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Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword
Pol. This is too long.
Ham. It shall to th' 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. 6. But who, 0, who had seen the mobbled
? Pol. That's good ; mobbled queen is good. 1 Play. “Run barefoot up and down, threat’ning
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd
Pol. Look, whether he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in ’his eyes ! — Pr’ythee, no more. Ham. "Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest
Good my lord, will you see the players well bestow'd ? Do ye hear, let them be well us'd; 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 live.
Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
Ham. God's bodykins, 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.
[Exit POLONIUS. Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play tomorrow. -[As they follow POLONIUS, HAMLET detains and steps aside with 1 Player.] Dost thou hear me, old friend ? can you play the Murther of Gonzago?
1 Play. Ay, my lord.
Ham. We'll ha' it 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
1 Play. Ay, my lord.
Ham. Very well.
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 !
[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Ham. b
Ay, so, God b'wi' ye. -- Now I am alone. 0, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd; Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing ! For Hecuba? 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 appall the frec, Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed, The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing; no, not for a king, Upon whose property and most dear life, A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward ? Who calls me. villain ? breaks my pate across ? Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by th' nose? gives me the lie i' th’ throat, As deep as to the lungs ? Who does me this ? Ha! ['Swounds !] I should take it; for it cannot be, But I am pigeon-liver’d, and lack gall
To make oppression bitter, or ere this
A Room in the Castle.
Enter King, Queen, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSEN
CRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN.
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 dangcrous 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. Queen.
Did he receive you well? Ros. Most like a gentleman. Guil. But with much forcing of his disposition.
Ros. Niggard of question ; but, of our demands, Most free in his reply. Queen.
Did you assay him To any pastime?
Ros. Madam, it so fell out, that certain players We o’er-raught on the way :
of these we told him; And there did seem-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 most true :