Gos. I will not stay; believe, Sir. [Exit.
Gertrude, a word with you.
Ger. Why is this stop, Sir?
Gos. I have no more time left me, but to kiss thee, And tell thee this, I am ever thine: farewel wench. [Exit.
Ger. And is that all your Ceremony? Is this a wedding?
Are all my hopes and prayers turn'd to nothing?
Well, I will say no more, nor sigh, nor sorrow;
Till to thy face I prove thee false. Ah me! [Exit.
ACTUS QUINTUS. SCENA PRIMA.
Enter Gertrude, and a Boor.
Ger. Lead, if thou thinkst we are right: why dost thou make These often stands? thou saidst thou knewst the way.
Bo. Fear nothing, I do know it: would 'twere homeward.
Ger. Wrought from me by a Beggar? at the time
That most should tye him? 'tis some other Love
That hath a more command on his affections,
And he that fetcht him, a disguised Agent,
Not what he personated; for his fashion
Was more familiar with him, and more powerful
Than one that ask'd an alms: I must find out
One, if not both: kind darkness be my shrowd,
And cover loves too curious search in me,
For yet, suspicion, I would not name thee.