« AnteriorContinuar »
Unto young Hamlet : for, upon my life,
Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know Where we shall find him most convenient. [Ereunt.
SCENE II.-The same. A Room of State in the same.
Enter the King, Queen, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES,
VOLTIMAND, CORNELIU, Lords, and Attendants.
King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green; and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe; Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature, That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress of this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,With one auspicious, and one dropping eye; With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along :-For all, our thanks.
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,Holding a weak supposal of our worth; Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death, Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
duty. King. We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell.
[Exeunt Vol. and Cor. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; What is't, Laertes ? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And lose your voice: What would'st thou beg, Laertes, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the mouth, Than is the throne of Denınark to thy father. What would'st thou have, Laertes ?
Laer. My dread lord, Your leave and favour to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, To show my duty in your coronation; Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. King. Have you your father's leave? What says Po
lonius? Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow
King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
Ham. A little more than kin, and less than kind.
King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i'the sun.
Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. . Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust : Thou know'st, ’lis common; all, that live, must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen. If it be,
Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
We pray you, throw to earth
You are the most immediate to our throne;
Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet; I pray thee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
King. Why, ʼtis a loving and a fair reply;
[Exeunt King, Queen, Lurds, &c. Polonius, and
LAERTES. llam. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! ( God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fye on't! O fye! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature, Possess it merely. That it should come to this ! But two months dead !--nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this,