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HORATIO She is importunate, indeed distract2: Her mood will needs be pitied.
GERTRUDE What would she have?
HORATIO She speaks much of her father; says she hears There's tricks i'th'world, and hems6, and beats her heart, Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in doubt7
That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,
Yet the unshaped use9 of it doth move The hearers to collection; they aim10 at it, And botch11 the words up fit to their own thoughts, Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield12 them, Indeed would make one think there might be thought13, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily14.
GERTRUDE 'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding16 minds.
Let her come in.
Horatio goes to the door or may exit
Aside
To my sick soul -- as sin's true nature is --
Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss19: So full of artless jealousy20 is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt21.
Enter Ophelia, distracted
With Horatio?
OPHELIA Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
GERTRUDE How now, Ophelia!
Sings
OPHELIA How should I your true love know
From another one?
By his cockle hat26 and staff, And his sandal shoon27.
GERTRUDE Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
OPHELIA Say you? Nay, pray you, mark.
Sings
He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone.
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.
Enter King
GERTRUDE Nay, but, Ophelia--
OPHELIA Pray you, mark.
Sings
