Hamlet, Quarto 2
King.O tis too true,
How smart a lash that speech doth giue my conscience.
The harlots cheeke beautied with plastring art,
Is not more ougly to the thing that helps it,
Then is my deede to my most painted word:
O heauy burthen.
Enter Hamlet.
Pol.I heare him comming, with-draw my Lord.
Ham.To be, or not to be, that is the question,
(TLN 1701-1710; QLN 1622-30)
