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Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
But come!-

Here, as before, never, so help you mercy!
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on,

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As, Well, well, we know ;-or, We could, an if
we would; or, If we list to speak; or, There
be, an if they might;

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Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me. This do you swear,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you!
Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear!

Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is

May do, to 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;-O cursed spite!
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay, come, let's go together!

SCENE I.

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[Exeunt.

A room in POLONIUS's house.
Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO.

Pol. Give him this money,and these notes, Reynaldo!
Rey. I will, my lord!

Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, Before you visit him, to make inquiry Of his behaviour.

Rey. My lord, I did intend it.

Pol. Marry, well said! very well said! Look you, sir, Inquire 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 nearer, Than your particular demands will touch it: Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;| As thus, I know his father, and his friends, And, in part, him ; · do you mark this, Reynaldo? Rey. Ay, very well, my lord!

Pol. And, in part, him;-but, you may say, not well: But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; Addicted so and so; and there put on him What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank may dishonour him; take heed of that;

As

But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips,

As are companions noted and most known

To youth and liberty.

Rey. As gaming, my lord.

Pol. Marry, sir, here's my drift!
And, I believe, it is a fetch of warrant;
You laying these slight sullies on my son,
As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'the working,
Mark you,

Your party in converse, him you would sound,
Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes,
The youth you breathe of, guilty, be assur'd,
He closes with you in this consequence,
Good sir, or so; 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? - By the mass, I was about to say something: where did I leave? Rey. At, closes in the consequence.

Pol. At, closes in the consequence,- Ay marry: He closes with you thus:- I know the gentleman; I saw him yesterday, or t'other day,

Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you

say,

There was he gaming; there o'ertook in his rouse;
There falling out at tennis: or perchance,
I saw him enter such a house of sale,
(Videlicet, a brothel,) or so forth.

See you now;

Your bait of falsehood 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 be wi' you; fare you well!
Rey. Good my lord,

Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself!
Rey. I shall, my lord!

Pol. And let him ply his music!
Rey. Well, my lord!

Enter OPHELIA.

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[Exit.

Pol. Farewell! matter? Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! Pol. With what, in the name of heaven? Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport,

How now, Ophelia? what's the

As if he had been loosed out of hell,

To speak of horrors, he comes before me. Pol. Mad for thy love?

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

Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrel- Pol. What said he?

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That's not my meaning; but breathe his faults so And thrice his head thus waving up and down,

quaintly,

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

He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound,
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk,
And end his being. That done, he lets me go:
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o'doors he went without their helps,
And, to the last, bended their light on me.
Pol. Come, go with me! I will go seek the king.
This is the very ecstacy' of love,

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I am sorry, that with better heed and judgment,
I had not quoted him: I fear'd, he did but trifle,
And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy!
It seems, it is as proper to our age

To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions,
As it is common for the younger sort
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king!
This must be known; which, being kept close,
might move

More grief to hide, than hate to utter love.
Come!

[Exeunt. SCENE II.A room in the castle. Enter King, Queen, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants.

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Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege,
I hold my duty, as I hold my soul,
Both to my God, and to my gracious king:
And I do think, (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of policy so sure,
As it hath us'd to do,) that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

King.Welcome,dear Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern! Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need, we have to use you, did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it, Since not the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from the understanding of himself, I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,

-

That, being of so young days brought up with him;

King. O, speak of that; that do I long to hear! Pol. Give first admittance to the ambassadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in! [Exit Polonius He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found The head and source of all your son's distemper. Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main; His father's death, and our o'er hasty marriage. Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and COST

And, since, so neighbour'd to his youth and hu

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And, sure I am, two men there are not living,
To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
To show us so much gentry, and good will,
As to expend your time with us a while,
For the supply and profit of our hope,
Your visitation shall receive such thanks
As fits a king's remembrance.

Ros. Both your majesties

Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command, Than to entreaty.

Guil. But we both obey;

And here give up ourselves, in the full bent,
To lay our service freely at your feet,
To be commanded.

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of

LIUS.

King. Well, we shall sift him. - Welcome, my good friends!

Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of greetings, and desires!
Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd
To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack;
But, better look'd into, be truly found
It was against your highness. Whereat griev'd, -
That so his sickness, age, and impotence,
Was falsely borne in hand, - sends out arrests
On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;
Receives rebuke from Norway; and, in fine,
Makes vow before his uncle, never more
To give th' assay of arms against your majesty
Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee;
And his commission, to employ those soldiers,
So levied as before, against the Polack:
With an entreaty, herein further shown,
[Gives a pape
That it might please you to give quiet pass
Through your dominions for this enterprize;
On such regards of safety, and allowance,
As therein are set down.

King. Thank, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guilden

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And I beseech you instantly to visit

My too much changed son.- Go, some of you,
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is!
Guil. Heavens make our presence, and our prac-
tices,

Pleasant and helpful to him!
Queen. Ay, amen!

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Most welcome home!

[Exeunt Voltimand and Corneliu
Pol. This business is well ended.
My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad:
Mad call I it; for, to define true maduess,
What is't, but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go!

