The Tragedy of Hamlet Ham. He poysons him for his estate.
King Lights, I will to bed.
Cor. The king rises, lights hoe.
Exeunt King and Lordes. Ham. What, frighted with false fires?
Then let the stricken deere goe weepe,
The Hart vngalled play,
For some must laugh, while some must weepe,
Thus runnes the world away.
Hor. The king is mooued my lord.
Hor.am: I Horatio, i'le take the Ghosts word
For more then all the coyne in Denmarke.
Enter Rossencraft and Gilderstone. Ross. Now my lord, how i'st with you?
Ham. And if the king like not the tragedy,
Why then belike he likes it not perdy.
Ross. We are very glad to see your grace so pleasant,
My good lord, let vs againe intreate
To know of you the ground and cause of your distempera (ture
Gil. My lord, your mother craues to speake with you.
Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother.
Ross. But my good Lord, shall I intreate thus much?
Ham. I pray will you play vpon this pipe?
Ross. Alas my lord I cannot.
Ham. Pray will you.
Gil. I haue no skill my Lord.
Ham. why looke, it is a thing of nothing,
T'is but stopping of these holes,
And with a little breath from your lips,
It will giue most delicate musick.
Gil. But this cannot wee do my Lord.
Ham. Pray now, pray hartily, I beseech you.
Ros. My lord wee cannot.
Ham. Why how vnworthy a thing would you make of (me?
You
Prince of Denmarke You would seeme to know my stops, you would play vpon mee,
You would search the very inward part of my hart,
And diue into the secreet of my soule.
Zownds do you thinke Iam easier to be pla'yd
On, then a pipe? call mee what Instrument
You will, though you can frett mee, yet you can not
Play vpon mee, besides, to be demanded by a spunge.
Ros. How a spunge my Lord?
Ham. I sir, a spunge, that sokes vp the kings
Countenance, fauours, and rewardes, that makes
His liberalitie your store house: but such as you,
Do the king, in the end, best seruise;
For hee doth keep you as an Ape doth nuttes,
In the corner of his Iaw, first mouthes you,
Then swallowes you: so when hee hath need
Of you, t'is but squeesing of you,
And spunge, you shall be dry againe, you shall.
Ros. Wel my Lord wee'le take our leaue.
Ham Farewell, farewell, God blesse you.
Exit Rossencraft and Gilderstone. Enter Corambis Cor. My lord, the Queene would speake with you.
Ham. Do you see yonder clowd in the shape of a camell?
Cor. T'is like a camell in deed.
Ham. Now me thinkes it's like a weasel.
Cor. T'is back't like a weasell.
Ham. Or like a whale.
Cor. Very like a whale. exit Coram.
Ham. Why then tell my mother i'le come by and by.
Good night Horatio.
Hor. Good night vnto your Lordship. exit Horatio.
Ham. My mother she hath sent to speake with me:
O God, let ne're the heart of Nero enter
This soft bosome.
Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall.48
G I
