GUILDENSTERN

We both obey, And here give up our selves, in the full bent, To lay our Services freely at your feet, To be commanded. Heavens make our presence and our practises Pleasant and helpful to him. Faith, her privates, we. Prison, my Lord? Which dreams indeed are Ambition: for the very substance of the Ambitious, is merely the shadow of a Dream. What should we say my Lord? My Lord, we were sent for. There are the Players. hat my deer Lord? Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty Madness keeps aloof: When we would bring him on to some Confession Of his true state. Mine honoured Lord? Happy, in that we are not over-happy: on For tunes Cap, we are not the very Button. O there ha been much throwing about of Brains. But with much forcing of his disposition. Good my Lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. The King, sir. Is in his retirement, marvelous distempered. No my Lord, rather with choler. Good my Lord put your discourse into some frame, and start not so wildly from my affair. The Queen your Mother, in most great affli ction of spirit, hath sent me to you. Nay, good my Lord, this courtesy is not of the right breed. If it shall please you to make me a whole some answer, I will do your Mother's commandment: if not, your pardon, and my return shall be the end of my Business. What, my Lord? Oh my Lord, if my Duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly. My Lord, I cannot. Believe me, I cannot. I know no touch of it, my Lord. But these cannot I command to any utterance of hermony, I have not the skill. We will our selves provide: Most holy and Religious fear it is To keep those many many bodies safe That live and feed upon your Majesty. A thing my Lord?