Enter Sailors.

1 Sail. God bless you, sir. Hor. Let him bless thee too.

1 Sail. He shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for you, sir; it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

Hor. [Reads.] Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king; they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase: finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valor; and in the grapple, I boarded them: on the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy; but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king have the letters I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldst fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England; of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.

Hamlet.

He that thou knowest thine, Come, I will give you way for these your letters; And do't the speedier, that you may direct me To him from whom you brought them. [Exeunt. SCENE VII.-Another Room in the same. Enter KING and LAERTES.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,

And you must put me in your heart for friend;
Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he, which hath your noble father slain,
Pursued my life.

Laer.
It well appears:-but tell me,
Why you proceeded not against these feats,
So crimeful and so capital in nature,
As by your safety.greatness, wisdom, all things else,
You mainly were stirr'd up.
King.
O, for two special reasons:
Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,
But yet to me they are strong. The queen his
mother

Lives almost by his looks; and for myself,
(My virtue, or my plague, be it either which,)
She is so conjunctive to my life and soul,
That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
I could not but by her. The other motive,
Why to a public count I might not go,
Is, the great love the general gender bear him;
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
Work like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,
Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
Would have reverted to my bow again,
And not where I had aim'd them.

Laer. And so have I a noble father lost;
A sister driven into desperate terms;
Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
Stood challenger on mount of all the age

For her perfections:-But my revenge will come. King. Break not your sleeps for that: you must not think,

That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,
That we can let our beard be shook with danger,
And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:
I lov'd your father, and we love ourself;
And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine,-
How now? what news?

Mess.

Enter a Messenger.

Letters, my lord, from Hamlet: This to your majesty; this to the queen. King. From Hamlet! who brought them? Mess. Sailors, my lord, they say: I saw them not; They were given me by Claudio, he receiv'd them Of him that brought them. King. Laertes, you hall hear them:Leave us. [Exit Messenger. [Reads.] High and mighty, you shall know, I am set naked on your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes; when I shall first, asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden and more strange return. Hamlet. Common people. • Chains.

King.

If it be so, Laertes,-
As how should it be so? how otherwise?-
Will you be rul'd by me?
Laer.

So you will not o'er-rule me to a peace.
Ay, my lord;
King. To thine own peace. If he be now re-
turn'd,-

As checking at his voyage, and that he means
No more to undertake it,-I will work him
To an exploit, now ripe in my device,
Under the which he shall not choose but fall:
And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe;
But even his mother shall uncharge the practice,
And call it accident.

Laer.
My lord, I will be rul'd:
The rather, if you could devise it so,
That I might be the organ.
King.
It falls right.
You have been talk'd of since your travel much,
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality,
Wherein, they say, you shine: your sum of parts
Did not together pluck such envy from him,
As did that one; and that, in my regard,
Of the unworthiest siege.6
Luer.
What part is that, my lord?
King. A very riband in the cap of youth,
Yet needful too; for youth no less becomes
The light and careless livery that it wears,
Than settled age his sables and his weeds,
Importing health and graveness.

since,

Two months

And hath abatements and delays as many,
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;
And then this should is like a spendthrift sigh,
That hurts by casing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer:
Hamlet comes back; What would you undertake,
To show yourself indeed your father's son
More than in words?
Laer.
To cut his throat i' the church.
King. No place, indeed, should murder sanctuar-
ize;
Revenge should have no bounds. But, good
Laertes,

Will you do this: keep close within your chamber?
Hamlet, return'd, shall know you are come home:
We'll put on those shall praise your excellence,
And set a double varnish on the fame

The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, together,

And wager o'er your heads: he, being remiss,
Most generous, and free from all contriving,
Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,
Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
A sword unbated,' and, in a pass of practice,
Requite him for your father."
Laer.

I will do't:
And, for the purpose, I'll anoint my sword.
I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal, that, but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood, no cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
That is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my point
With this contagion; that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

King. Let's further think of this; Weigh, what convenience, both of time and means, May fit us to our shape: if this should fail, And that our drift look through our bad perform

ance,

"Twere better not essay'd: therefore this project Should have a back, or second, that might hold, If this should blast in proof.2 Soft;-let me see: We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings,3

I ha't:

When on your motion you are hot and dry,

(As make your bouts more violent to that end,)
And that he calls for drink, I'll have preferr'd him
A chalice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
Our purpose may hold there. But stay, what noise?
Enter QUEEN.

How now, sweet queen?

Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow:-Your sister's drown'd, Laertes. Laer. Drown'd! O, where?

