him barefac’d on the bierHey no nonny, nonny, hey nonny
And on his grave rain’d many a tear.—
Fare you well, my dove!
Laer.
Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
It could not move thus.
Oph. 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, love, remember: and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.
Laer.
A document in madness,—thoughts and remembrance fitted.
Oph. 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,— [Sings.] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,—
Laer.
Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,
She turns to favour and to prettiness.
Oph.
[Sings.]
And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?
No, no, he is dead,
Go to thy deathbed,
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.—God b’ wi’ ye.
[Exit.]
Laer.
Do you see this, O God?
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,
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
To you in satisfaction; but if not,
Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.
Laer.
Let this be so;
His means of death, his obscure burial,—
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o’er his bones,
No noble rite nor formal ostentation,—
Cry to be heard, as ‘twere from heaven to earth,
That I must call’t in question.
King.
So you shall;
And where the offence is let the great axe fall.
I pray you go with me.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VI. Another room in the Castle.
[Enter Horatio and a Servant.]
Hor.
What are they that would speak with me?
Servant.
Sailors, sir: they say they have letters for you.
Hor.
Let them come in.
[Exit Servant.]
I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
[Enter Sailors.]
I Sailor.
God bless you, sir.
Hor.
Let him bless thee too.
Sailor. He shall, sir, an’t please him. There’s a letter for you, sir,—it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.
Hor. [Reads.] ‘Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king: they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded them: on the instant they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. 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 sent; and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldst 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. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell. He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.’
Come, I will give 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 VII. Another room in the Castle.
[Enter King and Laertes.]
King.
Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,
And you must put me in your heart for friend,
Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
