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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)


    Prince of Denmarke.
    Get you a place.
    King. How fares our cosin Hamlet?
    Ham. Excellent yfaith,
    Of the Camelions dish, I eate the ayre,
    1950Promiscram'd, you cannot feede Capons so.
    King. I haue nothing with this aunswer Hamlet,
    These words are not mine.
    Ham. No, nor mine now my Lord.
    You playd once i'th Vniuersitie you say,
    1955Pol. That did I my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor,
    Ham. What did you enact?
    Pol. I did enact Iulius Cæsar, I was kild i'th Capitall,
    Brutus kild mee.
    1960Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill so capitall a calfe there,
    Be the Players readie?
    Ros. I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience.
    Ger. Come hether my deere Hamlet, sit by me.
    Ham. No good mother, heere's mettle more attractiue.
    1965Pol. O ho, doe you marke that.
    Ham. Lady shall I lie in your lap?
    Ophe. No my Lord.
    1970Ham. Doe you thinke I meant country matters?
    Oph. I thinke nothing my Lord.
    Ham. That's a fayre thought to lye betweene maydes legs.
    Oph. What is my Lord?
    Ham. Nothing.
    1975Oph. You are merry my Lord.
    Ham. Who I?
    Oph. I my Lord.
    Ham. O God your onely Iigge-maker, what should a man do but
    be merry, for looke you how cheerefully my mother lookes, and my
    1980father died within's two howres.
    Oph. Nay, tis twice two months my Lord.
    Ham. So long, nay then let the deule weare blacke, for Ile haue a
    sute of sables; o heauens, die two months agoe, and not forgotten yet,
    1985then there's hope a great mans memorie may out-liue his life halfe a
    yeere, but ber Lady a must build Churches then, or els shall a suffer
    not thinking on, with the Hobby-horse, whose Epitaph is, for ô, for
    ô, the hobby-horse is forgot.
    H.
    Enter