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Published:  at  08:08 PM

Line 102 of Act IV, Scene 7

LAERTES

A Norman was ‘t?

KING CLAUDIUS A Norman.

LAERTES

Upon my life, Lamord!

KING CLAUDIUS The very same.

LAERTES I know him well.

He is the brooch indeed

And gem of all the nation.

KING CLAUDIUS

He made confession of you

And gave you such a masterly report

For art and exercise in your defense,

And for your rapier most especial,

That he cried out ‘twould be a sight indeed

If one could match you. The ‘scrimers of their nation

He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye,

If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his

Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy

That he could nothing do but wish and beg

Your sudden coming-o’er, to play with you.

Now out of this—

LAERTES What out of this, my lord?


KING CLAUDIUS

Laertes, was your father dear to you?

Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,

A face without a heart?

LAERTES Why ask you this?!

KING CLAUDIUS

Not that I think you did not love your father,

But that I know love is begun by time

And that I see, in passages of proof,

Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.

There lives within the very flame of love

A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it,

And nothing is at a like goodness still;

For goodness, growing to a pleurisy,

Dies in his own too-much. That we would do

We should do when we would; for this “would” changes

And hath abatements and delays as many

As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;

And then this “should” is like a spendthrift sigh,

That hurts by easing. But to the quick of th’ ulcer:

Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake

To show yourself indeed your father’s son

More than in words?


LAERTES

To cut his throat in th’ church.


KING CLAUDIUS

No place indeed should murder sanctuarize;

Revenge should have no bounds. But—good Laertes—

Will you do this? Keep close within your chamber.

Hamlet, returned, shall know you are come home.

We’ll put on those shall praise your excellence

And set a double varnish on the fame

The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, together

And wager on your heads. He, being remiss,

Most generous, and free from all contriving,

Will not peruse the foils, so that with ease,

Or with a littls shuffling, you may choose

A sword unbated, and in a pass of practice

Requite him for your father.

LAERTES I will do’t,

And for that purpose I’ll anoint my sword…

Line 160 of Act IV, Scene 7