1 Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus.
2 Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.
3 I'll call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane.
4 So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
5 Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
6 For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him that he is young; And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you.
7 Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltemand, Cornelius, Lords and Attendant.
8 Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it, Since nor th'exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was.
9 I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
10 Break we our watch up, and by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen tonight Unto young Hamlet; for upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
11 So, gentlemen, With all my love I do commend me to you; And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do t'express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack.
12 For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.
13 O Hamlet, what a falling off was there, From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage; and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine.
14 Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father; But you must know, your father lost a father, That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound In filial obligation, for some term To do obsequious sorrow.
15 Madam, come; This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart; in grace whereof, No jocund health that Denmark drinks today But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, And the King's rouse the heaven shall bruit again, Re-speaking earthly thunder.
16 Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe; Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves.
17 My lord, as I was sewing in my chamber, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd, No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd, Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle, Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
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