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Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's deathThe memory be green, and that it us befittedTo bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdomTo be contracted in one brow of woe;Yet so far hath discretion fought with natureThat we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves.Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, Th'imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy, With one auspicious and one dropping eye, With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole, Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr'dYour better wisdoms, which have freely goneWith this affair along. For all, our thanks.Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother's deathOur state to be disjoint and out of frame, Colleagued with this dream of his advantage, He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, Importing the surrender of those landsLost by his father, with all bonds of law, To our most valiant brother. So much for him.Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: Thus much the business is: we have here writTo Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras, Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hearsOf this his nephew's purpose, to suppressHis further gait herein; in that the levies, The lists, and full proportions are all madeOut of his subject: and we here dispatchYou, good Cornelius, and yo

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