1 For look where my abridgement comes.
2 Not where he eats, but where he is eaten.
3 My lord, upon the platform where we watch.
4 These good fellows will bring thee where I am.
5 And where th'offence is let the great axe fall.
6 But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
7 Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
8 Look, where he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's eyes.
9 My lord, you must tell us where the body is and go with us to the King.
10 Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence, And bear it to the chapel.'
11 His antique sword, Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, Repugnant to command.
12 If she find him not, To England send him; or confine him where Your wisdom best shall think.
13 Twas Aeneas' tale to Dido, and thereabout of it especially where he speaks of Priam's slaughter.
14 But orderly to end where I begun, Our wills and fates do so contrary run That our devices still are overthrown.
15 Look you, sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, What company, at what expense; and finding By this encompassment and drift of question, That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it.
16 The other motive, Why to a public count I might not go, Is the great love the general gender bear him, Who, dipping all his faults in their affection, Would like the spring that turneth wood to stone, Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows, Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind, Would have reverted to my bow again, And not where I had aim'd them.