第 14 节

poore aduanc'd, makes Friends of Enemies: And hitherto doth Loue on Fortune tend, For who not needs, shall neuer lacke a Frend: And who in want a hollow Friend doth try, Directly seasons him his Enemie. But orderly to end, where I begun, Our Willes and Fates do so contrary run, That our Deuices still are ouerthrowne, Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne. So thinke thou wilt no second Husband wed. But die thy thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead

Bap. Nor Earth to giue me food, nor Heauen light, Sport and repose locke from me day and night: Each opposite that blankes the face of ioy, Meet what I would haue well, and it destroy: Both heere, and hence, pursue me lasting strife, If once a Widdow, euer I be Wife

Ham. If she should breake it now

King. 'Tis deepely sworne: Sweet, leaue me heere a while, My spirits grow dull, and faine I would beguile The tedious day with sleepe

Qu. Sleepe rocke thy Braine,

Sleepes

And neuer come mischance betweene vs twaine.

Exit

Ham. Madam, how like you this Play? Qu. The Lady protests to much me thinkes

Ham. Oh but shee'l keepe her word

King. Haue you heard the Argument, is there no Offence in't? Ham. No, no, they do but iest, poyson in iest, no Offence i'th' 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 Dukes name, his wife Baptista: you shall see anon: 'tis a knauish peece of worke: But what o'that? Your Maiestie, and wee that haue free soules, it touches vs not: let the gall'd iade winch: our withers are vnrung. Enter Lucianus.

This is one Lucianus nephew to the King

Ophe. You are a good Chorus, my Lord

Ham. I could interpret betweene you and your loue: if I could see the Puppets dallying

Ophe. You are keene my Lord, you are keene

Ham. It would cost you a groaning, to take off my edge

Ophe. Still better and worse

Ham. So you mistake Husbands. Begin Murderer. Pox, leaue thy damnable Faces, and begin. Come, the croaking Rauen doth bellow for Reuenge

Lucian. Thoughts blacke, hands apt, Drugges fit, and Time agreeing: Confederate season, else, no Creature seeing: Thou mixture ranke, of Midnight Weeds collected, With Hecats Ban, thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy naturall Magicke, and dire propertie, On wholsome life, vsurpe immediately.

Powres the poyson in his eares.

Ham. He poysons him i'th' Garden for's estate: His name's Gonzago: the Story is extant and writ in choyce Italian. You shall see anon how the Murtherer gets the loue of Gonzago's wife

Ophe. The King rises

Ham. What, frighted with false fire

Qu. How fares my Lord? Pol. Giue o're the Play

King. Giue me some Light. Away

All. Lights, Lights, Lights.

Exeunt.

Manet Hamlet & Horatio.

Ham. Why let the strucken Deere go weepe, The Hart vngalled play: For some must watch, while some must sleepe; So runnes the world away. Would not this Sir, and a Forrest of Feathers, if the rest of my Fortunes turne Turke with me; with two Prouinciall Roses on my rac'd Shooes, get me a Fellowship in a crie of Players sir

Hor. Halfe a share

Ham. A whole one I, For thou dost know: Oh Damon deere, This Realme dismantled was of Ioue himselfe, And now reignes heere. A verie verie Paiocke

Hora. You might haue Rim'd

Ham. Oh good Horatio, Ile take the Ghosts word for a thousand pound. Did'st perceiue? Hora. Verie well my Lord

Ham. Vpon the talke of the poysoning? Hora. I did verie well note him. Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterne.

Ham. Oh, ha? Come some Musick. Come y Recorders: For if the King like not the Comedie, Why then belike he likes it not perdie. Come some Musicke

Guild. Good my Lord, vouchsafe me a word with you

Ham. Sir, a whole History

Guild. The King, sir

Ham. I sir, what of him? Guild. Is in his retyrement, maruellous distemper'd

Ham. With drinke Sir? Guild. No my Lord, rather with choller

Ham. Your wisedome should shew it selfe more richer, to signifie this to his Doctor: for for me to put him to his Purgation, would perhaps plundge him into farre more Choller

Guild. Good my Lord put your discourse into some frame, and start not so wildely from my affayre

Ham. I am tame Sir, pronounce

Guild. The Queene your Mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you

Ham. You are welcome

Guild. Nay, good my Lord, this courtesie is not of the right breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholsome answer, I will doe your Mothers command'ment: if not, your pardon, and my returne shall bee the end of my Businesse

Ham. Sir, I cannot

Guild. What, my Lord? Ham. Make you a wholsome answere: my wits diseas'd. But sir, such answers as I can make, you shal command: or rather you say, my Mother: therfore no more but to the matter. My Mother you say

Rosin. Then thus she sayes: your behauior hath stroke her into amazement, and admiration

Ham. Oh wonderfull Sonne, that can so astonish a Mother. But is there no sequell at the heeles of this Mothers admiration? Rosin. She desires to speake with you in her Closset, ere you go to bed

Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our Mother. Haue you any further Trade with vs? Rosin. My Lord, you once did loue me

Ham. So I do still, by these pickers and stealers

Rosin. Good my Lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do freely barre the doore of your owne Libertie, if you deny your greefes to your Friend

Ham. Sir I lacke Aduancement

Rosin. How can that be, when you haue the voyce of the King himselfe, for your Succession in Denmarke? Ham. I, but while the grasse growes, the Prouerbe is something musty. Enter one with a Recorder.

O the Recorder. Let me see, to withdraw with you, why do you go about to recouer the winde of mee, as if you would driue me into a toyle? Guild. O my Lord, if my Dutie be too bold, my loue is too vnmannerly

Ham. I do not well vnderstand that. Will you play vpon this Pipe? Guild. My Lord, I cannot

Ham. I pray you

Guild. Beleeue me, I cannot

Ham. I do beseech you

Guild. I know no touch of it, my Lord

Ham. 'Tis as easie as lying: gouerne these Ventiges with your finger and thumbe, giue it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most excellent Musicke. Looke you, these are the stoppes

Guild. But these cannot I command to any vtterance of hermony, I haue not the skill

Ham. Why looke you now, how vnworthy a thing you make of me: you would play vpon mee; you would seeme to know my stops: you would pluck out the heart of my Mysterie; you would sound mee from my lowest Note, to the top of my Compasse: and there is much Musicke, excellent Voice, in this little Organe, yet cannot you make it. Why do you thinke, that I am easier to bee plaid on, then a Pipe? Call me what Instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play vpon me. God blesse you Sir. Enter Polonius.