His antike sword rebellious to this Arme,
Lies where it falles, vnable to resist.
_Pyrrus_ at _Pryam_ driues, but all in rage,
Strikes wide, but with the whiffe and winde
Of his fell sword, th' unnerued father falles.
_Cor._ Enough my friend, t'is too long.
_Ham._ It shall to the Barbers with your beard:
A pox, hee's for a Iigge, or a tale of bawdry,
Or else he sleepes, come on to _Hecuba_, come.
_Play._ But who O who had seene the mobled Queene?
_Cor._ Mobled Queene is good, faith very good.
_Play._ All in the alarum and feare of death rose vp,
And o're her weake and all ore-teeming loynes, a blancket
And a kercher on that head, where late the diademe stoode,
Who this had seene with tongue inuenom'd speech,
Would treason haue pronounced, [E4v]
For if the gods themselues had seene her then,
When she saw _Pirrus_ with malitious strokes,
Mincing her husbandes limbs,
It would haue made milch the burning eyes of heauen,
And passion in the gods.
_Cor._ Looke my lord if he hath not changde his colour,
And hath teares in his eyes: no more good heart, no more.
_Ham._ T'is well, t'is very well, I pray my lord,
Will you see the Players well bestowed,
I tell you they are the Chronicles
And briefe abstracts of the time,
After your death I can tell you,
You were better haue a bad Epiteeth,
Then their ill report while you liue.