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Divided from herself, and her fair judgment;
[A noise within. Alack! what noise is this?
Enter a Gentleman.
Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door :
What is the matter?
Save yourself, my lord;
The ocean, overpeering of his list,"
Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste,
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,
O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, Lord;
And, as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word,
They cry, Choose we; Laertes shall be king!
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds, Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!
Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! O, this is counter,5 you false Danish dogs. King. The doors are broke.
1a piece of ordnance.
3 That is, antiquity and custom are the ratifiers, &c.
4 TYRWHITT suggests work instead of word.
5 Hounds run counter when they trace the trail backwards.