Shakespeare's First Folio Part 589

Ophe. And will he not come againe, And will he not come againe: No, no, he is dead, go to thy Death-bed, He neuer wil come againe.

His Beard as white as Snow, All Flaxen was his Pole: He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone, Gramercy on his Soule.

And of all Christian Soules, I pray G.o.d.

G.o.d buy ye.

Exeunt. Ophelia

Laer. Do you see this, you G.o.ds?

King. Laertes, I must common with your greefe, Or you deny me right: go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest Friends you will, And they shall heare and iudge 'twixt you and me; If by direct or by Colaterall hand They finde vs touch'd, we will our Kingdome giue, Our Crowne, our Life, and all that we call Ours To you in satisfaction. But if not, Be you content to lend your patience to vs, And we shall ioyntly labour with your soule To giue it due content

Laer. Let this be so: His meanes of death, his obscure buriall; No Trophee, Sword, nor Hatchment o're his bones, No n.o.ble rite, nor formall ostentation, Cry to be heard, as 'twere from Heauen to Earth, That I must call in question

King. So you shall: And where th' offence is, let the great Axe fall.

I pray you go with me.

Exeunt.

Enter Horatio, with an Attendant.

Hora. What are they that would speake with me?

Ser. Saylors sir, they say they haue Letters for you

Hor. Let them come in, I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.

Enter Saylor.

Say. G.o.d blesse you Sir

Hor. Let him blesse thee too

Say. Hee shall Sir, and't please him. There's a Letter for you Sir: It comes from th' Amba.s.sadours that was bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

Reads the Letter.

Horatio, When thou shalt haue ouerlook'd this, giue these Fellowes some meanes to the King: They haue Letters for him. Ere we were two dayes old at Sea, a Pyrate of very Warlicke appointment gaue vs Chace. Finding our selues too slow of Saile, we put on a compelled Valour. In the Grapple, I boorded them: On the instant they got cleare of our s.h.i.+ppe, so I alone became their Prisoner. They haue dealt with mee, like Theeues of Mercy, but they knew what they did. I am to doe a good turne for them. Let the King haue the Letters I haue sent, and repaire thou to me with as much hast as thou wouldest flye death. I haue words to speake in your eare, will make thee dumbe, yet are they much too light for the bore of the Matter.

These good Fellowes will bring thee where I am. Rosincrance and Guildensterne, hold their course for England. Of them I haue much to tell thee, Farewell.

He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet.

Come, I will giue you way for these your Letters, And do't the speedier, that you may direct me To him from whom you brought them.

Enter.

Enter King and Laertes.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal, And you must put me in your heart for Friend, Sith you haue heard, and with a knowing eare, That he which hath your n.o.ble Father slaine, Pursued my life

Laer. It well appeares. But tell me, Why you proceeded not against these feates, So crimefull, and so Capitall in Nature, As by your Safety, Wisedome, all things else, You mainly were stirr'd vp?

King. O for two speciall Reasons, Which may to you (perhaps) seeme much vnsinnowed, And yet to me they are strong. The Queen his Mother, Liues almost by his lookes: and for my selfe, My Vertue or my Plague, be it either which, She's so coniunctiue to my life, and soule; That as the Starre moues not but in his Sphere, I could not but by her. The other Motiue, Why to a publike count I might not go, Is the great loue the generall gender beare him, Who dipping all his Faults in their affection, Would like the Spring that turneth Wood to Stone, Conuert his Gyues to Graces. So that my Arrowes Too slightly timbred for so loud a Winde, Would haue reuerted to my Bow againe, And not where I had arm'd them

Laer. And so haue I a n.o.ble Father lost, A Sister driuen into desperate tearmes, Who was (if praises may go backe againe) Stood Challenger on mount of all the Age For her perfections. But my reuenge will come

King. Breake not your sleepes for that, You must not thinke That we are made of stuffe, so flat, and dull, That we can let our Beard be shooke with danger, And thinke it pastime. You shortly shall heare more, I lou'd your Father, and we loue our Selfe, And that I hope will teach you to imagine- Enter a Messenger.

How now? What Newes?

