Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

[Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears.] Ham. He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His name's Gonzago: The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian; you shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. Oph. The King rises. Ham. What, frighted with false fire! Queen. How fares my lord? Pol. Give o'er the play. King. Give me some light:--away! All. Lights, lights, lights! [Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio.] Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep: So runs the world away.-- Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers--if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me,--with two Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir? Hor. Half a share. Ham. A whole one, I. For thou dost know, O Damon dear, This realm dismantled was Of Jove himself; and now reigns here A very, very--pajock. Hor. You might have rhymed. Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound! Didst perceive? Hor. Very well, my lord. Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning?-- Hor. I did very well note him. Ham. Ah, ha!--Come, some music! Come, the recorders!-- For if the king like not the comedy, Why then, belike he likes it not, perdy. Come, some music! [Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.] Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. Ham. Sir, a whole history. Guil. The king, sir-- Ham. Ay, sir, what of him? Guil. Is, in his retirement, marvellous distempered. Ham. With drink, sir? Guil. No, my lord; rather with choler. Ham. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to the doctor; for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far more choler. Guil. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start not so wildly from my affair. Ham. I am tame, sir:--pronounce. Guil. The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you. Ham. You are welcome. Guil. Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I will do your mother's commandment: if not, your pardon and my return shall be the end of my business. Ham. Sir, I cannot. Guil. What, my lord? Ham. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but, sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,-- Ros. Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into amazement and admiration. Ham. O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother!--But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed. Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any further trade with us? Ros. My lord, you once did love me.