The Tragicall Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke Part 5

_Duke_ I doe beleeue you sweete, what now you speake, But what we doe determine oft we breake, For our demises stil are ouerthrowne, Our thoughts are ours, their end's none of our owne: So thinke you will no second husband wed, But die thy thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead.

_Dutchesse_ Both here and there pursue me lasting strife, If once a widdow, euer I be wife.

_Ham._ If she should breake now.

_Duke_ T'is deepely sworne, sweete leaue me here a while, My spirites growe dull, and faine I would beguile the tedi- ous time with sleepe.

_Dutchesse_ Sleepe rocke thy braine, And neuer come mischance betweene vs twaine. _exit Lady_ _Ham._ Madam, how do you like this play?

_Queene_ The Lady protests too much.

_Ham._ O but shee'le keepe her word.

_King_ Haue you heard the argument, is there no offence in it?

_Ham._ No offence in the world, poyson in iest, poison in [F4]

_King_ What do you call the name of the play? (iest.

_Ham._ Mouse-trap: mary how trapically: this play is The image of a murder done in _guyana_, _Albertus_ Was the Dukes name, his wife _Baptista_, Father, it is a knauish peece a worke: but what A that, it toucheth not vs, you and I that haue free Soules, let the galld iade wince, this is one _Lucia.n.u.s_ nephew to the King.

_Ofel._ Ya're as good as a _Chorus_ my lord.

_Ham._ I could interpret the loue you beare, if I sawe the p.o.o.pies dallying.

_Ofel._ Y'are very pleasant my lord.

_Ham._ Who I, your onlie jig-maker, why what shoulde a man do but be merry? for looke how cheerefully my mother lookes, my father died within these two houres.

_Ofel._ Nay, t'is twice two months, my Lord.

_Ham._ Two months, nay then let the diuell weare blacke, For i'le haue a sute of Sables: Iesus, two months dead, And not forgotten yet? nay then there's some Likelyhood, a gentlemans death may outliue memorie, But by my faith hee must build churches then, Or els hee must follow the olde Epit.i.the, With hoh, with ho, the hobi-horse is forgot.

_Ofel._ Your iests are keene my Lord.

_Ham._ It would cost you a groning to take them off.

_Ofel._ Still better and worse.

_Ham._ So you must take your husband, begin. Murdred Begin, a poxe, leaue thy d.a.m.nable faces and begin, Come, the croking rauen doth bellow for reuenge.

_Murd._ Thoughts blacke, hands apt, drugs fit, and time Confederate season, else no creature seeing: (agreeing.

Thou mixture rancke, of midnight weedes collected, With _Hecates_ bane thrise blasted, thrise infected, Thy naturall magicke, and dire propertie, One wholesome life vsurps immediately. _exit._ _Ham._ He poysons him for his estate. [F4v]

_King_ Lights, I will to bed.

_Cor._ The king rises, lights hoe.

_Exeunt King and Lordes._ _Ham._ What, frighted with false fires?

Then let the stricken deere goe weepe, The Hart vngalled play, For some must laugh, while some must weepe, Thus runnes the world away.

_Hor._ The king is mooued my lord.

_Hor._ I _Horatio_, i'le take the Ghosts word For more then all the coyne in _Denmarke_.

_Enter Rossencraft and Gilderstone._

_Ross._ Now my lord, how i'st with you?

_Ham._ And if the king like not the tragedy, Why then belike he likes it not perdy.

_Ross._ We are very glad to see your grace so pleasant, My good lord, let vs againe intreate (ture To know of you the ground and cause of your distempera- _Gil._ My lord, your mother craues to speake with you.

_Ham._ We shall obey, were she ten times our mother.

_Ross._ But my good Lord, shall I intreate thus much?

_Ham._ I pray will you play vpon this pipe?

_Ross._ Alas my lord I cannot.

_Ham._ Pray will you.

_Gil._ I haue no skill my Lord.

_Ham._ Why looke, it is a thing of nothing, T'is but stopping of these holes, And with a little breath from your lips, It will giue most delicate musick.

_Gil._ But this cannot wee do my Lord.

_Ham._ Pray now, pray hartily, I beseech you.

_Ros._ My lord wee cannot. (me?

_Ham._ Why how vnworthy a thing would you make of You would seeme to know my stops, you would play vpon [G1]

You would search the very inward part of my hart, mee, And diue into the secreet of my soule.

Zownds do you thinke I am easier to be pla'yd On, then a pipe? call mee what Instrument You will, though you can frett mee, yet you can not Play vpon mee, besides, to be demanded by a spunge.

_Ros._ How a spunge my Lord?

_Ham._ I sir, a spunge, that sokes vp the kings Countenance, fauours, and rewardes, that makes His liberalitie your store house: but such as you, Do the king, in the end, best seruise; For hee doth keep you as an Ape doth nuttes, In the corner of his Iaw, first mouthes you, Then swallowes you: so when hee hath need Of you, t'is but squeesing of you, And spunge, you shall be dry againe, you shall.

