Enter Messenger.

Mef. Letters, my lord, from Hamlet.
Thefe to your Majefty: this to the Queen.
King. From Hamlet? who brought them?

Mef. Sailors, my lord, they fay; I faw them not: They were given me by Claudio, he receiv'd them. King. Laertes, you fhall hear them: leave us, all[Exit Mef.

HI IGH and Mighty, you shall know, I am setnaked on your Kingdom. To-morrow fhall I beg leave to fee your kingly eyes. When I fhall, first asking your pardon thereunto,) recount th' occafion of my fudden return.

Hamlet.

What should this mean? are all the rest come back? Or is it fome abufe-and no fuch thing?

Laer. Know you the hand?

King. 'Tis Hamlet's character;
Naked, and (in a poftfcript here, he says)

Alone: can you advise me?

Laer. I'm 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 should it be fo?-how, otherwife?
Will you be rul'd by me?

Laer. I, fo you'll not o'er-rule me to a peace.
King. To thine own peace: if he be now return'd,
As liking not 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 shall not chufe but fall:

And for his death no wind of Blame shall breathe; But ev'n his mother fhall uncharge the practice, And call it accident.

Laer.

Laer. I will be rul'd,

The rather, if you could devise it so,

That I might be the organ.

King. It falls right :

You have been talkt 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 feather 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 wealth and gravenefs. Two months fince,

Here was a gentleman of Normandy;

I've seen myself, and ferv'd against the French,

. And they can well on horfe-back; but this Gallant

Had witchcraft in't, he grew unto his feat;

And to fuch wondrous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorps'd and demy-natur'd
With the brave beaft; fo far he top'd my thought,
That I in forgery of fhapes and tricks

Come fhort of what he did.

Laer. A Norman, was't?

King. A Norman.

Laer. Upon my life, Lamond.

King. The fame.

Laer. I know him well; he is the brooch, indeed, And gem of all the nation.

King. He made confeffion of you,

And gave you fuch a masterly report,
For art and exercise in your defence;

Importing health and graveness.] Shakespear wrote,
Importing Wealth and graveness--

i.. that the Wearers are Rich Burgers and Magiftrates.

And

And for your rapier most especial,

That he cry'd out, 'twould be a Sight indeed, [tion,
If one could match you. The Scrimers of their na-
He fwore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you oppos'd 'em-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 afk you this?

[father,

King. Not that I think, 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 still ;
For goodness growing to a pleurify,

Dies in his own too much; what 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 fhould is like a fpend-thrift's fign
That hurts by eafing; but to th' quick o' th' ulcer-
Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake
To fhew yourself your father's Son indeed

More than in words?

Laer. To cut his throat i' th' church.

King. No place indeed, fhould murder fanctuarife; Revenge fhould have no bounds; but, good Laertes, Will you do this? keep clofe within your chamber; Hamlet, return'd, fhall know you are come home : We'll put on thofe fhall praife your excellence, And fet a double varnish on the fame

The

The Frenchman gave you; bring you in fine together,
And wager on your heads. He being remifs,
Moft generous, and-free from all contriving,
Will not peruse the foils; fo that with eafe,
Or with a little fhuffling, you may chufe
A fword unbated, and in a pass of practice
Requite him for your father.

Laer. I will do't;

And for the purpose I'll anoint my fword:
I bought an unction of a Mountebank,
So mortal, that but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood, no Cataplafm fo rare,
Collected from all Simples that have virtue
Under the Moon, can fave the thing from death,
That is but fcratch'd withal; I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

King. Let's farther think of this;

Weigh, what convenience both of time and means
May fit us, to our fhape. If this fhould fail, [ance,
And that our drift look through our bad perform-
'Twere better not affay'd; therefore this project
Should have a back, or fecond, that might hold,
If this fhould blaft in proof. Soft-let me fee-
We'll make a folemn wager on your cunnings;
I ha't—when in your motion you are hot,
(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 fipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd tuck,
Our purpose may hold there.

SCENE X.

Enter Queen.

How now, sweet Queen?

Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So faft they follow: your fifter's drown'd, Laertes.

Laer.

Laer. Drown'd! oh where?

Queen. There is a willow grows allant a Brook, That fhews his hoar leaves in the glaffy ftream There with fantastic garlands did she come,

Of crow-flowers, nettles, daifies, and long purples,
(That liberal fhepherds give a groffer name to;
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them ;)
There on the pendant boughs, her coronet weeds
Clambring to hang, an envious fliver broke ;
When down her weedy trophies and herself,
Fell in the weeping brook; her clothes fpread wide,
And mermaid-like, a while they bore her up;
Which time fhe chaunted fnatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her own distress;
Or like a creature native, and indued

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.

Lear. Alas then, she is drown'd!

Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

Laer. Too much of water haft thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet

It is our trick; Nature her cuftom holds,

Let Shame fay what it will; when these are gone,
The woman will be out: adieu, my lord!

I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,
But that this folly drowns it.

King. Follow, Gertrude:

How much had I to do to calm his rage!

Now fear I, this will give it ftart again;

Therefore, let's follow.

[Exit.

Exeunt.

ACT