By Gis, and by S. Charity;
Alack, and fie for shame,

Young men will do't, if they come to't,
By cock they are to blame.
Quoth fhe, before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to wed:

So would I ba' done, by yonder fun,
An thou badft not come to my bed.

King. How long hath the been thus?

Opb. I hope all will be well. We must be patient, but I cannot chufe but weep, to think they should lay him i'th' cold ground; my brother fhall know of it, and fo I thank you for your good counfel. Come, my coach; goodnight, Ladies; good-night, fweet Ladies; good-night, good-night.

[Exit. King. Follow her clofe, give her good watch, I pray you; This is the poifon of deep grief, it fprings

All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude!
When forrows come, they come not fingle fpies,
But in battalions. First, her father flain,
Next your fon gone, and he moft violent author
Of his own juft remove; the people muddied,
Thick and unwholfome in their thoughts and whifpers,
For good Polonius' death. We've done but greenly,
In private to interr him; poor Ophelia

Divided from her felf, and her fair judgment,

(Without the which we're pictures, or mere beafts:) ;
Laft, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in fecret come from France,
Feeds on his anger, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his. ear
With peftilent speeches of his father's death;
Whence animofity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our perfons to arraign
In ear and ear. 0 my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Gives me fuperfluous death.

A Noife within.
SCENE VI. Enter a Meffenger.
King. Where are my Switzers? let them guard the door.

What is the matter?

D

Mef. Save your felf, my Lord.
The ocean over-peering of his lift

Eats not the flats with more impetuous hafte,
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,
O'er-bears your officers; the rabble call him Lord,
And as the world were now but to begin,
(Antiquity forgot, custom not known)
They cry, chufe we Laertes for our King:
The ratifiers and props of every word

Caps, hands, and fhouts, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes fhall be King, Laertes King.

Queen. How chearfully on the falfe trail they ery!
Oh this is counter, you falfe Danish dogs."

Enter Laertes.

King. The doors are broke.

{Noife within,

Laer. Where is the King? Sirs! ftand you all without.

All. No, let's come in."

Laer. I pray you give me leave.'

All. We will, we will.

Laer. I thank you; keep the door.

O thou vile King, give me my father.
Queen. Calmly, good Laertes.

Laer. That drop of blood that's calm, proclaims me bafCrys cuckold to my father, brands the harlot

Even here between the chafte and unfmirch'd brow

King What is the caufe, Laertès,

That thy rebellion looks fo giant-like?
Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our perfon:
There's fuch divinity doth hedge a King,
That treafon can but peep to what it would,
Act little of its will. Tell me, Laertes,

Why are you thus incens'd? Let him go, Gertrude.
Speak, man.

Laer. Where is my father?

King. Dead.

Queen. But not by him.

King. Let him demand his fill.

[tard,

Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with.

To hell, allegiance! vows, to the black devil!

Confcience

Confcience and grace, to the profoundest pit!
I dare damnation; to this point I ftand,
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd
Moft throughly for my father.

King. Who fhall stay you?

Laer. My will, not all the world's.
And for my means, I'll hufband them fo well,
They fhall go far with, little,

If

King. Good Laertes,

you defire to know the certainty.

Of dear father's death, in your revenge

your

(That fweep-ftake) will you draw both friend and foe, Winner and lofer ?

Laer. None but his enemies.

King. Will you know them then?

Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms, And like the kind life-rend'ring pelican,

Repaft them with my blood.

King. Why, now you speak

Like a good child, and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am moft fenfibly in grief for it,

It fhall as level to your judgment pierce,

As day does to your eye. [A Noife within, Let her come in Laer. How now? what noife is that?

SCENE VII.

Enter Ophelia fantastically dreft with ftraws and flowers.
O heat, dry up my brains! tears feven times falt,
Burn out the fenfe and virtue of mine eye!
By heav'n, thy madnefs fhall be paid with weight,
"Till our scale turn the beam. O rofe of May!
Dear maid, kind fifter, fweet Ophelia !

O heav'ns, is't poffible a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,
It fends fome precious inftance of it felf
After the thing it loves.

Oph. They bore bim bare-fac'd on the bier, sere? And on his grave rains many a tear;

Fare you well, my

dove!

Laer. Hadft thou thy wits, and didft perfwade revenge, It could not move thus.

Opb. You must fing, down a-down, and you call him a-down-a. O how the wheel becomes it! it is the falle fteward that ftole his master's daughter.

Lacr. This nothing's more than matter.

Opb. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there's pancies, that's for thoughts. Laer. A document in madnefs, thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Opb. 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 dafie; I would give you fome violets, but they withered all when my father dy'd; they fay, he made a good end;

For bonny fweet Robin is all my joy.

Laer. Thought, and affliction, paffion, hell it felf, She turns to favour, and to prettiness.

Oph. And will be not come again?

And will be not come again?

No, no, be is dead, go to thy death-bed, and

He never will come again.

His beard as white as snow,

All flaxen was his poll:

He is gone, be is gone, and we caft away moan,

Gramercy on bis foul!

And of all chriftian fouls! God b'w'ye.

Laer. Do you fee this, you Gods?

[Exit Ophelia,

King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief,

Or you deny me right; go but a-part,

Make choice of whom your wifeft friends you will,
And they fhall 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

To you in fatisfaction. But if not,

Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your foul,
To give it due content.

Laer. Let this be fo.

His means of death, his obfcure funeral,
No trophy fword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,
No noble rite, nor formal oftentation,

Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heav'n to earth
That I must call't in queftion.

King. So you fhall:

And where th' offence is, let the great ax fall.
I pray you go with me.

SCENE VIII.

Enter Horatio, with an Attendant.

Hor. What are they that would fpeak with me?

[Exeunt

Ser. Sailors, Sir; they fay they have letters for you.

Hor. Let them come in.

I do not know from what part of the world

I fhould be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet,

[Exit Sen.

Sail. He fhall, Sir, an't pleafe him. There's a letter for you, Sir: It comes from th' Ambaffador that was bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

Horatio reads the letter.

Horatio, when thou shalt have over-look'd this, give thefe fellows fome means to the King: they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at fea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chace. Finding our felves too flow of fail, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded them on the inftant they got clear of our foip, fo I alone became their prifoner. They bave 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 bave the letters I have fent, and repair thou to me with as much bafte as thou wouldest Ay death. I bave words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb, yet are they much too light for the matter.

These good fellows