Page 310 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Make you to ravel all this matter out
That I essentially am not in madness,
But mad in craft. ’Twere good you let him know, [190]
For who that’s but a queen, fair, sober, wise,

Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,
Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so?
No, in despite of sense and secrecy,
Unpeg the basket on the house’s top, [195]

Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape,
To try conclusions, in the basket creep,
And break your own neck down.

QUEEN
Be thou assur’d, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe [200]

What thou hast said to me.

HAMLET
I must to England, you know that?

QUEEN
Alack,
I had forgot. ’Tis so concluded on.

HAMLET
There’s letters seal’d, and my two schoolfellows,

Whom I will trust as I will adders fang’d − [205]
They bear the mandate, they must sweep my way
And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
For ’tis the sport to have the enginer

Hoist with his own petard, and’t shall go hard
But I will delve one yard below their mines [210]
And blow them at the moon. O, ’tis most sweet
When in one line two crafts directly meet.

This man shall set me packing.
I’ll lug the guts into the neighbour room.
Mother, good night indeed. This counsellor [215]
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,