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Lives almost by his looks; and for my self,
My virtue or my plague, be't either which,
She's fo conjunctive to my life and foul;
That as the ftar moves not but in his sphere,
I could not but by her. The other motive,
Why to a publick 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
gyves to graces. So my arrows
Too flightly timbred for so loud a wind,
Would have reverted to my bow again,
And not where I had aim'd them.

Laer. And fo have I a noble father lost,
A fifter driven into defperate terms,
Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
Stood challenger on mount of all the age
For her perfections

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But revenge will come.

King. Break not your fleeps for that, you must not think That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,

That we can let our beard be fhook with danger,

And think it paftime. You fhall foon hear more.
I lov'd your father, and we love your self,
And that I hope will teach you to imagine-
Enter Messenger.

Mef. These to your Majefty: this to the Queen.
King. From Hamlet? who brought them?

Mef. Sailors, my lord, they fay, I faw them not:
They were giv'n me by Claudio, he receiv'd them.

King. Laertes, you shall hear them: leave us, all--- [Exit Mef. High and mighty, you shall know I am fet naked on your kingdom. To-morrow fhall I beg leave to fee your kingly eyes. When I fhall, first asking you pardon thereunto, recount th' occafion of my fudden return. Hamlet. What

What should this mean? are all the reft come back?
Or is it some abuse ---- and no such thing?

Laer. Know you the hand?

King. 'Tis Hamlet's character;

Naked, and (in a postscript here, he fays)
Alone: can you advise me?

Laer. I'm loft in it, my lord; but let him come,
It warms the very sickness in my heart,

That I fhall live and tell him to his teeth,
Thus diddeft thou.

King. If it be fo, Laertes,

As how fhould it be fo?----- how otherwife?
Will you be rul❜d by me?

-----

Laer. I, fo you'll not o'er-rule me to a peace.
King. To thine own peace: if he be now return'd,

As liking not his voyage, and that he means
No more to undertake it; I will work him
To an exploit now ripe in my devise,

Under the which he fhall not chufe but fall:

And for his death no wind of blame fhall breathe,

But ev❜n his mother shall uncharge the practice,
And call it accident.

Laer. I will be rul'd,

The rather if you could devise it fo
That I might be the inftrument.
King. It falls right:

parts

You have been talkt of fince your travel much,
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
Wherein they say you fhine; your sum of
Did not together pluck such envy from him,
As did that one, and that in my regard
Of the unworthiest siege.

Laer. What part is that, my lord?
King. A very feather in the
feather in the cap of youth,

Yet

Yet needful too, for youth no lefs becomes

The light and careless livery that it wears,
Than fettled age his fables, and his weeds,
Importing health and graveness. Two months fince
Here was a gentleman of Normandy;

I've seen my self and serv'd against the French,
And they can well on horse-back; but this gallant
Had witchcraft in't, he grew unto his feat;
And to fuch wondrous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorps'd and demy-natur'd
With the brave beast; so far he past my thought,
That I in forgery of shapes and tricks,
Come fhort of what he did.

Laer. A Norman was't?

King. A Norman.

Laer. Upon my life, Lamond.

King. The very fame.

Laer. I know him well, he is the brooch indeed, And gem of all the nation.

King. He made confeffion of you,
And gave you such a masterly report,
For art and exercise in your defence;
And for your rapier most especial,

That he cry'd out, 'twould be a fight indeed,
If one could match you. This report of his
Did Hamlet fo envenom with his envy,
That he could nothing do, but wish and beg
Your fudden coming o'er to play with him.
Now out of this-

Laer. What out of this, my lord?

King. Laertes, was your father dear to you?
Or are you like the painting of a forrow,
A face without a heart?

Laer. Why ask you this?

King.

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 paffages of proof,

Time qualifies the spark and fire of it:
There lives within the very flame of love

A kind of wick or fnuff that will abate it,
And nothing is at a like goodness still;
For goodness growing to a pleurifie,

Dies in his own too much; What 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 spend-thrift's figh
That hurts by eafing; but to th' quick o' th' ulcer
Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake
To fhew your felf your father's fon indeed,
More than in words?

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

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King. No place indeed should murther fanctuarise;
Revenge should have no bounds; but, good Laertes,
Will you do this, keep close within your chamber?
Hamlet return'd, fhall know you are come home:
We'll put on those shall praise your excellence,
And fet 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; fo that with ease,
Or with a little fhuffling, you may chuse
A sword unbated, and in a pass of practice
Requite him for
your father.

Laer. I will do't;

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And for the purpose I'll anoint my sword:

I

I bought an unction of a mountebank,

So mortal, that but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood, no cataplafm so rare,
Collected from all fimples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death,
That is but fcratch'd withal; I'll touch my point
With this contagion, 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 fhould fail,

And that our drift look through our bad performance,
'Twere better not affay'd; therefore this project
Should have a back, or fecond, that might hold,
If this should blaft in proof. Soft- let me fee---
We'll make a folemn wager on your cunnings,
ha't----- when in your motion you are hot,
And make your bouts more violent to th' end,
And that he calls for drink; I'll have prepar'd him
A chalice for the nonce; whereon but fipping,

If he by chance escape your venom'd tuck,

Our purpose may hold there. How now, fweet Queen?

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Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
So faft they follow: your fifter's drown'd, Laertes.
Laer. Drown'd! oh where?

Queen. There is a willow grows allant a brook,
That shews his hoar leaves in the glassie stream:
There with fantastick garlands did she come,
Of crow-flow'rs, nettles, daifies, and long purples

That

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