[Closed Post: In Search of Knowledge]

Today, Laertes is looking for books of music. When he'd been a boy in Elsinore, he'd learned to play the recorder at the jester Yorick's knee, and in the flower of his youth he'd taken up the flute and the viol with all the zeal of a young man with no other expression for his passions. In France, he'd played less--only now and then, when conversation lapsed, to delight and ease his friends or to impress a pretty girl whom he had no intention of courting--but there was a kind of quiet joy in doing something well that he now recognizes as the hallmark of his soul.

Speaking with Sagramore has quickened that long-sleeping hunger for music, and now he runs his thumb over the books in the library, searching for songs.