“I loved Ophelia,” said Hamlet; “forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.”
In Laertes’s own style of exaggeration, Hamlet hurled forth a fiery challenge, and then, with sudden self-contempt, he ended in half-sad irony:
“Nay, an thou’lt mouth, I’ll rant as well as thou.”
The next day Hamlet and Horatio were walking in the hall of the castle, when a very elegant and affected young Danish nobleman approached, and, with many bows and flourishes, delivered his message, which was a challenge from Laertes to a fencing match. The King had laid a heavy wager on Hamlet—six Barbary horses against six French rapiers and poniards, that in a dozen passes Laertes would not exceed Hamlet three hits.
“Sir, I will walk here in the hall,” answered Hamlet; “if it please his Majesty, it is the breathing-time of day with me. Let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing; if the King hold his purpose, I will win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.”
“You will lose this wager, my lord,” said Horatio, when young Osric, with a final sweeping bow of his plumed cap, had retired.
“I do not think so,” said Hamlet. “Since he went into France I have been in continual practice. I shall win at the odds.—But thou wouldst not think how ill all’s here about my heart; but it is no matter.”
“Nay, good my lord——”
“It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman.”
“If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will go and tell them you are not fit.”