HORATIO [Reads.] Let the King have the letters I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much speed as thou wouldest 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.) (4.6.21-31)
Hamlet’s got it all worked out, but he’s not giving much away in this letter: Let the King have the letters I have sent—which the sailors/pirates have, so come up with a way for them to get the letters to him (Hamlet isn’t asking Horatio to do this himself, or at least not explicitly; he’s carefully keeping some distance between Horatio and Claudius)—and then repair thou to me with as much speed as thou wouldest fly death. Once you’ve got that sorted, come to me with all possible speed—because this is a matter of life and death, is the implication. I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb, you won’t believe it, you’ll be lost for words when I tell you what’s been going on—yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. It’s an interesting metaphor, words as bullets of too small a calibre for a particular gun; the point is, my news, my story is so big, I can barely find the right words to tell it! (A collocation, again, around words, weapons, and ears, words that wound, that penetrate the body.) These good fellows will bring thee where I am; trust them, go with the nice pirates. And then—because we’d forgotten about them, hadn’t we?—Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England. Oh yes, what’s going on there? Of them I have much to tell thee. But not that I can put in writing. Farewell. He that thou knowest thine. Hamlet. It’s an affectionate sign-off, a reminder and a reinforcement of the intimacy and trust between Horatio and Hamlet, and it’s wittier, too, than just ‘your Hamlet’.
Horatio’s on to it straight away. Come. I will give you way for these your letters, I know how to arrange that. And I will do’t the speedier that you may direct me to him from whom you brought them. I’ll be all the more quick about it so that we can get on to the next stage—you taking me to Hamlet.
