And think it pastime. You fhall foon hear more.
I lov'd your father, and we love ourself,

And that I hope, will teach you to imagine.
How now? what news?

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Letters, my Lord, from Hamlet. 'Thefe to your Majefty: this to the Queen. King. From Hamlet? who brought them? Mej. Sailors, my Lord, they fay; I faw them not:. They were given me by Claudio, he receiv'd them. King. Laertes, you fhall hear them: leave us, all[Exit Mef.

H

Igh and Mighty, you shall know, I am fet naked on your Kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to fee your kingly eyes. When I ball, (first asking your `pardon thereunto,) recount the occafion of my fudden return.

Hamlet.

What fhould this mean? are all the reft come back? and no fuch thing?

Or is it fome abuse

Laer. Know you the hand?

King. 'Tis Hamlet's character;

Naked; and (in a poftfcript here, he fays)

Alone can you advise me?

Laer. I'm loft in it, my Lord: but let him come; It warms the very fickness in my heart,

That I fhall live and tell him to his teeth,

Thus diddeft thou.

King. If it be fo, Laertes, As how fhould it be fo?. Will you be rul❜d by me?

-how, otherwife ?

Laer. Ay, fo you'll not o'er-rule me to a peace. King. To thine own peace; if he be now return'd, As liking not his voyage, and that he means No more to undertake it; I will work him

To an exploit now ripe in my device,

Under the which he fhall not chufe but fall:

And for his death no wind of blame fhall breathe;

But

But ev'n his mother fhall uncharge the practice,
And call it accident.

Laer. I will be rul'd,

The rather, if you could devife it fo,
That I might be the organ.
King. It falls right :

You have been talkt of fince your travel much,
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
Wherein, they fay, you fhine; your fum of parts
Did not together pluck fuch envy from him,
As did that one, and that in my regard
Of the unworthieft fiege.

Laer. What part is that, my Lord?

King. A very feather in the cap of youth,
Yet needful too; for youth no lefs becomes
The light and carelefs livery that it wears,
Than fettled age his fables, and his weeds
Importing health and graveness.-Two months fince,
Here was a gentleman of Normandy;

I've seen myself, and ferv'd against the French,
And they can well on horse-back; but this Gallant
Had witchcraft in't, he grew unto his feat;
And to fuch wondrous doing brought his horfe,
As he had been incorps'd and demy-natur'd
With the brave beaft; fo far he topp'd my thought,
That I in forgery of shapes and tricks

Come fhort of what he did,

Laer. A Norman, was't?

King. A Norman.

Laer. Upon my life, Lamond.

King. The fame.

Laer. I know him well; he is the brooch, indeed, And gem of all the nation.

King. He made confeffion of you,

And gave you fuch a masterly report,
For art and exercise in your defence;
And for your rapier most efpecial,

That he cry'd out, 'twould be a fight indeed,

If one could match you. The fcrimers of their nation, He fwore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,

If you oppos'd 'em.-Sir, this report of his
Did Hamlet fo envenom with his envy,.
That he could nothing do, but with and beg;
Your fudden coming o'er to play with him..
Now out of this-

Laer. What out of this, my Lord ?

King. Laertes, was your father dear to you? Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,

A face without a heart?

Laer. Why alk you this?

King. Not that I think, you did not love your father, But that I know, love is begun by time;

And that I fee in paffages of proof,

Time qualifies the fpark and fire of it;
There lives within the very flame of love

A kind of wick, or fnuff, that will abate it,
And nothing is at a like goodnefs ftill;

For goodness, growing to a pleurify,

Dies in his own too much; what we would do,
We should do when we would; for this would changes,
And hath abatements and delays as mány

As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;
And then this should is like a fpend-thrift figh.
That hurts by eafing; but to th' quick o'th' ulcer-
Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake
To fhew yourself your father's fon indeed

More than in words?

Laer. To cut his throat i'th' church.

King. No place, indeed, fhould murder fanctuarife;
Revenge fhould have no bounds; but, good Laertes,
Will you do this? keep clofe within your chamber;
Hamlet, return'd, fhall know you are come home:
We'll put on thofe fhall praife your excellence,
And fet a double varnish on the fame

The Frenchman gave you; bring you in fine together;.
And wager on your heads. He being remifs,
Moft generous, and free from all contriving,
Will not perufe the foils; fo that with eafe,
Or with a little fhuffling, you may chufe
Afword unbated, and in a pafs of practice

Requite

And for the purpose I'll anoint my fword:
I bought an unction of a Mountebank,
So mortal, that but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood, no Cataplafm fo rare,
Collected from all Simples that have virtue

Under the moon, can fave the thing from death,
That is but fcratch'd withal; I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that if I gall him flightly,
It may be death.

King. Let's farther think of this;

Weigh, what convenience both of time and means
May fit us to our fhape. If this should. fail,

And that our drift look through our bad performance,
'Twere better not affay'd; therefore this project
Should have a back, or fecond, that might hold,
If this should blaft in proof.-Soft-let me fee-
We'll make a folemn wager on your cunnings;
I ha't-when in your motion you are hot,
(As make your bouts more violent to that end,)
And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepar'd him
A chalice for the nonce; whereon but fipping,
If he by chance efcape your venom'd tuck,,
Our purpofe may hold there.

Enter Queen..
How now, fweet Queen ?

Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So faft they follow your fifter's drown'd, Laertes.. Laer. Drown'd! oh where ?

Queen. There is a willow grows aflant a brook, That shews his hoar leaves in the glaffy ftream: There with fantaftick garlands did the come, Of crow-flowers, nettles, daifies, and long purples, (That liberal fhepherds give a groffer name; But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them ;) There on the pendant boughs, her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious fliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself

Fell

Fell in the weeping brook; her cloaths fpread wide,
And mermaid-like, a while they bore her up;
Which time fhe chaunted fnatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her own diftrefs;

Or like a creature native, and indued

Unto that element: but long it could not be,
'Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.

Laer. Alas then, fhe is drown'd!

Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

Laer. Too much of water haft thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet

It is our trick; Nature her cuftom holds,

Let Shame fay what it will; when these are gone,
The woman will be out: adieu, my Lord!

I have a fpeech of fire, that fain would blaze,
But that this folly drowns it.

How much had I to do to calm his rage!

[Exit.

King. Follow, Gertrude:

Now fear I, this will give it ftart again;

Therefore, let's follow.

[Exeunt.

F1951.6

A CT V.

SCENE, A CHURCH.

Enter two Clowns, with spades and mattocks,

I CLOWN.

S the to be buried in chriftian burial, that wilfully

I feeks her own falvation?

2 Clown. I tell thee, fhe is, therefore make her grave ftraight; the crowner hath fate on her, and finds it chriftian burial.

1 Clown