Pluckes off my beard, and blowes it in my face,
Twekes me by the nofe, giues me the lie i'th throate
As deepe as to the lunges: who does me this,
Hah! s'wounds I fhould take it for it cannot be
But I am pidgion liuerd, and lacke gall
To make oppreffion bitter, or ere this
I should haue* fatted all the region kytes
With this flaues offall, bloody, baudy villaine,

Remorfeleffe, treacherous, letcherous, kindleffe villaine.

Why what an affe am I? this is most braue,
That I the fonne of a deere father + murthered,
Prompted to my reuenge by heauen and hell,

Must like a whore vnpack my heart with words,

And fall a curfing like a very drabbe; a ftallion, fie vppont, fob.

About my braines ‡, hum, I haue heard,
That guilty creatures fitting at a play,
Haue by the very cunning of the scene,
Beene ftrooke so to the foule, that presently
They haue proclaim'd their malefactions:
For murther though it haue no tongue will speake
With most miraculous organ. Ile haue these players
Play fomthing like the murther of my father
Before mine vncle, Ile obferue his lookes,

Ile tent him to the quicke, if a do blench

I know my courfe. The fpirit that I haue feene
May be a diuell §, and the diuell § hath power
T'affume a pleasing shape; yea and perhaps,
Out of my weakeneffe and my melancholly,
As hee is very potent with fuch spirits,
Abuses mee to damne mee; Ile haue grounds
More relatiue then this, the play's the thing
Wherein Ile catch the conscience of the king.

+ father omitted. braues. § deale

Exit.

Enter

Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencraus, Guyldenfterne, lords.

King. And can you by no drift of conference Get from him why hee puts on this confufion, Grating fo harshly all his dayes of quiet

With turbulent and dangerous lunacie?

Rof. He dooes confeffe he feeles himfelfe diftracted,
But from what caufe a will by no meanes fpeake.
Guyi. Nor do wee find him forward to be founded,
But with a crafty madnes keepes aloofe

When we would bring him on to fome confeffion.
Of his true ftate.

Quee. Did he receive you well?

Rof. Moft like a gentleman.

Guyl. But with much forcing of his difpofition. Ref. Niggard of queftion, but of our demands Moft free in his reply.

Quee. Did you affay him to any pastime?

Rof. Maddam, it fo fell out that certaine players
We ore-raught on the way, of thefe we told him,
And there did feeme in him a kind of ioy

To heare of it: they are heere about the court,
And as I thinke, they haue already order
This night to play before him.

Pol. Tis moft true,

And he befeecht me to intreat

To heare and fee the matter.

King. With all my heart, And it doth much content me To heare him fo inclin'd.

Good gentlemen giue him a futher edge,

And driue his purpose into these delights.

Rof. We fhall my lord.

Exeunt Rof. and Guyl.

Kin. Sweet Gertrard, leaue vs two,
For we haue clofely fent for Hamlet hether,
That he as t'were by accident, may heere
Affront Ophelia; her father and my felfe,
Wee'le fo beftow our felues, that feeing vnfeene,
We may of their encounter franckely iudge,
And gather by him as he is behau'd,

Ift be th' affliction of his loue or no
That thus he suffers for.

Quee, I fhall obey you.

And for my part Ophelia, I doe wish

That your good beauties be the happy caufe

Of Hamlets wildnes, fo fhall I hope your vertues

Will bring him to his wonted way againe,

To both your honours.

Ophe. Maddam, I wish it may.

Pol. Ophelia walke you heere: gracious so please you,

We will beftow our felues; reade on this booke,

That show of fuch an exercife may collour

Your lowlineffe; we are oft too blame in this,

Tis too much proou'd, that with deuotions vifage
And pious action, we doe fugar ore

The diuell himselfe.

King. O tis too true,

How fmart a lash that fpeech doth giue my confcience?

The harlots cheeke beautied with plastring art,

Is not more ougly to the thing that helps it,

Then is my deede to my moft painted word:
O heauy burthen.

Enter Hamlet.

Pol. I heare him comming, with-draw my lord.
Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the question,

Whether tis nobler in the minde to fuffer

The

The flings and arrowes of outragious fortune,
Or to take armes against a sea of troubles,
And by oppofing, end them: to die to sleepe

No more and by a fleepe, to fay we end

:

The hart-ake, and the thousand naturall shocks
That flesh is heire to; tis a confumation

Deuoutly to be wifht to die to fleepe,

To fleepe, perchance to dreame, I there's the rub,
For in that fleepe of death what dreames may come?
When we haue shuffled off this mortall coyle
Muft giue vs pause, there's the respect

That makes calamity of fo long life:

For who would beare the whips and fcornes of time,
Th'oppreffors wrong, the proude man's contumely,
The pangs of office, and the lawes delay,
The infolence of office, and the fpurnes
That patient merrit of th'vnworthy takes,
When himselfe might his quietas † make
With a bare bodkin; who would fardels beare,
To grunt and fweat vnder a weary life?
But that the dread of fomething after death,
The vndiscouer'd country, from whose borne
No trauailer returnes, puzzels the will,

And makes vs rather beare thofe ills we haue,
Then flie to others that wee know not of.
Thus confcience dooes make cowards,
And thus the natiue hiew of refolution
Is fickled ore with the pale caft of thought.
And enterprifes of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turne awry,
And loofe the name of action. Soft you now,
The faire Ophelia, nimph in thy orizons.

Be all my finnes remembred.

defpifed loue. † quietus.

Ophe.

Ophe. Good my lord,

How dooes your honour for this many a day?
Ham. I humbly thanke you; well.

Ophe. My lord, I haue remembrances of yours
That I haue longed long to re-deliuer,

I pray you now receiue them.

Ham. No, not I, I neuer gaue you ought.

Ophe. My honor'd lord, you know right well you did,
And with them words of fo fweet breath compofd
As made these things more rich their perfume loft,
Take these againe, for to the noble mind

Rich gifts wax poore when giuers prooue vnkind,
There my lord.

Ham. Ha, ha, are you honest.

Oph. My lord.

Ham. Are you faire ?

Ophe. What meanes your lordship?

Ham. That if you be honeft and faire, you should admit no difcourfe to your beauty.

Ophe. Could beauty my lord haue better comerce

Then with honesty?

Ham. I truely, for the power of beauty will fooner tranfforme honefty from what it is to a baude, then the force of honefty can tranflate beauty into his likeneffe, this was fometime a paradox, but now the time giues it proofe, I did loue

you once.

Oph. Indeed my lord you made me beleeue fo.

Ham. You fhould not haue beleeu'd me, for vertue cannot fo euacuat † our old stock, but we shall relish of it: I loued you not.

Ophe. I was the more deceiued.

Ham. Get thee a nunry: why would'st thou be a breeder of finners? I am myfelfe indifferent honeft, but yet I could

* iv. +evocutat

accufe