A Room in the Castle. |
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Enter KING, QUEEN, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN. |
King. There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves: |
You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them. |
Where is your son? |
Queen. [To ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.] Bestow this place on us a little while. [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. |
Ah! my good lord, what have I seen to-night. |
King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? |
Queen. Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend |
Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit, |
Behind the arras hearing something stir, |
Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat! a rat!' |
And, in his brainish apprehension, kills |
The unseen good old man. |
King. O heavy deed! |
It had been so with us had we been there. |
His liberty is full of threats to all; |
To you yourself, to us, to every one. |
Alas! how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? |
It will be laid to us, whose providence |
Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt, |
This mad young man: but so much was our love, |
We would not understand what was most fit, |
But, like the owner of a foul disease, |
To keep it from divulging, let it feed |
Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone? |
Queen. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd; |
O'er whom his very madness, like some ore |
Among a mineral of metals base, |
Shows itself pure: he weeps for what is done. |
King. O Gertrude! come away. |
The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch |
But we will ship him hence; and this vile deed |
We must, with all our majesty and skill, |
Both countenance and excuse. Ho! Guildenstern! |
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Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. |
Friends both, go join you with some further aid: |
Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, |
And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him: |
Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body |
Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. |
Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends; |
And let them know both what we mean to do, |
And what's untimely done: so, haply, slander, |
Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, |
As level as the cannon to his blank |
Transports his poison'd shot, may miss our name, |
And hit the woundless air. O! come away; |
My soul is full of discord and dismay. [Exeunt. |
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