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Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,

For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,

Giving to you no further personal power Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat To business with the king, more than the scope Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, Of these dilated articles allow. Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,

Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty. The extravagant and erring spirit hies

Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we shux To his contine: and of the truth herein

our duty. This present object made probation.

l'ing. We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell. Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.


[Ereunt VoLTIMAND and CORNELIUS. Some that ever 'gainst that season comes And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,

You told us of some suit ? What is't, Laertes?
This bird of dawning singeth all night long : You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; And loose your voice: What would'st thou beg,
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking ?
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

The head is not more native to the heart,
Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it. The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,

Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill : What would'st thou have, Laertes ? Break we our watch up; and, by my advice,


My dread lord, Let us impart what we have seen to-night

Your leave and favour to return to France ; Unto young Hamlet : for, upon my life,

From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him :

To show my duty in your coronation ; Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, As needful in our loves, fitting our duty ?

My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. Where we shall find him most convenient.

King. Have you your father's leave? What says [Ercunt.


Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow SCENE II. The same. A Room of State in

leave, the same.

By laboursome petition ; and, at last,

Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: Enter the King, QULEN, Hamlet, POLONIUS, | I do beseech you, give him leave to go. LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and

king. Take thy fair hour, Laertes ; time be thine, Attendants.

And thy best graces : spend it at thy will. King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son, death

llam. A little more than kin, and less than kind. The memory be green ; and that it us befitted

[Aside. To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom K'ing. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? To be contracted in one brow of woe ;

Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i'the sun. Yet so far bath discretion fought with nature,

Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, That we with wisest sorrow think on him,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lids Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, Seek for thy noble father in the dust : The imperial jointress of this warlike state,

Thou know'st, 'tis cominon; all, that live, must die, Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,

Passing through nature to eternity. With one auspicious, and one dropping eye;

Ham. Ay, madam, it is common. With mirth and funeral, and with dirge in marriage, Queen.

If it be, In equal scale, weighing delight and dole, - Why seems it so particular with thee? Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd

Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along : For all, our thanks. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras — Nor customary suits of solemn black, Holding a weak supposal of our worth ;

Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,

Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Colleagued with this dream of his advantage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, That can denote me truly : These, indeed, seem, Importing the surrender of those lands

For they are actions that a man might play: Lost by his father, with all bands of law,

But I have that within, which passeth show; To our most valiant brother. So much for him. These, but the trappings and the suits of woe. Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting.

king. 'Tis sweets and commendable in your Thus much the business is : We have here writ

nature, Hamlet, To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

To give these mourning duties to your father : Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears

But, you must know, your father lost a father; Of this his nephew's purpose, - to suppress That father lost, lost his ; and the surviyor bound His further gait herein ; in that the levies,

In filial obligation, for some term
The lists, and full proportions, are all made To do obsequious sorrow : But to perséver
Out of his subject :- and we here despatch In obstinate condolement, is a course


with you.

Of impious stubbornness ; 'tis unmanly grief : It is not, nor it cannot come to, good ;
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven;

But break, my heart ; for I must hold my tongue',
A heart unfortified, or mind impatient :
An understanding simple and unschool'd :

Enter Horatio, BERNARDO, and MARCELLUS. For what, we know, must be, and is as common Hor. Hail to your lordship! As any of the most vulgar thing to sense,


I am glad to see you well : Why should we, in our peevish opposition,

Horatio, - or I do forget myself. Take it to heart? Fye! 'tis a fault to heaven,

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,

Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name To reason most absurd; whose common theme Is death of fathers, and who suill hath cried,

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? From the first corse, till he that died to-day,

Marcellus ?
This must be so. We pray you, throw to earth Mar. My good lord,
This unprevailing woe; and think of us

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, sir,As of a father : for let the world take note,

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg ? You are the most immediate to our throne;

Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord. And, with no less nobility of love,

Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so ; Than that which dearest father bears his son, Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, Do I impart toward you. For your intent To make it truster of your own report In going back to school in Wittenberg,

Against yourself: I know, you are no truant. It is most retrograde to our desire:

But what is your affair in Elsinore ? And, we beseech you, bend you to remain

We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart. Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, I think, it was to see my mother's wedding. Hainlet;

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'u
Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

meats On
K'ing. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply ; Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Be as ourself in Denmark. - Madam, come ; 'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
This gentle and unfore’d accord of Hamlet

Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio !
Sits smiling to my heart : in grace whereof,

My father, Methinks, I see my father. No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to-day, Hor.

Where, But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell; My lord ? And the king's rouse the heaven shali bruit again, Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.' Re-speaking earthly thunder.

Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king. [Exeunt King, Queen, Lords, fc. Polonius, Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all, and LAERTES.

I shall not look upon his like again. Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

Ham. Saw who? 2 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

Hor. My lord, the king your father. His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! Ham.

The king my fathHow weary, stale, fat, and unprofitable

Hor. Season your admiration for a while, Seem to me all the uses of this world!

With an attent ear; till I may deliver, Fye on't! O fye! 'tis an unweeded garden, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in

This marvel to you. nature,

Нат. .

For God's love, let me hear. Possess merely. That it should come to this ! Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, But two months dead !--nay, not so much, not two;

Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, So excellent a king ; that was, to this,

In the dead waist and middle of the night, Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,

Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, That he might not beteen' the winds of heaven Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pé, Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Appears before them, and, with solemn march, Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, Goes slow and stately by them : thrice he walk'd, As if increase of appetite had grown

By their oppress'd and fear-surprized eyes, By what it fed on : And yet, within a month, Within his truncheon's length ; whilst they, distill’o Let me not think on't ; Frailty, thy name is Almost to jelly with the act of fear, woman!

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me A little month; or ere those shoes were old, In dreadful secrecy impart they did; With which she follow'd my poor father's body, And I with them, the third night kept the watch: Like Niebe, all tears ;--- why she, even she,

Where, as they had deliver’d, both in time, O heaven a beast, that wants discourse of reason, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, Would -bave mourn'd longer, -- married with my The apparition comes : I knew your father ; uncle,

These hands are not more like, My father's brother; but no more like my father, Ham.

But where was this. Than I to Hercules : Within a month ;

Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

watch'd. Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

Ham. Did you not speak to it? She married :-( most wicked speed, to post


My lord, I did : With such dexterity to incestuous sheets !

But answer made it none : yet once, methought,

Come away.

It lifted up its head, and did address

Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, Itself to motion, like as it would speak :

The perfume and suppliance of a minute ; But, even then, the morning cock crew loud ;

No more. And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,

Oph. No more but so? And vanish'd from our sight.


Think it no more : Ham.

'Tis very strange. For nature, crescent, does not grow alone Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; In thews, and bulk ; but, as this temple waxes, And we did think it writ down in our duty,

The inward service of the mind and soul To let you know of it.

Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now; Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch Hold you the watch to-night?

The virtue of his will : but, you must fear, AN.

We do, my lord. His greatness weigh’d, his will is not his own ; Ham. Arm'd say you-?

For he himself is subject to his birth :
Arm'd, my lord.

He may not, as unvalued persons do,

From top to toe? Carve for himself; for on his choice depends AU. My lord, from head to foot.

The safety and the health of the whole state ; Ham.

Then saw you not And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd His face.

Unto the voice and yielding of that body, Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Whereof he is the head: Then if he says, he loves you, Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

It fits your wisdom so far to believe it, Hor.

A countenance more As he in his particular act and place In sorrow than in anger.

May give his saying deed ; which is no further, Ham. Pale, or red ?

Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Hor. Nay, very pale.

Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, Ham.

And fix'd his eyes upon you? If with too credent ear you list his songs ; Hor. Most constantly.

Or lose your heart ; or your chaste treasure open Ham.

I would, I had been there. To his unmaster'd importunity. Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; Ham.

Very like, And keep you in the rear of your affection, Very like: Stay'd it long?

Out of the shot and danger of desire. Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a The chariest maid is prodigal enough, hundred.

If she unmask her beauty to the moon: Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.

Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes i en Hor. Not when I saw it.

The canker galls the infants of the spring, Ham.

His beard was grizzl’d? no? Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
A sable silver'd.

Contagious blastments are most imminent.
I will watch to-night ;

Be wary then : best safety lies in fear ;
Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. Hor.

