they got clear of our fhip; fo I alone became their prifoner. They have 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 have the letters I have fent; and repair thou to me with as much hafte as thou would't fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. Thefe good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rofencrantz and Guildenstern bold their courfe for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.

He that thou knowest thine,

HAMLET.

Come, I will make you way for these your letters;
And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Another Room.

Enter the King, and LAERTES.

King. Now muft your confcience my acquittance
feal,

And you must put me in your heart for friend;
Sith
you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he, which hath your noble father slain,
Purfu'd my life.

Laer. It well appears :-But tell me,
Why you proceeded not against these feats,
So crimeful and fo capital in nature,

As by your fafety, greatnefs, wifdom, all things elfe, You mainly were ftirred up?

King. O, for two fpecial reafons;

Which may to you, perhaps, feem much unfinew'd,

And

And yet to me they are ftrong. The queen, his mo
Lives almost by his looks; and for myself [ther,
(My virtue, or my plague, be it either which),
She is fo conjunctive to my life and foul,
That, as the star moves not but in his fphere,
I could not but by her. The other motive,
Why to a publick count I might not go,
Is, the great love the general gender bear him!
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
Work, like the fpring that turneth wood to stone,
Convert his gyves to graces; fo that my arrows,
Too flightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
Would have reverted to my bow again,
And not where I had aim'd them.

Laer. And fo have I a noble father loft;
A fifter driven into desperate terms;
Whose worth, if praifes may go back again,
Stood challenger on mount of all the age

For her perfections:-But my revenge will come. King. Break not your fleeps for that: you must not think,

That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,

That we can let our beard be shook with danger,
And think it pastime. You fhortly fhall hear more :
I lov'd your father, and we love ourself;

And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine
How now? what news?

Enter a Mejenger.

Mell. Letters, my lord, from Hamlet: This to your majefty; this to the queen. King. From Hamlet! Who brought them? Me. Sailors, my lord, they fay: I faw them not: They were given me by Claudio, he received them

Of

Of him that brought them.
King. Laertes, you shall hear them :-
Leave us.

[Exit Mef.

HIGH and mighty, you shall know, I am fet naked on your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to fee your kingly eyes: when I fhall, firfl afking your pardon thereunto, recount the occafion of my fudden and more strange return. HAMLET.

What should this mean? Are all the reft come back?
Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
Laer. Know you the hand?

King. 'Tis Hamlet's character. Naked-
And, in a poftfcript here, he fays, alone:
Can you advise me?

Laer. I am loft in it, my lord. But let him come; It warms the very fickness in my heart,

That I fhall live and tell him to his teeth,

Thus diddeft thou.

King. If it be fo, Laertes

As how fhould it be fo?-how otherwife?-
Will you be rul'd by me?

Laer. Ay, my lord;

So will not o'er-rule me to a peace.

you

King. To thine own peace. If he be now re

turn'd

As checking at his voyage, and that he means
No more to undertake it,-I will work him
To an exploit, now ripe in my device,

Under the which he fhall not choofe but fall :
And for his death no wind of blame fhall breathe;
But even his mother shall uncharge the practice,
And call it accident.

Laer. My lord, I will be rul'd;

The

The rather, if you could devife it so,
That I might be the organ.

King. It falls right.

You have been talk'd of fince your travel much,
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
Wherein, they fay, you fhine: your fum of parts
Did not together pluck fuch envy from him,
As did that one; and that, in my regard,
Of the unworthieft fiege.

Laer. What part is that, my lord?

King. A very ribband in the cap of youth, Yet needful too; for youth no lefs becomes The light and careless livery that it wears, Than fettled age his fables, and his weeds, Importing health, and gravenefs.-Two months Here was a gentleman of Normandy

[fince, I have seen myself, and ferv'd against the French, And they can well on horfeback: But this gallant Had witchcraft in't; he grew into his feat ; And to fuch wond'rous doings brought his horse, As he had been incorps'd and demy-natur'd With the brave beaft: fo far he topp'd my thought, That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,

Come fhort of what he did.

Laer. A Norman, was't?

King. A Norman.

Laer. Upon my life, Lamond.

King. The

very fame.

Laer. I know him well: he is the brooch, indeed, of all the nation.

And gem

King. He made confeffion of you; And gave you fuch a masterly report, For art and exercise in your defence, And for your rapier most especial

That

That he cried out, 'Twould be a fight indeed,
If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation,
He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you oppos'd them: Sir, this report of his
Did Hamlet fo envenom with his envy,
That he could nothing do but wish and beg
Your fudden coming o'er to play with him.
Now out of this,

Laer. What out of this, my lord?

King, Laertes, was your father dear to you?
Or are you like the painting of a forrow,
A face without a heart?

Laer. Why ask you this?
King. Not that I think

father;

you

did not love your

But that I know, love is begun by time ;
And that I fee, in paffages of proof,
Time qualifies the fpark and fire of it.
There lives within the very flame of love
A kind of wick, or fnuff, that will abate it ;
And nothing is at a like goodness ftill;
For goodnels, growing to a pleurify,

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,

As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents; And then this should is like a fpendthrift figh That hurts by eafing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer: Hamlet comes back; What would you undertake, To fhew yourself your father's fon in deed

More than in words?

Laer. To cut his throat i' the church.