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But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his foulfo to his own conceit,
That,from her working,all his vifage wann'd!
Tears in his eyes, diftraction in 's afpect,
A broken voice, and hiswhole function fuiting
With forms to his conceit and all for no-
What's Hecuba to him,or he to Hecuba, [do,
That he fhould weep for her? what would he
Had he the motive and the cue for paflion,
That I have? he would drown the stage with
And cleave the gen'ral ear with horrid fpeech;
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free,
Confound the ignorant; and amaze, indeed,
The very faculties of eyes and ears.
A dull and muddy mettled rafcal, speak,
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,
And can fay nothing; no, not for a king,
Upon whofe property and moft dear life
A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain? breaks my pate acrofs?
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by the nofe, gives me the lie i'
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this?
Ha! why, I should take it :-for it cannot be,
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppeffion bitter; or, ere this,
I fhould have fatted all the region kites
With this flave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kind-
Why, what an afs am I? This is moft brave;
That I, the fon` of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven, and hell,
Muft like a whore, unpack my heart with
And fall a curfing like a very drab-[words,
Fie upon 't! foh! About, my brains! Humph!
I have heard,
That guilty creatures, fitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been fo ftruck to the foul, that prefently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions:
For murder, tho' it have no tongue, will fpeak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have these
Play fomething like the murder of my father,
Before mine uncle: I'll obferve his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick; if he do blench,
I know my courfe. The fpirit that I have feen,
May be a devil: and the devil hath pow'r
To affume a pleafing fhape; yea,and, perhaps,
Out of my weaknef's and melancholy,
(As he is very potent with fuch fpirits)
Abufes me to damn me I'll have grounds
More relative than this, the play's the thing,
Wherein I'll catch the confcience of the king.
King. O, 'tis too true! how smart
The harlot's cheek, beautied with platt ring
A lafh that fpeech does give my confcience!
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,
Than is my deed to my most painted word
Life and Death weighed.
We are oft, to blame in this-'Tis too much prov'd-that, with devotion's vifage And pious action, we do fugar o'er The devil himself,
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether'tis nobier in the mind, to fuffer
The flings and arrows of outrageous fortune;
Or to take arms against a fea of troubles,
And by oppofing, end them; To die-
No more; and by a fleep to fay we end
The heart-ach, and the thoufand natural shocks
That fleth is heir to;-'tis a confummation
Devoutly to be with'd. To die ;-to fleep;
To fleep! perchance, to dream;ay, there's
For in that fleep of death what dreams may
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Mult give us paufe:-there's the refpect,
That makes calamity of fo long life; [time,
For who would bear the whips and fcorns of
Th' oppreffer's wrong, the proud man's con-
The pangs of defpis'd love, the law's delay,
The infolence of office, and the fpurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bez,
To grunt and fweat under a weary life;
But that the dread of fomething after death,
The undifcover'd country, from whose bours
No traveller returns-puzzles the will!
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus confcience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of refolution
Is ficklied o'er with the pale caft of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lofe the name of action,
Be thou as chafe as ice, as pure as fnow, Thou shalt not efcupe calumny.
14 noble Mind difordered.
O what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courties's, foldier's, scholar'seye,tongue, fiyord:
Th' expectancy and rafe of the fair, state,
The glafs of fashion, and the mould of form,
Th' obferv'd of all obfervers! quite, quite
I am of ladies moft dejected and wretched,
That fuck'd the honey of his music vows,
Now fee that noble and not fovereign reason,
Like fweet bells jangled,out of tune and harf.
That unmatch'd form and feature of blewa
Blafted with extaly.
On Flattery, and an even-minded Man.
For what advancement may I hope from thee,
Nay, do not think I flatter
That no revenue haft, but thy good fpirits,
To feed and clothe thee? Why would the
poor be flatterdr
et the candied tongue lick abfurd pomp; | Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart, witli ftrings crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, re thrift may follow fawning. Doft thou bear?
my dear foul was miftrefs of her choice, could of mea diftinguish her election, ath feal'd thee for herfelf: for thou haft been
e, in fuffering all, that fuffers nothing;
n, that fortune's buffets and rewards
ta'en with equal thanks: and bleft are
fe blood and judgment are fo well com-
they are not a pipe for fortune's finger,
ound what itop the pleafe: Give me the
t is not paffion's flave, and I will wear him y heart's core—ay, in my heart of heart, do thee.
is now the very witching time of night;
n church-yards yawn, and hell itfelf
agion to this world: Now could I drink
do fuch business as the bitter day
ld quake to look on. Soft; now to my mo-
art, lofe not thy nature: let not ever[ther.
foul of Nero enter this firm bofom:
me be cruel, not unnatural:
Il fpeak daggers to her, but ufe none.
e King's defpairing Soliloquy, and Hamlet's
Reflections on him.
