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About the world have times twelve thirties been,
Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands
Unite commutual in most sacred bands.

P. Queen. So many journeys may the sun and moon
Make us again count o'er ere love be done!
But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,
So far from cheer and from your former state,
That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:
For woman's fear and love holds quantity;
In neither aught, or in extremity.

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Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know,
And as my love is sized, my fear is so.

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear,

Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

P. King. 'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly


My operant powers their functions leave to do,
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
Honored, beloved; and haply, one as kind
For husband shalt thou-

P. Queen.

O, confound the rest!

Such love must needs be treason in my breast;

In second husband let me be accurst!

None wed the second but who kill'd the first.

Ham. [Aside] Wormwood, wormwood.

P. Queen. The instances that second marriage move
Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
P. King. I do believe you think what now you speak,
But, what we do determine oft we break.

Purpose is but the slave to memory,

Of violent birth but poor validity;

Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fall unshaken when they mellow be.
Most necessary 'tis that we forget

To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt;
What to ourselves in passion we propose,
The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
The violence of either grief or joy

Their own enactures with themselves destroy;
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.

This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange

That even our loves should with our fortunes change, 190

For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,

Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love.
The great man down, you mark his favorite flies;
The poor advanced makes friends of enemies;
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;

For who not needs shall never lack a friend;
And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
Directly seasons him his enemy.



But, orderly to end where I begun,

200 Our wills and fates do so contráry run,


That our devices still are overthrown;

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own;
So think thou wilt no second husband wed,

But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.

P. Queen. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!
Sport and repose lock from me day and night!

To desperation turn my trust and hope!
An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope!
Each opposite that blanks the face of joy
Meet what I would have well and it destroy!
Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
If, once a widow, ever I be wife!

Ham. If she should break it now!

P. King. 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here a


My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile

The tedious day with sleep.

P. Queen.

And never come mischance between us twain.


Sleep rock thy brain,


Ham. Madam, how like you this play?

Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Ham. Oh, but she'll keep her word.

King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offense in't?

Ham. No, no; they do but jest, poison in jest; no offense i' the world.

King. What do you call the play?

Ham. The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna; Gonzago is the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work; but what of that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it 230 touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.


This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.
Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
Ham. I could interpret between you and your love,
if I could see the puppets dallying.

Oph. Still better, and worse.

Ham. Begin, murderer; leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come; the croaking raven doth bellow

for revenge.

Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time


Confederate season, else no creatures seeing;


Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magic and dire property,
On wholesome life usurp immediately.


[Pours the poison into the sleeper's ear

Ham. He poisons him i' the garden for his estate. His name's Gonzago; the story is extant, and writ in choice Italian; you shall see anon how the murderer 250 gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

Oph. The king rises!

Ham. What, frighted with false fire!
Queen. How fares my lord?

Pol. Give o'er the play.

King. Give me some light. — Away!
All. Lights, lights, lights!

[Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO

Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
The hart ungallèd play ;

For some must watch, while some must sleep;
So runs the world away.

Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers,
rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me,
Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get
ship in a cry of players, sir?

if the

with two

me a fellow

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