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To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put
your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty. Guil.
But we both obey; And here give up ourselves, in the full bent, To lay our service freely at your feet, To be commanded. King. Thanks, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guil
denstern. Queen. Thanks, Guildenstern, and gentle Rosen
crantz: And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed son.—Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. Guil. Heavens make our presence, and our prac
tices, Pleasant and helpful to him! Queen.
Ay, amen! [E.reunt Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and some
Enter Polonius. Pol. The embassadors from Norway, my good
lord, Are joyfully return'd.
King. Thou still hast been the father of good
Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good
King. O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.
Pol. Give first admittance to the embassadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.
[Exit Polonius. He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found The head and source of all your son's distemper.
Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main; His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.
Re-enter Polonius, with Voltimand and Cornelius. King. Well, we shall sift him.—Welcome, my
good friends! Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of greetings, and desires. Upon our first, he sent out to suppress His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd To be a preparation ’gainst the Polack; But, better look'd into, he truly found It was against your highness: Whereat griev'd, That so his sickness, age, and impotence, Was falsely borne in hand, -sends out arrests
On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;
[Gives a paper.
It likes us well;
your well-took labour: Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: Most welcome home!
[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius. Pol.
This business is well ended. My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. Therefore,-since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,I will be brief: Your noble son is mad: Mad call I it: for, to define true madness, What is't, but to be nothing else but mad: But let that go.
Queen. More matter, with less art.
Pol. Madam, I swear, I use no art at all.
In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.-
Doubt thou, the stars are fire;
Doubt, that the sun doth move:
But never doubt, I love.
O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans: but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this
machine is to him, Hamlet.
This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me:
But how hath she
What do you think of me?
But what might you think, When I had seen this hot love on the wing, (As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that, Before my daughter told me,) what might you, Or
my dear majesty your queen here, think, If I had play'd the desk, or table-book; Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb; Or look’d upon this love with idle sight; What might you think? no, I went round to
work, And my young mistress thus did I bespeak; Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere; This must not be: and then I precepts gave her, That she should lock herself from his resort, Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; And he, repulsed, (a short tale to make,) Fell into a sadness; then into a fast; Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness; Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension, Into the madness wherein now he raves, And all we mourn for. King.
Do you think, 'tis this?