"There will be room in thy heart for joy again, even if there is none today," Laertes says gently. "Until then, nourish thy body. If some little spark of pleasure comes to thee unbidden, some taste or note of music that kindles in thee, thou needst not fan it, but neither is it thy duty to quench it." He rises from his chair, and comes over to wrap his arms briefly around Lancelot's shoulders. "Be well, my friend. I'll come to thee each morning, and break my fast with thee, so that I can be sure thou hast at least one meal."