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HORATIO, friend to Hamlet. LAERTES, son GERTRUDE, queen of Denmark, and mother to Hamlet. .. Have of your audience been most free and bounteous. Book: Hamlet. The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark is a tragedy written by William Shakespeare between and The play vividly portrays both true and feigned madness—from overwhelming grief to seething rage—and explores themes of treachery, revenge, incest, and. Free download of Hamlet by William Shakespeare. Available in PDF, ePub and Kindle. Read, write reviews and more.

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The Tragedy ofHamlet p r i n c e o f d e n ma r k t h e a n n o tat e d s h a k e s p e a r e Hamlet William S. [Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes and his sister .. Have of your audience been most free and bounteous. Next day Hamlet utters his soliloquy, " To be or not to be," encounters Ophelia as arranged by. Polonius, gives his advice to the players, is present at.

All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form beyond that copying permitted by Sections and of the U. Copyright Law and except by reviewers for the public press , without written permission from the publishers. Essay by Harold Bloom reprinted by permission of Chelsea House. Printed in the United States of America by R. Includes bibliographical references. Hamlet Legendary character —Drama. Raffel, Burton. Bloom, Harold. But what needs even more, and far more detailed, explanation are the very words.

Claudius then turns his attention to Laertes, who petitions the King for permission to return to school in France. Gertrude and Claudius encourage him to cease grieving and to get on with life. Nay, it is. Claudius reminds Hamlet that he is next in line to the throne, and asks him not to return to school in Wittenberg, a request that Gertrude reiterates.

Hamlet acquiesces without enthusiasm. Satisfied that they have had their way, Claudius and Gertrude leave Hamlet to his own thoughts. In his first soliloquy, Hamlet bemoans the fact that he cannot commit suicide. Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo enter, and Hamlet, unguarded with Horatio as with no one else, snidely jokes that King Claudius has sought to save money by using the funeral refreshments to feed his wedding guests.

Horatio seizes the opportunity to tell Hamlet about his encounter with the Ghost of the old king. Hamlet agrees to watch that night in case the Ghost walks again. Commentary It is significant that Claudius admonishes Hamlet as he addresses him for the first time in the play. Claudius is clearly the antagonist, and he begins his hour upon the stage in a blatantly adversarial role. He then goes on to say that the moods and shapes of grief are true for him.

Though his emotions may seem to be those of an actor, he is not acting. Everything in this scene points to the challenge of discerning appearance from reality, a challenge that becomes more pronounced when Horatio tells Hamlet about the appearance of the Ghost. He scolds Hamlet in a manner befitting a concerned parent and a responsible monarch.

The act fails to impress Hamlet, but Claudius remains unaware that his ruse proved itself ineffective. He is most aware of this incest horror, although he suspects other crimes as well. She genuinely appears to desire happiness for Hamlet, to desire him to stay and be her dutiful son. Seemingly naive and ingenuous, she contrasts starkly with Claudius, who calculates his every word and move to have an effect on his assemblage. If she is less forthright and honest than she appears here, Shakespeare gives no hint.

In order to make the portrayal believable, the actress must commit to whether Gertrude is playing a role or whether she is genuine. The Ghost in Scene l established the lack of clear lines between the real and the perceived, but the web of deceit and bewilderment in this scene casts a shadow that will hover over the breadth of the play.

To Hamlet, all others are making show. A simple beast without the reasoning skills of a human being would have shown more respect for a dead mate, moans Hamlet. Worse yet, Hamlet must question her judgment. Hamlet sees Claudius as a satyr—a beast-man driven by his appetites—whereas Old Hamlet was Hyperion, the sun god himself.

How can he trust a woman who would trade a god for a goat? Hercules was a warrior who acted on impulse and charged enthusiastically into battles without questioning the ideology of the fight. Unlike Hercules, Hamlet drowns in words and perpetually struggles toward understanding. Elizabethan laws had only recently been changed to ban such unions. Glossary in one brow of woe Everyone in the kingdom ought to mourn.