_Ros._ Wel my Lord wee'le take our leaue.

_Ham_ Farewell, farewell, G.o.d blesse you.

_Exit Rossencraft and Gilderstone._

_Enter Corambis_ _Cor._ My lord, the Queene would speake with you.

_Ham._ Do you see yonder clowd in the shape of a camell?

_Cor._ T'is like a camell in deed.

_Ham._ Now me thinkes it's like a weasel.

_Cor._ T'is back't like a weasell.

_Ham._ Or like a whale.

_Cor._ Very like a whale. _exit Coram._ _Ham._ Why then tell my mother i'le come by and by.

Good night Horatio.

_Hor._ Good night vnto your Lords.h.i.+p. _exit Horatio._ _Ham._ My mother she hath sent to speake with me: O G.o.d, let ne're the heart of _Nero_ enter This soft bosome.

Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall.

I will speake daggers, those sharpe wordes being spent, [G1v]

To doe her wrong my soule shall ne're consent. _exit._ _Enter the King_.

_King_. O that this wet that falles vpon my face Would wash the crime cleere from my conscience!

When I looke vp to heauen, I see my trespa.s.se, The earth doth still crie out vpon my fact, Pay me the murder of a brother and a king, And the adulterous fault I haue committed: O these are sinnes that art vnpardonable: Why say thy sinnes were blacker then is ieat, Yet may contrition make them as white as snowe: I but still to perseuer in a sinne, It is an act gainst the vniuerfall power, Most wretched man, stoope, bend thee to thy prayer, Aske grace of heauen to keepe thee from despaire.

_hee kneeles._ _enters Hamlet_

_Ham._ I so, come forth and worke thy last, And thus hee dies: and so, am I reuenged: No, not so: he tooke my father sleeping, his sins brim full, And how his soule floode to the state of heauen Who knowes, saue the immortall powres, And shall I kill him now When he is purging of his soule?

Making his way for heauen, this is a benefit, And not reuenge: no, get thee vp agen, (drunke, When hee's at game swaring, taking his carowse, drinking Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed, Or at some act that hath no relish Of saluation in't, then trip him That his heeles may kicke at heauen, And fall as lowe as hel: my mother stayes, This phisicke but prolongs they weary dayes. _exit Ham._ _King_. My wordes fly vp, my sinnes remaine below.

No King on earth is safe, if G.o.ds his foe. _exit King._[G2]

_Enter Queene and Corambis._ _Cor._ Madame, I heare yong Hamlet comming, I'le shrowde my selfe behinde the Arras. _exit Cor._ _Queene_ Do so my Lord.

_Ham._ Mother, mother, O are you here?

How i'st with you mother?

_Queene_ How i'st with you?

_Ham,_ I'le tell you, but first weele make all safe.

_Queene_ Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.

_Ham._ Mother, you haue my father much offended.

_Queene_ How now boy?

_Ham._ How now mother! come here, sit downe, for you shall heare me speake.

_Queene_ What wilt thou doe? thou wilt not murder me: Helpe hoe.

_Cor._ Helpe for the Queene.

_Ham._ I a Rat, dead for a Duckat.

Rash intruding foole, farewell, I tooke thee for thy better.

_Queene_ Hamlet, what hast thou done?

_Ham._ Not so much harme, good mother, As to kill a king, and marry with his brother.

_Queene_ How! kill a king!

_Ham._ I a King: nay sit you downe, and ere you part, If you be made of penitrable stuffe, I'le make your eyes looke downe into your heart, And see how horride there and blacke it shews. (words?

_Queene_ Hamlet, what mean'st thou by these killing _Ham._ Why this I meane, see here, behold this picture, It is the portraiture, of your deceased husband, See here a face, to outface _Mars_ himselfe, An eye, at which his foes did tremble at, A front wherin all vertues are set downe For to adorne a king, and guild his crowne, Whose heart went hand in hand euen with that vow, He made to you in marriage, and he is dead. [G2v]

Murdred, d.a.m.nably murdred, this was your husband, Looke you now, here is your husband, With a face like _Vulcan_.

A looke fit for a murder and a rape, A dull dead hanging looke, and a h.e.l.l-bred eie, To affright children and amaze the world: And this same haue you left to change with this.

What Diuell thus hath cosoned you at hob-man blinde?

A! haue you eyes and can you looke on him That slew my father, and your deere husband, To liue in the incestuous pleasure of his bed?

_Queene_ O Hamlet, speake no more.

_Ham._ To leaue him that bare a Monarkes minde, For a king of clowts, of very shreads.

_Queene_ Sweete Hamlet cease.

_Ham._ Nay but still to persist and dwell in sinne, To sweate vnder the yoke of infamie, To make increase of shame, to seale d.a.m.nation.