2738.21677King Hamlet is
ship't for England, fare him well,
2738.31678I hope to heare good newes from thence ere long,
2738.61681Queene God grant it may, heau'ns keep my
Hamlet safe:
28201682But this mi
schance of olde
Corambis death,
28211683Hath pier
sed
so the yong
Ofeliaes heart,
28221684That
she, poore maide, is quite bereft her wittes.
28241685King Alas deere heart! And on the other
side,
28251686We vnder
stand her brother's come from
France, 2825.11687And he hath halfe the heart of all our Land,
28281688And hardly hee'le forget his fathers death,
27791690Qu. O
see where the yong
Ofelia is!
27661691 Enter Ofelia playing on a Lute, and her haire 27691693Ofelia How
should I your true loue know
27701695By his cockle hatte, and his
sta
ffe,
And
Prince of Denmarke
1696And his
sandall
shoone.
27781697White his
shrowde as mountaine
snowe,
27811699That bewept to the graue did not goe
27731701He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,
27741702At his head a gra
sse greene tur
ffe,
1703At his heeles a
stone.
27831704king How i'
st with you
sweete
Ofelia?
28061706It grieues me to
see how they laid him in the cold ground,
1707I could not chu
se but weepe:
29431710No, no, hee's gone, and we ca
st away mone,
1714He is dead, he is gone,
29491717And of all chri
sten
soules I pray God.
28091718God be with you Ladies, God be with you.
exit Ofelia. 2809.11719king A pretty wretch! this is a change indeede:
2809.21720O Time, how
swiftly runnes our ioyes away?
2809.31721Content on earth was neuer certaine bred,
2809.41722To day we laugh and liue, to morrow dead.
28581726O thou vilde king, giue me my father:
28771729Lear. Who hath murdred him?
speake, i'le not
1730Be juggled with, for he is murdred.
H Leartes
The Tragedie of Hamlet
1732Lear. By whome, by heau'n I'le be re
solued.
28671733king Let him goe
Gertred, away, I feare him not,
28681734There's
such diuinitie doth wall a king,
28691735That trea
son dares not looke on.
28711736Let him goe
Gertred, that your father is murdred,
29011737T'is true, and we mo
st sory for it,
28911739Therefore will you like a mo
st de
sperate gam
ster,
1740Swoop-
stake-like, draw at friend, and foe, and all?
28951741Lear. To his good friends thus wide I'le ope mine arms,
1742And locke them in my hart, but to his foes,
551.11743I will no reconcilement but by bloud.
28981744king Why now you
speake like a mo
st louing
sonne:
1745And that in
soule we
sorrow for for his death,
29021746Your
selfe ere long
shall be a witne
sse,
29601747Meane while be patient, and content your
selfe.
29061749Lear. Who's this,
Ofelia? O my deere
sister!
29121750I'
st po
ssible a yong maides life,
29131751Should be as mortall as an olde mans
sawe?
2913.21753Ofel. Wel God a mercy, I a bin gathering of
floures:
1755You may call it hearb a grace a Sundayes,
1756Heere's
some for me too: you mu
st weare your rew
29351757With a di
fference, there's a dazie.
29271758Here Loue, there's ro
semary for you
1759For remembrance: I pray Loue remember,
29281760And there's pan
sey for thoughts.
29301761Lear. A document in madnes, thoughts, remembrance:
29321763Ofelia There is fennell for you, I would a giu'n you
29361764Some violets, but they all withered, when
1765My father died: alas, they
say the owle was
27851766A Bakers daughter, we
see what we are,
1767But can not tell what we
shall be.
For
Prince of Denmarke.
29381768For bonny
sweete Robin is all my ioy.
29391769Lear. Thoughts & a
ffli
ctions, torments wor
se than hell.
27881770Ofel. Nay Loue, I pray you make no words of this now:
29231771I pray now, you
shall
sing a downe,
1772And you a downe a, t'is a the Kings daughter
29251773And the fal
se
steward, and if any body
27891774A
ske you of any thing,
say you this.
27901775To morrow is
saint Valentines day,
1776All in the morning betime,
1778To be your Valentine:
27921779The yong man ro
se, and dan'd his clothes,
1780And dupt the chamber doore,
27931781Let in the maide, that out a maide
27961784By gi
sse, and by
saint Charitie,
27981786Yong men will doo't when they come too't
28001788Quoth
she, before you tumbled me,
28021790So would I a done, by yonder Sunne,
28031791If thou had
st not come to my bed.
1792So God be with you all, God bwy Ladies.
30331794Lear. Griefe vpon griefe, my father murdered,
3034.11796Cur
sed be his
soule that wrought this wicked a
ct.
1797king Content you good Leartes for a time,
2960.11798Although I know your griefe is as a
floud,
2960.21799Brimme full of
sorrow, but forbeare a while,
2960.41801On him that makes you
such a haple
sse
sonne.
29631802Lear. You haue preuail'd my Lord, a while I'le
striue,
H2 Which
The Tragedy of Hamlet
2963.21804Which once vnhear
sed, then the world
shall heare
2963.41806king No more of that, ere many dayes be done,
2963.51807You
shall heare that you do not dreame vpon.
exeunt om.