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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 bare-fac'd on the bier;
Hey no nonny, nonny hey nonny :

And on his

grave rain'd many a tear;

Fare you well, my dove!

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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.

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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.

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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 would give you some violets; but they wither'd all when my father died :-They say, he made a good end,~

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,

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Laer,

Laer. Thought, and affliction, passion, hell itself,

She turns to favour, and to prettiness,

Oph. And will he not come again?

And will he not come again?

No, no, he is dead,

"Go to thy death-bed,

He never will come again.

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And of all Christian souls! I pray God. God be

wi' you.

Laer. Do you see this, O God?

[Exit OPHELIA.

King. Laertes, I must common 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,
in satisfaction; but, if not,

To

you

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, por hatchment o'er his bones,

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No

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.

[Exeunt.

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SCENE VI.

Another Room. Enter HORATIO, with a Servant.

Hor. What are they, that would speak with me? Serv. Sailors, sir;

They say, they have letters for you.

Hor. Let them come in.

I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from lord Hamlet,

Enter Sailors.

Sail. God bless you, sir.

-Hor. Let him bless thee too.

Sail. He shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for you, sir: it comes from the embassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

Horatio reads the letter.

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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

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pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chace : Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded them: on the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me, like thieves of mercy; but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou would'st fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Guildenstern hold their course for England: of them Į have much to tell thee. Farewel.

Rosencrantz and

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He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet.

Come, I will make you way for these your letters;
And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

Another Room. Enter the King, and LAERTES.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance

And

you

seal,

must put me in your heart for friend; Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear, That he, which hath your noble father slain, Pursu'd my life.

Laer,

Laer. It well appears :-But tell me,

Why you proceeded not against these feats,
So crimeful and so capital in nature,

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1

As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else, You mainly were stirr'd up?

King. O, for two special reasons;

Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,

And yet to me they are strong. The queen, his mother,

Lives almost by his looks; and for myself

(My virtue, or my plague, be it either which),

She is so conjunctive to my life and soul,

That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, 500
I could not but by her. The other motive,

Why to a publick count I might not go,
Is, the

great love the general gender bear him:
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
Work, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,
Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,

Would have reverted to my bow again,
And not where I had aim'd them.

Laer. And so have I a noble father lost;

A sister driven into desperate terms;

Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
Stood challenger on mount of all the age

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For her perfections :-But my revenge will come. King. Break not your sleeps for that: you must not

think,

That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,

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