But if the gods themselves did see her then, When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport 510 In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, The instant burst of clamor that she made, 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. 530 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. Pol. Come, sirs. Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play tomorrow. [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? 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! A broken voice, and his whole function suiting 540 550 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, 560 And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i̇' the As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? 'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be I should have fatted all the region kites O, vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! this is most brave; A scullion! Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard Have by the very cunning of the scene For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak my father I'll have grounds The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. [Exit 580 590 600 10 ACT III SCENE I 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 Queen. 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 |