]

_Ham._ He will stay till you come.

[_Exit_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]

_King._ Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,
Must send thee hence:
Therefore prepare thyself;
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,[5]
For England.

_Ham._ For England!

_King._ Ay, Hamlet.

_Ham._ Good.

_King._ So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.

_Ham._ I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for
England!--Farewell, dear mother.

_King._ Thy loving father, Hamlet.

_Ham._ My mother: Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is
one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England.

[_Exit_, R.H.]

_King._ Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard;
Away! for everything is seal'd and done.

[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ Attendants, R.H.]

And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,
Thou may'st not coldly set[6]
Our sovereign process;[7] which imports at full,
By letters conjuring to that effect,[8]
The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For thou must cure me: 'Till I know 'tis done,
Howe'er my haps,[9] my joys will ne'er begin.

[_Exit_ KING, L.H.]

_Enter_ QUEEN _and_ HORATIO (R. _centre._)

_Queen._ ----I will not speak with her.

_Hor._ She is importunate; indeed, distract:
'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.

_Queen._ Let her come in.

[_Exit_ HORATIO, R.C.]

_Re-enter_ HORATIO, _with_ OPHELIA (R. _centre._)

_Oph._ Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?

_Queen._ How now, Ophelia!

_Oph._ (C.)

[_Singing._]

_How should I your true love know_
_From another one?_
_By his cockle hat and staff_,
_And his sandal shoon._[10]

_Queen._ (L.C.) Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?

_Oph._ Say you? nay, pray you, mark.

[_Sings._]

_He is dead and gone, lady_,
_He is dead and gone_;
_At his head a grass-green turf_,
_At his heels a stone._

_Enter the_ KING (L.H.)

_Queen._ Nay, but, Ophelia,----

_Oph._ Pray you, mark.

[_Sings._]

_White his shroud as the mountain-snow_,
_Larded all with sweet flowers_;[11]
_Which bewept to the grave did go_
_With true-love showers._

_King._ How do you, pretty lady?

_Oph._ Well, Heaven 'ield you![12]

(_Crosses