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Hor. I'm sorry they offend you, heartily ; Yes, heartily.

Hor. There's no offence, my lord.

Ham. Yes, by St. Patrick, but there is, my lord, And much offence too. Touching this Vision hereIt is an honest Ghost, that let me tell you : For your

desire to know what is between us, O'er-master it as you may. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, Give me one poor request. Hor. What is't, my lord ?

[to-night. Ham. Never make known what you have seen Bolh. My lord, we will not. Ham. Nay, but swear't. Hor. In faith, my lord, not I. Mar. Nor I, my lord, in faith. Ham. Upon my sword. Mar. We have fworn, my lord, already. Ham. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. Ghost. Swear.

Ghost cries under the stage. Ham. Ah ha, boy, say'st thou so ? art thou there,

true-penny? Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellaridge. Consent to swear.

Hor. Propose the oath, my lord. .

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

Ghoft. Swear.

Han. Hic & ubique ? then we'll shift our ground.
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword.
Never to speak of this which you have heard.
Swear by my sword.

Ghoft. Swear by his sword.
Ham. Well said, old mole, can'st work i' th' ground

so fast ? A worthy pioneer! Once more remove, good friends. Hor. Oh day and night, but this is wondrous strange.

Ham.

Ham. And therefore as a stranger give it welcome,

There are more things in heav'n and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come,
Here, as before, never (so help you mercy!)
How strange or odd loe'er I hear myself
(As I, perchance, hereafter thall think meet
To put an antic difpofition on)
That you, at such time seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of fome doubtful phrase,
As, well-we know cor, we could, and if we

would-
Or, if we list to speak—or, there be, and if there

might--
(Or such ambiguous givings out) denote
That you know aught of me; This do ye swear,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you !
Swear.

Ghot. Swear.

Ham. Reft, rest, perturbed Spirit. So, Gentlemen, With all

my

love do I commend me to you;
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do t'express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack; let us go in together,
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray:
The Time is out of joint; oh cursed spight!
That ever I was born to set it right.
Nay, come, let's go together.

(Exeunt.

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· A А СТІ. S CE N E 1.

An Apartment in Polonius's House.
Enter Polonius and Reynoldo.

POLONIUS.
G
RIVE him this money, and these notes, Reynoldo.
Rey. I will, my lord.

Pol,

Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Rey.

noldo,
Before you visit him, to make enquiry
Of his behaviour,

Rey. My lord, I did intend it.
Pol. Marry, well said ; very well said. Look you,

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

keep, What company, at what expence ; and finding, By this encompassment and drift of question, That they do know my son, come you more near ; Then your particular demands will touch it; Take you, as 't were some diftant'knowledge of him, As thus-I know his father and his friends, And, in part, him-Do you mark this, Reynoldo ?

Rey. Ay, very well, my lord.

Pol. And, in part, him—but you may say-not But if't be he. I

mean, he's

very

wild ; Addicted so and so and there put on

hima What forgeries you please; marry, none fo rank, As may dishonour him ; take heed of that ; But Sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips, As are companions noted and moft known To youth and liberty.

Rey. As gaming, my lord

Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, Quarrelling, drabbing-You may go so far.

Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him.

Pol. Faith, no, as you may season it in the Charge ? You must not put an utter scandal on him, That he is open lo incontinency, Thai's not my meaning; but breathe his faults fo

quaintly, That they may seem the taints of liberty ; The flash and out-break of a fiery mind,

A

well;

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 wit.
You, laying these flight fullies on my son,
As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'th' working,
Mark you, your party in converse, he you would

found, Having ever seen, in the prenominate crimes, The youth, you breathe of, guilty, be assur'd, He closes with you in this consequence ; Good fir, or Gire, or friend, or gentleman, (According to the phrase or the addition Of man and country.)

Rey. Very good, my lord.

Pol. And then, Sir, does he this; He does—what was I about to say ? I was about to say something-where did I leave ?-

Rey. At, closes in the consequence.

Pol. At, clofes in the consequence-Ay marry.
He closes thus ;-I know the gentleman.
I saw him yesterday, or t' other day,
Or then, with such and such ; and, as you say,
There was he gaming, there o'ertook in's rouse,
There falling out at tennis ; or, perchance,
I saw him enter such a house of sale,
Videlicet, a Brothel, or so forsooth. See you now;
Your bait of Falshood takes this carp of Truth;
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
With windlaces, and with assays of Bias,
By indirections find directions out;
So by my former lecture and advice
Shall you my son; you have me, have you not?

Rey. My lord, I have.
Pol. God b' w'you; fare you well.

Rey.

Rey. Good my lord-
Pol. Observe his inclination e'en yourself.
Rey. I shall, my lord.
Pol. And let him ply his music.
Rey. Well, my lord.

(Exit.

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FAREY

Enter Ophelia. Pol. ARE WEL. How now, Ophelin, what's the

matter.
Oph. Alas, my lord, I have been so affrighted !
Pol. With what, in the name of heav'n?

Oph. My lord, as I was fewing in my closet,
Lord Hamlet, with his Doublet all unbrac'd,
No hat upon his head, his stockings loose,
Ungarter'd, and down-gyred 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 loosed out of hell,
To speak of horrors ; thus he comes before me.

Pol. Mad for thy love ?

Oph. My lord, I do not know : But, truly, I do fear it.

Pol. What said he ?

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 time ftaid he so;
At last, a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down
He rais'd a sigh, so piteous and profound,
That it did seem io hatter all his bulk,
And end his Being. Then he lets me go,
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd
He seem'd to find his

way
without his eyes ;

For

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