And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty and appal the free, A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward ? As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? 'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be, To make oppression bitter; or, ere this, I should have fatted all the region kites 540 Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain ! O, vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! this is most brave; That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, A scullion! Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, seen May be the devil: and the devil hath power Out of my weakness, and my melancholy, [Exit. 550 560 Το ACT III. SCENE I.-A Room in the Castle. Enter KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSEN- King. ND can you, by no drift of circum quiet stance, [confusion Get from him why he puts on this With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? tracted; sounded; But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, [sion Queen. Did he receive you well? Ros. Most like a gentleman. Guil. But with much forcing of his dispo sition. Ros. Most free of question; but of our demands Niggard in his reply. Queen. Did you assay him to any pastime? Pol. 'Tis most true: And he beseech'd me to entreat your majes ties To hear and see the matter. King. With all my heart; and it doth much content me, To hear him so inclined. Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, King. [Exeunt ROSEN. and GUILD. For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither; Her father and myself (lawful espials) Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, un seen, We may of their encounter frankly judge; If 't be the affliction of his love or no That thus he suffers for. I shall obey you: Queen. 20 30 Of Hamlet's wildness; so shall I hope your virtues Will bring him to his wonted way again, Oph. Madam, I wish it may. [Exit Queen. Pol. Ophelia, walk you here.—Gracious, so please you, [Read on this book, We will bestow ourselves.-[ To OPHELIA.] That show of such an exercise may color Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in [visage 'Tis too much proved,—that, with devotion's And pious action we do sugar o'er The devil himself. this, King. [aside.] O, 'tis too true! conscience! How smart a lash that speech doth give my Pol. I hear him coming; let's withdraw, Enter HAMLET. Ham. To be, or not to be,-that is the Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 40 50 |