Good Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear father’s death, is’t writ in your revenge, That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and loser?

To his good friends thus wide I’ll ope my arms; And like the kind life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blood.

Why, now you speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your father’s death, And am most sensible in grief for it, It shall as level to your judgment pierce As day does to your eye.