The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 8 of 9]Shakespeare, William
General
The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 8 of 9]
Shakespeare, William
English drama
_Laer._ Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,[1795]
She turns to favour and to prettiness.
_Oph._ [_Sings_] And will a' not come again?[1796][1797] 185
And will a' not come again?[1797]
No, no, he is dead,[1798]
Go to thy death-bed,[1798][1799]
He never will come again.
His beard was as white as snow,[1800] 190
All flaxen was his poll:[1801]
He is gone, he is gone,[1802]
And we cast away moan:[1802]
God ha' mercy on his soul![1803]
And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' you. 195
[_Exit._[1804]
_Laer._ Do you see this, O God?[1805]
_King._ Laertes, I must commune with your grief,[1806]
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: 200
If by direct or by collateral hand[1807]
They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,[1808]
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,[1809] 205
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.
_Laer._ Let this be so;
His means of death, his obscure funeral,[1810]
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,[1811]
No noble rite nor formal ostentation,[1812] 210
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,
That I must call't in question.[1813]
_King._ So you shall;
And where the offence is let the great axe fall.[1814]
I pray you, go with me. [_Exeunt._
SCENE VI. _Another room in the castle._
_Enter_ HORATIO _and a_ Servant.[1815]
_Hor._ What are they that would speak with me?[1816]
_Serv._ Sea-faring men, sir: they say they have letters
for you.[1816][1817]
_Hor._ Let them come in. [_Exit Servant._[1816][1818]
I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.[1819] 5
_Enter_ Sailors.[1820]
_First Sail._ God bless you, sir.[1821][1822]
_Hor._ Let him bless thee too.
_First Sail._ He shall, sir, an't please him. There's a[1821][1823]
letter for you, sir; it comes from the ambassador that was[1824]
bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let 10
to know it is.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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