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I pr’ythee, gentle keeper, stay by me :
My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.
14. SCROOP AND RICHARD, SCROOP. More health and happiness betide my liege, Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him ! K. RICH. Mine ear is open,
and my heart prepared ; The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold. Say, is my kingdom lost? Why 'twas my care; And what loss is it to be rid of care ? Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? Greater he shall not be; if he serve God, We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so. Revolt our subjects ? that we cannot mend; They break their faith to God, as well as us. Cry woe, destruction, ruin, loss, decay; The worst is death, and death will have his day.
SCROOP. Glad am I that your highness is so armed
To bear the tidings of calamity.
Like an unseasonable stormy day,
Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,
As if the world were all dissolved to tears ;
So high above his limits swells the rage
Of Bolingbrokecovering your fearful land
With hard bright steel, and hearts more hard than steel.
White beards have armed their thin and hairless scalps
Against thy majesty ; boys, with women's voices,
Strive to speak big, and clasp their female joints
In stiff unwieldy arms, against thy crown;
beadsmen learn to bend their bows
Of double fatal yew against thy state.
Yea, distaff women manage rusty bills
Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
K. Rich. Too well, too well, thou tell’st a tale so ill. Where is the earl of Wiltshire ? where is Bagot ? What is become of Bushy ? where is Green ?
No matter where : of comfort no man speak, Let's talk of graves, of worms and epitaphs. Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloadeth thee. Friend thou hast none;
For thy own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor
But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
Becomes as aged ; and doth beg the alins
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this
That bears the name of life ? yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear
That makes these odds all even.
9. HAMLET AND HORATIO. HOR. Hail to your lordship! HAM.
I am glad to see you well, Horatio !-or do I forget myself ?
Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
Ham. Sir, my good friend; I’li change that name with And what makes you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? [you;
HOR. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself. I know you are no truant:
But what is your affair in Élsinore ?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
HOR. My lord, I came to see your father's funerai.
Ham. I pr’ythee do not mock me, fellow-student : I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio ; the funeral bak'd meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my direst foe in heaven, Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio ! My father-methinks I see my father. .
Hor. Where,ʻmy lord ?
In my mind's eye, Horatio.
HOR. I saw him once; he was a goodly king
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
HOR. My lord, I think I saw him yester night.
Ham. Saw! who ?
HOR. My lord, the king your father.
The king my father!
HOR. Season your admiration but a while
With an attentive ear; till I deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.
Ham. For Heaven's love let me hear. HOR. Two nights together had these gentlemen Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead waste and middle of the night, Been thus encounter’d: a figure like your father, Arm'd at all points exactly, cap-à-pie, Appears before them, and with solemn march Goes slow and stately by them; thrice he walk'd By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, Within his truncheon's length; whilst they (distillid Almost to jelly with the act of fear) Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did, And I with them the third night kept the watch; Where, as they had delivered, both in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The apparition comes. I knew your father : These hands are not more like. Ham.
But where was this?
HOR. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.
Ham. Did you not speak to it?
My lord, I did;
But answer made it none. Yet once methought
It lifted up its head and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak,
But even then the morning cock crew loud;
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And found no course of breath with.n your majesty,
How cold it struck my heart ! if I do feign,
O let me in my present wildness die,
And never live to show th' incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposed.
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
(And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,)
I spake unto the crown, as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: “The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father,
Therefore, thou best of gold, art worst of gold:
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life in medicine potable :
But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,
Hast eat thy bearer up.” Thus, my most royal liege,
Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it (as with an enemy,
That had before my
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride,
If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it,
Let Heaven for ever keep it from my head,
And make me as the poorest vassal is,
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
K. HEN. O my son !
Heaven put it in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou might'st win the more thy father's love,
Pleading so wisely in excuse of it.
Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed ;
And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
That ever I shall breathe. Heaven knows, my son,
By what by-paths, and indirect crook'd ways,
I met this crown; and I myself know well
How troublesome it sat upon my head.
To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation:
For all the soil of the achievement goes