Baked and impasted with the parching streets, To their vile murders: roasted in wrath and fire. With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus So proceed you. Pol. 'Fore God, my lord, well spoken; with good accent, and good discretion. 1 Play. Anon he finds him Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, But, as we often see, against some storm, Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, Pol. This is too long. Ham. It shall to the barber's, with your beard.-Pr'ythee, say on :-he's for a jig, or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps :-say on; come to Hecuba. 1 Play. But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen Ham. The mobled queen? Pol. That's good : mobled queen is good. 1 Play. Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flame With bisson rheum; a clout about that head, A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; nounced: But if the gods themselves did see her then, Pol. Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has tears in his eyes. -Pray you, no more. Ham. 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.-Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstracts, and brief chronicles, of the time: after your death you were better have a bad epitaph, than their ill report while you lived. Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. Ham. Odd's bodikin man, better: use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping! Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. Pol. Come, sirs. Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. [Exit POL., with some of the Players.] -[Aside to i Player.] Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play The Murder of Gonzago? 1 Play. Ay, my lord. Ham. [aside.] We'll have't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down, and insert in't, could you not? I Play. Ay, my lord. Ham. [aside.] Very well.-Follow that lord; and look you mock him not. [Exit Player.] My good friends [to Ros. and GUIL.], I'll leave you till night you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord! Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you: [Exeunt ROSEN. and GUILD O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! A broken voice, and his whole function suiting What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion, That I have? He would drown the stage with tears, And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, Confound the ignorant; and amaze, indeed, The very faculties of eyes and ears. A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? Why, I should take it for it cannot be, O vengeance! What an ass am I! ay, sure, this is most brave; That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, And fall a cursing, like a very drab, A scullion! Fie upon't! foh! About, my brains! I have heard, That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Play something like the murder of my father, ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in the Castle. Enter KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN. King. ND can you, by no drift of circumstance, Get from him, why he puts on this confusion; Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? Ros. He does confess he feels himself distracted; But from what cause he will by no means speak. Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded; But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state. |