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Narrator: Claudius and Voltemand talk very breifly about a war that was being prepared but Claudius isn't very interested in it and Voltemand leaves
My lord I will be brief: your noble son is mad. Mad call I it, to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
Mad let us grant him then. And now remains that we find out the cause of this effect, or rather say, the cause of this defect.
I went round to work, and thus my young mistress I did bespeak: That she should lock herself from his resort, admit no messengers, receive no token, then lord Hamlet went into the madness wherein now he raves and all we mourn for.
My Excellent good friends!!
My good lord!!!
Is't possible? How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
To think, my lord, what Lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you.
We'll ha't tomorrow night, I'll add and have them study a dozen to sixteen lines.
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