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O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw! But soft! but soft! aside:-Here comes the king.
Enter Priests, &c. in Procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA; LAERTES and Mourners following; KING, QUEEN, their Trains, &c.
The queen, the courtiers: Who is this they follow?
A very noble youth: Mark.
[Retiring with Horatio.
That is Laertes,
1 Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Laer. Must there no more be done?
No more be done!
We should profane the service of the dead,
Lay her i'the earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh,
May violets spring!-I tell thee, churlish priest,
What, the fair Ophelia!
Queen. Sweets to the sweet: Farewell!
[Scattering Flowers. I hop'd, thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife; I thought, thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid, And not have strew'd thy grave.
O, treble woe
[Leaps into the Grave.
Ham. [Advancing] What is he, whose grief Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand Like wonder-wounded hearers? this is I,
Hamlet the Dane.
[Leaps into the Grave.
[Grappling with kin.
The devil take thy soul!
Ham. Thou pray'st not well.
I pr'ythee, take thy fingers from my throat;
Which let thy wisdom fear: Hold off thy hand.
Good, my lord, be quiet.
[The Attendants part them, and they come out of the Grave.
Ham. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme, Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
Queen. Ŏ my son! what theme?"
Ham. I lov'd Ophelia; forty thousand brothers
Queen. For love of God, forbear him.
Ham. 'Zounds, show me what thou'll do: Woul't weep? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't tear thyself?
Woul't drink up Esil? eat a crocodile?
I'll do't.--Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
I'll rant as well as thou.
Nay, an thou’lt mouth,
This is mere madness:
And thus awhile the fit will work on him;
When that her golden couplets are disclos'd,
[Exit Horatio. Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech; [To Laertes.
We'll put the matter to the present push.
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be. [Exeunt.
SCENE 11. A Hall in the Castle.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO.
Ham. So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;
You do remember all the circumstance?
Hor. Remember it, my lord!
Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting, That would not let me sleep: methought, I lay Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly, And prais'd be rashness for it.—Let us know, Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us,
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Ham. Up from my cabin,
That is most certain.
My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,
Ham. Here's the commission; read it at more
But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?
Hor. Ay, 'beseech you.
Ham. Being thus benetted round with villanies,
A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much
Ay, good, my lord. Ham. An earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary;
As love between them, like the palm, might flourish; As should still her wheaten garland wear, peace
And stand a comma 'tween their amities;
And many such like as's of great charge,―
That, on the view and knowing of these contents,. Without debatement further, more or less,
He should the bearers put to sudden death,
How was this seal'd?
Which was the model of that Danish seal:
Subscrib'd it; gave't the impression; plac'd it safely, The changeling never known: Now, the next day Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent Thou know'st already.
Hor. So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't. Ham. Why, man, they did make love to this employment;
They are not near my conscience; their defeat
"Tis dangerous, when the baser nature comes
Why, what a king is this! Ham. Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon? He that hath kill'd my king, and whor'd my mother; Popp'd in between the election and my hopes; Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
And with such cozenage; is't not perfect conscience, To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd, To let this canker of our nature come
In further evil?
Hor. It must be shortly known to him from England,
What is the issue of the business there.
Ham. It will be short: the interim is mine;
And a man's life's no more than to say, one.
That to Laertes I forgot myself;
For by the image of my cause, I see
The portraiture of his: I'll count his favours:
Peace; who comes here?