Part 15 (1/2)

Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into amazement and admiration.

Ham.

O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother!--But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration?

Ros.

She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed.

Ham.

We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any further trade with us?

Ros.

My lord, you once did love me.

Ham.

And so I do still, by these pickers and stealers.

Ros.

Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty if you deny your griefs to your friend.

Ham.

Sir, I lack advancement.

Ros.

How can that be, when you have the voice of the king himself for your succession in Denmark?

Ham.

Ay, sir, but 'While the gra.s.s grows'--the proverb is something musty.

[Re-enter the Players, with recorders.]

O, the recorders:--let me see one.--To withdraw with you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?

Guil.

O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.

Ham.

I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?

Guil.

My lord, I cannot.

Ham.

I pray you.

Guil.

Believe me, I cannot.

Ham.

I do beseech you.

Guil.

I know, no touch of it, my lord.

Ham.

'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your finger and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.

Guil.

But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony; I have not the skill.

Ham.

Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compa.s.s; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.

[Enter Polonius.]

G.o.d bless you, sir!

Pol.

My lord, the queen would speak with you, and presently.

Ham.

Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?

Pol.

By the ma.s.s, and 'tis like a camel indeed.