This word was used for any near relation; here it would refer to nephew. Be as ourself in Denmark Claudius is extending to Hamlet all the special privileges and prerogatives belonging to a crowned prince. Hyperion a Titan often identified with the sun god. Niobe in Greek mythology, a queen of Thebes who, weeping for her slain children, is turned into a stone from which tears continue to flow; hence, an inconsolable woman.

Hercules in Greek and Roman mythology, the son of Zeus, renowned for his strength and courage, especially as shown in his performance of twelve labors imposed on him. Season your admiration Moderate your wonder.

Shakespeare frequently uses admiration in its original Latin sense of wonder. He counsels his sister Ophelia to spurn the advances of her suitor, Prince Hamlet. He explains that, to Hamlet, she can never be anything more than a plaything.

Hamlet, Laertes tells Ophelia, is of a higher rank than she and cannot choose with whom he will spend his life. To protect her heart and to safeguard her honor, Laertes asserts that Ophelia should reject Prince Hamlet before he deflowers her. Laertes agrees, telling Polonius that he really must be going, and reminding Ophelia of his directive to her. She promises to take his advice and to lock it safely in her heart.

Polonius asks Ophelia what she and Laertes were discussing, and she tells him that Laertes advised her about Prince Hamlet. Polonius launches into his own diatribe on the subject, saying that Hamlet is a red-blooded male who wants her for only one purpose and that she must spurn his advances.

Ophelia promises to obey her father and break off her relationship with the Prince. In fact, he never consults her but rather speaks at her in metaphorical posturing that underscores her feminine inferiority. Shakespeare aptly underscores the fact that Laertes is the perfect foil for Hamlet. He has memorized his speech as if it were taken from his schoolboy copybook, and he shows that he is vain and ordinary with limited intellectual capabilities.

This scene begins to reveal how Laertes might be similar to Hamlet—and decidedly different. Polonius lives in a world of show. His instructions in social etiquette may have ethical substance but lack practical soundness for Laertes.

When he speaks to Ophelia, he treats her the way one would expect a man of his time and stature to treat a daughter, as property. A woman should bring honor and fortune to her family, and the image Ophelia projects for him very much concerns Polonius. He went on to score music for films in the s, the most popular being , for which he won the. Link: To be a succesful writer, you may need to promote, and to do that, you may need guidance.

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Most like:—it harrows me with fear and wonder. There is no end to knowledge. The Comedy of Errors along with The Tempest is one of only two of Shakespeare's plays to observe the classical unities.

Naari Ka Samarpan In Hindi As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on When he the ambitious Norway combated; So frown'd he once when, in an angry parle, He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. Hence this ideal book when it comes to equality in education.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar: Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

This above all- to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. My blessing season this in thee! Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.

The time invites you. Go, your servants tend. Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well What I have said to you. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. Marry, well bethought! What is between you? Give me up the truth.

He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection to me. You speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

I do not know, my lord, what I should think, Polonius. Marry, I will teach you! Think yourself a baby That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly, Or not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Running it thus you'll tender me a fool. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love In honourable fashion. Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to, go to!

And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks! I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both Even in their promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire.

From this time Be something scanter of your maiden presence. Set your entreatments at a higher rate Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you.

In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, Not of that dye which their investments show, But mere implorators of unholy suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.

Look to't, I charge you. Come your ways. I shall obey, my lord. Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. It is a nipping and an eager air. What hour now? I think it lacks of twelve. No, it is struck. I heard it not. It then draws near the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, and the swagg'ring upspring reels, And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.

Is it a custom? Ay, marry, is't; But to my mind, though I am native here And to the manner born, it is a custom More honour'd in the breach than the observance. This heavy-headed revel east and west Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations; They clip us drunkards and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and indeed it takes From our achievements, though perform'd at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. The dram of e'il Doth all the noble substance often dout To his own scandal.