Be foft as finews of the new-born babe;
All may be well!
[The King heels.
Ham. Now might I do it, pat, now he is pray-
And now I'll do't; and fo he goes to heav'ng
And fo am reveng'd? that would be scann'd:
A villain kills my father; and, for that,
I, his fole fon, do this fame villain fend
Why this is hire and falary, not revenge.
He took myfather grofsly, full of bread;[May;
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as
And, how his audit ftands, who knows, fave
, my offence is rank, it fmells to heav'n; ith the primal, eldest curse upon 't, rother's murder! Pray I cannot,
inclination be as fharp as will; ftronger guilt defeats my strong intent; 1, like a man to double business bound, and in paufe where I fhall firft begin, d both neglect. What if this curfed hand re thicker than itself with brother's blood? here not rain enough in the fweet heavens wash it white as fnow? Whereto ferves to confront the vifage of offence? [mercy, what's in prayer, but this two-fold force be foreftalled, ere we come to fall, pardon'd, being down? then I'll look up; fault is paft. But O, what form of prayer ferve my turn? Forgive me my foul at cannot be; fince I am still poffefs'd [der! those effects for which I did the murder, crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. y one be pardon'd, and retain th' offence? The corrupted currents of this world, Ence's gilded hand may fhove by justice: doft 'tis feen, the wicked prize itself ys out the law but 'tis not fo above: ere is no fhuffling, there the action lies Its true nature; and we ourselves compell'd en to the teeth and forehead of our faults give in evidence. What then? what refts y what repentance can: what ean it not? t what can it, when one canhot repent £ wretched ftate! O bofom, Black as death! limed foul! that, ftruggling to be free, tore engag'd! help, angels, make allay!
Butikourcircumftance, and course of thought,
Tis heavy with him: and am I then reveng'a
To take him in the purging of his foul,
When he is fit and feasoned for his paffage?
Up fword; and know thou a more horrid hent
When he is drunk, afleep, or in his rage;
Or in the incestuous pleafures of his bed;
At gaming, fwearing; or about fome act
That has no relish or falvation in't: [ven;
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at hea
And that his foul may be as damn'd, and
As hell whereto it goes.
"Hamlet and his Mother.
Queen. What have I done, that thou dar'ft In noife fo rude against me? [wag thy tongue Ham. Such an act,
That blurs the grace and blush of modefty;
Calls virtue hypocrite; takes of the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And fets a blifter there; makes marriage-vows
As falfe as dicers' oaths: O, fuch a deed,
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very foul! and fweet religion makes
A raphfody of words.
Queen. Ah me, what act!
Ham. Look here, upon this picture, and on
The counterfeit prefentment of two brothers.
See what a grace was feated on this brow:
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jova himself;
An eye like Mars, to threaten or command;
A ftation like the herald Mercury,
mur-New-lighted on a heaven-kifting hill;
A combination, and a form, indeed,
Where every god did feem to fet his feal,
To give the world affurance of a man;[follows;
This was your husband, Look you now, what
Here is your hufband; like a mildew'd ear,
Blaftinghiswhole fomebrother. Have youeyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten on this moor?
Queen. O, Hamlet, fpeak no more;
Thou turn ft mine eyes into my very foul;
And there I fee fuch black and grained fpots,
As will not leave their tinet.
Ham. Save me, and hover o'er me with your
You heavenly guards!-What would your
Queen. Alas! he's mad.
Ham. Do you not come your tardy fon to
That, laps'd in time and paffion, lets go by
Th'important acting of your dread command?
Ghoft. Do not forget: this vifitation
Is but to whet thy almoft blunted purpose.
But, look! amazement on thy mother fits:
Oftep between her and her fighting foul!
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works;
Speak to her, Hamlet.
Ham. How is it with you, Lady?
Queen. Alas! how is it with you?
That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
Andwith the incorporeal air do hold difcourfe?
Forth at your eyes your fpirits wildly peep;
And, as the fleeping foldiers in the alarm,
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
Starts up and ftands on end. O, gentle fon,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
Ham. On him on him! look you, how
pale he glares!
His form and caufe conjoin'd, preaching to
Would make them capable. Do not look on me,
Left, with this piteous action, you convert
My ftern effects: then, what I have to do
Will want true colour; tears, perchance, for
Queen. To whom do you speak this? [blood.
Ham. Do you fee nothing there?
Pointing to the Ghaft.
Queen. Nothing at all; yet all, that is,I fee.
Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?
Queen. No, nothing, but ourselves.
Ham. Why, look you there! look how it
My father, in his habit as he liv'd!
