Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide;
But with the whif and wind of his fell fword,
Th' unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
Stoops to his Base; and with a hideous crash
Takes prifoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo, his fword,
Which was declining on the milky head
Of rev'rend Priam, seem'd i' th' air to stick:
So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood;
And, like a neutral to his will and matter,.
Did nothing.

But as we often see, against some storm,
A filence in the heav'ns, the rack stand still,
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region: So after Pyrrhus' pause,
A roused vengeance sets him new a work,
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
On Mars his armour, forg'd for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.

Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! all you Gods,
In general fynod take away her power:
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heav'n,
As low as to the fiends.

Pol. This is too long.

Ham. It shall to th' barber's with your beard. Pr'ythee, say on; he's for a jigg, or a tale of bawdry, or he fleeps. Say on, come to Hecuba.

I Play. But who, oh! who, had feen 7 the mobled Queen,

7-the mobled Queen,-] Mobled or mabled, fignifies veiled. So Sandys, speaking of the Turkish women, says, their heads and faces are MABLED in fine linen,

that no more is to be seen of them than their eyes. Travels.

WARBURTON.

Mobled fignifies, huddled, grossly

:

Ham. The mobled Queen ?
Pol. That's good; mobled Queen, is good.

1 Play. Run bare-foot up and down, threatning the

flames

1.

With bisson rheum! a clout upon that head,
Where late the Diadem stood; and for a robe
About her lank and all-o'er-teemed loins,
A blanket in th' alarm of fear caught up;
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,
'Gainst fortune's state would treason have pronounc'd;
But if the Gods themselves did fee her then,
When she faw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
In mincing with his fword her husband's limbs;
The instant burst of clamour that she made,
Unless things mortal move them not at all,
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heav'n,
And passion in the Gods.

1

Pol. Look, whe're he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's eyes. Pr'ythee, no more.

Ham. 'Tis well. I'll have thee speak out the rest of this foon. Good my Lord, will you fee the Players 'well bestow'd? Do ye hear, let them be well us'd; for they are the abstract, and brief chronicles of the time. After your death, you were better have a bad Epitaph, than their ill report while you liv'd.

Pol. My Lord, I will use them according to their defert.

Ham, Odd's bodikins, man, much better. Use every man after his defert, and who shall 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deferve, the more merit is in your boun-ty. Take them in.

Pol. Come, Sirs.

[Exit Polonius.

Ham. Follow him, Friends: we'll hear a play tomorrow. Dost thou hear me, old friend, can you

play the murder of Gonzaga?

Play. Ay, my Lord.

Ham.

Ham. We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of fome dozen or fixteen lines, which I would fet down, and infert in't? could ye not?

Play. Ay, my Lord.

Ham. Very well.

Follow that Lord, and, look,

you mock him not.

My good friends, [to Rof. and

Guild.] I'll leave you

'till night. You are welcome to

Elfinoor.

Rof. Good my Lord.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.

Manet Hamlet.

Ham. Ay, fo, God b'wi'ye. Now I am alone.
Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous that this Player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of paffion,
Could force his foul so to his own conceit,
That, from her working, & all his visage wan'd:
Tears in his eyes, distraction in his afpect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting,
With forms, to his conceit? and all for nothing?
For Hecuba?

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue for passion,

That I have? He would drown the stage with tears.

8 all his visage WARM'D:) This might do, did not the old Quarto lead us to a more exact and pertinent reading, which is, - visage WAN'D: i.ve. turn'd pale, or wan. For

۱

so the visage appears when the mind is thus affectioned, and not warm'd or flushed. WARB. 9-the cue for paffion,] The hint, the direction.

And

And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
Make mad the guilty, and appall the free;
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed,
The very faculty of ears and eyes.

Yet I,

A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my caufe,..
And can say nothing. No, not for a King,
Upon whose property and most dear life

3 A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain, breaks my pate a- cross,
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by th' nose, gives me the lye i' th' throat,
As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?
Yet I should take it for it cannot be,
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppreffion bitter; or, ere this,
I should have fatted all the region kites
With this slave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain !
Remorseless, treacherous, letcherous, 4 kindless vil-

lain!

Why, what an ass am I ? this is most brave,
That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heav'n and hell,
Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a cursing like a very drab,
A Scullion. Fy upon't! foh!
$ About, my brain! I've heard,
That guilty creatures, fitting at a Play,
Have by the very cunning of the Scene

the general ear-] The ears of all mankind. So before, Caviare to the general, that is, to the multitude.

2-unpregnant of my cause,] Unpregnant, for having no due sense of. WARBURTΟΝ.

Rather, not quickened with a

new defire of vengeance; not teeming with revenge.

3 A damn'd defeat was made.] Defeat, for deftruction. WARB. Rather, difpoffeffion. 4-kindiess-] Unnatural. 5 About, my brain!] Wits, to your work. Brain, go about the present business.

Been

1

Been struck so to the foul, that presently
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,
Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick, 7 if he but blench,
I know my course. This Spirit, that I have seen,
May be the Devil; and the Devil hath power
T'assume a pleasing shape; yea, and, perhaps,
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
As he is very potent with such spirits,
Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds
• More relative than this: The Play's the thing,
Wherein I'll catch the Confcience of the King. [Exit.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The PALACE.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrantz,

A

Guildenstern, and Lords.

KING.

ND can you by no drift of conference

Get from him why he puts on this confufion,

Grating so harshly all his days of quiet,
With turbulent and dang'rous lunacy?