Queen. There is a willow grows ascaunt the
brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
That liberals shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call
them:

There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies, and herself,
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread
wide;

And, mermaid-like, a while they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be,
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.

Laer.

Alas! then, she is drown'd? Queen. Drown'd, drown'd. Laer. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears: But yet It is our trick; nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will: when these are gone The woman will be out.-Adieu, my lord! I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it. King.

Exit. Let's follow, Gertrude: How much I had to do to calm his rage! Now fear I, this will give it start again; Therefore, let's follow.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I-A Churchyard. Enter two Clowns, with Spades, &c.

1 Clo. Is she to be buried in Christian burial, that wilfully seeks her own salvation?

2 Clo. I tell thee, she is; therefore make her grave straight the crowner hath set on her, and finds it Christian burial.

1 Cio. How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence?

2 Clo. Why, 'tis found so.

1 Clo. It must be se offendendo; it cannot be else. For here lies the point: If I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act: and an act hath three branches; it is, to act, to do, and to perform: Argal, she drowned herself wittingly.

2 Clo. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver. 1 Clo. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here stands the man; good: If the man go to this water, and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes; mark you that: but if the water come to him, and drown him, he drowns not himself: Argal, he, that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life.

2 Clo. But is this law?

1 Clo. Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law. 2 Clo. Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of Christian burial.

1 Clo. Why, there thou say'st: And the more pity, that great folks shall have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their even Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers; they hold up Adam's profession. 1 Not blunted as foils are.

As fire-arms sometimes burst in proving their strength. • Skill. • Immediately. • Fellow.

1 Clo. What is he, that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?

2 Clo. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.

1 Clo. I like thy wit well, in good faith; the gallows does well: But how does it well? it does well to those that do ill: now thou dost ill, to say, the gallows is built stronger than the church; argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again; come.

2 Clo. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?

1 Clo. Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.1
2 Clo. Marry, now I can tell.
1 Clo. To't.

2 Clo. Mass, I cannot tell.

Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance.

1 Clo. Cudgel thy brains no more about it; for your dull ass will mend his pace with beating: and, when you are asked this question next, say, a grave-maker; the houses that he makes, last till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan, and fetch me a stoup of liquor.

A cup for the purpose. • Licentious. 1 Give over.

[Exit 2 Clown.

• Thrust.

⚫ Insensible.

the lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken note of it; the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe.--How long hast thou been a grave-maker!

1 Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. Ham. How long's that since?

1 Clo. Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell he that is mad, and sent into England. that: It was that very day that young Hamlet was

1 Clo. But age, with his stealing steps, Hath claw'd me in his clutch, And hath shipped me into the land, As if I had never been such. [Throws up a Skull. Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: How the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! This might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God, might it not?

Hor. It might, my lord.

Ham. Or of a courtier; which could say, Goodmorrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord? This might be my lord Such-a-one, that praised my lord Such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?

Hor. Ay, my lord.

Ham. Why, e'en so: and now my lady Worm's; chapless, and knocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade: Here's fine revolution, and we had the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at loggats with them? mine ache to think on't.

1 Clo. A pickaxe, and a spade, a spade,

For-and a shrouding sheet:

[Sings.

O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet. [Throws up a Skull. Ham. There's another: Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddits1 now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery! Humph! This fellow might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognisances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries: Is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more? ha?

Hor. Not a jot more, my lord.

Ham. Is not parchment made of sheep-skins? Hor. Ay, my lord, and of calves'-skins too. Hum. They are sheep, and calves, which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow:Whose grave's this, sirrah?

1 Clo. Mine, sir.

O, a pit of clay for to be made

For such a guest is meet.

Sings.

Ham. I think it be thine indeed; for thou liest in't.

1 Clo. You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, yet it is mine. Ham. Thou dost lie in't, to be in't, and say it is thine: 'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.

1 Clo. 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again from me to you.

Ham. What man dost thou dig it for?

1 Clo. For no man, sir.

Ham. What woman, then?

1 Clo. For none neither.

Ham. Who is to be buried in?

1 Clo. One, that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.

Ham. How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. By 2 The song entire is printed in Percy's Reliques of ancient English Poetry, vol. i.: it was written by Lord Vaux. An ancient game, played as quoits are at present. 4 Subtilties. Frivolous distinctions.

By the compass.

Ham. Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?

1 Clo. Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits there; or, if he do not, 'tis no great matter there.

Ham. Why?

1 Clo. Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad as he.

Ham. How came he mad?