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the
Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain:
This bodilefs creation ecstasy
Is very cunning in.
Mypulfe,as yours,doth temperatelykeeptime,
And makes as healthful mufic: it is not mad.
That I have utter'd: bring me to the teft,[ness
And I the matter will re-word: which madnefs
Wouldgambol from, Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your foul.
That not your trefpafs, but my madness speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place;
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unfeen.-Confefs yourfelf to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come.
Queen. O Hamlet! thou hast cleft my heart
Ham. O, throw away the worfer part of it,
And leave the purer with the other half.
Good night but go not to my uncle's bed:
Affume a virtue, if you have it not.
That monfter cuftom, who all fenfe doth eat
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this;
That to the ufe of actions fair and good
He likewife gives a frock, or livery,
That aptly is put on: refrain to-night;
And that thall lend a kind of,ealinefs..
Forufe can almost change the ftamp of nature,
And either curb the devil or throw him out
With wondrous potency. Once more, good.
And when you are defirous to be bleft,
I'll bleffing beg of you.
Queen. What thall I do?
Ham. Not this, by no means, that I bid you
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;
Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his
And let him for a pair of reechy kiffes,
Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fin
Make you to ravel all this matter out,fgers,
That I effentially am not in madness, [know,
But mad in craft. 'Twere good, you let him
Queen. Be thou affur'd, if words be made of
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
What thou haft faid to me.
Ham. I must to England, you know that?
Queen Alack, I had forgot;
'Tis fo concluded on.
Ham. There's letters feal'd; and my two schoolfellows,
Whom I will truft, as I will adders fang,
They bear the mandate; they must fweep!
And mar fhal me to knavery: let it work;
For 'tis the fport, to have the engineer
Hoift with his own petar: and it shall go hard,
But I will delve one yard below their mine,
And blow them at the moon.
Hamlet's Reflection on his own Irrefolution.
How all occafions do inform against me,
And fpur my dull revenge; What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to fleep and feed a beaft, no more.
Sure, he, that made us with luch large dif
Looking before, and after, gave us not courle,
That capability and god-like reafon
To fuft in us unus'd: now, whether it be
Beftial oblivion, or fome craven fcruple
Of thinking too precifely on the event,
A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but on
And ever three parts coward-I do not know
Why yet I live to fay, this thing's to do;
Sith I have caufe, and will, and ftrength, and
To do't. Examples, grofs as earth, exhort me
Witnefs, this army, of fuch mafs, and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince,
Whofe fpirit with divine ambition puft,
Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Expofing what is mortal, and unfure,
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
Even for an egg-fhell. Rightly to be great,
Is, not to ftir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a ftraw,
When honour's at the ftake. How ftand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother ftain'd,
Excitements of my reafon and my blood,
And let all fleep? while to my thame I fee
The imminent danger of twenty thousand men,
That, for a phantafy, and trick of fame,
To the next abftinece: the next more eafy: Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot
Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;
No more fhall trenching war channel her fields;
Nor bruife her flowrets with the armed hoofs
Of hoftile paces: Thofe oppofed eyes,
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
All of one nature, of one fubftance bred-
Did lately meet in the inteftine shock
And furious clofe of civil butchery,
Shall now, in mutual, well-befeeming ranks,
March all one way: and be no more oppos'd
Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies:
The edge of war, like an ill-fheathed knife,
No more fhall cut his mafter.
This is mere madness: thus awhile the fit will work on him; , as patient as the female dove, firft her golden couplets are difclos'd, lence will fit drooping.
Providence directs our Ations. And that should teach us, e's a Divinity that shapes our ends, ;h-hew them how we will.
Give me the cups; let the kettle to the trumpet fpeak, trumpet to the cannoneer without, cannons to the heavens, the heavens to w the King drinks to Hamlet." [earth;
King Henry's Character of Percy, and of his Son Prince Henry.
Yea, there thou mak'ft me fad, and mak'st
In envy that my lord Northumberland [me fin
Should be the father of fo bleft a fon:
A fon, who is the theme of honour's tongue:
Amongst a grove the very straighteft plant;
Who is fweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilft I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and difhonour stain the brow
Of my young Harry.
THE FIRST PART OF HENRY IV. SHAKSPEARE. Peace after civil War. fhaken as we are, fo wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, breath fhort-winded accents of new broils be commenc'd in ftronds afar remote. nore the thirsty entrance of this feil
Prince Henry's Soliloquy.
I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness: Yet herein will I imitate the fun, Who doth permit the bafe contagious clouds To fmother up his beauty from the world; That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may more be wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mifts Of vapours that did feem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holidays, To fport would be as tedious as to work; But, when they feldom come, they wish'd-for come,
And nothing leafeth but rare accidents.
