Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, A damn'd defeat* was made. Am I a coward? As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this ? Why, I should take it for it cannot be, Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave; A scullion! Fye upon't! foh! About my brains! Humph! I have heard, That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players Play something like the murder of my father, • Destruction. + Unnatural. § Shrink or start. Search his wounds. Out of my weakness, and my melancholy [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I. A room in the castle. Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern. King. And can you by no drift of conference Ros. He does confess, he feels himself distracted; But from what cause, he will by no means speak. Guild. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded; But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state. Queen. Did he receive you well? Guild. But with much forcing of his disposition. Ros. Niggard of question; but, of our demands, Most free in his reply. Queen. To any pastime ?.. Did you assay him Ros. Madam, it so fell out, that certain players We o'er-raught* on the way of these we told him ; And there did seem in him a kind of joy To hear of it: They are about the court; And, as I think, they have already order This night to play before him. Pol. "Tis most true: And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties, "To hear and see the matter. King. With all my heart; and it doth much con tent me To hear him so inclin’d. Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, King. [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Her father, and myself (lawful espials) †, If't be the affliction of his love, or no, Queen. I shall obey you: And, for your part, Ophelia, I do wish, That your good beauties be the happy cause Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope, your virtues Will bring him to his wonted way again, To both your honours. Oph. Madam, I wish it may. [Exit Queen. Pol. Ophelia, walk you here:-Gracious, so please you, We will bestow§ ourselves :-Read on this book; [To Ophelia. That show of such an exercise may colour Your loneliness.-We are oft to blame in this,— 'Tis too much prov'd |,-that, with devotion's visage, And pious action, we do sugar o'er The devil himself. * Meet. + Spies. + Freely. § Place. A Too frequent. King. [Aside. Pol. I hear him coming; let's withdraw, my lord. [Exeunt King and Polonius. Enter Hamlet. Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the question:- For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumelyt, The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, But that the dread of something after death,- * Stir, bustle. + Consideration. Rudeness. The ancient term for a small dagger. ** Boundary, limit. And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; Oph. Oph. My lord, I have remembrances of yours I pray you, now receive them. Ham. I never gave you aught. No, not I; Oph. My honour'd lord, you know right well, you did; And, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. Ham. Ha, ha! are you honest? Oph. My lord? Ham. Are you fair? Oph. What means your lordship? Ham. That if you be honest, and fair, you should admit no discourse to your beauty. Oph. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty? Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd, than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness; this was some time a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once. Oph. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. * Prayers. |