King. With all my heart; and it doth much content me To hear him so inclin'd.

Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,

And drive his purpose on to these delights.

Rof. We shall, my lord.

[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

King. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too.
For we have closely fent for Hamlet hither;
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
Affront Ophelia:

Her father, and myself (lawful espials);
Will fo bestow ourselves, that, feeing, unseen,
We may of their encounter frankly judge;
And gather by him, as he is behav'd,
If't be the affliction of his love, or no,
That thus he fuffers for.

Queen. I shall obey you:

And, for your part, Ophelia, Ido 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.

[Exit QUEEN.

Oph. Madam, I wish it may. Pol. Ophelia, walk you here:-Gracious, so please you, We will bestow ourselves: - Read on this book:

[TO OPHELIA.

That show of fuch 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, do we fugar o'er

The devil himself.

King. O, 'tis too true! how smart

A lash that fpeech doth give my confcience!
The harlot's cheek, beauty'd with plast'ring art,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,

Than

Than is my deed to my most painted word:
O heavy burden!

[Afide.

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:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to fuffer
The flings and arrows of outrageous fortune;
Or to take arms against a fea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them?-To die to fleep-
No more; -and, by a fleep, to say we end
The heart-ach, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, -'tis a confummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die; -to fleep;-
To fleep! perchance to dream; -ay, there's the rub;
For in that fleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us paufe: There's the respect,
That makes calamity of fo long life:

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppreffor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The infolence of office, and the fpurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life;
But that the dread of fomething after death-
The undifcover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns-puzzles the will;
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus confcience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of refolution

E 4

İs

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.-Soft you, now!
The fair Ophelia :-Nymph, in thy orifons
Be all my fins remember'd.

Oph. Good, my lord,

How does your honour for this many a day?
Ham. I humbly thank you; well.

Oph. My lord, I have remembrances of yours,

That I have longed long to re-deliver;

I pray you, now receive them.

Ham. No, not I;

I never gave you aught.

Oph. My honour'd lord, you know right well, you did,.

And, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd,

As made the things more rich: their perfume loft,
Take these again; for, to the noble mind,

Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind,
There, my lord.

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 difcourse to your beauty.

Oph. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will fooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd, than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness: this was fome 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.

Ham. You should not have believed me: for virtue cannot fo inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it: I loved you not.

Oph. I was the more deceived.

Ham. Get thee to a nunnery; why would'st thou be a breeder of finners? I am myself indifferent honeft; but yet I could accufe me of fuch 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 fuch fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? 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 where 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 efcape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery; fare. well: Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wife men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. Farewell. Oph. 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 lifp, and nick-name God's creataures, and make your wantonnefs your ignorance: Go to; I'll no more of't; it hath made me mad. I fay, we will have no more marriages: those that are married already, all but one, shall live: the rest shall keep as they are. Toa nunnery, go..

[Exit HAMLET.

Oph

Oph. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, foldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword:

The expectancy and rose of the fair state,

The glass of fashion, and the mould of form,

The obferv'd of all obfervers! quite, quite down!

And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,

That fuck'd the honey of his music vows,

Now fee that noble and most fovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth,
Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me!

To have seen what I have seen, see what I fee!

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 foul
O'er which his melancholy fits on brood;

And, I do doubt, the hatch, and the disclose,
Will be fome danger. Which, for to prevent,
I have, in quick determination,

Thus set it down: He shall with speed to England,.
For the demand of our neglected tribute:
Haply, the feas, and countries different,
With variable objects, shall expel
This fomething-fettled matter in his heart;
Whereon his brains still beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't?
Pol. It shall do well: But yet I do believe,.

The origin and commencement of his grief
Sprung from neglected love.-How now, Ophelia?
You need not tell us what lord Hamlet faid;
We heard it all. -My lord, do as you please;

But,