Therefore, our sometime sister, now our queen, [Laertes kneels You told us of some suit; what is 't, Laertes ? The head is not more native to the heart, Dread my lord, Laer. Your leave and favor to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave Upon his will I sealed my hard consent: King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, [Enter Hamlet C. But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,— A little more than kin and less than kind. King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Hamlet. Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. [The King, Polonius, and Laertes retire R. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Seek for thy noble father in the dust : Thou know'st 't is common,- all that live must die, Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, [Exit Laertes, leaving the King and Polonius. King. 'T is sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To do obsequious sorrow; but to perséver In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornness; 't is unmanly grief: This unprevailing woe; and think of us Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: Hamlet. I shall in all my best obey you, madam. King. Why, 't is a loving and a fair reply: [Polonius advances to R. I. E This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet [March. Exeunt all except Hamlet. O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Fie on 't! O, fie! 't is an unweeded garden, Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, By what it fed on: and yet, within a month, Let me not think on 't;- Frailty, thy name is woman! Would have mourned longer,-married with my uncle; It is not, nor it cannot come to, good: But break, my heart,- for I must hold my tongue! [Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo c Horatio. Hail to your lordship! I am glad to see you well: Horatio, or I do forget myself. Horatio. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Hamlet. Sír, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: My good lord,— Mar. Hamlet. I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.-- Horatio. A truant disposition, good my lord. Hamlet. I would not hear your enemy say so; We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. Horatio. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Hamlet. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; Horatio. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon. Hamlet. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats My father, methinks I see my father. I saw him once; he was a goodly king. [All start. [Meditatively. |