That cannot be; since I am still possess'd
Of those effects for which I did the murder,
My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence?
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice;
And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law: But 'tis not so above:
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To give in evidence. What then? what rests?
Try what repentance can: What can it not?
Yet what can it, when one can not repent?
O wretched state! O bosom, black as death!
O limed soul; that struggling to be free,
Art more engag'd! Help, angels, make assay!
Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart, with strings of

steel;

Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe;

All may be well!

[Retires and kneels.

Enter HAMlet.

Ham. Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying;
And now I'll do't; and so he goes to heaven:
And so am I reveng'd? That would be scann'd:
A villain kills my father; and, for that,

I, his sole son, do this same villain send
To heaven.

6

Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
He took my father grossly, full of bread;
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
And, how his audit stands, who knows, save heaven?
But, in our circumstance and course of thought,
Tis heavy with him: And am I then reveng'd,
To take him in the purging of his soul,

Caught as with bird-lime. 6 Should be considered.

When he is fit and season'd for his passage?
No.

Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent :7
When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage;
Gaming or swearing:-but my mother stays:
This physick but prolongs thy sickly days. [Exit.

The King rises and advances.

King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain

below:

Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Another Room in the same.

Enter Queen and POLONIUS.

Pol. He will come straight. Look, you lay home to him:

Tell him, his pranks have been too broad to bear

with;

And that your grace hath screen'd and stood

between

Much heat and him. I'll silence me e'en here.
Pray you, be round with him.

Queen.

Fear me not-withdraw, I hear him coming.

I'll warrant you;

[POLONIUS hides himself.

Enter HAMLET.

Ham. Now, mother; what's the matter?
Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much of-
fended.

7 Hold, i. c. purpose.

Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended.

Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.

Ham. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet?
Ham.

What's the matter now ?

Queen. Have you forgot me?
Ham.

No, by the rood, not so: You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; And,—'would it were not so !-you are my mother. Queen. Nay, then I'll set those to you that can

not budge;

down; you you

You go not, till I set you up a glass

Where you may see the inmost part

of you.

shall

Queen. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder

[Falls, and dies.

Nay, I know not:

Queen. O me, what hast thou done?

Ham.

Is it the king?

[Lifts up the Arras, and draws forth POLONIUS, Queen. , what a rash and bloody deed is this! Ham. A bloody deed;-almost as bad, good mother,

As kill a king, and marry with his brother.

Queen. As kill a king!

Ham.

Ay, lady, 't was my word.

* Cross.

Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!

[TO POLONIUS.

I took thee for thy better; take thy fortune:
Thou find'st, to be too busy, is some danger.-
Leave wringing of your hands: Peace; sit you down,
And let me wring your heart: for so I shall,
If it be made of penetrable stuff;

If horrid custom have not braz'd it so,
That it be proof and bulwark against sense.
Queen. What have I done, that thou dar'st wag
thy tongue

In noise so rude against me?

Ham.
Such an act,
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;
Calls virtue, hypocrite; takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And sets a blister, there; makes marriage vows
As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul; and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words: Heaven's face doth glow;
Yea, this solidity and compound mass,

With tristful-visage, as against the doom,
Is thought-sick at the act.

Queen.

Ah me, what act, That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? 2 Ham. Look here, upon this picture, and on this; The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See, what a grace was seated on this brow: Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; 'A station like the herald Mercury,

+

3

New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;

A combination, and a form, indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,

9 Marriage contract.

1 Sorrowful.
2 Index of contents prefixed to a book.
4 The act of standing.

3 Apollo's.

To give the world assurance of a man:
This was your husband.-Look you now, what fol-

Here is

lows:

your

husband;

like mildew'd ear,

a

Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten' on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it, love: for, at your age,

The hey-day in the blood is tame, it 's humble, And waits upon the judgment; And what judgment Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,

Else, could you not have motion: But, sure, that

sense

Is apoplex'd: for madness would not err;
Nor sense to ecstasy' was ne'er so thrall'd,
But it reserv'd some quantity of choice,
To serve in such a difference. What devil was 't,
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
Or but a sickly part of one true sense

Could not so mope.

O shame! where is thy blush?

Queen.

Thou turn'st mine eyes

8

O Hamlet, speak no more:

into

my very soul;

And there I see such black and grained spots,

As will not leave their tinct.2

Ham.

In an incestuous bed,

Queen.

Nay, but to live

O, speak to me no more;

These words, like daggers enter in mine ears:
No more, sweet Hamlet.

Ham.

A murderer, and a villain

A slave, that is not twentieth part the tythe
Of your precedent lord :-a vice3 of kings: