Page:Ham-1603-22275x-hun-c01-027.jpg

 The Tragedy of Hamlet He made to you in marriage, and he is dead.

Murdred, damnably 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 hell‐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 damnation.

Queene Hamlet, no more.

Ham. Why appetite with you is in the waine,

Your blood runnes backeward now from whence it came,

Who'le chide hote blood within a Virgins heart,

When lust shall dwell within a matrons breast?

Queene Hamlet, thou cleaues my heart in twaine.

Ham. O throw away the worser part of it, and keepe the better.

Enter the ghost in his night gowne. Saue me, saue me, you gratious

Powers aboue, and houer ouer mee,

With your celestiall wings.

Doe you not come your tardy sonne to chide,

That I thus long haue let reuenge slippe by?

O do not glare with lookes so pittifull!

Lest that my heart of stone yeelde to compassion,

And

Prince of Denmarke. And euery part that should assist reu_nge,

Forgoe their proper powers, and fall to pitty.

Ghost Hamlet, I once againe appeare to thee,

To put thee in remembrance of my death:

Doe not neglect, nor long time put it off.

But I perceiue by thy distracted lookes,

Thy mother's fearefull, and she stands amazde:

Speake to her Hamlet, for her sex is weake,

Comfort thy mother, Hamlet, thinke on me.

Ham. How i'st with you Lady?

Queene Nay, how i'st with you

That thus you bend your eyes on vacancie,

And holde discourse with nothing but with ayre?

Ham. Why doe you nothing heare?

Queene Not I.

Ham. Nor doe you nothing see?

Queene No neither.

Ham. No, why see the king my father, my father, in the (habite

As he liued, looke you how pale he lookes,

See how he steales away out of the Portall,

Looke, there he goes. exit ghost.

Queene Alas, it is the weakenesse of thy braine,

Which makes thy tongue to blazon thy hearts griefe:

But as I haue a soule, I sweare by heauen,

I neuer knew of this most horride murder:

But Hamlet, this is onely fantasie,

And for my loue forget these idle fits.

Ham. Idle, no mother, my pulse doth beate like yours,

It is not madnesse that possesseth Hamlet.

O mother, if euer you did my deare father loue,

Forbeare the adulterous bed to night,

And win your selfe by little as you may,

In time it may be you wil lothe him quite:

And mother, but assist mee in reuenge,

And in his death your infamy shall die.

Queene Hamlet, I vow by that maiesty,50

G3 Tha_