Pol. Oh ho, do you marke that?
Ham. Ladie, shall I lye in your Lap?
Ophe. No my Lord
Ham. I meane, my Head vpon your Lap?
Ophe. I my Lord
Ham. Do you thinke I meant Country matters?
Ophe. I thinke nothing, my Lord
Ham. That's a faire thought to ly betweene Maids legs
Ophe. What is my Lord?
Ham. Nothing
Ophe. You are merrie, my Lord?
Ham. Who I?
Ophe. I my Lord
Ham. Oh God, your onely Iigge-maker: what should a man do, but be merrie. For looke you how cheerefully my Mother lookes, and my Father dyed within's two Houres
Ophe. Nay, 'tis twice two moneths, my Lord
Ham. So long? Nay then let the Diuel weare blacke, for Ile haue a suite of Sables. Oh Heauens! dye two moneths ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope, a great mans Memorie, may out-liue his life halfe a yeare: But byrlady he must builde Churches then: or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with the Hoby-horsse, whose Epitaph is, For o, For o, the Hoby-horse is forgot.
Hoboyes play. The dumbe shew enters.
Enter a King and Queene, very louingly; the Queene embracing
him. She
kneeles, and makes shew of Protestation vnto him. He takes her
vp, and
declines his head vpon her neck. Layes him downe vpon a Banke
of Flowers.
She seeing him a-sleepe, leaues him. Anon comes in a Fellow,
takes off his
Crowne, kisses it, and powres poyson in the Kings eares, and
Exits. The
Queene returnes, findes the King dead, and makes passionate
Action. The
Poysoner, with some two or three Mutes comes in againe, seeming
to lament
with her. The dead body is carried away: The Poysoner Wooes the
Queene with
Gifts, she seemes loath and vnwilling awhile, but in the end,
accepts his
loue.