And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, Pol. This is too long. Ham. It fhall to the barber's, with your beard.-Pr’ythee, fay on :-He's for a jig, or a tale of bawdry, or he fleeps:-fay on: come to Hecuba. 1. Play. But who, ab woe! had seen the mobled queenHam. The mobled queen? Pol. That's good; mobled queen is good. [flames 1. Play. Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; 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 of this foon.-Good my lord, will you fee the players well beftow'd? Do you hear, let them be well ufed; for they are the abstract, 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. Odds bodikin, man, much better: Ufe every man after his desert, and who shall 'scape whipping? Use E them them after your own honour and dignity: The lefs they deferve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. Pol. Come, firs. Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.-Doft thou hear me, old friend? can you play the murder of Gonzago? 1. Play. Ay, my lord. Ham. We'll have it to-morrow night. You could, for a need, ftudy a fpeech of fome dozen or fixteen lines, which I would fet down, and infert in't? could you not? 1. Play. Ay, my lord. Ham. Very well.-Follow that lord; and look you mock him not. [Exeunt POLONIUS and Players.] My good friends, [To Ros. and GUIL.] I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elfinore. Rof. Good, my lord! [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN, Ham. Ay fo, God be wi' you :-Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant flave am I! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of paffion, Could force his foul fo to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his vifage wann'd. Tears in his eyes, distraction in's afpect, A broken voice, and his whole function fuiting 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, The The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rafcal, peak, A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? Ha! Why, I fhould take it: for it cannot be, That I, the fon of a dear father murder'd, Muft, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, A fcullion! Fie upon't! Foh! About my brains! Humph!-I have heard, That guilty creatures, fitting at a play, They have proclaim'd their malefactions: Before Before mine uncle: I'll obferve his looks; [Exit. ACT ACT III. SCENE I. A Room in the Castle. Enter KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSEN. King. And can you by no drift of conference Rof. He does confefs, he feels himself distracted; When we would bring him on to fome confeffion Queen, Did he receive you well? Rof. Moft like a gentleman. Guil. But with much forcing of his difpofition. Rof. Niggard of question; but, of our demands, Moft free in his reply. Queen. Did you affay him To any paftime? Rof. Madam, it fo fell out, that certain players We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him ;; And there did feem in him a kind of joy To hear of it: They are about the court; Pol. 'Tis moft true: And he befeech'd me to entreat your majesties |