I warrant, it will. Oph. I shall the effect of this good Jesson keep, Ham. If it assume my noble father's person, As watchmen to my heart : But, good my brother, I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,

Whilst, like a puffod and reckless libertine, Let it be tenable in your silence still; 18 Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,

And recks not his own read. Give it an understanding, but no tongue ;


O fear me nota
I will requite your loves : So, fare you well : I stay too long; - But here my father comes
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

Our duty to your honour.

A double blessing is a double grace ;
Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell. Occasion smiles upon a second leave.

(Exeunt HoratiO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for My father's spirit in arms! all is not well ;

shame; I doubt

, some foul play: 'would, the night were come! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, Till then sit still, my soul : Foul deeds will rise, And you are staid for : There, my blessing with you! Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

[Laying his hand on LAERTES' head. [Erit. And these few precepts in thy memory

Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, SCENE III. A Room in Polonius' House. Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Laer. My necessaries are embark'd; farewell : Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; And, sister, as the winds give benefit,

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,

Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware But let me hear from you.

Of entrance to a quarrel : but, being in, Oph.

Do you doubt that ? Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee. Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice : Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood;

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement A violet in the youth of primy nature,

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

bis rouse,

But not express'd in fancy: rich, not gaudy: As to give words or talk with the lord Ilam!et. For the apparel oft proclaims the man;

Look to't, I charge you ; come your ways. And they in France, of the best rank and station, Oph. I shall obey, my lord.

(Ereunt. Are most select and generous, chief in that. Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:


· The Platform. For loan oft loses both itself and friend ; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and MARCELLUS. This above all, To thine ownself be true;

Ham. The air bites shrewdly ; it is very cold. And it must follow, as the night the day,

Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air. Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Ham. What hour now ? Farewell ; my blessing season this in thee !


I think, it lacks of twelve. Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. Mar. No, it is struck. Pol. The time invites you ; go, your servants tend. Hor. Indeed ? I heard it not; it then draws near Laer. Farewell, Ophelia : and remember well

the season, What I have said to you.

Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. Opl. 'Tis in my memory lock’d,

[A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shof And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

off, wihin. Laer. Farewell.


What does this mean, my lord ? Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes Oph. So please you, something touching the lord Hamlet.

Keeps wassel, and the swaggering up-spring reels ; Pol. Marry, well bethought :

And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late

The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
Given private time to you : and you yourself The triumph of his pledge.
Have of your audience been most free and boun- Hor.

Is it a custom ?

Hum. Ay, marry, is't : If it be so, (as so 'tis put on me,

But to my mind, - though I am native here, And that in way of caution,) I must tell you, And to the manner born, - it is a custom You do not understand yourself so clearly,

More honour'd in the breach, than the observance. As it behoves my daughter, and your honour : This heavy-headed revel, east and west, What is between you ? give me up the truth. Makes us traduc'd, and tax'd of other nations : Opk. He hath, my lord, of late, made many They clepe us, drunkards, and with swinish phrase tenders

Soil our addition; and, indeed, it takes Of his affection to me.

From our achievements, though perform’d at height, Pol. Affection ? puh! you speak like a green girl, The pith and marrow of our attribute, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.

So, oft it chances in particular men, Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? That for some vicious mole of nature in them,

Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should think. | As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty Pol. Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a Since nature cannot choose his origin,) baby ;

By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason ; Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens dearly;

The form of plausive manners ; - that these men, -
Or, (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect;
Wronging it thus,) you'll tender me a fool.

Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,
Oph. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love, Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace,
In honourable fashion.

