be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the king’s mess; ‘tis a chough; but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.
Osr. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing to you from his majesty.
Ham. I will receive it with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; ‘tis for the head.
Osr.
I thank your lordship, t’is very hot.
Ham.
No, believe me, ‘tis very cold; the wind is northerly.
Osr.
It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
Ham.
Methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.
Osr. Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,—as ‘twere—I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager on your head. Sir, this is the matter,—
Ham.
I beseech you, remember,—
[Hamlet moves him to put on his hat.]
Osr. Nay, in good faith; for mine ease, in good faith. Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent differences, of very soft society and great showing: indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or calendar of gentry; for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see.
Ham. Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;—though, I know, to divide him inventorially would dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.
Osr.
Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
Ham. The concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer breath?
Osr.
Sir?
Hor. Is’t not possible to understand in another tongue? You will do’t, sir, really.
Ham.
What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
Osr.
Of Laertes?
Hor.
His purse is empty already; all’s golden words are spent.
Ham.
Of him, sir.
Osr.
I know, you are not ignorant,—
Ham. I would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did, it would not much approve me.—Well, sir.
Osr.
You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is,—
Ham. I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence; but to know a man well were to know himself.
Osr. I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him by them, in his meed he’s unfellowed.
Ham.
What’s his weapon?
Osr.
Rapier and dagger.
Ham.
That’s two of his weapons:—but well.
Osr. The king, sir, hath wager’d with him six Barbary horses: against the which he has imponed, as I take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit.
Ham.
What call you the carriages?
Hor.
I knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.
Osr.
The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
Ham. The phrase would be more german to the matter if we could carry cannon by our sides. I would it might be hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horses against six French swords, their assigns, and three liberal conceited carriages: that’s the French bet against the Danish: why is this all imponed, as you call it?
Osr. The king, sir, hath laid that, in a dozen passes between your and him, he shall not exceed you three hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and it would come to immediate trial if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
Ham.
How if I answer no?
Osr.
I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
Ham. Sir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please his majesty, it is the breathing time of day with me: let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the king hold his purpose, I will win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.
Osr.
Shall I redeliver you e’en so?
Ham.
To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.
Osr.
I commend my duty to your lordship.
Ham.
Yours, yours.
[Exit Osric.]
He does well to commend it himself; there are no tongues else for’s turn.
Hor.
This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
Ham. He did comply with his dug before he suck’d it. Thus has he,—and many more of the same bevy that I know the drossy age dotes on,— only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter; a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through and through the most fanned and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out,
[Enter a Lord.]
Lord. My lord, his majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who brings back to him that you attend him in the hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.
Ham.
I am constant to my purposes;
