In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.—
Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?
Pol. Good Madam, stay awhile; I will be
faithful.

Doubt thou, the stars are fire;

Doubt, that the sun doth move:

Doubt truth to be a liar;"

But never doubt, I love.

[Reads.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans: but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear Lady, whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet. This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me: And more above, hath his solicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place, All given to mine ear.

King. But how hath she

Receiv'd his love?

Pol. What do you think of me?

King. As of a man faithful and honourable. Pol. I would fain prove so.

But what might

you think,

When I had seen this hot love on the wing,

(As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,
Before my daughter told me,) what might you,
Or my dear Majesty your Queen here, think,
If I had play'd the desk, or table-book;

Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb;
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;
What might you think?
no, I went round to
work,

And my young mistress thus did I bespeak ;
Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy sphere;

This must not be: and then I precepts gave her,
That she should lock herself from his resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;
And he, repulsed, (a short tale to make,)
Fell into a sadness; then into a fast;
Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,
And all we mourn for.

King. Do you think, 'tis this?

Queen. It may be, very likely.

Pol. Hath there been such a time, (l'd fain know that)

That I have positively said, 'Tis so,

When it prov'd otherwise?

King. Not that I know.

Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwise : [Pointing to his head and shoulder.

If circumstances lead me, I will find

Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
Within the centre.

King. How may we try it further?

Pol. You know, sometimes he walks four hours

Here in the lobby.

together,

Queen. So he does, indeed.

Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:

Be you and I behind an arras then;

Mark the encounter: if he love her not,

And be not from his reason fallen thereon,

Let me be no assistant for a state,

But keep a farm, and carters.

King. We will try it.

Enter HAMLET, reading,

Queen. But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away; I'll board him presently: O, give me leave. [Exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants.

How does my good Lord Hamlet?

Ham. Well, God-'a-mercy.

Pol. Do you know me, my Lord?

Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. Pol. Not I, my Lord.

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. Pol. Honest, my Lord?

Ham. Ay, Sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man pick'd out of ten thousand.

Pol. That's very true, my Lord.

Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a God, kissing carrion. Have you

a daughter?

Pol. I have, my Lord.

Ham. Let her not walk i'the sun conception is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive, -friend, look to't.

Pol. How say you by that? [Aside.] Still harping on my daughter: yet he knew me not at first: he said I was a fishmonger: He is far gone, far gone: and, truly, in my youth I suffer'd much extremity for love; very near, this. I'll speak to him again. What do you read, my

Lord?

Ham. Words, words, words!
Pol. What is the matter, my Lord?
Ham, Between who ?

Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my Lord.

Ham. Slanders, Sir: for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled: their eyes purging thick amber, and plum tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: All which, Sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, Sir, shall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. Aside.] Will you walk out of the air, my Lord?

Ham. Into my grave?

Pol. Indeed, that is out o'the air.-How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be deliver'd of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter. My honourable Lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.

Ham. You cannot, Sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life. Pol. Fare you well, my Lord. Ham. These tedious old fools!

Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is.

Ros. God save you, Sir!

Guil. My honour'd Lord!

[TO POLONIUS. [Exit POLONIUS.

Ros. My most dear Lord!

Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?

Ros. As the indifferent children ot the earth. Guil. Happy, in that we are not overhappy; On fortune's cap we are not the very button. Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?

Ros. Neither, my Lord.

Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours?

Guil. 'Faith, her privates. we.

Ham. In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she is a strumpet. What news?

Ros. None, my Lord; but that the world's grown honest.

Ham. Then is doomsday near: But your news is not true. [Let me question more in particular: What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, that she sends you to prison hither?

Guil. Prison, my Lord!

Ham. Denmark's a prison.

Ros. Then is the world one.

Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, aud dungeons; Denmark being one of the worst.

Ros. We think not so, my Lord.

Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so to me it is a prison.

Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.

Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a King of infinite space; were it not that I have bad dreams.