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Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is ; I know not
seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of folemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shews of grief, That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within, which pafleth shew; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe. King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your na.
ture, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father : But, you must know, your father loft a father; That father loft, lost his; and the survivor bound In filial obligation for some term To do obfequious forrow : But to persevere In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief: It shews a will most incorrect to heaven ; A heart unfortify'd, or mind impatient; An understanding simple, and unschool'd : For what, we know, must be, and is as common As any the most vulgar thing to sense, Why should we, in our peevith opposition, Take it to heart > Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, To reason most absurd, whose common theme Is death of fathers, and who still have cry'd, From the first corse, 'till he that died to-day, This must be so. We pray you, throw to earth This unprevailing woe, and think of us
you to remain
As of a father : for, let the world take note,
Than that which deareft father bears his son, | Do I impart toward you. For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
bend Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our fon. Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers,
Hamlet; 1 pray thee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply; Be as ourself in Denmark.–Madam, come ; This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart : in grace whereof, No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell; And the king's rouze the heaven shall bruit again, Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come,away.[Exeunt.
Manent HAMLET. Ham. O, that this too, too folid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His cannon 'gainst self-Naughter ! O God ! O God! How weary, ftale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That
grows to feed; things rank,and gross in nature. Poffels it merely. That it should come to this ! But two months dead!--nay, not so much, not two: B
So excellent a king: that was to this,
uncle, My father's brother; but no more like my
for I must hold my tongue
well : Horatio,or I do forget anyself?
Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor
Ham. Sir, my good friend ; I'll change that nam
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?Marcellus ?
Mar. My good lord,-
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so ;
Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me,fellow-itudent.
Hor. Indeed, my lord it follow'd hard upon.
Hor. O where my lord ?
Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead waste and middle of the night, Been thus encountered. A figure like your father, Arm'd at all points, exactly, cap-á-pé, Appears before them, and, with solemn march, Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk’d, By their opprest and fear-surprized eyes, Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him.
This to me
Ham. But where was this?
Hor. My lord, I did;
Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty, To let you know of it.
Ham. Indeed, indeed, firs, but this troubles mes Hold you the watch to-night? All. We do, my lord.