With true-love showers.
King. How do you, pretty lady?
Oph. Well, Heaven 'ield you!
(Crosses to the KING.)
They say the owl was a baker's daughter. We know
what we are, but know not what we may be.
King. Conceit upon her father.
Oph. Pray, you, let us have no words of this; but when
they ask you what it means, say you this:
To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I, a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine:
King. Pretty Ophelia!
Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.
[Crosses to R.H.]
King. (L.) How long hath she been thus?
Oph. (R.) I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him i'the cold ground. My brother shall know of it; and so I thank you for your good counsel.
Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies; good night, good night.
[Exit, R.C.]
King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.
[Exit HORATIO, through centre R.]
O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
All from her father's death.
O, Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions!
Enter MARCELLUS (R. centre.)
King. What is the matter?
Mar. Save yourself, my lord:
The young Laertes, in a riotous head,
King. How do you, pretty lady?
Oph. Well, Heaven 'ield you!
(Crosses to the KING.)
They say the owl was a baker's daughter. We know
what we are, but know not what we may be.
King. Conceit upon her father.
Oph. Pray, you, let us have no words of this; but when
they ask you what it means, say you this:
To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I, a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine:
King. Pretty Ophelia!
Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.
[Crosses to R.H.]
King. (L.) How long hath she been thus?
Oph. (R.) I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him i'the cold ground. My brother shall know of it; and so I thank you for your good counsel.
Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies; good night, good night.
[Exit, R.C.]
King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.
[Exit HORATIO, through centre R.]
O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
All from her father's death.
O, Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions!
Enter MARCELLUS (R. centre.)
King. What is the matter?
Mar. Save yourself, my lord:
The young Laertes, in a riotous head,
