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Laer. This nothing's more than matter. .
Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, reineinber; and there's pansics, that's for thoughts.
Laer. A document in madness, thoughts and re"membrance' fitted.
Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines ; there's rue for you, and here's fome for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays: you may wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy; I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died; they say he made a good end;
" For bonriy fiveet Robin is all ny joy."
" And will he not come again ?
“ Gramercy on his soul!” . And of all Christian souls! God b'w'ge.
[Exit Ophelia. Laer. Do you see this, you Gods?
King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right: go but a-part, Make choice of whom your wiselt friends you will, And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me; If by direct or by collateral hand They find us touched, we will our kingdom give, Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours, .