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the fashion, and so berattle the common lages, (so . they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goole-quills, and dare scarce come thither.
Ham. What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are they escorted? will they purlue the quality no longer than they can sing? will they not say afterwards, if they should grow themiclves to common players, (as it is moit like, if their means are no better :) their writers do them wrong to make them exclaim against their own lucccllion? . Rof. 'Faith, there has been much to do on both fides; and the nation holds it no sin to tarre then on to controversy. There was, for a while, no money bid for argument, unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.
Ham. Is't poffible ?
Guil. Oh, there has been much throwing about of brains.
Ham. Do the boys carry it away?
Rof. Ay, that they do, my Lord, Hercules and his load too.
Ham. It is not ftrange; for mine uncle is King of Denmark; and thoie, that would make nowes at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an hundred ducats a-piece, for his picture in little. There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
.. [Flourish for the Players. Guil. There are the players. . • Ham. Gentleinen, you are welcome to Ellincor;