Laer. Where is this king?- Sirs, staid you all without. All. No, let's come in! Laer. I pray you give me leave. All. We will, we will! Laer. I thank you. Keep the door.[Exeunt his Followers.] O thou vile king, Give me my father! Queen. Calmly, good Laertes. Laer. That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard; Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot Even here between the chaste unsmirched brows Of my true mother. King. What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giantlike? Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person. There's such divinity doth hedge a king That treason can but peep to what it would, Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes, Why thou art thus incens'd. Let him go, Gertrude. Speak, man. Laer. Where is my father? King. Dead. Queen. But not by him! King. Let him demand his fill. Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand, That both the world, I give to negligence, Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd Most throughly for my father. King. Who shall stay you? Laer. My will, not all the world! And for my means, I'll husband them so well They shall go far with little. King. 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. King. Will you know them then? Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican, Repast them with my blood. King. Why, now You speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your father's death, And am most sensibly in grief for it, It shall as level to your judgment pierce As day does to your eye. A noise within: 'Let her come in.' Laer. How now? What noise is that?
Enter Ophelia.
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 by 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. (sings)They bore him barefac'd on the bier(Hey non nony, nony, hey nony)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 'A-down a-down, and you call him a-down-a.' O, 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. O, you must wear your rue with a difference! There's a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they wither'd all when my father died. They say he made a good end.
[Sings] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour and to prettiness. Oph. (sings)And will he not come again?And will he not come again?No, no, he is dead;Go to thy deathbed;He never will come again.
His beard was as white as snow,All flaxen was his poll.He is gone, he is gone,And we cast away moan.God 'a'mercy on his soul!
And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God b' wi' you. Exit. Laer. Do you see this, O God? King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right. Go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me. If 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 th' offence is let the great axe fall. I pray you go with me. Exeunt
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SCENE VI. Elsinore. Another room in the Castle.
Enter Horatio with an Attendant.
Hor. What are they that would speak with me? Servant. Seafaring men, sir. They say they have letters for you. Hor. Let them come in.[Exit Attendant.] I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
Enter Sailors.
Sailor. God bless you, sir. Hor. Let him bless thee too. Sailor. 'A shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for you, sir,- it comes from th' ambassador that was bound for England- if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is. Hor. (reads the letter) 'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlook'd this, give these fellows some means to the King. They have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of
