to fignify this to his Dodor: for, for me to put him to his purgation, would, perhaps, plunge him into more choler.

Guild. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and ftart not fo wildly from my affair.

Ham. I am tame, Sir;-pronounce.

Guil. The Queen your mother, in most great affliction of fpirit, hath fent me to you.

Ham. You are welcome.

Guil. Nay, good my lord, this Courtesy is not of the right Breed. If it fhall please you to make me a wholesome anfwer, I will do your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon, and my return fhall be the end of my bufinefs. Ham. Sir, I cannot.

Guil. What, my lord?

Ham. Make you a wholefome anfwer: my wit's difeas'd. But, Sir, fuch anfwer as I can make, you fhall command; or, rather, as you fay, my mothertherefore no more but to the matter-my mother, you fay

Rof. Then thus fhe fays; your behaviour hath Aruck her into amazement, and admiration.

Ham. O wonderful fon, that can so astonish a mother! But is there no fequel at the heels of this mother's admiration?

Rof. She defires to fpeak with you in her closet, ere you go to bed.

Ham. We fhall obey, were fhe ten times our moHave you any further trade with us?

Rof. My lord, you once did love me.

[ther,

Ham. So I do ftill, by these pickers and stealers. Rof. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you do, furely, bar the door of your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to your friend. Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.

Rof. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself, for your fucceffion in Denmark?

Ham.

Ham. Ay, but while the grafs grows the Proverb is fomething mufty.

Enter one, with a Recorder.

Oh, the Recorders; let me fee one. To withdraw with you-why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil? Guil. Oh my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.

Ham. I do not well understand that.

play upon this pipe?

Guil. My lord, I cannot.

Ham. I pray you.

Guil. Believe me, I cannot.

Ham. I do befeech you.

Guil. I know no touch of it, my lord.

Will you

Ham. 'Tis as eafy as lying; govern these ventiges with your fingers and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will difcourfe moft eloquent mufic. Look you, thefe are the ftops.

Guil. But thefe cannot I command to any utterance of harmony; I have not the skill.

Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me; you would play upon me, you would feem to know my ftops; you would pluck out the heart of my myftery; you would found me from my loweft note, to the top of my compass; and there is much mufic, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. Why, do you think, that I am eafier to be play'd on than a pipe? call me what inftrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me. God bless you, Sir.

Enter Polonius.

Pol. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.

Ham. Do you fee yonder cloud, that's almost in fhape of a Camel?

Pol.

Pol. By the mass, and it's like a Camel, indeed. Ham. Methinks, it is like an Ouzle,

Pol. It is black like an Ouzle.

Ham. Or, like a Whale?

Pol. Very like a Whale.

Ham. Then will I come to my mother by and bythey fool me to the top of my bent.-I will come by and by.

Pot. I will fay fo.

Ham. By and by is eafily faid. Leave me, friends.

[Exeunt.

'Tis now the very witching time of night, When Churchyards yawn, and hell itself breaths out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hotblood,

* And do fuch business as the better day

Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mother-
O heart, lofe not thy nature; let not ever
This foul of Nero enter this firm bosom;
Let me be cruel, not unnatural;

I will fpeak daggers to her, but ufe none.
My tongue and foul in this be hypocrites;
How in my words foever fhe be fhent,
To give them feals never my foul confent!

[Exit.

Enter King, Rofincrantz, and Guildenflern.

King I

I

your

Like him not, nor ftands it fafe with us
To let his madnefs range. Therefore, pre-

pare you;

Commiffion will forthwith difpatch,

And he to England fhall along with you.

And do fuch bitter business as the day

Would quake to lock on.- -] The old Quarto reads,

And do fuch bufiness as the bitter day, &c.

This is a little corrupt indeed, but much nearer Shakespear's Words,

who wrote,

-better day.

Warb.

The

The terms of our estate may not endure
Hazard so near us, as doth hourly grow
Out of his Lunacies.

Guil. We will provide ourselves;
Moft holy and religious fear it is,
To keep thofe many, many, Bodies fafe,
That live and feed upon your Majefty.

Rof. The fingle and peculiar life is bound,
With all the strength and armour of the mind,
To keep itself from noyance; but much more,
That fpirit, on whofe weal depends and refts
The lives of many. The ceafe of Majefty
Dies not alone, but, like a gulf, doth draw
What's near it with it. It's a maffy wheel
Fixt on the fummit of the highest mount,
To whofe huge spokes ten thousand leffer things
Are mortiz'd and adjoin'd; which, when it falls,
Each small annexment, petty confequence,

Attends the boift'rous ruin. Ne'er alone
Did the King figh; but with a gen'ral groan.
King. Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
For we will fetters put upon this fear,

Which now goes too free-footed.

Both. We will hafte us.

Enter Polonius.

[Exeunt Gentlemen.

Pol. My lord, he's gone to his mother's clofet; behind the arras I'll convey myself

To hear the procefs, I'll warrant, fhe'll tax him home. And, as you faid, and wifely was it faid,

'Tis meet, that fome more audience than a mother (Since nature makes them partial,) fhould o'er-hear The fpeech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege; I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,

And tell you what I know.

King. Thanks, dear my lord.

Oh! my offence is rank, it fmells to heav'n,
It hath the primal, eldest, curse upon't;

[Exit.

A

A brother's murder.-Pray I cannot,
*Though inclination be as fharp as th' ill;
My ftronger guilt defeats my ftrong intent:
And, like a man to double business bound,
I ftand in pause where I fhall firft begin,
And both neglect. What if this curfed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood?
Is there not rain enough in the fweet heav'ns
To wash it white as fnow? whereto ferves Mercy,
But to confront the vifage of offence?

And what's in prayer, but this two-fold force,
To be fore-ftalled ere we come to fall,

Or pardon'd being down? then I'll look up ;
My fault is paft.-But oh, what form of prayer
Can ferve my turn? Forgive me my foul mur-

der!

That cannot be, fince I am ftill poffeft

Of thofe effects for which I did the murder,
My Crown, mine own Ambition, and my Queen.
+ May one be pardon'd, and retain th' effects?
In the corrupted currents of this world.
Offence's gilded hand may fhove by justice;
And oft 'tis feen, the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law; but 'tis not so above:
There, is no fhuffling; there, the action lies
In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd,
Ev'n to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To give in evidence. What then? what refts?
Try, what repentance can: What can it not?

Though inclination be as sharp as will;] We fhould read,
Tho' inclination be as fharp as th' ill;

e. i. tho' my Inclination makes me as reftlefs and uneafy as my Crime does. Warb.

May one be pardon'd, and retain th' offence?] This is a strange. Queftion; and much the fame as to ask whether his Offence could be remitted while it was retain'd. Shakespear here repeated a Word with Propriety and Elegance which he employed two Lines above, May one be pardon'd and retain th' Effe&s?

i. . of his murder, and this was a reasonable Question. Warb.

Yet