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But if the gods themselves did see her then,
Pol. Look, whether he has not turned his color and has tears in's eyes. - Pray you, no more.
Ham. 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for 520 they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time: after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you lived.
Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
Ham. Odd's bodikins, man, much better! Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity: the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
530 Pol. Come, sirs.
Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to[Exit PoL., with some of the Players]
[Aside to 1 Player] Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play The Murder of Gonzago?
1 Play. Ay, my lord.
Ham. [Aside] We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert in't, could you not?
1 Play. Ay, my lord.
Ham. [Aside] Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him not. [Exit Player] My good friends [to Ros. and GUIL.], I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore.
Ros. Good my lord!
Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you! —
[Exeunt ROSEN. and GUIL. Now I am alone.
Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears,
Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this?
'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be
Why, what an ass am I! this is most brave;
Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul that presently
They have proclaimed their malefactions; ⚫
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
A Room in the Castle
Enter KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, RosenCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN
King. And can you, by no drift of circumstance, Get from him why he puts on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
Ros. He does confess he feels himself distracted, But from what cause he will by no means speak.
Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded; But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
When we would bring him on to some confession
Did he receive you well?
Guil. But with much forcing of his disposition.
Queen. Did you assay him to any pastime?
Ros. Madam, it so fell out that certain players