Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, Pol. This is too long. Ham. It shall to the barber's, with your beard.— Prithee, say on :-He's for a jig,a or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps:-say on: come to Hecuba. 1 Play. But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen,―― Ham. The mobled b queen ? Pol. That's good: mobled queen is good. 1 Play. Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flame A blanket, in the alarum of fear caught up; When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, Pol. Look, whether he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in 's eyes.-Pray you, no more. Ham. 'T is well; I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.-Good_my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstracts, and brief chronicles, of the time: After your death you were better have a bad epitaph, than their ill report while you lived. Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. Ham. Odd's bodikin man, better: Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping! Use them after your own honour and dignity: The less they a Ajig, a ludicrous interlude. b Mobled, mabled, is hastily muffled up. deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. Pol. Come, sirs. [Exit PoL. with some of the Players. Ham. Follow him, friends: we 'll hear a play tomorrow. Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the murther of Gonzago? 1 Play. Ay, my lord. Ham. We'll have 't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down, and insert in 't? could you not? 1 Play. Ay, my lord. Ham. Very well.-Follow that lord; and look you mock him not. [Exit Player.] My good friends, [To Ros. and GUIL.] I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord! [Exeunt Ros. and GUI.. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you: Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his whole conceit, That from her working, all his visage warm'd; Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, 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, That I have? He would drown the stage with tears, a Free-free from offence. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, Why, I should take it for it cannot be, What an ass am I! ay, sure, this is most brave; Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, A scullion! Fye upon 't! foh! About, my brains! I have heard, Have by the very cunning of the scene For muither, though it have no tongue, will speak a John-a-dreams-a sobriquet for a heavy, lethargic fellow. May be the devil: and the devil hath power ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in the Castle. Enter KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSEN- King. And can you, by no drift of circumstance, Ros. He does confess he feels himself distracted; But from what cause he will by no means speak. Guil. 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 Queen. Did he receive you well? Ros. Most like a gentleman. Guil. 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 Pol. "T is 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 content me To hear him so inclin'd. |