1 Clo. Very strangely, they say. Ham. How strangely?

1 Clo. 'Faith, e'en with losing his wits. Ham. Upon what ground?

1 Clo. Why, here in Denmark; I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years.

Ham. How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?

1 Clo. 'Faith, if he be not rotten before he die, (as we have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce hold the laying in,) he will last you some eight year or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.

Ham. Why he more than another?

1 Clo. Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that he will keep out water a great while; and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a skull now hath lain you i' the earth three-and-twenty years.

Ham. Whose was it?

Ham. Alas! poor Yorick!-I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips, that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come: make her laugh at that.Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing.

Hor. What's that, my lord?

Ham. Dost thou think, Alexander looked o' this fashion i' the earth?

Hor. E'en so.

Ham. And smelt so? pah!

[Throws down the Skull.

Hor. E'en so, my lord. Ham. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till he find it stopping a bunghole?

sider so. Hor. "Twere to consider too curiously, to con

Ham. No, faith, not jot: but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: As thus; Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam: and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beerbarrel?

Imperious Cæsar, dead, and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away: O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!! But soft! but soft! aside:-Here comes the king.

Laer. What ceremony else?
Ham.

A very noble youth: Mark.

Laer. What ceremony else?

That is Laertes,

1 Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarged As we have warranty: Her death was doubtful; And, but that great command o'ersways the order, She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd Till the last trumpet; for charitable prayers, Shards,3 flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her;

Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,4
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.

Laer. Must there no more be done?
1 Priest.
No more be done!
We should profane the service of the dead,
To sing a requiem,5 and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.
Laer.

Lay her i' the earth;And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring!--I tell thee, churlish priest, A minist'ring angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling.

Ham.

What! the fair Ophelia! Queen. Sweets to the sweet: Farewell! [Scattering Flowers. I hoped, thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife; I thought, thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid, And not have strew'd thy grave. Laer.

O, treble woe Fall ten times treble on that cursed head, Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense Deprived thee of!-Hold off the earth a while, Till I have caught her once more in mine arms: [Leaps into the grave. Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead; Till of this flat a mountain you have made To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head Of blue Olympus.

Ham. [Advancing.] What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them

stand

Ham. Thou pray'st not well.

I pr'ythee, take thy fingers from my throat;
For, though I am not splenetive and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous,

Which, let thy wisdom fear: hold off thy hand.
King. Pluck them asunder.
Queen.
All. Gentlemen,-

Hor.

Hamlet! Hamlet!

Good my lord, be quiet.

[The Attendants part them, and they come out of the Grave.

Ham. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme, Until my eyelids will no longer wag. Queen. O my son, what theme?

Ham. I lov'd Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.-What wilt thou do for her? King. O, he is mad, Laertes.

Queen. For love of God, forbear him. Ham. 'Zounds, show me what thou'lt do: Woul't weep? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't

tear thyself?

Woul't drink up Esil?7 eat a crocodile?
I'll do't.-Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I:

And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us; till our ground,

2 Undo, destroy. • Broken pots or tiles. • Garlands. A mass for the dead. • Living.

Eisel is vinegar; but Mr. Stevens conjectures the word should be Weisel, a river which falls into the Baltic Ocean.

Queen.

Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thoul't mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.
This is mere madness;
And thus a while the fit will work on him;
Anon, as patient as the female dove,
When that her golden couplets are disclos'd,8
His silence will sit drooping.

Ham.

Hear you, sir; What is the reason that you use me thus? I lov'd you ever: But it is no matter; Let Hercules himself do what he may, The cat will mew, and dog will have his day. [Exit. King. I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.[Exit HORATIO. Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech; [To LAERTES.

W'll put the matter to the present push.-
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.-
This grave shall have a living monument:
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-A Hall in the Castle.

Enter HAMLET and HORATIO. Ham. So much for this, sir: now, shall you see the other;

You do remember all the circumstance?
Hor. Remember it, my lord?
Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,
That would not let me sleep: methought, I lay
Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,
And prais'd be rashness for it,-Let us know,
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
When our deep plots do pall;2 and that should
teach us,

There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.

Hor.

That is most certain.

Ham. Up from my cabin, My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark Grop'd I to find out them: had my desire; Finger'd their packet; and, in fine, withdrew To mine own room again: making so bold, My fears forgetting manners, to unseal Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio, A royal knavery; an exact command,Larded with many several sorts of reasons, Importing Denmark's health, and England's too, With, ho! such bugs3 and goblins in my life,— That on the supervise, no leisure bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, My head should be struck off. Hor.

Is't possible?

Ham. Here's the commission; read it at more leisure.

