"limited.

Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus, "too light. For the law of wit, and the liberty, thefe 66 are the only men.

Ham. Oh Jephtha, judge of Ifrael, what a treasure hadft thou!

Pol. What a treasure had he, my Lord!

Ham. Why, one fair daughter, and no more, The which he loved passing well.

Pol. Still on my daughter.

Ham. Am I not i' th' right, old Jephtha?

Pel. If you call me Jephtha, my Lord, I have a daughter that I love paffing well.

Ham. Nay, that follows not.

Pol. What follows then, my Lord?
Ham. Why, as by lot, God wot

and then you

know, it came to pass, as most like it was; the first row of the rubric * will fhew you more.

my abridgements come.

For look where

Enter four or five Players.

Y'are welcome, mafters, welcome all. I am glad to fee thee well; welcome, good friends. Oh! old friend! thy face is valance'd fince I faw thee laft: com'st thou to beard me in Denmark? What! my young lady and miftrefs? b'erlady, your ladyfhip is nearer heaven than when I faw you laft, by the altitude of a chioppine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not crack'd within the ring.- -Masters, you are all welcome; we'll e'en to't like friendly faulconers, fly at any thing we fee; we'll have a fpeech ftraight. Come, give us a taste of your quality; come, a paffionate speech.

Play. What fpeech, my good Lord ?

Ham. I heard thee fpeak me a fpeech once; but it was never acted or if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleas'd not the million, 'twas Caviar to the general; but it was (as I received it, and others, whofe judgment in fuch matters cried in the top of mine) an excellent play; well digefted in the fcenes, fet

*It is pens charfons in the firft folio edition. The old ballads furg on bridges, and from thence called pons chaifons. Hamlet is here repeating ends of old fongs. The rubric is equivalent; the titles of old ballads being written in red letters,

down

down with as much modefty * as cunning. I remember
one faid, there was no falt in the lines, to inake the mat-
ter favoury; nor no matter in the phrase, that might
indite the author of affectation; but call'd it an ho-
nest method. One speech in it I chiefly lov'd; 'twas
Æneas's tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially,
where he speaks of Priam's flaughter. If it live in your
memory, begin at this line, let me fee, let me fee
The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beaft. It
is not fo; it begins with Pyrrhus.

The rugged Pyrrhus, he whofe fable arms,
Black as his purpose, did the night refemble
When he lay couched in the ominous horfe;
Hath now his dread and black complexion finear'd
With heraldry more difmal; head to foot,
Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd

With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, fons,
Bak'd and impafted with the parching fires,
That lend a tyrannons and damned light

To murthers vile.

Roafted in wrath and fire,

And thus o'er-fized with goagulate gore,

With eyes like carbuncles, the hellith Pyrrhus-
Old grandfire Priam feeks.

Pol. 'Fore God, my Lord, well fpoken, with good accent, and good difcretion.

1 Play. Anon he finds him,

Striking, too fhort, at Greeks. His antique fword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command; unequal match'd,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage flrikes wide;
But with the whif and wind of his fell fword
Th' unnerved father falls. "Then fenfelefs Ilium,
"Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top

Stoops to his bafe; and with a hideous crafh
Takes prifoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo, his fword,
Which was declining on the milky head
Of rev'rend Priam, feem'd i' th' air to ftick;
So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus ftood;
And, like a neutral to his will and matter,

madefty, for fimplicity.

indite, for envia.
boneft, for chafe.

L 3

Did

Did nothing.

"But as we often fee, against some storm,
"A filence in the heav'ns, the rack stand still,
"The bold winds fpeechlefs, and the orb below
"As hufh as death; anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region: so after Pyrrhus' pause,
A roufed vengeance fets him new a-work;
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
On Mars his armour, forge'd for proof eterne,
With lefs remorfe than Pyrrhus' bleeding fword
Now falls on Priam.

Cut, out, thou ftrumpet Fortune! all you gods,
In general fynod take away her power.

Break all the fpokes 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 fhall to th' barber's with your beard. Pr'ythee, fay on; he's for a jigg, or a tale of bawdry, or he fleeps. Say on, come to Hecuba.

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

Ham. The mobled Queen?

Pol. That's good; mobled Queen is good.

1 Play. Run bare-foot up and down, threat'ning the With biffon rheum; a clont upon that head, [flames 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 feen, with tongue in venom fteep'd, 'Gainft Fortune's state would treafon have pronounce'd. But if the gods themselves did fee her then, When the faw Pyrrhus make malicious fport In mincing with his fword her husband's limbs ; The inftant 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 paffion in the gods.

Pol. Look, whe'r 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

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 ufe them according to their defert.

Ham. God's bodikins, man, much better. Use every man after his defert, and who fhall 'fcape whipping? ufe them after your own honour and dignity. The lefs they deferve, the more merit is in

ty. Take them in.

Pal Come, Sirs.

your boun

[Exit Polonius.

Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play tomorrow. Doft thou hear me, old friend, can you play the murther of Gonzago?

Play. Ay, my Lord.

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, I'll leave you till night, you are welcome to Elfinoor.

Rof. Good my Lord.

SCENE VIII.

[Exeunt.

Manet Hamlet.

Ham. Ay, fo, God b'w' ye: now I am alone. Oh, what a rogue and peasant flave am I? "Is it not monftrous, that this player here, "But in a fiction, in a dream of paffion, "Could force his foul fo to his own conceit, "That, from her working, all his vifage wan'd; Tears in his eyes diflraction in his afpect,

"A broken voice, and his whole function fuiting, "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 paffion, "That I have? He would drown the ftage with tears, "And cleave the gen'ral ear with horrid fpeech; "Make mad the guilty, and appal the free; "Confound the ign'rant, and amaze, indeed,

"The

"The very faculty of eyes and ears.

A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,

Yet I,

Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant * of my cause,
And can fay nothing,- no, not for a King,
Upon whofe property and most dear life

A damn'd defeat † was made. Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain, breaks my pate across,
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face;
Tweaks me by th' nofe, gives me the lye i' th' throat,
As deep as to the lungs who does me this?
Ha! why, I fhould take it for it cannot be,
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppreffion bitter; or ere this

I fhould have fatted all the region-kites
With this flave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain !

Oh, vengeance!

Why, what an afs am I? this is most brave,
That I, the fon of a dear father murthered,
Prompted to my revenge by heav'n and hell,
Muft, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a-curfing like a very drab

A fcullion,--fy upon't! foh!--about, my brain !-
I've heard, that guilty creatures, at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been ftruck fo to the foul, that presently

They have proclaim'd their malefactions.

For murther, though it have no tongue, will fpeak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have thefe players
Play fomething like the murther of my father,
Before mine uncle. I'll obferve his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick; if he but blench,
I know my courfe. The fpirit that I have feen,
May be the devil; and the devil hath power
T' affume a pleafing thape: yea, and perhaps
Out of my weaknefs and my melancholy,
(As he is very potent with fuch fpirits),
Abufes 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.

unpregnant, for having no due fenfe of.

+ defeat, for deftruction.

relative, for convictive.

ACT