Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person:
There's such divinity doth hedge a king,
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,
Why thou art thus incensed: let him go,
Speak, man.

Laer. Where is my father?

Gertrude:

But not by him.

King. Let him demand his fill.
Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!
Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!
I dare damnation: to this point I stand,
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged
Most throughly for my father.

King.

Laer. My will, not all the world:

King.

129

Who shall stay you?

And for my means, I'll husband them so well,
They shall go far with little.

Good Laertes,

If you desire to know the certainty

Of

140

your dear father's death, is 't writ in your revenge That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,

Winner and loser?

Laer. None but his enemies.

King.

Will you know them then?

Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms; And, like the kind life-rendering pelican,

Repast them with my blood.

King.

Why, now you speak

Like a good child and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am most sensibly in grief for it,
It shall as level to your judgement pierce

As day does to your eye.

Danes. [Within]

Let her come in.

Laer. How now! what noise is that?

Re-enter Ophelia.

150

O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!

O heavens! is 't possible a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine

It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

Oph. [Sings] They bore him barefaced on the bier:
Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny:

And in his grave rain'd many a tear,—

Fare you well, my dove!

160

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,

It could not move thus.

Oph. [Sings] You must sing down a-down,

An you call him a-down-a.

O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false
steward, that stole his master's daughter.

Laer. This nothing's more than matter.

Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance: pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

170

Ophe. "There's fennel for you, and columbines:-there's rue for you; and here's some for me: we may

call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they wither'd all when my father died: they say he made a good end."

Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Act. 4, Sc. 2.

Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and re

membrance fitted.

Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's 180 rue for you: and here's some for me: we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays: O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died: they say a' made a good end,

[Sings] For bonnie sweet Robin is all my joy. Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour and to prettiness.

Oph. [Sings] And will a' not come again?

And will a' not come again?

No, no, he is dead,

Go to thy death-bed,

He never will come again,

His beard was as white as snow,
All flaxen was his poll:

He is gone, he is gone,

And we cast away moan:

God ha' mercy on his soul!

And of all Christian souls, I pray God.

you.

Laer. Do you see this, O God?

190

God be wi'

[Exit. 200

King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief,

Or you deny me right. Go but apart,

Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will.
And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:
If by direct or by collateral hand

They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,