POLONIUS.
That’s good! ‘Mobled queen’ is good.
FIRST PLAYER.
Run barefoot up and down, threat’ning the flames
With bisson rheum. A clout upon that head
Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,
About her lank and all o’erteemed loins,
A blanket, in th’alarm of fear caught up—
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep’d,
’Gainst Fortune’s state would treason have pronounc’d.
But if the gods themselves did see her then,
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
In mincing with his sword her husband’s limbs,
The instant burst of clamour that she made,—
Unless things mortal move them not at all,—
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven,
And passion in the gods.
POLONIUS.
Look, where he has not turn’d his colour, and has tears in’s eyes. Pray you, no more.
HAMLET.
’Tis well. I’ll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.—Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time. After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
POLONIUS.
My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
HAMLET.
God’s bodikin, man, much better. Use every man after his desert, and who should ’scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
POLONIUS.
Come, sirs.
HAMLET.
Follow him, friends. We’ll hear a play tomorrow.
[Exeunt Polonius with all the Players but the First.]
Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play The Murder of Gonzago?