Ham. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and
outstretch'd
heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to th' court? for, by
my
fay, I cannot reason.
Both. We'll wait upon you.
Ham. No such matter! I will not sort you with the rest of my
servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most
dreadfully attended. But in the beaten way of friendship,
what
make you at Elsinore?
Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.
Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank
you;
and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny.
Were
you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free
visitation? Come, deal justly with me. Come, come! Nay,
speak.
Guil. What should we say, my lord?
Ham. Why, anything- but to th' purpose. You were sent for; and
there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your
modesties
have not craft enough to colour. I know the good King and
Queen
have sent for you.
Ros. To what end, my lord?
Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you by the
rights
of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the
obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear
a
better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct
with
me, whether you were sent for or no.
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