Queen. More matter, with less art!
Pol. Madam, I swear, I use no art at all!
That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true, 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.

[Exeunt Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Mad let us grant him then and now remains,

some Attendants.

That we find out the cause of this effect;

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Or, rather say, the cause of this defect;
For this effect, defective, comes by cause:
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.
Perpend!

I have a daughter; have, while she is mine;
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise.

- To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most
beautified Ophelia,

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; beautified is a vile phrase; but you shall hear. Thus:

In her excellent white bosom, these, etc. Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?

Pol. Good madam, stay awhile! I will be faith

ful.

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Mark the encounter: if he love her not,
And be not from his reason fallen thereon,
Let me be no assistant for a state,

But keep a farm, and carters.
King. We will try it.

Enter HAMLET, reading.

Queen. But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away!
I'll board him presently:-0, give me leave! —
[Exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants.

How does my good lord Hamlet?
Ham. Well, god-'a-mercy!

Pol. Do you know me, my lord?
Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
Pol. Not I, my lord!

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Pol. Honest, my lord?

Ham. Ay, sir! to be honest, as this world goes,
is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
Pol. That's very true, my lord!
Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog,
being a god, kissing carrion,
Have you a
daughter?

Pol. I have, my lord!

Ham. Let her not walk i'the san: conception is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive, friend, look to't!

Pol. How say you by that? [Aside.] Still harping on my daughter:-yet he knew me not at first; he said, I was a fishmonger. He is far gone, far gone: and, truly in my youth I suffered much extremity

What do you read, my lord?

Ham. Words, words, words!
Pol. What is the matter, my lord?
Ham. Between who?

Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord! Ham. Slanders, sir! for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams. All of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you for love; very near this. I'll speak to him again.-
think,
When I had seen this hot love on the wing,
(As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,
Before my daughter told me,) what might you,
Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
If I had play'd the desk, or table-book;
Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb;
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;
What might you think? no, I went round to work,
And my young mistress thus did I bespeak;
Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere;
This must not be: and then I precepts gave her,
That she should lock herself from his resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;
And he, repulsed, (a short tale to make,)
Fell into a sadness; then into a fast;
Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,
And all we mourn for.

King. Do you think, 'tis this?

Queen. It may be, very likely.

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. Aside.] Will you walk out of the air, my lord?

Ham. Into my grave.

Pol. Indeed, that is out o' the air. - How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting be

Pol. Hath there been such a time, (I'd fain know tween him and my daughter. My honourable lord,

that,)

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I will most humbly take my leave of you.

Ham. You caunot, sir, take from me any thing
that I will more willingly part withal; except my
life, except my life, except my life.
Pol. Fare you well, my lord!
Ham. These tedious old fools!

Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is.
Ros. God save you, sir!

Guil. My honour'd lord!-
Ros. My most dear lord!

[To Polonius. [Exit Polonius.

Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do

Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: ye both? you and I behind an arras then;

Be

Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth.

Guil. Happy, in that we are not over-happy; On fortune's cap we are not the very button. Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?

Ros. Neither, my lord!

and queen moult no feather. I have of late, (but,
wherefore, I know not,) lost all my mirth, foregone
all custom of exercises: and, indeed, it goes so
heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame,

Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the the earth, seems to me a steril promontory; this
middle of her favours?

Guil. 'Faith, her privates we.
Ham. In the secret parts of fortune? O, most
true; she is a strumpet. What news?
Ros. None, my lord! but that the world's grown

honest.

Ham. Then is dooms-day near, But your news is not true. Let me question more in particular. What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, that she sends you to prison hither?

Guil. Prison, my lord!

Ham. Denmark's a prison.
Ros. Then is the world one.

Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark being one of the worst.

Ros. We think not so, my lord!

Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it is a prison.

Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.

Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space; were it not that I have bad dreams.

Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.

most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
o'er-hanging firmament, this majestical rooffretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! How noble in
reason! how infinite in faculties! in form, and
moving, how express and admirable! in action, how
like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the
beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! Aad
yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man
delights not me, nor woman neither; though, by your
smiling, you seem to say so.

Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's shadow. Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies: and our monarchs, and outstretch'd heroes, the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I

cannot reason.

Ros. My lord, there is no such stuff in my thoughts. Ham. Why did you laugh then, when I said, Man delights not me?

Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man what lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they coming, to offer you service. Ham. He that plays the king, shall be welcome; his majesty shall have tribute of me: the adventurous knight shall use his foil, and target: the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humorous man shall end his part in peace: the clown shall make those laugh, whose lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for't. What players are they? Ros. Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the tragedians of the city. Ham. How chances it, they travel? their residence, both in reputation and profit, was better both ways Ros. I think, their inhibition comes by the meas of the late innovation.

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Guil. What should we say, my lord? Ham. Any thing but to the purpose. You were sent for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: I know, the good king and queen have sent for you.

Ros. To what end, my lord?

