Laertes, I must commune with your grief,
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.
If by direct or by collateral hand
They find us touch’d, we will our kingdom give,
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,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.
Laer.
Let this be so;
His means of death, his obscure burial,—
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o’er his bones,
No noble rite nor formal ostentation,—
Cry to be heard, as ‘twere from heaven to earth,
That I must call’t in question.
King.
So you shall;
And where the offence is let the great axe fall.
I pray you go with me.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VI. Another room in the Castle.
[Enter Horatio and a Servant.]
Hor.
What are they that would speak with me?
Servant.
Sailors, sir: they say they have letters for you.
Hor.
Let them come in.
[Exit Servant.]
I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
[Enter Sailors.]
I Sailor.
God bless you, sir.
Hor.
Let him bless thee too.
Sailor. He shall, sir, an’t please him. There’s a letter for you, sir,—it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.
Hor. [Reads.] ‘Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king: they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded them: on the instant they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy: but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldst fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell. He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.’
Come, I will give you way for these your letters;
And do’t the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VII. 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
Pursu’d my life.
Laer.
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 gyves 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.
Laer.
And so have I a noble father lost;
A sister driven into desperate 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.]
How now! What news?
Mess.
Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
This to your majesty; this to the queen.
King.
From Hamlet! Who brought them?
Mess.
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. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes: when I shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasions 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?
Laer.
Know you the hand?
King.
‘Tis Hamlet’s character:—‘Naked!’—
And in a postscript here, he says ‘alone.’
Can you advise me?
Laer.