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. They say they have letters for you.   Hor. Let them come in.                                                [Exit Attendant.]     I do not know from what part of the world     I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.                            Enter Sailors.    Sailor. God bless you, sir.   Hor. Let him bless thee too.   Sailor. 'A shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for you,     sir,- it comes from th' ambassador that was bound for England- if     your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.   Hor. (reads the letter) 'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlook'd     this, give these fellows some means to the King. They have     letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of     very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too     slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I     boarded them. On the instant they got clear of our ship; so I     alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves     of mercy; but they knew what they did: I am to do a good turn for     them. Let the King have the letters I have sent, and repair thou     to me with as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. I have words     to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too     light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring     thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course     for England. Of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.                             'He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.'      Come, I will give you way for these your letters,     And do't the speedier that you may direct me     To him from whom you brought them.                   Exeunt.
ACT III. PROLOGUE.  Flourish. Enter CHORUS    CHORUS. Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies,     In motion of no less celerity     Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen     The well-appointed King at Hampton pier     Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet     With silken streamers the young Phorbus fanning.     Play with your fancies; and in them behold     Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;     Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give     To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden sails,     Borne with th' invisible and creeping wind,     Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea,     Breasting the lofty surge. O, do but think     You stand upon the rivage and behold     A city on th' inconstant billows dancing;     For so appears this fleet majestical,     Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow!     Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy     And leave your England as dead midnight still,     Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women,     Either past or not arriv'd to pith and puissance;     For who is he whose chin is but enrich'd     With one appearing hair that will not follow     These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?     Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege;     Behold the ordnance on their carriages,     With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.     Suppose th' ambassador from the French comes back;     Tells Harry that the King doth offer him     Katherine his daughter, and with her to dowry     Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.     The offer likes not; and the nimble gunner     With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,                                    [Alarum, and chambers go off]     And down goes all before them. Still be kind,     And eke out our performance with your mind.             Exit