King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death[107]
The memory be green, and that it us befitted[107][108]
To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom[109]
To be contracted in one brow of woe,
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature 5
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,[110]
The imperial jointress to this warlike state,[111]
Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,— 10
With an auspicious and a dropping eye,[112]
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,—
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone 15
With this affair along. For all, our thanks.[113]
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,[114]
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, 20
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,[115]
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,[116]
To our most valiant brother. So much for him.[117] 25
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting:[118]
Thus much the business is: we have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,—
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears[119]
Of this his nephew's purpose,—to suppress 30
His further gait herein; in that the levies,[120]
The lists and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject: and we here dispatch[121]
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,[122]
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,[123] 35
Giving to you no further personal power[124]
To business with the king more than the scope[124]
Of these delated articles allow.[125]
Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.[126]
Cor. } In that and all things will we show our duty.[127] 40
Vol. }
King. We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.[128]
[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius.
And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?[129]
You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes?
You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
And lose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,[130] 45
That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?[131]
The head is not more native to the heart,[132]
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.[133]
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
Laer. My dread lord,[134] 50
Your leave and favour to return to France,
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
To show my duty in your coronation,
Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France[135] 55
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?[136]
Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave[137][138][139]
By laboursome petition, and at last[138][139][140]
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:[139] 60
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,[141]
And thy best graces spend it at thy will![141][142]
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,—[143]
Ham. [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.[144]65