Guild. Good my Lord put your discourse into some frame,[3] and start not so wildely from my [Sidenote: stare] affayre.
Ham. I am tame Sir, pronounce.
Guild. The Queene your Mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you.
Ham. You are welcome.[4]
Guild. Nay, good my Lord, this courtesie is not of the right breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholsome answer, I will doe your Mothers command'ment: if not, your pardon, and my returne shall bee the end of my Businesse. [Sidenote: of busines.]
Ham. Sir, I cannot.
Guild. What, my Lord?
Ham. Make you a wholsome answere: my wits diseas'd. But sir, such answers as I can make, you [Sidenote: answere] shal command: or rather you say, my Mother: [Sidenote: rather as you] therfore no more but to the matter. My Mother you say.
[Footnote 1: These two lines he may be supposed to sing.]
[Footnote 2: Choler means bile, and thence anger. Hamlet in his answer plays on the two meanings:—'to give him the kind of medicine I think fit for him, would perhaps much increase his displeasure.']