But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?
Hor. Ay, 'beseech you.

Ham. Being thus benetted round with villanies,
Or I could make a prologue to my brains,
They had begun the play ;-I sat me down.
Devis'd a new commission; wrote it fair:
I once did hold it, as our statists do,
A baseness to write fair, and labor'd much
How to forget that learning; but, sir, now
It did me yeoman's service: Wilt thou know
The effect of what I wrote?

Hor. Ay, good my lord. Ham. An earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary; As love between them like the palm might flourish; As peace should still her wheaten garland wear, And stand a comma 'tween their amities; And many such like as's of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents, Without debatement further, more or less, He should the bearers put to sudden death, Not shriving time allowed.

Hor. How was this seal'd? Ham. Why, even in that was heaven ordinant: I had my father's signet in my purse, Which was the model of that Danish seal: Folded the writ up in the form of the other; bscribed it; gave't the impression; placed it safely.

The changeling never known: Now the next day

Ham. What imports the nomination of this gen tleman?

Osr. Of Laertes?

Hor. His purse is empty already; all his golden words are spent.

Ham. Of him, sir.

Osr. I know, you are not ignorant

Ham. I would, you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did, it would not much approves me ;-Well. sir. Osr. You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is

Ham. I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence; but, to know a man well, were to know himself.

Osr. I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him by them, in his meed' he's unfellowed.

Hum. What's his weapon?

Osr. Rapier and dagger.

Ham. That's two of his weapons: but, well.
Osr. The king, sir, hath wagered with him six

England,

What is the issue of the business there.

Ham. It will be short: the interim is mine; And a man's life no more than to say, one. But I am very sorry, good Horatio,

That to Laertes I forgot myself;

For by the image of my cause, I see

The portraiture of his: I'll counts his favors:
But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me
Into a towering passion.
Hor.

Peace; who comes here?
Enter OSRIC.

Osr. Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.

Ham. I humbly thank you, sir.-Dost know this waterfly?

Hor. No, my good lord.

Ham. Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to know him: He hath much land. and fertile: let a beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the king's mess: 'Tis a chough;9 but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.

Osr. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing to you from his majesty. Ham. I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of spirit: Your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.

Osr. I thank your lordship, 'tis very hot. Ham. No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is northerly.

Osr. It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed. Ham. But yet, methinks, it is very sultry and hot; or my complexion

Osr. Exceedingly, my lord: it is very sultryas 'twere, I cannot tell how.-My lord, his majesty bade me signify to you, that he has laid a great wager on your head: Sir, this is the matter,Ham. I beseech you, remember

[HAMLET moves him to put on his Hat. sr. Nay, good my lord; for my ease, in good faith. Sir, here is newly come to court, Laertes: believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent differences, of very soft society, and great showing: Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card3 or calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman

would see.

Ham. Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you though. I know, to divide him inventorially, would dizzy the arithmetic of memory; and yet but raw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article; and his infusion of such dearth and rareness, as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror; and, who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.5

Osr. Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him. Ham. The concernancy, sir? why do we warp the gentleman in our more rawer breath? Osr. Sir?

Hor. Is't not possible to understand in another tongue? You will do't, sir, really.

pawned, as I take it. six French rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers,9 and so: Three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very responsive to the hilts. most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit. Ham. What call you the carriages?

Hor. I knew you must be edified by the margent,' ere you had done.

Osr. The carriages, sir, are the hangers. Ham. The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we could carry a cannon by our sides; I would, it might be hangers till then. But, on: Six Barbary horses against six French, swords, their assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages; that's the French bet against the Danish: Why is this impawned, as you call it?

Osr. The king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes between yourself and him, he shall not exceed you three hits; he hath laid, on twelve for lordship would vouchsafe the answer. nine; and it would come to immediate trial, if your

Ham. How, if I answer, no?

Osr. I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.

Ham. Sir, I will walk here in the hall: If it please his majesty, it is the breathing-time of day with me: let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the king hold his purpose, I will win for him, if I can; if not. I will gain nothing but my shame, and the odd hits.

Osr. Shall I deliver you so?

Ham. To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.

Osr. I commend my duty to your lordship.

[Exit. Ham. Yours, yours.-He does well to commend it himself; there are no tongues else for's turn. Hor. This lapwing3 runs away with the shell on his head.

sucked it. Thus has he (and many more of the Ham. He did comply with his dug, before he same breed, that, I know, the drossy5 age dotes on) only got the tune of the time, and outward habit of encounter; a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through and through the most fonds their trial, the bubbles are out. and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to