Laer. Let this be so.
His means of death, his obscure funeral-
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,
No noble rite nor formal ostentation,-
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,
That I must call't in question.
King. So you shall;
And where th' offence is let the great axe fall.
I pray you go with me.
Exeunt
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Scene VI.
Elsinore. Another room in the Castle.
Enter Horatio with an Attendant.
Hor. What are they that would speak with me?
Servant. Seafaring men, sir.
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