Mes. Letters my Lord from Hamlet, This to your Maiesty: this to the Queene

King. From Hamlet? Who brought them?

Mes. Saylors my Lord they say, I saw them not: They were giuen me by Claudio, he receiu'd them

King. Laertes you shall heare them: Leaue vs.

Exit Messenger

High and Mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your Kingdome. To morrow shall I begge leaue to see your Kingly Eyes. When I shall (first asking your Pardon thereunto) recount th' Occasions of my sodaine, and more strange returne.

Hamlet.

What should this meane? Are all the rest come backe?

Or is it some abuse? Or no such thing?

Laer. Know you the hand?

Kin. 'Tis Hamlets Character, naked and in a Postscript here he sayes alone: Can you aduise me?

Laer. I'm lost in it my Lord; but let him come, It warmes the very sicknesse in my heart, That I shall liue and tell him to his teeth; Thus diddest thou

Kin. If it be so Laertes, as how should it be so: How otherwise will you be rul'd by me?

Laer. If so you'l not o'rerule me to a peace

Kin. To thine owne peace: if he be now return'd, As checking at his Voyage, and that he meanes No more to vndertake it; I will worke him To an exployt now ripe in my Deuice, Vnder the which he shall not choose but fall; And for his death no winde of blame shall breath, But euen his Mother shall vncharge the practice, And call it accident: Some two Monthes hence Here was a Gentleman of Normandy, I'ue seene my selfe, and seru'd against the French, And they ran well on Horsebacke; but this Gallant Had witchcraft in't; he grew into his Seat, And to such wondrous doing brought his Horse, As had he beene encorps't and demy-Natur'd With the braue Beast, so farre he past my thought, That I in forgery of shapes and trickes, Come short of what he did

Laer. A Norman was't?

Kin. A Norman

Laer. Vpon my life Lamound

Kin. The very same

Laer. I know him well, he is the Brooch indeed, And Iemme of all our Nation

Kin. Hee mad confession of you, And gaue you such a Masterly report, For Art and exercise in your defence; And for your Rapier most especiall, That he cryed out, t'would be a sight indeed, If one could match you Sir. This report of his Did Hamlet so envenom with his Enuy, That he could nothing doe but wish and begge, Your sodaine comming ore to play with him; Now out of this

Laer. Why out of this, my Lord?

Kin. Laertes was your Father deare to you?

Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart?

Laer. Why aske you this?

Kin. Not that I thinke you did not loue your Father, But that I know Loue is begun by Time: And that I see in pa.s.sages of proofe, Time qualifies the sparke and fire of it: Hamlet comes backe: what would you vndertake, To show your selfe your Fathers sonne indeed, More then in words?

Laer. To cut his throat i'th' Church

Kin. No place indeed should murder Sancturize; Reuenge should haue no bounds: but good Laertes Will you doe this, keepe close within your Chamber, Hamlet return'd, shall know you are come home: Wee'l put on those shall praise your excellence, And set a double varnish on the fame The Frenchman gaue you, bring you in fine together, And wager on your heads, he being remisse, Most generous, and free from all contriuing, Will not peruse the Foiles? So that with ease, Or with a little shuffling, you may choose A Sword vnbaited, and in a pa.s.se of practice, Requit him for your Father

Laer. I will doo't.

And for that purpose Ile annoint my Sword: I bought an Vnction of a Mountebanke So mortall, I but dipt a knife in it, Where it drawes blood, no Cataplasme so rare, Collected from all Simples that haue Vertue Vnder the Moone, can saue the thing from death, That is but scratcht withall: Ile touch my point, With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly, It may be death

Kin. Let's further thinke of this, Weigh what conuenience both of time and meanes May fit vs to our shape, if this should faile; And that our drift looke through our bad performance, 'Twere better not a.s.said; therefore this Proiect Should haue a backe or second, that might hold, If this should blast in proofe: Soft, let me see Wee'l make a solemne wager on your commings, I ha't: when in your motion you are hot and dry, As make your bowts more violent to the end, And that he cals for drinke; Ile haue prepar'd him A Challice for the nonce; whereon but sipping, If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck, Our purpose may hold there; how sweet Queene.

Enter Queene.