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Hamlet:
It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mouths at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little. ’Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
(Flourish of trumpets within.)
Guildenstern:
There are the players.
Hamlet:
Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come. The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players, which I tell you must show fairly outward, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
Guildenstern:
In what, my dear lord?
Hamlet:
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Enter Polonius.
Polonius:
Well be with you, gentlemen.
Hamlet:
Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too, at each ear a hearer. That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling clouts.
Rosencrantz:
Happily he’s the second time come to them; for they say an old man is twice a child.
Hamlet:
I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it.—You say right, sir: for a Monday morning ’twas so indeed.
Polonius:
My lord, I have news to tell you.
Hamlet:
My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome—
Polonius:
The actors are come hither, my lord.
Hamlet:
Buzz, buzz.
Polonius:
Upon my honour.
Hamlet:
Then came each actor on his ass—
Polonius:
The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light, for the law of writ and the liberty. These are the only men.
Hamlet:
O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!
Polonius:
What treasure had he, my lord?
Hamlet:
Why—
’One fair daughter, and no more,
The which he loved passing well.’
Polonius:
(Aside.) Still on my daughter.
Hamlet:
Am I not i’ th’ right, old Jephthah?
Polonius:
If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well.
Hamlet:
Nay, that follows not.
Polonius:
What follows then, my lord?