Page:Hamlet (1917) Yale.djvu/106

94

Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?

Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,

And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?

You cannot call it love, for at your age

The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,

And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment

Would step from this to this? [Sense, sure, you have,

Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense

Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,

Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd

But it reserv'd some quantity of choice,

To serve in such a difference.] What devil was 't

That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?

[Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,

Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,

Or but a sickly part of one true sense

Could not so mope.]

O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,

If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,

To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,

And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame

When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,

Since frost itself as actively doth burn,

And reason panders will.

Queen. O Hamlet! speak no more;

Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;

And there I see such black and grained spots

As will not leave their tinct.

 67 batten: grow fat on

moor: a barren upland; cf. n.

69 hey-day: state of excitement, youthful high spirits

71 Sense: reasoning power

72 motion: emotion (?)

73 apoplex'd: atrophied

74 thrall'd: enslaved

75 quantity of choice: power to choose

76 difference: disagreement

77 cozen'd: cheated

hoodman-blind: blind man's buff

79 sans: without

81 mope: act aimlessly

83 mutine: rise in mutiny

86 charge: command

88 panders: ministers to the gratifications of

90 grained: ingrained

91 tinct: color

