Ham. O, but she'll keep her word.
King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in't?
Ham. No, no! They do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i'
th'
world.
King. What do you call the play?
Ham. 'The Mousetrap.' Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the
image of a murther done in Vienna. Gonzago is the duke's
name;
his wife, Baptista. You shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish piece
of
work; but what o' that? Your Majesty, and we that have free
souls, it touches us not. Let the gall'd jade winch; our
withers
are unwrung.
Enter Lucianus.
This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.
Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
Ham. I could interpret between you and your love, if I could
see
the puppets dallying.
Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
Ham. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.
Oph. Still better, and worse.
Ham. So you must take your husbands.- Begin, murtherer. Pox,
leave
thy damnable faces, and begin! Come, the croaking raven doth
bellow for revenge.
Luc.
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