.

King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!

Moreover that we much did long to see you,
The need we have to use you did provoke
Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it,
Since not the exterior nor the inward man
Resembles that it was: what it should be,
More than his father's death, that thus hath put
him

So much from the understanding of himself,
I cannot deem of. I entreat you both,
That, being of so young days brought up with him,
And since so neighboured to his youth and humour,
That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court
Some little time: so by your companies
To draw him on to pleasures; and to gather,
So much as from occasion you may glean,
Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,
That, opened, lies within our remedy.

Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talked of