GERTRUDE: But it was not long before her garments, heavy with water, pulled the poor wretched girl from her song...
to a muddy death.
LAERTES: Then she is drowned.
GERTRUDE: Drowned, drowned!
LAERTES: You’ve had too much water already, poor Ophelia, so I’ll hold back my tears.
And yet, to cry is in our nature, and Nature will not be swayed, even by shame.
Farewell, my lord. I’d make a fiery speech, but . . .
CLAUDIUS: Let’s follow, Gertrude. I had to do so much to calm his rage! Now I fear this will get him started again. So let’s follow.