Look, my lord, it comes! Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee.

I'll call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me? Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death, Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws To cast thee up again. What may this mean That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous, and we fools of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?

What should we do? Ghost beckons Hamlet.

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It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Look with what courteous action It waves you to a more removed ground.

But do not go with it! No, by no means! It will not speak. Then will I follow it. Do not, my lord! Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself? I'll follow it. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other, horrible form Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness?

Think of it. The very place puts toys of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain That looks so many fadoms to the sea And hears it roar beneath. It waves me still. Go on. I'll follow thee. You shall not go, my lord. Hold off your hands!

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Be rul'd. You shall not go. My fate cries out And makes each petty artire in this body As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. Unhand me, gentlemen. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. He waxes desperate with imagination. Let's follow. Have after. To what issue will this come? Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Heaven will direct it. Nay, let's follow him. Enter Ghost and Hamlet. Whither wilt thou lead me? I'll go no further. Father's Ghost. Mark me.

I will. My hour is almost come, When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. Alas, poor ghost! Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold. I am bound to hear. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.

But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! If thou didst ever thy dear father love- Hamlet. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther. Murther most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge. I find thee apt; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear. So the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abus'd.

But know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown. O my prophetic soul! My uncle? Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce! O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there, From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine!

Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, My custom always of the afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, With juice of cursed hebona in a vial, And in the porches of my ears did pour The leperous distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That swift as quicksilver it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body, And with a sudden vigour it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood.

So did it mine; And a most instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust All my smooth body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd; Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhous'led, disappointed, unanel'd, No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head.

O, horrible! If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not. Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for luxury and damned incest. But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught.

Leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once. The glowworm shows the matin to be near And gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me. O all you host of heaven! O earth!

What else? Hold, hold, my heart! And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Yes, by heaven! O most pernicious woman! O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! My tables! Meet it is I set it down That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.

Now to my word: It is 'Adieu, adieu! Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Lord Hamlet! Heaven secure him! So be it! Illo, ho, ho, my lord! Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come. How is't, my noble lord? What news, my lord? O, wonderful! Good my lord, tell it. No, you will reveal it. Not I, my lord, by heaven! Nor I, my lord. How say you then? Would heart of man once think it? There's neer a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this. Why, right! You are in the right!

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And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part; You, as your business and desires shall point you, For every man hath business and desire, Such as it is; and for my own poor part, Look you, I'll go pray. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

I am sorry they offend you, heartily; Yes, faith, heartily. There's no offence, my lord. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, And much offence too.

Touching this vision here, It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, Give me one poor request. What is't, my lord? We will. Never make known what you have seen to-night. Nay, but swear't. In faith, My lord, not I. Nor I, my lord- in faith. Upon my sword. We have sworn, my lord, already. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. Ghost cries under the stage. Aha boy, say'st thou so? Art thou there, truepenny? Come on! You hear this fellow in the cellarage.

Consent to swear.

Propose the oath, my lord. Never to speak of this that you have seen. Swear by my sword. Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground. Come hither, gentlemen, And lay your hands again upon my sword. Never to speak of this that you have heard: Well said, old mole!

Canst work i' th' earth so fast? Once more remove, good friends. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on , That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, With arms encumb'red thus, or this head-shake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' Or such ambiguous giving out, to note That you know aught of me- this is not to do, So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.

Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen, With all my love I do commend me to you; And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do t' express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack.

Let us go in together; And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. The time is out of joint. O cursed spite That ever I was born to set it right! Nay, come, let's go together. Enter Polonius and Reynaldo. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. I will, my lord.

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You shall do marvell's wisely, good Reynaldo, Before You visit him, to make inquire Of his behaviour. My lord, I did intend it. Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, What company, at what expense; and finding By this encompassment and drift of question That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it.