So, when this loofe behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promis'd;
By how much better than my word I am,
By fo much fhall I falfify men's hopes;
And, like bright metal on a fullen ground,
My reformation, glitt'ring o'er my fault,
Shall fhew more goodly,and attract more eyes,
Than that which hath no foil to fet it off,
I'll fo offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time, when men think least I will.
Hotfpur's Defcription of a finical Courtier.
But, I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Breathlefs and faint, leaning upon my fword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new-
Shew'd like a ftuble land at harveft-home:
He was perfumed like a milliner;
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet box, which ever and anon
He gave his nofe, and took't away again:-
Who, therewith angry, when it next came
Took it in fnuff.-And still he fmil'd, and
And, as the foldiers' bare dead bodies by,
He call'dthem--untaughtknaves,unmannerly, On fome greatfudden hafte. O, what portents
To bring a flovenly unhandfome corfe
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holiday and lady terms
He queftion'd me; amongst the reft,demanded
My prifoners, in your majefty's behalf.
I then, all fmarting with any wounds, being
To be fo pefter'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience
Anfwer'd neglectingly I know not what;
Hefhould or hefhouldnot; for he made me mad,
To fee him fhine fo brifk, and fmell fo fweet,
And talk fo like a waiting gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds(God fave)
And telling me the fovereign'ft thing on earth
Was parmacity, for an inward bruife;
And that it was great pity, fo it was,
That villainous falt-petre fhould be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had deftroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for thefe vile guns,
He would himfelf have been a foldier.
By heaven, methinks it were aneafy leap,
To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd
Or dive into the bottom of the deep, [moon;
Where fathom line could never touch the
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
So he thatdoth redeem her thence, might wear
Without co-rival all her dignities.
But out upon this half fac'd fellowship!
Lady Percy's pathetic Speech to her Husband.
O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I, this fortnight, been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, fweet lord, what is't takes from
Thy ftomach, pleafure, and thy golden fleep?
Whydoft thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And ftart fo often when thou fitt'ft alone?
Whyhaftthou loft the frefhblood in thy cheeks?
And giv'n my treafures, and my rights of thee,
To thick ey'd muting, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint flumbers I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars:
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding fteed;
Cry, "Courage! to the field!" and thou haft
Of fallies, and retires; of trenches, tents, [talk'd
Of pallifadoes, frontiers, parapets;
Of bafilifks, of cannon, culverin;
Of prifoners' ranfom, and of foldiers flain,
And all the currents of a heady fight.
Thy fpirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath fo beftirr'd thee in thy fleep,
That beads of fweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream:
And in thy face ftrange motions have appear'd,
Such as we fee when men restrain their breath
Some heavy bufinefs hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, elfe he loves me not.
I cannot blame him: at my nativity,
The front of heaven was full of fiery thape,
Of burning creffets, and, at my birth,
The frame and huge foundation of the earth
Shak'd like a coward.
Hot. Why fo it would have done
At the fame feafon, if your mother's cat
Had kitten'd--tho'yourfelfhad ne'erbeenbora,
Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
In, ftrange eruptions: oft the teeming earth
Is with a kind of cholic pinch'd and vex'd,
By the imprifoning of unruly wind
Within her womb; which, for enlargement
Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples
Steeples, and mofs-grown towers.
On miferable Rhymers.
I had rather be a kitten, and cry-mew,
Than one of these fame metre-ballad mongers;
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
And that would fet my teeth nothing onedg
Nothing fo much as mincing poetry;
'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag
Punctuality in Bargain.
To any well-deferving friend;
I'll give thrice fo much land
But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
Ill cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
A Hufband fung to Sleep by a fair Wife
She bids you
Upon the wanton rushes lay you down,
And reft your gentle head upon her lap,
And he willing the fong that pleafeth you
And on your eye-lids crown the god of fleet,
Charming your blood with pleasing heavi
Making fuch difference 'twixt wake and weep,
As is the difference betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly harness'd tead
Begins his golden progrefs in the caft.
King Henry the IVth to his Son.
Had I fo lavish of my prefence been,
So common hackney'd in the eyes of men,
So ftale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had ftill kept loyal to poffeffion;
And left me in reputelefs banishment,
A fellow of no mark or likelihood.
By being feldom feen, I could not ftir,
But, like a comet, I was wondered at: [he."
That men would tell their children; "This is
Others would fay, "Where? which is Bo
And then I ftole all courtefy from heaven,
And drefs'd myfelf in fuch humility,
That I didpluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Even in the prefence of the crowned king.
Thus did I keep my perfon fresh and new
My prefence, like a robe pontifical,