Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.

Ham. Sir, a whole history.

Guil. The king, sir,—

Ham. Ay, sir, what of him?

Guil Is in his

Guil. What, my lord ?

Ham. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's disea sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; or you say, my mother: therefore, no more, but to the m mother, you say,

Ros. Then thus she says: Your behavior hath struc amazement and admiration.

Ham. O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mothe there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration; i Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet.

Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. any further trade with us?

Ros. My lord, you once did love me.

Ham. And do still, by these pickers and stealers.

Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper surely, but bar the door upon your own liberty, if you griefs to your friend.

Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.

Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the self for your succession in Denmark ?

Ham. Ay sir, but While the grass grows, the prover thing musty

Enter the Players, with recorders.

O, the recorders :- let me see one. To withdraw with y do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you wou into a toil ?

Guil. O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is nerly.

Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play

bipe?

Guil. My lord, I cannot.

Ham. I pray you.

Guil. Believe me, I cannot.

The speech of vantage. Fare you well, my liege:
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,

And tell you what I know.

King. Thanks, dear my lord,

[E

O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;

It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't,
A brother's murder !-Pray can I not,
Though inclination be as sharp as will;
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;
And, like a man to double business bound,

I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens, To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy, But to confront the visage of offence ? And what's in prayer, but this two-fold force,To be forestalled, ere we come to fall, Or pardon'd, being down? Then I'll look up; My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder !That cannot be; since I am still possess'd Of those effects for which I did the murder, My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence? In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice; And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself Buys out the law: But 'tis not so above : There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. What then? what rests? Try what repentance can: What can it not ?

No, by the rood, not so;

n, your husband's brother's wife;

vere not so!-you are my mother.

en I'll set those to you that can speak.

ome, and sit you down; you shall not budge;

set you up a glass

see the inmost part of you.

vilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?

[Lifts up the arras, and draws forth POLONIUS

t a rash and bloody deed is this !