Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; P. Queen. O, confound the rest! Such love must needs be treason in my breast; None wed the second, but who killed the first. P. Queen. The instances, that second marriage move, When second husband kisses me in bed. P. King. I do believe you think what now you speak: But, what we do determine oft we break. Purpose is but the slave to memory; Of violent birth, but poor validity; Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt. Their own enactures with themselves destroy; But, orderly to end where I begun,- Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. But die thy thoughts, when thy first lord is dead. P. Queen. Nor earth to give me food, nor heaven light! Sport and repose lock from me day and night! To desperation turn my trust and hope! An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope Each opposite, that blanks the face of joy, Meet what I would have well, and it destroy! Both here, and hence, pursue me lasting strife, If, once a widow, ever I be wife! Ham. If she should break it now, [To ОPH. P. King. 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here a while; My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile P. Queen. [Sleeps. Sleep rock thy brain; And never come mischance between us twain! [Exit. Ham. Madam, how like you this play? Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. Ham. O, but she'll keep her word. King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in't? Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i' the world. King. What do you call the play? Ham. The mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna; Gonzago is the duke's name; his wife, Baptista; you shall see anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work. But what of that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not. Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.- Enter LUCIANUS. This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen. Ham. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. Oph. Still better, and worse. Ham. So you mistake your husbands.-Begin, murderer, -leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come;-The croaking raven Doth bellow for revenge. Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; Confederate season, else no creature seeing; Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecat's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, On wholesome life usurp immediately. [Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears. Ham. He poisons him i' the garden for his estate. His name's Gonzago; the story is extant, and written in very choice Italian: you shall see, anon, how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. Oph. The king rises. Ham. What! frighted with false fire! Queen. How fares my lord? Pol. Give o'er the play. King. Give me some light; away! Pol. Lights, lights, lights! [Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO. Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep, For some must watch, while some must sleep; Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers, (if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me,) with two Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir? Hor. Half a share. Ham. A whole one, I. For thou dost know, O Damon dear, This realm dismantled was Of Jove himself; and now reigns here Hor. You might have rhymed. Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive? Hor. Very well, my lord. Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning, Hor. I did very well note him. Ham. Ah, ha!-come, some music; come, the recorders. For if the king like not the comedy, - Why, then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Come, some music. Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you Ham. Sir, a whole history. Guil. The king, sir, Ham. Ay, sir, what of him? Guil. Is, in his retirement, marvellous distempered. VOL. IV.-34 2 U |