As infinite as man may undergo,)
Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it ; go to, go to. Shall in the general censure take corruption
Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, From that particular fault: The dram of base

Doth all the noble substance often dout, i With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

To his own scandal.
Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,

Enter Ghost.
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,


Look, my lord, it comes ! Giving more light than heat, - extinct in both, Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us :Even in their promise, as it is a making,

Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, You must not take for fire. From this time, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be somewhat scanter of your

maiden presence ;

Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Set your entreatments at a higher rate,

Thou com’st in such a questionable shape, Than a command to parley. For lord Hamlet, That I will speak to thee ; I'll call thee, Hamlet, Believe so much in him, That he is young i King, father, royal Dane : 0, answer me: And with a larger tether may he walk, ,

Let me not burst in ignorance! but tell, Than may be given you : In few, Ophelia,

Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death, Do not believe his vows: for they are brokers Have burst their cerements! why the sepulchre, Not of that die which their investments show, Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urn'd, But mere implorators of unholy suits,

Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws, Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,

To cast thee up again! What may this mean, The better to beguile. This is for all,

That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel, I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, Have you so alander any moment's leisure,

Making night hideous; and we fools of nature,

3 M 3

my lord,


So horribly to shake our disposition,

Are burnt and purg'd away:

But that I am forbid With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls ? To tell the secrets of my prison-house, Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Hor. It beckons you to go away with it,

Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; As if it some impartment did desire

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; To you alone.

Thy knotted and combined lacks to part, Mar.

Look, with what courteous action And each particular hair to stand on end, It waves you to a more removed ground:

Like quills upon the fretful porcupine :
But do not go with it.

But this eternal blazon must not be
No, by no means,

To ears of flesh and blood : — List, list, O list!
Ham. It will not speak; then I will follow it. If thou didst ever thy dear father love,
Hor. Do not, my lord.

Ham. O heaven! Ham.

Why, what should be the fear ? Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatura. I do not set my life at a pin's fee;

murder. And, for my soul, what can it do to that,

Ham. Murder ?

una fra Being a thing immortal as itself?

Ghost, Murder most foul, as in the best it is; It waves me forth again; — I'll follow it.

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural Hor. What, if it tempt you toward the flood, my Ham. Haste me to know it; that I, withi wings lord,

as swift Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff,

As meditation, or the thoughts of love, That beetles o'er his base into the sea ?

May sweep to my revenge. And there assume some other horrible form,


I find thee apt; Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason, And duller should'st thou be than the fat weed And draw you into madness ? think of it :

That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, The very place puts toys of desperation,

Would'st thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: Without more motive, into every brain,

'Tis given out, that sleeping in mine orchard, That looks so many fathoms to the sea,

A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark And hears it roar beneath.

Is by a forged process of my death
It waves me still :

Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,
Go on, I'll follow thee.

The serpent that did sting thy father's life, Mar. You shall not go, my lord.

Now wears his crown. Ham.

Hold off your hands. Ham. O, my prophetick soul! my uncle ! Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not go.

Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, Ham.

My fate cries out, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts, And makes each petty artery in this body

(O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power As hardy as the Némean lion's nerve.

So to seduce !) won to his shameful lust

[Ghost beckons. The will of my most seeming virtuous queen : Still am I callid;- unhand me, gentlemen ; 0, Hamlet, what a falling-off' was there! 3

[Breaking from them. From me, whose love was of that dignity, By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me: - That it went hand in hand even with the vow I say, away : Go on, I'll follow thee. it was I made to her in marriage ; and to decline

[Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. | Upon a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination. To those of mine! Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. But virtue, as it never will be mov'd, Hor. Have after: – To what issue will this come? | Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven; Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, Hor. Heaven will direct it.

Will sate itself in a celestial bed, Mar.

Nay, let's follow him.

And prey on garbage. Hulle moe [Exeunt. | But, soft! methinks, I scent the morning air ;

Brief let me be : Sleeping within mine orchard, SCENE V. - A more remote Part of the Platform. My custom always of the afternoon,

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
Re-enter Ghost and HAMLET.

With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, Ham. Whither wilt thou lead ine? speak, I'll go And in the porches of mine ears did pour no further.

The leperous distilment; whose effect
Ghost. Mark me.

Hokis such an enmity with blood of man,
I will.

That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through

My hour is almost come, The natural gates and alleys of the body;
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset
Must render up myself.

And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
Alas, poor ghost !

The thin and wholesome blood : so did it mine;
Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
To what I shall unfold.

Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, Ham.

Speak, I am bound to hear. All my smooth body.
Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand,
Ham. What?

Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatch'd : Ghost. I am thy father's spirit;

Cut off' even in the blossoms of my sin, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night; Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd; And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires,

No reckoning made, but sent to my account Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, With all my imperfections on my head :

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