I
have not the skill.
Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me!
You
would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you
would
pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my
lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much
music,
excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it
speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be play'd on than
a
pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret
me,
you cannot play upon me.
Enter Polonius.
God bless you, sir!
Pol. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.
Ham. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
Pol. By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.
Ham. Methinks it is like a weasel.
Pol. It is back'd like a weasel.
Ham. Or like a whale.
Pol. Very like a whale.
Ham. Then will I come to my mother by-and-by.- They fool me to
the
top of my bent.- I will come by-and-by.
Pol. I will say so. Exit.
Ham. 'By-and-by' is easily said.
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