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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)

    Enter Horatio and the Queene.
    Hor. Madame, your sonne is safe arriv'de in Denmarke,
    2985 This letter I euen now receiv'd of him,
    2985.1 Whereas he writes how he escap't the danger,
    And subtle treason that the king had plotted,
    Being cro s s ed by the contention of the windes,
    3515 He found the Packet sent to the king of England,
    3525 Wherein he saw himselfe betray'd to death,
    3525.1 As at his next conuer sion with your grace,
    He will relate the circum stance at full.
    Queene Then I perceiue there's treason in his lookes
    That seem'd to sugar o're his villanie:
    3525.5 But I will soothe and please him for a time,
    For murderous mindes are alwayes jealous,
    But know not you Horatio where he is?
    Hor. Yes Madame, and he hath appoynted me
    To meete him on the ea st side of the Cittie
    3525.10 To morrow morning.
    Queene O faile not, good Horatio, and withall, com- (mend me
    A mothers care to him, bid him a while
    Be wary of his presence, le st that he
    Faile in that he goes about.
    3525.15 Hor. Madam, neuer make doubt of that:
    I thinke by this the news be come to court:
    He is arriv'de, obserue the king, and you shall
    Quickely finde, Hamlet being here,
    Things fell not to his minde.
    Queene But what became of Gilder stone and Ro s s encraft?
    Hor. He being set a shore, they went for England,
    And in the Packet there writ down that doome
    To be perform'd on them poynted for him:
    And by great chance he had his fathers Seale,
    3551.1 So all was done without discouerie.
    Queene Thankes be to heauen for ble s sing of the prince,
    Horatio once againe I take my leaue,
    With thowsand mothers ble s sings to my sonne.
    3551.5 Horat. Madam adue.