Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
What is't, but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.

Queen.

More matter, with less art.

Pol. Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true, 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.

Mad let us grant him, then; and now remains,
That we find out the cause of this effect;
Or, rather say, the cause of this defect;
For this effect, defective, comes by cause.
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.
Perpend.

I have a daughter; have, while she is mine;
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,

Hath given me this. Now gather and surmise.

To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautıfied Ophelia,

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; beautified is a vile phrase; but you shall hear. Thus :

In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.1

Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?

Pol. Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.—

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt, that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love.

[Reads.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet.

1 Formerly the word these was usually added at the end of the superscription of letters. The folio reads:"These in her excellent white bosom these."

This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me ;
And more above, hath his solicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place,

All given to mine ear.

King.

Received his love?

Pol.

But how hath she

What do you think of me?

King. As of a man faithful and honorable.

Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you

think,

When I had seen this hot love on the wing,

(As I perceived it, I must tell you that,

Before my daughter told me,) what might you,
Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
If I had played the desk or table-book ;

Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb;'
Or looked upon this love with idle sight;

What might you think? No, I went round to work,
And my young mistress thus did I bespeak :-
Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy star;3

advice;

This must not be; and then I precepts gave her,
That she should lock herself from his resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my
And he, repulsed, (a short tale to make,)
Fell into a sadness; then into a fast;
Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,

And all we mourn for.

King.

Do you think 'tis this?

Queen. It may be, very likely.

Pol. Hath there been such a time, (I'd fain know

that,)

1 That is, "If I had acted the part of depositary of their secret loves, or given my heart a hint to be mute about their passion." The quartos read-given my heart a working," and the modern editors follow this reading.

2 Plainly, roundly, without reserve.

3 This was changed to sphere in the 4to. 1632, and that reading is followed by the modern editions. "Out of thy star,” is placed abɔve thee by destiny.

sent for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to color. I know the good king and queen have sent for you. Ros. To what end, my lord?

Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our everpreserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no.

Ros. What say you? [TO GUILDENSTERN. Ham. Nay, then I have an eye of you;1 [Aside;]—if you love me, hold not off.

Guil. My lord, we were sent for.

Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no feather. I have of late (but wherefore, I know not) lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and, indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties in form, and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither; though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.

Ros. My lord, there is no such stuff in my thoughts. Ham. Why did you laugh, then, when I said, Man delights not me?

Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten entertainment the players shall receive

1 To have an eye of any one is to have an inkling of his purpose. The first quarto has:-" Nay, then I see how the wind sets."

2 See Twelfth Night, Act i. Sc. 5.

Hum. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god, kissing carrion,'-Have you a daughter Pol. I have, my lord.

Ham. Let her not walk i' the sun. Conception is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive, friend, look to't.

Pol. How say you by that? [Aside.] Still harping on my daughter:-yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger. He is far gone, far gone; and, truly, in my youth I suffered much extremity for love; very near this. I'll speak to him again.-What do you read, my lord?

Ham. Words, words, words.

Pol. What is the matter, my lord?

Ham. Between who?

Pol. I mean the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have gray beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams. All of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, should be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. [Aside.] Will you walk out of the air, my lord? Ham. Into my grave?

Pol. Indeed, that is out o' the air.-How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him

1 The old copies read-" being a good kissing carrion." The emen dation is Warburton's. The same kind of expression occurs in Cymbe line:"Common-kissing Titan." And Malone has adduced the following passage from the play of King Edward III., 1596, which Shakspeare had certainly seen:

"The freshest summer's day doth soonest taint
The loathed carrion that it seems to kiss."

H

that cry out on the top of the question,' and are most tyrannically clapped for't. These are now the fashion ; and so berattle the common stages, (so they call them,) that many, wearing rapiers, are afraid of goose quills, and dare scarce come thither.

Ham. What, are they children? who maintains them? how are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality, no longer than they can sing? will they not say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common players, (as it is most like, if their means are no better,) their writers do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their own succession?

Ros. 'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and the nation holds it no sin, to tarre 5 them on to controversy. There was, for a while, no money bid for argument, unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.

Ham. Is it possible?

Guil. O, there has been much throwing about of brains.

Ham. Do the boys carry it away?

Ros. Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too."

Ham. It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of Denmark, and those that would make mouths' at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece, for his picture in little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out. [Flourish of trumpets within. Guil. There are the players.

1 Question is speech, conversation. The meaning may therefore be, they cry out on the top of their voice.

2 i. e. paid.

3 i. e. profession. Mr. Gifford has remarked, that "this word seems more peculiarly appropriated to the profession of a player by our old

writers."

4 "No longer than they can sing," i. e. no longer than they keep the voices of boys, and sing in the choir.

5 i. e. set them on; a phrase borrowed from the setting on a dog.

6 i. e. carry all the world before them: there is, perhaps, an allusion to the Globe theatre, the sign of which is said to have been Hercules carrying the globe.

First copy," mops and moes;" folio, "mowes."