fool; for wife men know well enough, what monsters you make of them To a nunnery, go and quickly

too: farewel.

Oph. Heav'nly powers, reftore him!

Ham. I have heard of your painting too, well enough: God has given you one face, and you make your felves another. You jig, you amble, and you lifp, and nickname God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I fay, we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but one, fhall live; the rest fhall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. [Exit Hamlet. Oph. Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, foldier's, fcholar's, eye, tongue, fword! Th' expectancy and rofe of the fair State,

The glafs of fashion, and the mould of form,
Th obferv'd of all obfervers, quite, quite down!
I am of ladies moft deject and wretched,
That fuck'd the hony of his mufick vows:
Now fee that noble and moft fovereign reafon,
Like fweet bells jangled out of tune,, and harfh;
That unmatch'd form, and feature of blown youth,
Blafted with extafie. Oh, woe is me!

T' have seen what I have feen; fee what I fee.

Enter King and Polonius.

King Love! his affections do not that way tend,
Nor what he fpake, tho' it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madnefs. Something's in his foul,
O'er which his melancholy fits on brood;
And, I do doubt, the hatch and the difclofe
Will be fome danger, which, how to prevent,

I have in quick determination

Thus fet it down. He fhall with speed to England,
For the demand of our neglected Tribute:

Haply, the Seas and Countries different,

With variable objects, fhall expel

This fomething fettled matter in his heart;

Whereon his brains ftill beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think

you on't?

Pol.

Pol. It fhall do well. But yet do I believe,
The origin and commencement of this grief
Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia ?
You need not tell us what lord Hamlet faid,

We heard it all. My lord, do as you pleafe; [Exit Ophelia.
But if you hold it fit, after the Play

Let his Queen-mother all alone intreat him
To fhew his griefs; let her be round with him:
And I'll be plac'd, fo pleafe you, in the ear
Of all their conf'rence. If the find him not,
To England fend him; or confine him, where
Your wifdom beft fhall think.

King. It fhall be fo:

Madness in Great ones muft not unwatch'd go. [Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players.

Ham. Speak the fpeech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our Players do, I had as lieve, the towncrier had spoke my lines. And do not faw the air too much with your hand thus, but ufe all gently; for in the very torrent, tempeft, and, as I may fay, whirlwind of your paffion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it fmoothnefs. Oh, it offends me to the foul, to hear a robuftious periwig-pated fellow tear a paffion to tatters, to very rags, to fplit the ears of the groundlings who (for the most part) are capable of nothing, but inexplicable dumb fhews, and noife, I could have fuch a fellow whipt for o'er-doing Termagant; it outberods Herod. Pray you, avoid it."

Play. I warrant your..

Honour.

Ham. Be not too tame neither; but let your own difcretion be your tutor. Sute the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special obfervance, that you o'er-step not the modefty of Nature; for any thing fo overdone is from the purpose of playing; whofe end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature; to fhew virtue her own feature, fcorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and preffure. Now this over-done, or

come tardy of, tho' it make the unfkilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve: the cenfure of which one muft in your allowance o'er-weigh a whole theatre of others. Oh, there be Players that I have feen play, and heard others praife, and that highly, (not to speak it prophanely) that neither having the accent of chriftian, nor the gate of chriftian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellow'd, that I have thought fome of nature's journey-men had made men, and not made them well; they imitated humanity fo abominably.

us.

Play. I hope, we have reform'd that indifferently with

Ham. Oh, reform it altogether. And let thofe, that play your Clowns, fpeak no more than is fet down for them: For there be of them that will themselves laugh, to fet on fome quantity of barren fpectators to laugh too; though, in the mean time, fome neceffary queftion of the Play be then to be confidered: That's villanous; and fhews a moft pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready. [Exeunt Players.

Enter Polonius, Rofincrantz, and Guildenstern.

How now, my lord? will the King hear this piece of work?

Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently.

Ham. Bid the Players make hafte.

Will you two help to haften them?

Both. We will, my lord.

Ham. What, ho, Horatio!

Enter Horatio to Hamlet.

[Exit Polonius.

[Exeunt.

Hor. Here, fweet lord, at your fervice. Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a Man, As e'er my converfation coap'd withal.

Hor. Oh my dear lord,

-Ham. Nay, do not think, I flatter:

For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue haft, but thy good spirits,

To feed and cloath thee? Should the poor be flatter'd?

No,

No, let the candied tongue lick abfurd Pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning. Doft thou hear?
Since my dear foul was miftrefs of her choice,
And could of men distinguish, her election
Hath feal'd thee for her felf. For thou haft been
As one, in fuffering all, that fuffers nothing:
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards

Haft ta'en with equal thanks. And bleft are thofe,
Whose blood and judgment are fo well comingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger,
To found what stop the please. Give me that man,
That is not paffion's flave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core: ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.- -Something too much of this.
There is a Play to night before the King,
One Scene of it comes near the circumftance,
Which I have told thee, of my father's death.
I pr'ythee, when thou feest that Act a-foot,
Ev'n with the very comment of thy foul
Obferve mine uncle: if his occult guilt
Do not it felf unkennel in one fpeech,
It is a damned Ghoft that we have feen :
And my imaginations are as foul

(37)

As Vulcan's Smithy. Give him heedful note;
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face;

And, after, we will both our judgments join,
In cenfure of his Seeming.

Hor. Well, my lord.

If he fteal aught, the whilft this Play is playing,
And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

(37) And my Imaginations are as foul,

As Vulcan's Stithy.] I have ventur'd, against the Authority of all the Copies, to fubftitute Smithy here. I have given my Reasons in the 40th Note on Troilus, to which, for Brevity's fake, I beg Leave to refer the Readers.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincrantz, Guildenftern, and other lords attendant, with a guard carrying torches. Danish March. Sound a flourish.

Ham. They're coming to the Play'; I must be idle. Get you a place.

King. How fares our coufin Hamlet?

Ham. Excellent, i'faith, of the camelion's difh: I eat the air, promife-cramm'd: you cannot feed capons fo. King. I have nothing with this anfwer, Hamlet; these words are not mine."

Ham. No, nor mine.Now, my lord; you plaid once i'th' univerfity, you fay?" [To Polonius. Pel. That I did, my lord, and was accounted a good

actor.

Ham. And what did you enact?"

Pol. I did enact Julius Cæfar, I was kill'd i'th' Capitol : Brutus kill'd me.

Ham. It was a brute part of him, to kill fo capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

Rof. Ay, my lord, they ftay upon your patience.
Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, fit by me.
Ham. No, good mother, here's mettle more attractive.
Pol. Oh ho, do you mark that?

Ham. Lady, fhall I lye in your lap?

Oph. No, my lord.

..

[Lying down at Ophelia's feet.

Ham. I mean, my Head upon your Lap?

Oph. Ay, my Lord.

Ham. Do you think, I meant country matters ?

Oph. I think nothing, my lord.

Ham. That's a fair thought, to lie between a inaid's legs,

30 Opb. What is, my lord?

માં

Ham, Nothingsit

Oph. You are merry, my lord.

Ham. Who, I?

Oph. Ay, my lord,

Ham. Oh God! your only jig-maker; what fhould a

man do, but be merry? For, look you, how chearfully

my