Читать книгу Hamlet. Macbeth / Гамлет. Макбет онлайн

Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress

His further gait herein; in that the levies,

The lists, and full proportions are all made

Out of his subject: and we here dispatch

You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,

For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,

Giving to you no further personal power

To business with the King, more than the scope

Of these dilated articles allow.

Farewell; and let your haste commend your

                         duty.

Cornelius and Voltemand

In that, and all things, will we show our duty.

King

We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.

[Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius]

And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?

You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,

And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg,

                         Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

The head is not more native to the heart,

The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

Laertes

Dread my lord,

Your leave and favour to return to France,

From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

To show my duty in your coronation;

Yet now I must confess, that duty done,

My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,

And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

King

Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

Polonius

He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave

By laboursome petition; and at last

Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent.

I do beseech you give him leave to go.

King

Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,

And thy best graces spend it at thy will!

But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son —

Hamlet

[Aside]

A little more than kin, and less than kind.

King

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Hamlet

Not so, my lord, I am too much i' the sun.

Queen

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou know'st 'tis common, all that lives must die,

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