Ham. Bid the Players make hast.
Exit Polonius.[3]
Will you two helpe to hasten them?[4]
Both. We will my Lord. Exeunt. [Sidenote: Ros. I my Lord. Exeunt they two.]
Enter Horatio[5]
Ham. What hoa, Horatio? [Sidenote: What howe,]
Hora. Heere sweet Lord, at your Seruice.
[Sidenote: 26] Ham.[7] Horatio, thou art eene as iust a man
As ere my Conversation coap'd withall.
Hora. O my deere Lord.[6]
Ham.[7] Nay do not thinke I flatter:
For what aduancement may I hope from thee,[8]
That no Reuennew hast, but thy good spirits
To feed and cloath thee. Why shold the poor be flatter'd?
No, let the Candied[9] tongue, like absurd pompe, [Sidenote: licke]
And crooke the pregnant Hindges of the knee,[10]
Where thrift may follow faining? Dost thou heare,
[Sidenote: fauning;]
Since my deere Soule was Mistris of my choyse;[11]
[Sidenote: her choice,]
And could of men distinguish, her election
Hath seal'd thee for her selfe. For thou hast bene
[Sidenote: S'hath seald]
[Sidenote: 272] As one in suffering all, that suffers nothing.
A man that Fortunes buffets, and Rewards
Hath 'tane with equall Thankes. And blest are those, [Sidenote: Hast]
Whose Blood and Iudgement are so well co-mingled,
[Sidenote: comedled,[12]
[Sidenote: 26] That they are not a Pipe for Fortunes finger,
To sound what stop she please.[13] Giue me that man,
That is not Passions Slaue,[14] and I will weare him
In my hearts Core: I, in my Heart of heart,[15]
As I do thee. Something too much of this.[16]