Laer. This nothing's more than matter. . Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, reineinber; and there's pansics, that's for thoughts. Laer. A document in madness, thoughts and re"membrance' fitted. Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines ; there's rue for you, and here's fome 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 withered all when my father died; they say he made a good end; " For bonriy fiveet Robin is all ny joy." " And will he not come again ? “ Gramercy on his soul!” . And of all Christian souls! God b'w'ge. [Exit Ophelia. Laer. Do you see this, you Gods? King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right: go but a-part, Make choice of whom your wiselt friends you will, And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me; If by direct or by collateral hand They find us touched, we will our kingdom give, Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours, . VOL. XII. M |