For Gods sake let the doores be shut on him,
He may play the foole no where but in his
Owne house: to a Nunnery goe.
Ofel. Help him good God.
Ham. If thou dost marry, Ile giue thee
This plague to thy dowry:
Be thou as chaste as yce, as pure as snowe,
Thou shalt not scape calumny, to a Nunnery goe.
Ofel. Alas, what change is this?
Ham. But if thou wilt needes marry, marry a foole,
For wisemen know well enough,
What monsters you make of them, to a Nunnery goe.
Ofel. Pray God restore him.
Ham. Nay, I haue heard of your paintings too,
God hath giuen you one face,
And you make your selues another,
You fig, and you amble, and you nickname Gods creatures,
Making your wantonnesse, your ignorance,
A pox, t'is scuruy, Ile no more of it,
It hath made me madde: Ile no more marriages,
All that are married but one, shall liue,
The rest shall keepe as they are, to a Nunnery goe,
To a Nunnery goe. exit.[E2]
Ofe. Great God of heauen, what a quicke change is this?
The Courtier, Scholler, Souldier, all in him,
All dasht and splinterd thence, O woe is me,
To a seene what I haue seene, see what I see. exit.
King Loue? No, no, that's not the cause, Enter King and
Some deeper thing it is that troubles him. Corambis.
Cor. Wel, something it is: my Lord, content you a while,
I will my selfe goe feele him; let me worke,
Ile try him euery way: see where he comes,
Send you those Gentlemen, let me alone
To finde the depth of this, away, be gone. exit King.
Now my good Lord, do you know me? Enter Hamlet.
Ham. Yea very well, y'are a fishmonger.
Cor. Not I my Lord.
Ham. Then sir, I would you were so honest a man,
For to be honest, as this age goes,
Is one man to be pickt out of tenne thousand.
Cor. What doe you reade my Lord?
Ham. Wordes, wordes.
Cor. What's the matter my Lord?
Ham. Betweene who?
Car. I meane the matter you reade my Lord.
Ham. Mary most vile heresie:
For here the Satyricall Satyre writes,
That olde men haue hollow eyes, weake backes,
Grey beardes, pittifull weake hammes, gowty legges,
All which sir, I most potently beleeue not:
For sir, your selfe shalbe olde as I am,
If like a Crabbe, you could goe backeward.
Cor. How pregnant his replies are, and full of wit:
Yet at first he tooke me for a fishmonger:
All this comes by loue, the vemencie of loue,
And when I was yong, I was very idle,
And suffered much extasie in loue, very neere this:
Will you walke out of the aire my Lord?
Ham. Into my graue. [E2v]
Cor. By the masse that's out of the aire indeed,
Very shrewd answers,
My lord I will take my leaue of you.
Enter Gilderstone, and Rossencraft.
Ham. You can take nothing from me sir,
I will more willingly part with all,
Olde doating foole.
Cor, You seeke Prince Hamlet, see, there he is. exit.
Gil. Health to your Lordship.
Ham. What, Gilderstone, and Rossencraft,
Welcome kinde Schoole-fellowes to Elsanoure.
Gil. We thanke your Grace, and would be very glad
You were as when we were at Wittenberg.
Ham. I thanke you, but is this visitation free of
Your selues, or were you not sent for?
Tell me true, come, I know the good King and Queene
Sent for you, there is a kinde of confession in your eye:
Come, I know you were sent for.
Gil. What say you?
Ham. Nay then I see how the winde sits,
Come, you were sent for.
Ross. My lord, we were, and willingly if we might,
Know the cause and ground of your discontent.
Ham. Why I want preferment.
Ross. I thinke not so my lord.
Ham. Yes faith, this great world you see contents me not,
No nor the spangled heauens, nor earth, nor sea,
No nor Man that is so glorious a creature,
Contents not me, no nor woman too, though you laugh.
Gil. My lord, we laugh not at that.
Ham. Why did you laugh then,
When I said, Man did not content mee?
Gil. My Lord, we laughed when you said, Man did not
content you.
What entertainment the Players shall haue,
We boorded them a the way: they are comming to you. [E3]
Ham. Players, what Players be they?
Ross. My Lord, the Tragedians of the Citty,
Those that you tooke delight to see so often. (stie?
Ham. How comes it that they trauell? Do they grow re-
Gil. No my Lord, their reputation holds as it was wont.
Ham. How then?
Gil. Yfaith my Lord, noueltie carries it away,
For the principall publike audience that
Came to them, are turned to priuate playes,
And to the humour of children.
Ham. I doe not greatly wonder of it,
For those that would make mops and moes
At my vncle, when my father liued,
Now giue a hundred, two hundred pounds
For his picture: but they shall be welcome,
He that playes the King shall haue tribute of me,
The ventrous Knight shall vse his foyle and target,
The louer shall sigh gratis,
The clowne shall make them laugh (for't,
That are tickled in the lungs, or the blanke verse shall halt
And the Lady shall haue leaue to speake
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