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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    The Tragedie of Hamlet
    2550To punish me with this, and this with me,
    That I must be their scourge and minister,
    I will bestowe him and will answere well
    The death I gaue him; so againe good night
    I must be cruell only to be kinde,
    2555This bad beginnes, and worse remaines behind.
    2555.1One word more good Lady.
    Ger. What shall I doe?
    Ham. Not this by no meanes that I bid you doe,
    Let the blowt King temp't you againe to bed,
    Pinch wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouse,
    2560And let him for a paire of reechie kisses,
    Or padling in your necke with his damn'd fingers.
    Make you to rouell all this matter out
    That I essentially am not in madnesse,
    But mad in craft, t'were good you let him knowe,
    2565For who that's but a Queene, faire, sober, wise,
    Would from a paddack, from a bat, a gib,
    Such deare concernings hide, who would doe so,
    No, in dispight of sence and secrecy,
    Vnpeg the basket on the houses top,
    2570Let the birds fly, and like the famous Ape,
    To try conclusions in the basket creepe,
    And breake your owne necke downe.
    Ger. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath
    And breath of life, I haue no life to breath
    2575What thou hast sayd to me.
    Ham. I must to England, you knowe that.
    Ger. Alack I had forgot.
    Tis so concluded on.
    2577.1Ham. Ther's letters seald, and my two Schoolefellowes,
    Whom I will trust as I will Adders fang'd,
    They beare the mandat, they must sweep my way
    And marshall me to knauery: let it worke,
    2577.5For tis the sport to haue the enginer
    Hoist with his owne petar, an't shall goe hard
    But I will delue one yard belowe their mines,
    And blowe them at the Moone: ô tis most sweete
    When in one line two crafts directly meete,