Part 4 (1/2)

_Cor._ A, stil harping a my daughter! well my Lord, If you call me _Iepha_, I hane a daughter that I loue pa.s.sing well.

_Ham._ Nay that followes not.

_Cor._ What followes then my Lord?

_Ham._ Why by lot, or G.o.d wot, or as it came to pa.s.se, And so it was, the first verse of the G.o.dly Ballet Wil tel you all: for look you where my abridgement comes: Welcome maisters, welcome all, _Enter players._ What my olde friend, thy face is vallanced Since I saw thee last, com'st thou to beard me in _Denmarke_?

My yong lady and mistris, burlady but your (you were: Ladis.h.i.+p is growne by the alt.i.tude of a chopine higher than Pray G.o.d sir your voyce, like a peece of vncurrant Golde, be not crack't in the ring: come on maisters, Weele euen too't, like French Falconers, Flie at any thing we see, come, a taste of your Quallitie, a speech, a pa.s.sionate speech.

_Players_ What speech my good lord?

_Ham._ I heard thee speake a speech once, But it was neuer acted: or if it were, Neuer aboue twice, for as I remember, It pleased not the vulgar, it was cauiary To the million: but to me And others, that receiued it in the like kinde, Cried in the toppe of their iudgements, an excellent play, Set downe with as great modestie as cunning: One said there was no sallets in the lines to make the sauory, But called it an honest methode, as wholesome as sweete. [E4]

Come, a speech in it I chiefly remember Was _aeneas_ tale to _Dido_, And then especially where he talkes of Princes slaughter, If it liue in thy memory beginne at this line, Let me see.

The rugged _Pyrrus_, like th'arganian beast: No t'is not so, it begins with _Pirrus_: O I haue it.

The rugged _Pirrus_, he whose sable armes, Blacke as his purpose did the night resemble, When he lay couched in the ominous horse, Hath now his blacke and grimme complexion smeered With Heraldry more dismall, head to foote, Now is he totall guise, horridely tricked With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sonnes, Back't and imparched in calagulate gore, Rifted in earth and fire, olde grandsire _Pryam_ seekes: So goe on. (accent.

_Cor._ Afore G.o.d, my Lord, well spoke, and with good _Play._ Anone he finds him striking too short at Greeks, His antike sword rebellious to this Arme, Lies where it falles, vnable to resist.

_Pyrrus_ at _Pryam_ driues, but all in rage, Strikes wide, but with the whiffe and winde Of his fell sword, th' unnerued father falles.

_Cor._ Enough my friend, t'is too long.

_Ham._ It shall to the Barbers with your beard: A pox, hee's for a Iigge, or a tale of bawdry, Or else he sleepes, come on to _Hecuba_, come.

_Play._ But who O who had seene the mobled Queene?

_Cor._ Mobled Queene is good, faith very good.

_Play._ All in the alarum and feare of death rose vp, And o're her weake and all ore-teeming loynes, a blancket And a kercher on that head, where late the diademe stoode, Who this had seene with tongue inuenom'd speech, Would treason haue p.r.o.nounced, [E4v]

For if the G.o.ds themselues had seene her then, When she saw _Pirrus_ with malitious strokes, Mincing her husbandes limbs, It would haue made milch the burning eyes of heauen, And pa.s.sion in the G.o.ds.

_Cor._ Looke my lord if he hath not changde his colour, And hath teares in his eyes: no more good heart, no more.

_Ham._ T'is well, t'is very well, I pray my lord, Will you see the Players well bestowed, I tell you they are the Chronicles And briefe abstracts of the time, After your death I can tell you, You were better haue a bad Epiteeth, Then their ill report while you liue.

_Cor._ My lord, I will vse them according to their deserts.

_Ham._ O farre better man, vse euery man after his deserts, Then who should scape whipping?

Vse them after your owne honor and dignitie, The lesse they deserue, the greater credit's yours.

_Cor._ Welcome my good fellowes. _exit._ _Ham._ Come hither maisters, can you not play the mur- der of _Gonsago_?

_players_ Yes my Lord.

_Ham._ And could'st not thou for a neede study me Some dozen or sixteene lines, Which I would set downe and insert?

_players_ Yes very easily my good Lord.

_Ham._ T'is well, I thanke you: follow that lord: And doe you heare sirs? take heede you mocke him not.

Gentlemen, for your kindnes I thanke you, And for a time I would desire you leaue me.

_Gil._ Our loue and duetie is at your commaund.

_Exeunt all but Hamlet._ _Ham._ Why what a dunghill idiote slaue am I?

Why these Players here draw water from eyes: For Hecuba, why what is Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba? [F1]

What would he do and if he had my losse?

His father murdred, and a Crowne bereft him, He would turne all his teares to droppes of blood, Amaze the standers by with his laments, Strike more then wonder in the iudiciall eares, Confound the ignorant, and make mute the wise, Indeede his pa.s.sion would be generall.

Yet I like to an a.s.se and Iohn a Dreames, Hauing my father murdred by a villaine, Stand still, and let it pa.s.se, why sure I am a coward: Who pluckes me by the beard, or twites my nose, Giue's me the lie i'th throate downe to the lungs, Sure I should take it, or else I haue no gall, Or by this I should a fatted all the region kites With this slaues offell, this d.a.m.ned villaine, Treachcrous, bawdy, murderous villaine: Why this is braue, that I the sonne of my deare father, Should like a scalion, like a very drabbe Thus raile in wordes. About my braine, I haue heard that guilty creatures sitting at a play, Hath, by the very cunning of the scene, confest a murder Committed long before.

This spirit that I haue seene may be the Diuell, And out of my weakenesse and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such men, Doth seeke to d.a.m.ne me, I will haue sounder proofes, The play's the thing, Wherein I'le catch the conscience of the King. _exit._

_Enter the King, Queene, and Lordes._

_King_ Lordes, can you by no meanes finde The cause of our sonne Hamlets lunacie?

You being so neere in loue, euen from his youth, Me thinkes should gaine more than a stranger should.

_Gil._ My lord, we haue done all the best we could, [F1v]

To wring from him the cause of all his griefe, But still he puts vs off, and by no meanes Would make an answere to that we exposde.

_Ross._ Yet was he something more inclin'd to mirth Before we left him, and I take it, He hath giuen order for a play to night, At which he craues your highnesse company.

_King_ With all our heart, it likes vs very well: Gentlemen, seeke still to increase his mirth, Spare for no cost, our coffers shall be open, And we vnto your selues will still be thankefull.

_Both_ In all wee can, be sure you shall commaund.

_Queene_ Thankes gentlemen, and what the Queene of May pleasure you, be sure you shall not want. (_Denmarke_ _Gil._ Weele once againe vnto the n.o.ble Prince.

_King_ Thanks to you both; Gertred you'l see this play.

_Queene_ My lord I will, and it ioyes me at the soule He is incln'd to any kinde of mirth.

_Cor._ Madame, I pray be ruled by me: And my good Soueraigne, giue me leaue to speake, We cannot yet finde out the very ground Of his distemperance, therefore I holde it meete, if so it please you, Else they shall not meete, and thus it is.

_King_ What i'st _Corambis_? (done, _Cor._ Mary my good lord this, soone when the sports are Madam, send you in haste to speake with him, And I my selfe will stand behind the Arras, There question you the cause of all his griefe, And then in loue and nature vnto you, hee'le tell you all: My Lord, how thinke you on't?

_King_ It likes vs well, Gerterd, what say you?