King.
I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
To let his madness range ^note. Therefore prepare you;
I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
And he to England shall along with you:
The terms of our estate may ^note not endure
Hazard so near us ^note as doth hourly grow
Out of his lunacies ^note.

Guil.
We will ourselves provide ^note:
Most holy and religious fear it is

To keep those many many ^note bodies safe
That live ^note and feed upon your majesty.

Ros.
The single and peculiar life is bound ^note
With all the strength and armour of the mind
To keep itself from noyance ^note; but much more
That spirit upon ^note whose weal ^note depends and rests ^note
The lives of many. The ^note cease ^note of ^note majesty
Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw
What's near it with it: it is ^note a massy wheel,
Fix'd on the summit ^note of the highest mount,
To whose huge ^note spokes ten thousand lesser things
Are mortised ^note and adjoin'd; which, when it falls,
Each small annexment, petty consequence,
Attends the boisterous ruin ^note. Never ^note alone
Did the king sigh, but with ^note a general groan ^note.

King.
Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage ^note,
For we will fetters put about ^note this fear,
Which now goes too free-footed.

Ros. Guil. ^note
We will haste us ^note. [Exeunt ^note Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Enter Polonius.

Pol.
My lord, he's going to his mother's closet:

Behind the arras I'll convey myself,
To hear the process; I'll warrant ^note she'll tax him home:
And, as you said, and wisely was it said,
'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
The speech, of vantage ^note. Fare you well, my liege:
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,
And tell you what I know ^note.

King.
Thanks, dear my lord. [Exit Polonius. ^note
O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
It hath the primal eldest curse upon't ^note,
A ^note brother's murder ^note. Pray can I not ^note,
Though inclination be as sharp as will ^note: ^note
My stronger guilt defeats ^note my strong intent,
And like a man to double business bound,
I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
And both neglect. What ^note if this cursed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
But to confront the visage of offence?
And what's in prayer but this twofold force,
To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
Or pardon'd ^note being down? Then I'll look up;
My fault is ^note past. But O, what form of prayer
Can serve my turn? ‘Forgive me my foul murder? ^note’

That cannot be, since I am still possess'd
Of those effects ^note for which I did the murder,
My crown, mine own ambition and my queen.
May one be pardon'd ^note and retain the offence ^note?
In the corrupted currents ^note of this world ^note
Offence's gilded ^note hand may shove ^note by justice,
And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize ^note itself
Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above;
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his ^note true nature, and ^note we ourselves compell'd
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults
To give in evidence. What then? what rests?
Try what repentance can: what can it not?
Yet what can it ^note when one can not ^note repent?
O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
O limed soul, that struggling to be free
Art more engaged! Help, angels ^note! make assay!
Bow, stubborn knees, and, heart ^note with strings of steel ^note,
Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
All may be well. [Retires ^note and kneels. Enter Hamlet. ^note

Ham.
Now might I do it pat, now he is ^note praying ^note;

And now I'll do't: and so he goes ^note to heaven:
And so am I revenged. ^note That would be scann'd:
A villain kills my father; and for that,
I, his sole ^note son, do this same villain send
To heaven. ^note
O, ^note this is hire and salary ^note, not revenge.
He ^note took my father grossly, full of bread ^note,
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush ^note as May;
And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?
But in our circumstance and course of thought,
'Tis heavy with him: and ^note am I then revenged,
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and season'd ^note for his passage?
No. ^note
Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent ^note:
When he is drunk asleep ^note, or in his rage,
Or in the incestuous ^note pleasure ^note of his bed;
At game, a-swearing ^note, or about some act
That has no relish of salvation in't;
Then trip him, that his heels may ^note kick at heaven
And that his soul may be as damn'd and black
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:

This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. [Exit.

King. [Rising ^note]
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go. [Exit. ^note

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