“Free—yes, free from that wretched dramatic affair. Thank Heaven, it's off my mind!”
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Horatio. My lord, the King your father.
Hamlet. The King—my father?
Horatio. Season your admiration for a while.
In what particular thought to work I know not;
But in the gross and scope of mine opinion
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.