Queene O Hamlet, speake no more.
Ham. To leaue him that bare a Monarkes minde,
For a king of clowts, of very shreads.
Queene Sweete Hamlet cease. 50
Ham. Nay but still to persist and dwell in sinne,
To sweate vnder the yoke of infamie,
To make increase of shame, to seale damnation.
Queene Hamlet, no more.
Ham. Why appetite with you is in the waine, 55
Your blood runnes backeward now from whence it came,
Who'le chide hote blood within a Virgins heart,
When lust shall dwell within a matrons breast?
Queene Hamlet, thou cleaues my heart in twaine.
Ham. O throw away the worser part of it, and keepe the 60
better.
Enter the ghost in his night gowne.
Saue me, saue me, you gratious
Powers aboue, and houer ouer mee,
With your celestiall wings.
Doe you not come your tardy sonne to chide, 65
That I thus long haue let reuenge slippe by?
O do not glare with lookes so pittifull!
Lest that my heart of stone yeelde to compassion,
And euery part that should assist reuenge,
Forgoe their proper powers, and fall to pitty. 70