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Hamlet
act iv   Scene 7
William Shakespeare
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       Elsinore. 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,
       That he which hath your noble father slain
       Pursued my life.
       LAERTES
       It well appears. But tell me
       Why you proceeded not against these feats
       So crimeful and so capital in nature,
       As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,
       You mainly were stirr'd up.
       KING
       O, for two special reasons,
       Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,
       But yet to me they are strong. The Queen his mother
       Lives almost by his looks; and for myself,-
       My virtue or my plague, be it either which,-
       She's so conjunctive to my life and soul
       That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
       I could not but by her. The other motive
       Why to a public count I might not go
       Is the great love the general gender bear him,
       Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
       Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
       Convert his gives to graces; so that my arrows,
       Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
       Would have reverted to my bow again,
       And not where I had aim'd them.
       LAERTES
       And so have I a noble father lost;
       A sister driven into desp'rate terms,
       Whose worth, 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 ourself,
       And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine-
       Enter a Messenger with letters.
       How now? What news?
       MESSENGER
       Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
       This to your Majesty; this to the Queen.
       KING
       From Hamlet? Who brought them?
       MESSENGER
       Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not.
       They were given me by Claudio; he receiv'd them
       Of him that brought them.
       KING
       Laertes, you shall hear them.
       Leave us.
       Exit Messenger.
       [Reads]'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 the
       occasion of my sudden and more strange return.
       'HAMLET.'
       What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?
       Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
       LAERTES
       Know you the hand?
       KING
       'Tis Hamlet's character. 'Naked!'
       And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'
       Can you advise me?
       LAERTES
       I am 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 didest thou.'
       KING
       If it be so, Laertes
       (As how should it be so? how otherwise?),
       Will you be rul'd by me?
       LAERTES
       Ay my lord,
       So you will not o'errule me to a peace.
       KING
       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 exploit now ripe in my device,
       Under the which he shall not choose but fall;
       And for his death no wind shall breathe
       But even his mother shall uncharge the practice
       And call it accident.
       LAERTES
       My lord, 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 talk'd of since your travel much,
       And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
       Wherein they say you shine, Your sum of parts
       Did not together pluck such envy from him
       As did that one; and that, in my regard,
       Of the unworthiest siege.
       LAERTES
       What part is that, my lord?
       KING
       A very riband in the cap of youth-
       Yet needfull too; for youth no less becomes
       The light and careless livery that it wears
       Than settled age his sables and his weeds,
       Importing health and graveness. Two months since
       Here was a gentleman of Normandy.
       I have seen myself, and serv'd against, the French,
       And they can well on horseback; but this gallant
       Had witchcraft in't. He grew unto his seat,
       And to such wondrous doing brought his horse
       As had he been incorps'd and demi-natur'd
       With the brave beast. So far he topp'd my thought
       That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,
       Come short of what he did.
       LAERTES
       A Norman was't?
       KING
       A Norman.
       LAERTES
       Upon my life, Lamound.
       KING
       The very same.
       LAERTES
       I know him well. He is the broach indeed
       And gem of all the nation.
       KING
       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. The scrimers of their nation
       He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
       If you oppos'd them. 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 you.
       Now, out of this-
       LAERTES
       What out of this, my lord?
       KING
       Laertes, was your father dear to you?
       Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
       A face without a heart,'
       LAERTES
       Why ask you this?
       KING
       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.
       There lives within the very flame of love
       A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;
       And nothing is at a like goodness still;
       For goodness, growing to a plurisy,
       Dies in his own too-much. That 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 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh,
       That hurts by easing. But to the quick o' th' ulcer!
       Hamlet comes back. What would you undertake
       To show yourself your father's son in deed
       More than in words?
       LAERTES
       To cut his throat i' th' church!
       KING
       No place indeed should murther sanctuarize;
       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 unbated, and, in a pass of practice,
       Requite him for your father.
       LAERTES
       I will do't!
       And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword.
       I bought an unction of a mountebank,
       So mortal that, but dip 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
       This is but scratch'd withal. I'll touch my point
       With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
       It may be death.
       KING
       Let's further think of this,
       Weigh what convenience both of time and means
       May fit us to our shape. If this should fall,
       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 did blast in proof. Soft! let me see.
       We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings-
       I ha't!
       When in your motion you are hot and dry-
       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 sipping,
       If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
       Our purpose may hold there.- But stay, what noise,
       Enter Queen.
       How now, sweet queen?
       QUEEN
       One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
       So fast they follow. Your sister's drown'd, Laertes.
       LAERTES
       Drown'd! O, where?
       QUEEN
       There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
       That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
       There with fantastic garlands did she come
       Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
       That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
       But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them.
       There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
       Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
       When down her weedy trophies and herself
       Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide
       And, mermaid-like, awhile 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 their drink,
       Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
       To muddy death.
       LAERTES
       Alas, then she is drown'd?
       QUEEN
       Drown'd, drown'd.
       LAERTES
       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 douts it.
       Exit.
       KING
       Let's follow, Gertrude.
       How much I had to do to calm his rage I
       Now fear I this will give it start again;
       Therefore let's follow.
       Exeunt.
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Dramatis Personae
act i
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
   Scene 3
   Scene 4
   Scene 5
act ii
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
act iii
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
   Scene 3
   Scene 4
act iv
   Scene 1
   Scene 2
   Scene 3
   Scene 4
   Scene 5
   Scene 6
   Scene 7
act v
   Scene 1
   Scene 2