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Too slightly timber'd for so loud a Wind,
Would have reverted to my Bow again,
And not where I had arm'd them.

Laer. And so have I a Noble Father lost,
A Sister driven into desperate terms,
Who was (if praises may go back again)
Stood Challenger on mount of all the Age
For her perfections. But my revenge will come.
King. Break not your sleeps 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 shortly shall hear more,
I lov'd your Father, and we love our Self,
And that I hope will teach you to imagine

Enter a Messenger.

How now? What News?

Mes. Letters my Lord from Hamlet. This to your Majesty: this to the Queen.

King. From Hamlet? Who brought them?

Mes. Sailors my Lord they say, I saw them not : They were given me by Claudio, he receiv'd them. King. Laertes you shall hear them :

Leave us.

Exit Messenger.

High and Mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your Kingdom. To morrow shall I beg leave to see your Kingly Eyes. When I shall (first asking your Pardon thereunto) recount th' Occasions of my sudden, and more strange return.

What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?

Or is it some abuse? Or no such thing?

Laer. Know you the hand?

Hamlet.

Kin. 'Tis Hamlets Character, naked and in a Postscript here

he says alone: Can you advise me?

Laer. I'm lost in it my Lord; but let him come.

It warms the very sickness in my heart,

That I shall live 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'll not o'errule me to a peace. Kin. To thine own peace: if he be now return'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 shall not choose but fall; And for his death no wind of blame shall breath, But even his Mother shall uncharge the practice, And call it accident: Some two Months hence Here was a Gentleman of Normandy, I've seen my self, and serv'd against the French, And they ran well on Horseback; but this Gallant Had witchcraft in't; he grew into his Seat, And to such wondrous doing brought his Horse, As had he been encorps'd and demi-Natur'd With the brave Beast, so far he past my thought, That I in forgery of shapes and tricks,

Come short of what he did.

Laer. A Norman was't?

Kin. A Norman.

Laer. Upon my life Lamound.

Kin. The very same.

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

Kin. He made confession of you,

And gave you such a Masterly report,
For Art and exercise in your defence;
And for your Rapier most especially,

That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed,
If one could match you Sir. This report of his

Did Hamlet so envenom with his Envy,
That he could nothing do but wish and beg,

Your sudden coming o'er to play with him;

Now out of this.

Laer. Why out of this, my Lord?

Kin. Laertes was your Father dear to you?

Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,

A face without a heart?

Laer. Why ask you this?

Kin. Not that I think you did not love your Father, But that I know Love is begun by Time: And that I see in passages of proof,

Time qualifies the spark and fire of it :

Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,
To show your self your Fathers son indeed,
More than in words?

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

Kin. No place indeed should murder Sanctu❜rize;
Revenge should have no bounds: but good Laertes
Will you do this, keep close within your Chamber,
Hamlet return'd, shall know you are come home:
We'll put on those shall praise your excellence,
And set a double varnish on the fame

The Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine together,
And wager on your heads, he being remiss,
Most generous, and free from all contriving,
Will not peruse the Foils? So that with ease,
Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
A Sword unbaited, and in a pass of practice,
Requite him for your Father.

Laer. I will do't,

And for that purpose I'll anoint my Sword:
I bought an Unction of a Mountebank
So mortal, I but dipp'd a knife in it,
Where it draws blood, no Cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all Simples that have Virtue
Under the Moon, can save the thing from death,
That is but scratcht withal: I'll touch my point,
With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

Kin Let's further think of this,

Weigh what convenience both of time and means
May fit us to our shape, if this should fail;

And that our drift look through our bad performance,
'Twere better not assay'd; therefore this Project
Should have a back or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proof: Soft, let me see
We'll make a solemn wager on your comings,
I ha't: when in your motion you are hot and dry,
As make your bouts more violent to the end,
And that he calls for drink; I'll have prepar'd him
A Chalice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
Our purpose may hold there; how sweet Queen.

Enter Queen.

Queen. One woe doth tread upon anothers heel, So fast they'll follow your Sister's drown'd Laertes. Laer. Drown'd! O where?

:

Queen. There is a Willow grows aslant a Brook, That shews his hoar leaves in the glassy stream: There with fantastic Garlands did she come,

Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, and long Purples,
That liberal Shepherds give a grosser name;

But our cold Maids do Dead Mens Fingers call them :
There on the pendant boughs, her Coronet weeds
Clambring to hang; an envious sliver broke,
When down the weedy Trophies, and her self,
Fell in the weeping Brook, her clothes spread wide,
And Mermaid-like, a while they bore her up,
Which time she chaunted snatches 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 her drink,
Pul'd the poor wretch from her melodious buy,
To muddy death.

Laer. Alas then, is she drown'd?

Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

Laer. Too much of water hast thou poor Ophelia,

And therefore I forbid my tears but yet

It is our trick, Nature her custom holds,

Let shame say 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 doubts it.

Kin. Let's follow, Gertrude:

How much I had to do to calm his rage?
Now fear I this will give it start again;
Therefore let's follow.

Enter two Clowns.

Exit.

Exeunt.

Clown. Is she to be buried in Christian burial, that wilfully seeks her own salvation?

Other. I tell thee she is, and therefore make her Grave straight, the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian burial.

Clo. How can that be, unless she drowned her self in her own defence ?

Other. Why 'tis found so.

Clo. It must be Se offendendo, it cannot be else for here lies the point; If I drown my self wittingly, it argues an Act: and an Act hath three branches. It is an Act to do and to perform; argall she drown'd herself wittingly.

Other. Nay but hear you Goodman Delver.

Clown. Give me leave; here lies the water; good: here stands the man; good: If the man go to this water and drown himsel; it is will he nill he, he goes; mark you that? But if the water come to him and drown him; he drowns not himself. Argall, he that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life.

Other. But is this law?

Clo. Ay marry is't, Crowners Quest Law.

Other. Will you ha the truth on't: if this had not been a

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