Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour.

Go to your rest, at night we'll feast together:.

Most welcome home.

[Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius]

This business is well ended.

My liege and madam, to expostulate

What majesty should be, what duty is,

Why day is day, night night, and time is time

Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.

Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,

And tediousness the limbs and outward

                         flourishes,

I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.

Mad call I it; for to define true madness,

What is't but to be nothing else but mad?

But let that go.

More matter, with less art.

Madam, I swear I use no art at all.

That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;

And pity 'tis 'tis true. A foolish figure,

But farewell it, for I will use no art.

Mad let us grant him then. And now remains

That we find out the cause of this effect,

Or rather say, the cause of this defect,

For this effect defective comes by cause.

Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend,

I have a daughter-have whilst she is mine —

Who in her duty and obedience, mark,

Hath given me this. Now gather, and surmise.

[Reads]

To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most

                         beautified Ophelia —

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is a vile

phrase: but you shall hear.

[Reads]

these; in her excellent white bosom, these, etc.

Came this from Hamlet to her?

Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.

[Reads]

Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun doth move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

But never doubt I love.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not art to reckon my groans. But that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him,

                                       Hamlet

This in obedience hath my daughter show'd me;

And more above, hath his solicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place,

All given to mine ear.

But how hath she receiv'd his love?

What do you think of me?

As of a man faithful and honourable.

I would fain prove so. But what might you think,

When I had seen this hot love on the wing,

As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,

Before my daughter told me, what might you,

Or my dear Majesty your queen here, think,

If I had play'd the desk or table-book,

Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb,

Or look'd upon this love with idle sight,

What might you think? No, I went round to work,

And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: