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Ham. We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a fpeech of fome dozen or fixteen lines, which I would fet down, and infert in't? could ye not?

Play. Ay, my Lord.

Ham. Very well. Follow that Lord, and, look, you mock him not. My good friends, [to Rof. and Guild.] I'll leave you 'till night. You are welcome to Elfinoor.

Rof. Good my Lord.

SCENE VIII,

Manet Hamlet.

[Exeunt.

Ham. Ay, fo, God b'wi'ye. Now I am alone.
Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monftrous that this Player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of paffion,
Could force his foul fo to his own conceit,

8

That, from her working, all his visage wan'd;
Tears in his eyes, diftraction in his afpect,

A broken voice, and his whole function fuiting,
With forms, to his conceit? and all for nothing?
For Hecuba?

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,

That he fhould 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,

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And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
Make mad the guilty, and appall the free;
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed,
The very faculty of ears and eyes.
Yet I,

A dull and muddy-mettled rafcal, peak,
Like John-a-dreams,

2

unpregnant of my caufe, And can fay nothing. No, not for a King, Upon whofe property and moft dear life

3 A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain, breaks my pate a-cross,
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by th' nofe, gives me the lye i' th' throat,
As deep as to the lungs who does me this?
Yet I fhould take it for it cannot be,
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppreffion bitter; or, ere this,
I should have fatted all the region kites
With this flave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorfelefs, treacherous, letcherous, kindlefs vil-

lain!

4

Why, what an afs am I? this is most brave,
That I, the fon of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heav'n and hell,
Muft, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a curfing like a very drab,

A Scullion. Fy upon't! foh!

5 About, my brain! I've heard,
That guilty creatures, fitting at a Play,
Have by the very cunning of the Scene

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-the general ear-] The ears of all mankind. So before, Caviare to the general, that is, to the multitude.

2-unpregnant of my caufe,] Unpregnant, for having no due WARBURTON. Rather, not quickened with a

fenfe of.

new defore of vengeance; not teeMing with revenge.

3A damn'd defeat was made.] Defeat, for deftruction, WARB. Rather, difpoffeffion.

4 -kindiefs-] Unnatural. 5. About, my brain!] Wits, to your work. Brain, go about the prefent bufinefs.

Been

Been ftruck fo to the foul, that presently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions.

For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have thefe Players
Play fomething like the murder of my father,
Before mine uncle. I'll obferve his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick, 7 if he but blench,
I know my course. This Spirit, that I have seen,
May be the Devil; and the Devil hath power
T'affume a pleafing fhape; yea, and, perhaps,
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
As he is very potent with such spirits,

Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds
& More relative than this: The Play's the thing,
Wherein I'll catch the Confcience of the King. [Exit.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The PALACE.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincrantz, Guildenstern, and Lords.

A

KING.

ND can you by no drift of conference Get from him why he puts on this confusion, Grating fo harfhly all his days of quiet, With turbulent and dang'rous lunacy?

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Rof. He does confefs, he feels himself distracted; But from what cause he will by no means speak.

Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be founded
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof,

When we would bring him on to fome confeffion
Of his true ftate.

Queen. Did he receive you well?

Rof. Moft like a gentleman.

Guil. But with much forcing of his difpofition. Rof. Niggard of question, but of our demands Moft free in his reply.

Queen. Did you affay him to any pastime?

Rof. Madam, it fell out, that certain Players
We* o'er-raught on the way; of these we told him
And there did feem in him a kind of joy
To hear of it. They are about the Court;
And (as I think) they have already order
This night to play before him.

Pol. 'Tis moft true:

And he befeech'd me to entreat your Majefties
To hear and fee the matter.

King. With all my heart, and it doth much con

tent me

To hear him fo inclin❜d.

Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
And drive his purpose into these delights.

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Rof. We fhall, my Lord.

King. Sweet Gertrude leave us too;

For we have clofely fent for Hamlet hither,
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
• Affront Ophelia.

Her father, and myfelf, lawful Efpials,

[Exeunt.

Will so bestow ourselves, that, feeing, unfeen, -
We may of their encounter frankly judge;
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If't be th' affliction of his love, or no,
That thus he suffers for.

Queen. I fhall obey you!

And for my part, Ophelia, I do wish,

That your good beauties be the happy cause

Of Hamlet's wildness! So fhall I hope, your virtues May bring him to his wonted way again

To both your honours.

Oph. Madam, I wish it may.

[Exit Queen.

Pol. Ophelia, walk you here.-Gracious, fo please

ye,

We will beftow ourselves-Read on this book;

To Oph.

That fhew of fuch an exercise may colour
Your loneliness. We're oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much prov'd, that with devotion's vifage,
And pious action, we do fugar o'er

The devil himself.

King. Oh, 'tis too true.

How smart a lash that speech doth give my confcience!

[Afide. The harlot's cheek, beautied with plaftring art, Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,

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