Why she would hang on him, as if increase
Of appetite had growne by what it looked on.
O wicked wicked speede, to make such
Dexteritie to incestuous sheetes,
Ere yet the shooes were olde,
The which she followed my dead fathers corse
Like _Nyobe_, all teares: married, well it is not,
Nor it cannot come to good:
But breake my heart, for I must holde my tongue.
_Enter_ Horatio _and_ Marcellus.
_Hor._ Health to your Lordship.
_Ham._ I am very glad to see you, (Horatio) or I much
forget my selfe.
_Hor._ The same my Lord, and your poore seruant euer.
_Ham._ O my good friend, I change that name with you:
but what make you from _Wittenberg_ H_oratio_?
_Marcellus_.
_Marc._ My good Lord.
_Ham._ I am very glad to see you, good euen sirs;
But what is your affaire in _Elsenoure_?
Weele teach you to drinke deepe ere you depart.
_Hor._ A trowant disposition, my good Lord. [B4v]
_Ham._ Nor shall you make mee truster
Of your owne report against your selfe:
Sir, I know you are no trowant:
But what is your affaire in _Elsenoure_?
_Hor._ My good Lord, I came to see your fathers funerall.
_Ham._ O I pre thee do not mocke mee fellow studient,
I thinke it was to see my mothers wedding.
_Hor._ Indeede my Lord, it followed hard vpon.