kingly eyes; when I shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden and more strange return.
HAMLET.' What should this mean? Are all the rest come back? Or is it some abuse, and no such thing? auption.
Laertes. Know you the hand?
'Tis Hamlet's character. 'Naked! handwriti
And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'
Laertes. I'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come,
It warms the very sickness in my heart,
That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,
As how should it be so? how otherwise?—
you will not o'errule me to a peace.
King. To thine own peace. If he be now return'd, 60 As checking at his voyage, and that he means No more to undertake it, I will work him weite fen scheme To an exploit now ripe in my device, Se Under the which he shall not choose but fall; And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe, But even his mother shall uncharge the practice And call it accident.
The rather, if you could devise it so
My lord, I will be rul'd;
That I might be the organ.
You have been talk'd of since your travel much,
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality accomplishment. Wherein, they say, you shine; your sum of parts the s
Did not together pluck such envy from him As did that one, and that, in my regard,
Of the unworthiest siege.
What part is that, my lord?
King. A very riband in the cap of youth, Yet needful too; for youth no less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears Than settled age his sables and his weeds, Importing health and graveness. Two months since, Here was a gentleman of Normandy :-
I've seen myself, and serv'd against, the French,
And they can well on horseback; but this gallant elfos for cance Had witchcraft in 't: he grew into his seat,
And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,
in As he had been incorps'd and demi-natur'd
With the brave beast. So far he topp'd my thought
invention That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,
That he cried out, 't would be a sight indeed,
If one could match you; the scrimers of their nation, fees, He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you oppos'd them. Sir, this report of his Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy That he could nothing do but wish and beg Your sudden coming o'er, to play with him. Now, out of this—
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?
King. Not that I think you did not love your father; But that I know love is begun by time, And that I see, in passages of proof, ference & Time qualifies the spark and fire of it. There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it; And nothing is at a like goodness still, For goodness, growing to a plurisy, plus, are excess, Dies in his own too-much. That we would do,
We should do when we would; for this 'would' changes And hath abatements and delays as many
and, event, bes respectively the old notion was
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents; And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh, That hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer: Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake, To show yourself your father's son in deed More than in words?
that wrig list a arp from the heart.
follwood but it
To cut his throat i' the church.
King. No place, indeed, should murther sanctuarize; mundu shoul
Revenge should have no bounds. Will you do this, keep close within your chamber. Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home : We'll put on those shall praise your excellence And set a double varnish on the fame The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, together And wager on your heads. He, being remiss, Careless Most generous and free from all contriving, Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease Or with a little shuffling, you may choose A sword unbated, and in a pass of practice Requite him for
a fellows that selles medicines
And, for that purpose, I 'll anoint my sword. I bought an unction of a mountebank, So mortal that, but dip a knife in it, Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, plaster, foultice Collected from all simples that have virtue, medicives. "Are Under the moon, can save the thing from death That is but scratch'd withal; I'll touch my point With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly, It may be death. King.
the unition that eaures
Let's further think of this;
Weigh what convenience both of time and means
as the ingredients
the confound
have shaped intention orged
May fit us to our shape. If this should fail, the method that we And that our drift look through our bad performance, 'T were better not assay'd; therefore this project Should have a back or second, that might hold If this should blast in proof. Soft!-let me see :— :- burst, like a We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings, Lamon, in testing respective striels
When in your motion you are hot and dry— 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 sipping, occasion If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck, Our purpose may hold there.—
Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow. -Your sister 's drown'd, Laertes. Laertes. Drown'd! O, where?
Queen. There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them : 170 There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke, When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide, And, mermaid-like, a while they bore her up; Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and indued in tothe dement frenished with the properties in 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.
Alas, then, is she drown'd?
Laertes. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, This is And therefore I forbid my tears.
It is our trick; nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will: when these are gone, hat crice. The woman will be out.—Adieu, my lord ; I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,
But that this folly douts it.
King. How much I had to do to calm his rage! Now fear I this will give it start again; Therefore let 's follow.
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