[The scene shows a room in the Castle of Elsinore. The QUEEN and MARCELLUS enter.]

She is importunate, indeed distract:
Her mood will needs be pitied.

She speaks much of her father, says she hears There's tricks i' the world, and hems and beats her heart,

'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may

strew

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.

Let her come in.

QUEEN.

(Exit MARCELLUS.)

(Aside.) To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss.

Re-enter MARCELLUS, with OPHELIA.

OPHELIA.

Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?

How now, Ophelia !

QUEEN

OPHELIA. (Sings.)

How should I your true love know

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff

And his sandal shoon.

QUEEN.

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.

Oh, oh!

QUEEN.

Nay, but, Ophelia,—

OPHELIA.

Pray you, mark.

(Sings.) White his shroud as the mountain snow,—

Enter KING.

QUEEN.

Alas, look here, my lord.

OPHELIA. (Sings.)

Larded with sweet flowers;
Which bewept to the grave did go

With true-love showers.

KING,

How do you, pretty lady?

OPHELIA.

Well, God 'ild you! They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table!

KING.

Conceit upon her father.

OPHELIA.

Pray you, let's have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, say you this: