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.1-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 bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.' [sings.

Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell it

1i. e. by its Sunday name, herb of grace; while mine re

tains the name of rue, i. e. sorrow.

'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 be wi'

you!

Laer. Do you see this, O God?

[Exit Ophelia.

King. Laertes, I must commune1 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,

Το

you in satisfaction; but, if not,

Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labor 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;

1 Participate.

And, where the offence is. let the great axe fall.

Ꭵ

pray you, go with me.

[Exeunt

SCENE VJ.

Another room in the same.

Enter HORATIO and SERVANT.

Ho. What are they that would speak with me?

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

Ho. Let him bless thee too.

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

Ho. [reads.] Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked 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 very warlike appointment gave us chase: finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valor, 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 wouldst 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. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.

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

[Exeunt.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,

And

you must put me in your heart for friend; Sith 1 you have heard, and with a knowing ear, That he, which hath your noble father slain, Pursued my life.

Laer.

It well appears.—But tell me,

1 Since.

་

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

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,
But 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,
I could not but by her. The other motive,
Why to a public count I might not go,

Is the great love the general gender1 bear him;
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
Work like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
Convert his gyves 2 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,3
Stood challenger on mount of all the age

For her perfections !-But my revenge will come.

1 Common people.

2 Fetters.

3 i. e. if I may praise what has been, but is now to be found

no more