Hum. Do they hold the same estimation they di when I was in the city? Are they so followed? Ros. No indeed, they are not.

are

Ham. How comes it? Do they grow rusty? Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but there is, sir, an aiery of children, litte eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and ar most tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the fashion; and so berattle the common stages, (sa they call them) that many, wearing rapiers, t afraid of goose quills, and dare scarce come thither. Ham. What, are they children? who maintains them? how are they escuted? Will they pursue the quality no longer, than they can sing? will they net say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common players, (as it is most like, if their meas are no better,) their writers do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their own succession? Ros. 'Faith, there has been much to do on bet sides; and the nation holds it no sin, to tarre the on to controversy: there was, for a while no mor bid for argument, unless the poet and the playe went to cuil's in the question. Ham. Is it possible?

Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no? Ros. What say you? [To Guildenstern, Ham. Nay, then I have an eye of you; [Aside.] - if you love me, hold not off. Guil. My lord, we were sent for.

Guil. O, there has been much throwing about e

brains.

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Ham. It is not very strange: for of Denmark; and those, that would make months him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, f

in lit

Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king 'Sblood, there is something in this more than saturs:

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if philosophy could find it out.

[Flourish of trumpets within.

Guil. There are the players. Ham. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands! Come then! the appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb; lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, must show fairly outward, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my uncle-father, and aunt-mother, are deceived.

Guil. In what, my dear lord?

Ham. I am but mad north-north west; when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand-saw. Enter POLONIUS.

Pol. Well be with you, gentlemen! Ham. Hark you, Guildenstern!- and you, too! at each ear a hearer: that great baby, you see there, is not yet out of his swaddling-clouts. Ros. Happily, he's the second time come to them; for, they say, an old man is twice a child.

Ham. I will prophecy, he comes to tell me of the players; mark it! You say right, sir! o'Monday morning; 'twas then, indeed!

Pol. My lord, I have news to tell you.

cried in the top of mine,) an excellent play; well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember, one said, there were no sallets in the lines, to make the matter savoury; nor no matter in the phrase, that might indite the author of affection: but called it, an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I chiefly loved; 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of Priams's slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this line; let me see, let me see!

The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,—
'tis not so; it begins with Pyrrhus.

The rugged Pyrrhus, he, whose sable arms,
Black as his purpose, did the night resemble,
When he lay couched in the ominous horse,
Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd
With heraldry more dismal; head to foot
Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd
With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons;
Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets,
That lend a tyrannous and a damned light
To their lord's murder. Roasted in wrath, and fire,
And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore,

Ham. My lord, I have news to tell you. When With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
Roscius was an actor in Rome,

Pol. The actors are come hither, my lord!
Ham. Buz, buz!

Pol. Upon my honour,

Ham. Then came each actor on his ass, Pol. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light. For the law of writ, and the liberty, these are the only men.

Ham. O Jephthah, judge of Israel,-what a treasure hadst thou!

Pol. What a treasure had he, my lord?
Ham. Why One fair daughter, and no more,
The which he loved passing well.

[Aside.

Pol. Still on my daughter.
Ham. Am I not i'the right, old Jephthah?
Pol. If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a
daughter that I love passing well.
Ham. Nay, that follows not.

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Pol. What follows then, my lord? Ham. Why, As by lot, God wot, and then, you know, It came to pass, As most like it was,-The first row ot the pious chanson will show you more; for look, my abridgment comes.

Enter four or five Players.

You are welcome, masters! welcome, all! I am glad to see thee well!-welcome, good friends! — O, old friend! Why, thy face is valanced since I saw thee last! Com'st thou to beard me in Denmark? What! my young lady and mistress! By-'r-lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven, than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring. Masters, you are all welcome! We'll e'en to it like French falconers, fly at any thing we see. We'll have a speech straight: Come, give us a taste of your quality! come, a passionate speech!

Old grandsire Priam seeks; - So proceed you!
Pol. 'Fore God, my lord, well spoken! with good
accent, and good discretion!

1 Play. Anon he finds him
Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command. Unequal match'd,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage, strikes wide
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
Stoops to his base; and with a hideous crash
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword
Which was declining on the milky head
Of reverend Priam, seem'd in the air to stick ;
So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood;
And, like a neutral to his will and matter,
Did nothing.

But, as we often see, against some storm,
4 silence in the heavens, the rack stands still,
The bold wind speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death: anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region. So, after Pyrrhus' pause,
4 roused vengeance sets him new a work;
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne,
With less remorse, than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.

Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,
In general synod, take away her power:
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,
As low as to the fiends!
Pol. This is too long.

Ham. It shall to the 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. But who, ah woe! had seen the mobled queen Ham. The mobled queen?

Pol. That's good! mobled queen is good!

1 Play. What speech, my lord?
Ham. I heard thee speak me a speech once,-but
it was never acted; or, if it was, not above once: With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head,
for the play, I remember, pleased not the million; Where late the diadem stood; and, for a robe,
'twas caviare to the general: but it was (as I receiv-About her lank and all o'er-teeming loins,
ed it, and others, whose judgments, in such matters, A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;

1 Play. Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning
the flames

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