Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, [Exeunt Ros. and GUIL. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too: For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither; 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 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 The devil himself. How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it, [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 who would bear the whips and scorns of time, With a bare bodkin?" who would these fardels bear, b But that the dread of something after death, a Bodkin-a small sword. Cæsar is spoken of, by old writers, as slain by bodkins. Grunt. So the originals. The players, in their squeamishness, always give us groan; and, if they had not the terror of the blank verse before them, they would certainly inflict perspire upon us. And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; Oph. I pray you, now receive them. Ham. No, no. I never gave you aught. Oph. My honour'd lord, I know right well you did; 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, your honesty 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. Ham. You should not have believed me: for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it: I lov'd you not. Oph. I was the more deceived. Ham. Get thee to a nunnery: Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in: What should such fellows as I do crawling between heaven and earth! We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father? Oph. At home, my lord. Ham. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no way but in 's own house. Farewell. Oph. O, help him, you sweet heavens ! Ham. If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go; farewell: Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. Farewell. Oph. O heavenly powers, restore him! Ham. I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another; you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nickname God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance: Go to, I'll no more on 't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: those that are married already, all but one, shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. [Exit HAMLET. Oph. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword: The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, VOL. VII. X The observ'd of all observers! quite, quite, down! To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! Re-enter KING and POLONIUS. King. Love! his affections do not that way tend; Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; And, I do doubt, the hatch, and the disclose, I have, in quick determination, Thus set it down: He shall with speed to England, For the demand of our neglected tribute : With variable objects, shall expel This something-settled matter in his heart; |