Enter Polonius, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne.
How now my Lord, Will the King heare this peece of Worke? Pol. And the Queene too, and that presently
Ham. Bid the Players make hast.
Exit Polonius.
Will you two helpe to hasten them? Both. We will my Lord.
Exeunt.
Enter Horatio.
Ham. What hoa, Horatio? Hora. Heere sweet Lord, at your Seruice
Ham. Horatio, thou art eene as iust a man As ere my Conuersation coap'd withall
Hora. O my deere Lord
Ham. Nay, do not thinke I flatter: For what aduancement may I hope from thee, That no Reuennew hast, but thy good spirits To feed & cloath thee. Why shold the poor be flatter'd? No, let the Candied tongue, like absurd pompe, And crooke the pregnant Hindges of the knee, Where thrift may follow faining? Dost thou heare, Since my deere Soule was Mistris of my choyse, And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for her selfe. For thou hast bene As one in suffering all, that suffers nothing. A man that Fortunes buffets, and Rewards Hath 'tane with equall Thankes. And blest are those, Whose Blood and Iudgement are so well co-mingled, That they are not a Pipe for Fortunes finger. To sound what stop she please. Giue me that man, That is not Passions Slaue, and I will weare him In my hearts Core. I, in my Heart of heart, As I do thee. Something too much of this. There is a Play to night to before the King. One Scoene of it comes neere the Circumstance Which I haue told thee, of my Fathers death. I prythee, when thou see'st that Acte a-foot, Euen with the verie Comment of my Soule Obserue mine Vnkle: If his occulted guilt, Do not it selfe vnkennell in one speech, It is a damned Ghost that we haue seene: And my Imaginations are as foule As Vulcans Stythe. Giue him needfull note, For I mine eyes will riuet to his Face: And after we will both our iudgements ioyne, To censure of his seeming
Hora. Well my Lord. If he steale ought the whil'st this Play is Playing, And scape detecting, I will pay the Theft. Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrance, Guildensterne, and other Lords attendant with his Guard carrying Torches. Danish March. Sound a Flourish.
Ham. They are comming to the Play: I must be idle. Get you a place
King. How fares our Cosin Hamlet? Ham. Excellent Ifaith, of the Camelions dish: I eate the Ayre promise-cramm'd, you cannot feed Capons so
King. I haue nothing with this answer Hamlet, these words are not mine
Ham. No, nor mine. Now my Lord, you plaid once i'th' Vniuersity, you say? Polon. That I did my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor
Ham. And what did you enact? Pol. I did enact Iulius Caesar, I was kill'd i'th' Capitol: Brutus kill'd me
Ham. It was a bruite part of him, to kill so Capitall a Calfe there. Be the Players ready? Rosin. I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience
Qu. Come hither my good Hamlet, sit by me
Ha. No good Mother, here's Mettle more attractiue
Pol. Oh ho, do you marke that? Ham. Ladie, shall I lye in your Lap? Ophe. No my Lord
Ham. I meane, my Head vpon your Lap? Ophe. I my Lord
Ham. Do you thinke I meant Country matters? Ophe. I thinke nothing, my Lord
Ham. That's a faire thought to ly betweene Maids legs Ophe. What is my Lord? Ham. Nothing
Ophe. You are merrie, my Lord? Ham. Who I? Ophe. I my Lord
Ham. Oh God, your onely Iigge-maker: what should a man do, but be merrie. For looke you how cheerefully my Mother lookes, and my Father dyed within's two Houres