Ay, very well, my lord. As gaming, my lord. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, Drabbing. You may go so far. My lord, that would dishonour him. Faith, no, as you may season it in the charge. You must not put another scandal on him, That he is open to incontinency. That's not my meaning. But breathe his faults so quaintly That they may seem the taints of liberty, The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, A savageness in unreclaimed blood, Of general assault.

But, my good lord- Polonius. Wherefore should you do this? Ay, my lord, I would know that. Marry, sir, here's my drift, And I believe it is a fetch of warrant. Very good, my lord. And then, sir, does 'a this- 'a does- What was I about to say?

By the mass, I was about to say something! Where did I leave? At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' and gentleman. At 'closes in the consequence'- Ay, marry! He closes thus: I saw him yesterday, or t'other day, Or then, or then, with such or such; and, as you say, There was 'a gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; There falling out at tennis'; or perchance, 'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. See you now- Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth; And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out.

So, by my former lecture and advice, Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? My lord, I have. God b' wi' ye, fare ye well! Good my lord! Observe his inclination in yourself. I shall, my lord. And let him ply his music.

Well, my lord. What's the matter? O my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! With what, i' th' name of God? My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd, No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd, Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle; Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors- he comes before me.

Mad for thy love? My lord, I do not know, But truly I do fear it. What said he? He took me by the wrist and held me hard; Then goes he to the length of all his arm, And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it.

Long stay'd he so. That done, he lets me go, And with his head over his shoulder turn'd He seem'd to find his way without his eyes, For out o' doors he went without their help And to the last bended their light on me.

Come, go with me. I will go seek the King. I am sorry. No, my good lord; but, as you did command, I did repel his letters and denied His access to me. That hath made him mad. I fear'd he did but trifle And meant to wrack thee; but beshrew my jealousy! By heaven, it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion.

Come, go we to the King. This must be known; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love.

Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation.

So I call it, Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from th' understanding of himself, I cannot dream of. I entreat you both That, being of so young days brought up with him, And since so neighbour'd to his youth and haviour, That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time; so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus That, open'd, lies within our remedy.

Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you, And sure I am two men there are not living To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To show us so much gentry and good will As to expend your time with us awhile For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance. Both your Majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty. But we both obey, And here give up ourselves, in the full bent, To lay our service freely at your feet, To be commanded.

Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz. And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed son. Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him! Ay, amen! Enter Polonius.

Th' ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully return'd. Thou still hast been the father of good news. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege, I hold my duty as I hold my soul, Both to my God and to my gracious king; And I do think- or else this brain of mine Hunts not the trail of policy so sure As it hath us'd to do- that I have found The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

O, speak of that! That do I long to hear. Give first admittance to th' ambassadors. My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. I doubt it is no other but the main, His father's death and our o'erhasty marriage. Well, we shall sift him. Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway? Most fair return of greetings and desires. Upon our first, he sent out to suppress His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack, But better look'd into, he truly found It was against your Highness; whereat griev'd, That so his sickness, age, and impotence Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys, Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine, Makes vow before his uncle never more To give th' assay of arms against your Majesty.

Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee And his commission to employ those soldiers, So levied as before, against the Polack; With an entreaty, herein further shown, [Gives a paper. It likes us well; And at our more consider'd time we'll read, Answer, and think upon this business. Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together. Most welcome home! Exeunt Ambassadors. This business is well ended.

My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night is night, and time is time. Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?

But let that go. More matter, with less art. Madam, I swear I use no art at all. That he is mad, 'tis true: A foolish figure! But farewell it, for I will use no art. Mad let us grant him then. And now remains That we find out the cause of this effect- Or rather say, the cause of this defect, For this effect defective comes by cause.

Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Now gather, and surmise. But you shall hear. Came this from Hamlet to her? Good madam, stay awhile. I will be faithful. But how hath she Receiv'd his love? What do you think of me? As of a man faithful and honourable. 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 winking, 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 I did bespeak: This must not be. 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. Do you think 'tis this? Not that I know. If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.

How may we try it further? You know sometimes he walks for hours together Here in the lobby.

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