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King. Conceit upon her father,
Oph. 'Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you, what it means, say you this:
Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
To be your Valentine :
And dupp'd the chamber door ;
Never departed more.
Alack, and fye for shame!
By cock, they are to blame.
An thou hadst not come to my bed.
Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him i’the cold ground: My brother sball know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies ; good night, sweet ladies: good nigbt, good night.
[Erit. King. Follow her close! give her good watch, pray you.
[Erit HORATIO. 0! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's deatb : And now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude, When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions! First, her father slain; Next, your son gone; and he most violent author Of his own just remove: The people muddied, Thick and unwholesome in their ihoughts and
whispers, For good Polonius' death ; and we have done
In hugger-mugger to inter him: Poor Ophelia Divided from berself, and her fair judgment; Without the which we are pictures, or mere
beasts. Last, and as much containing as all these, Her brother is in secret come from France : Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds, And wants not buzzers to infect his ear With pestilent speeches of his father's death; Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd, Will nothing stick our person to arraign In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this, Like to a murdering piece, in many places Gives me superfluous death! (A noise within. Queen.
Alack! what noise is this?
Enter a Gentleman. King. Attend. Where are my Switzers ? Let them guard the
door: What is the matter? Gent,
Save yourself, my lord; The ocean, overpeering of his list, Eats not the fats with more impetuous haste, Than young Laertes, in a riotous head, O'erbears your officers! Therabble call him lord; And, as the world were now but to begin, Antiquity forgot, custom not known, The ratifiers and props of every word, They cry, Choose we ; Laertes shall be king! Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the
clouds, Laertes shall be king, Laertes king! [cry!
Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they 0, this is counter, you false Danish dogs. King. The doors are broke. [Noise within.
Enter LAERTES, armed ; Danes following. Laer. Where is this king?-Sirs, stand you all
witbont. Dan. No, let's come in. Laer.
I pray you, give me leave. Dan. We will, we will.
[They retire without the door. Laer. I thank you :-keep the door.-0 thou
vile king, Give me my father.
Calmly, good Laertes. Laer. That drop of blood, that's calm, pro
claims me bastard; Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow Of my true mother. King.
Wbat is the cause, Laertes,
But not by him. King. Let him demand his fill. Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled
Who shall stay you?
Good Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty of your dear father's death, is 't writ in your
revenge, That, sweepstake, you will draw both friend
and foe, Winner and loser?
Laer. None but his enemies.
Will you know them then? Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope
Why, now you speak Like a good child, and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
Let her come in.
and Flowers. O heat,dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye! By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with
weight, Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May! Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia ! O heavens! is 't possible, a young maid's wits Should be as mortal as an old man's life? Nature is fine in love; and, where 'tis fine, It sends some precious instance of itself After the thing it loves. Oph. They bore him barefac'd on the bier ;
Hey no nonny, nonny hey nonny :
And in his grave rain'd many a tear, Fare you well, my dove! Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade
revenge, It could not move thus.
Oph. You must sing, Down-a-down, an you call him a-down-a. 0, how the wheel becomes it! it is the false steward, that stole his master's daughter.
Laer. This nothing's more than matter.
Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; 'pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted.
Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines: -there's rue for you; and here's some for me: -we may call it, herb of grace o' Sundays :you may wear your rue with a difference.There's a daisy ;- I wonld give you some violets; but they witbered all, when my father died :They say, he made a good end, For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,
Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell
itself, She turns to favour and to prettiness. Oph. And will he not come again [Sings.
And will he not come again?
No, no, he is dead,
He is gone, he is gone,
God’a mercy on his soul! And of all christian souls! I pray God. God be wi' you!
[Exit OPHELIA. Laer. Do you see this? O God! [grief,
King, Laertes, I must commune with your Or you deny me right. Go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,
[me: And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and Jf by direct or by collateral hand They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give, Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours, To you in satisfaction; but, if not Be you content to lend your patience to us, And we shall jointly labour with your soul To give it due content. Laer.
Let this be so; His means of death, his obscure funeral,No trophy, sword, nor hatchment,o'er his bones, No noble rite, nor formal ostentation, Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth, That I must call’t in question. King.
So you shall; And where the offence is, let the great axe fall. I pray you, go with me.
(Ereunt. SCENE VI. Another Room in the same.
Enter HORATIO and a Servant. Hor. What are they that would speak with me?
Sailors, sir; They say, they have letters for you. Hor.
Let them come in.