King. Go feek him there.

Ham. He will ftay 'till ye come.

King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine efpecial fafety,
(Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve.
For that which thou haft done) muft fend thee hence
With fiery quickness; then prepare thy self,
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,
Th' affociates tend, and every thing is bent
For England?

Ham. For England?

King. Ay, Hamlet.
Ham. Good.

King. So is it, if thou knew'it our purposes. Ham. I fee a Cherub that fees them; but come, for England! farewel, dear mother!

King. Thy loving father, Hamlet.

Ham. My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh, and fo my mother. Come, for England!

[Exit.

King. Follow him at foot, tempt him with speed aboard; Delay it not, I'll have him hence to-night,

Away, for every thing is feal'd and done

That elfe leans on th' affair; pray you make hafte.

[Exeunt Rofincroffe and Guildenstern.
And, England! if my love thou hold'ft at aught,
(As my great power thereof may give thee fenfe,
Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
After the Danish fword, and thy free awe
Pays homage to us) thou may'ft not coldly 'fet by`
Our fovereign procefs, which imports at full,
By letters congruing to that effect,

The prefent death of Hamlet. Do it, England:
For like the hectick in my blood he rages,
And thou muft cure me ;. 'till I know 'tis done,
How-c'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin.

3 fet

[Exit.

SCENE

For.

S

CENE

IV.

A Camp on the Frontiers of Denmark.

G

Enter Fortinbras with an Army.

O, captain, from me greet the Danish King,
Tell him that by his license, Fortinbras
Claims the conveyance of a promis'd march
Over his realm. You know the rendevouz.
If that his Majefty would aught with us,
We fhall exprefs our duty in his eye,
And let him know fo.

Capt. I will do't, my Lord.

For. Go foftly on.

[Exit Fortinbras, with the Army.

Enter Hamlet, Rofincroffe, &c.

Ham. Good Sir, whofe powers are these?
Capt. They are of Norway, Sir.
Ham. How purpos'd, Sir, I pray you?
Capt. Against fome part of Poland.
Ham. Who commands them, Sir?

Cap. The nephew of old Norway, Fortinbras.
Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, Sir,
Or for fome frontier?

Capt. Truly to fpeak it, and with no addition, We go to gain a little patch of ground

That hath in it no profit but the name.

Το pay

five ducats-five-I would not farm it, Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole

A ranker rate, fhould it be fold in fee.

Ham. Why then the Polack never will defend it.
Capt. Yes, 'tis already garrison'd.

Ham. Two thoufand fouls, and many thoufand ducats Will not debate the question of this ftraw;

This is th' impofthume of much wealth and peace,

4 twenty

That

That inward breaks, and fhews no caufe without
Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, Sir.
Capt. God b'w'ye, Sir.

Rof. Will't please you go, my Lord?
Ham. I'll be with you, go a little before.
Manet Hamlet.

How all occafions do inform against me,
And fpur my dull revenge! what is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to fleep and feed? a beaft, no more.
Sure he that made us with fuch large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and god-like reafon

To ruft in us unus'd. Now whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or fome craven scruple

Of thinking too precifely on th' event,

[Exeunt.

(A thought which quartered hath but one part wisdom, And ever three parts coward :) I do not know

Why yet I live to fay this thing's to do,

Sith I have caufe, and will, and ftrength, and means

To do't. Examples grofs as earth exhort me;
Witness this army of fuch mafs and charge

Led by a delicate and tender Prince,
Whofe fpirit with divine ambition puft
Makes mouths at the invifible event,
Expofing what is mortal and unfure
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
Ev'n for an egg-fhell. 'Tis not to be great,
Never to ftir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,

When honour's at the ftake. How ftand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother ftain'd,
(Excitements of my reafon and my blood)
And let all fleep, while to my fhame I fee
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That for a fantasie and trick of fame
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a spot

Whercon

Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the flain? O then from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

SCENE V.

A Palace.

Enter Queen, and a Gentleman.

Queen. I Will not speak with her.

Gent. She is importunate,

Indeed distract; her mood will needs be pitied.
Queen. What would fhe have?

[Exit.

Gent. She fpeaks much of her father; fays fhe hears There's tricks i'th' world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurns enviously at ftraws, fpeaks things in doubt That carry but half fenfe: her speech is nothing, Yet the unfhaped use of it doth move

The hearers to collection; they aim at it,

And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts,
Which as her winks, and nods, and geftures yield them,
Indeed would make one think there might be thought;
Though nothing fure, yet much unhappily.
""Twere good the were spoken with, for the may ftrew
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.

Queen. Let her come in →→

To my fick foul, as fin's true nature is,

Each toy feems prologue to fome great amiss;
So full of artlefs jealoufie is guilt,

It spills it felf in fearing to be fpilt.

Enter Ophelia diftrafted.

[Exit Gent.

Oph. Where is the beauteous Majefty of Denmark?

VOL. VI.

Cc

5 Enter Queen, Horatio and a Gentleman.

Queen

6 Hor. 'Twere good fhe were spoken with, for fhe may strew

Dangerous conjectures in ill breeding minds.

Let her come in

Queen. To my fick foul, &c.

Queen. How now, Ophelia?

Oph. How Should I your true love know from another one? By his cockle bat and staff, and his fandal fhoon. [Singing. Queen. Alas, fweet Lady; what imports this fong? Oph. Say you? nay, pray you mark.

He's dead and gone, Lady, he's dead and gone,
At his head a grass-green turf, at his heels a flone.

Enter King.

Queen. Nay, but Ophelia.

Oph. Pray you mark.

White his froud as the mountain fnow.
Queen. Alas, look here, my Lord.
Oph. Larded with fweet flowers:

Which bewept to the grave did go,
With true-love fhowers.

King. How do ye, pretty Lady?

Oph. Well, Godild you. They fay the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table! King. Conceit upon her father.

Oph. Pray let us have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, fay you this:

To-morrow is St. Valentine's day, all in the morn betime,
And I a maid at your window, to be your Valentine.

Then up be rofe, and don'd his cloaths, and 'op'd the chamber-door ;

81

Let in a maid, but out a maid never departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia!

Oph. Indeed? without an oath, I'll make an end on't.

By Gis, and by S. Charity;
Alack, and fie for shame,

Young men will do't, if they come to'l,
By cock they are to blame.

7 dupt... old edit. Warb. emend. d'opt i. e. do the maid, that

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open.