Ham.
Now might I do it pat, now he is praying,
And now I'll do't—and so he goes to heav'n,
And so am I reveng'd? that would be scann'd,—
A villain kills my father, and for that
I, his sole son, do this same villain send
To heav'n—O this is ^{p note}hire and sallery, not revenge.
He took my father grosly, full of bread,
With all his crimes broad blown, as ^{q note}flush as May;
And how his audit stands, who knows, save heav'n?
But in our circumstance and course of thought,

'Tis heavy with him. Am I then reveng'd,
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and season'd for his passage?
Up sword, and know thou a more horrid ^{r note}time:
When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage,
Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed,
At gaming, swearing, or about some act
That has no relish of salvation in't,
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heav'n,
And that his soul may be as damn'd and black
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays;
This physick but prolongs thy sickly days. [Exit.

King.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;
Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. [Exit.

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