And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe;
But even his mother shall uncharge the practice,
And call it, accident.

Laer.
The rather, if you could devise it so,
That I might be the organ.

My lord, I will be rul'd:

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.

Laer. What part is that, my lord? King. A very riband in the cap of youth, Yet needful 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.-Some two months hence,

Here was a gentleman of Normandy,—

I have seen myself, and serv'd against the French,
And they ran well on horseback: but this gallant
Had witchcraft in 't; he grew into his seat;
And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorps'd and demi-natur'd
With the brave beast: so far he pass'd my thought,
That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,

Come short of what he did.

Laer.

King. A Norman.

A Norman, was 't?

King.

The very same.

Laer. Upon my life, Lamound.

Laer. I know him well: he is the brooch, 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, 't would be a sight indeed,

If one could match you: the scrimers a 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 him.
Now, out of this,-

Laer.

Why 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?

Laer.

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,b

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' the ulcer :
Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,
To show yourself your father's son in deed

More than in words?

Laer.

To cut his throat i' the 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?

a Scrimers-fencers; from escrimeurs.

b Plurisy was constantly used in the sense of fulness, abundance, by the poets.

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,a
Most generous, and free from all contriving,

b

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.

Laer.

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,
That 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 fail,

And that our drift look through our bad performance,
'T were better not assay'd; therefore this project
Should have a back, or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proof. Soft;-let me see :—
We'll make a solemn wager on your commings,d.
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.

a Remiss-inattentive.

b Peruse-examine.

c Unbated-not blunted. a Commings-meetings in assault.

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. Laer. 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 crow-flowers, 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
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down the weedy trophies, and herself,

Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
And, mermaid-like, a while they bore her up:
Which time, she chanted 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.

Laer.

Alas then, is she drown'd? Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

Laer. 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.

King.
How much I had to do to calm his rage!
Now fear I this will give it start again;
Therefore let 's follow.

Let's follow, Gertrude;

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-A Church-Yard.

Enter Two Clowns, with spades, &c.

1 Clo. Is she to be buried in christian burial, that wilfully seeks her own salvation?

2 Clo. I tell thee, she is; and therefore make her grave straight: the crowner hath sate on her, and finds it a christian burial.

1 Clo. How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence?

2 Clo. Why, 't is found so.

1 Clo. It must be se offendendo; it cannot be else. For here lies the point: If I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act and an act hath three branches; it is, to act, to do, and to perform: argal, she drowned herself wittingly.

2 Clo. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver.

1 Clo. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here stands the man; good: If the man go to this water, and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes; mark you that? but if the water come to him, and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life. 2 Clo. But is this law?

1 Clo. Ay, marry is 't; crowner's-quest law.

2 Clo. Will you ha' the truth on 't? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of christian burial.

1 Clo. Why, there thou say 'st: And the more pity, that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their

a Straight-straightways-forthwith.