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OPHELIA . You must sing ‘ Down a - down , and you call him a - down - a . ’ O , how the wheel becomes it ! It is the false steward that stole his master’s daughter . LAERTES . This nothing’s more than matter . OPHELIA . There’s rosemary , that’s for remembrance ; pray love , remember . And there is pansies , that’s for thoughts . LAERTES . A document in madness , thoughts and remembrance fitted . OPHELIA . 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 . LAERTES . Thought and affliction , passion , hell itself She turns to favour and to prettiness . OPHELIA . [ Sings . ] And will he not come again ? And will he not come again ? No , no , he is dead , Go to thy death - bed , He never will come again . His beard was as white as snow , All flaxen was his poll . He is gone , he is gone , And we cast away moan . God ha ’ mercy on his soul . And of all Christian souls , I pray God . God b ’ wi ’ ye . [ Exit . ] LAERTES . Do you see this , O God ? KING . Laertes , I must commune with your grief , Or you deny me right . Go but apart , Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will , And they shall hear and judge ’ twixt you and me . If by direct or by collateral hand They find us touch’d , we will our kingdom give , Our crown , our life , and all that we call ours To you in satisfaction ; but if not , Be you content to lend your patience to us , And we shall jointly labour with your soul To give it due content . LAERTES . Let this be so ; His means of death , his obscure burial , — No trophy , sword , nor hatchment o’er his bones , No noble rite , nor formal ostentation , — Cry to be heard , as ’ twere from heaven to earth , That I must call’t in question . KING . So you shall . And where th’offence is let the great axe fall . I pray you go with me . [ Exeunt . ] SCENE VI . Another room in the Castle . Enter Horatio and a Servant . HORATIO . What are they that would speak with me ? SERVANT . Sailors , sir . They say they have letters for you . HORATIO . Let them come in . [ Exit Servant . ] I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted , if not from Lord Hamlet . Enter Sailors . FIRST SAILOR . God bless you , sir . HORATIO . Let him bless thee too . FIRST SAILOR . He shall , sir , and’t please him . There’s a letter for you , sir . It comes from th’ambassador that was bound for England ; if your name be Horatio , as I am let to know it is .
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