William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

ACT IV. 5. Scene V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle. (continued)

Laer.
To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;
And, like the kind life-rendering pelican,
Repast them with my blood.

King.
Why, now you speak
Like a good child and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am most sensibly in grief for it,
It shall as level to your judgment pierce
As day does to your eye.

Danes.
[Within] Let her come in.

Laer.
How now! What noise is that?

[Re-enter Ophelia, fantastically dressed with straws and
flowers.]

O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!--
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!--
O heavens! is't possible a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in love; and where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

Oph.
[Sings.]
   They bore him barefac'd on the bier
   Hey no nonny, nonny, hey nonny
   And on his grave rain'd many a tear.--

Fare you well, my dove!

Laer.
Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
It could not move thus.

Oph.
You must sing 'Down a-down, an you call him a-down-a.' O,
how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his
master's daughter.

Laer.
This nothing's more than matter.

Oph.
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love,
remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Laer.
A document in madness,--thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Oph.
There's fennel for you, and columbines:--there's rue for you;
and here's some for me:--we may call it herb of grace o'
Sundays:--O, you must wear your rue with a difference.--There's a
daisy:--I would give you some violets, but they wither'd all when
my father died:--they say he made a good end,--
[Sings.]
   For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,--