Ham. He will stay till you come.

[Exeunt Attendants. King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,

Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
For that which thou hast done,-must send thee
hence

With fiery quickness: Therefore prepare thyself;
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,
The associates tend, and every thing is bent
For England.

Ham.

For England?

Ay, Hamlet.

Good.

King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. Ham. I see a cherub, that sees them.-But, come; for England!-Farewell, dear mother. King. Thy loving father, Hamlet.

Ham. My mother: Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England. [Exit. King. Follow him at foot: tempt him with speed aboard:

haste.

Delay it not, I'll have him hence to-night;
Away; for every thing is seal'd and done
That else leans on the affair: 'Pray you, make
[Exeunt Ros. and GUIL.
And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,
(As my great power thereof may give thee sense;
Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
Pays homage to us,) thou may'st not coldly set
Our sovereign process; which imports at full,
By letters conjuring to that effect,

The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For like the hectick in my blood he rages,
And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done,
Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. A Plain in Denmark.
Enter FORTINBRAS, and Forces, marching.
For. Go, captain, from me greet the Danish
king;

Tell him, that, by his licence, Fortinbras
Claims the conveyance of a promis'd march

Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.
If that his majesty would aught with us,
We shall express our duty in his eye.

And let him know so.

Cap.

For. Go softly on.

I will do't, my lord.

[Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Forces.

Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, &c. Ham. Good sir, whose powers are these? Cap. They are of Norway, sir.

Ham.

How purpos'd, sir,

Against some part of Poland.

Commands them, sir?

Who

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

Cap. Truly to speak, sir, and with no addition,
We go to gain a little patch of ground,
That hath in it no profit but the name.
To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
Nor will it yield to Norway, or the Pole,
A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.

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

[it. Ham. Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand ducats,

Will not debate the question of this straw: This is the imposthume of much wealth and

Ros.

peace;

That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
Why the man dies.-I humbly thank you, sir.
Cap. God be wi' you, sir. [Exit Captain.
Will't please you go, my lord?
Ham. I will be with you straight. Go a little
before.
[Exeunt Ros, and GUIL.
How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, he, that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before, and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be

Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,-
A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part
wisdom,

And, ever, three parts coward,-I do not know
Why yet I live to say, This thing's to do:

Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and

means,

To do't. Examples, gross as earth, exhort me:
Witness, this army of such mass, and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince;
Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,
Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Exposing what is mortal, and unsure,
To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great,
Is, not to stir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason, and my blood,
And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds: fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause.
Which is not tomb enough, and continent,
To hide the slain !-O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
[Exit.

SCENE V. Elsinore. A Room in the Castle.
Enter Queen and HORATIO.

Queen. I will not speak with her. Hor. She is importunate; indeed, distract; Her mood will needs be pitied.

Queen.

What would she have? Hor. She speaks much of her father; says,

she hears,

There's tricks i'the world; and hems, and beats

her heart;

Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,

That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped 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 gestures
yield them,

Indeed would make one think, there might be thought,

Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily. Queen. 'Twere good, she were spoken with; for she may strew

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds:
Let her come in.
[Exit HORATIO.
To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,

Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss:
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,

It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Re-enter HORATIO, with OPHELIA.

Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?

Queen. How now, Ophelia?

Oph. How should 1 your true love know,

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,
And his sandal shoon.

[Singing.

Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this

song?

Oph. Say you? nay; 'pray you, mark.
He is dead and gone, lady,

He is dead and gone;

At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.

Queen. Nay, but, Ophelia,-

O, ho!

Oph.

[Sings.

'Pray you, mark.

[Sings.

White his shroud as the mountain snow.

Enter King.

Queen. Alas, look here, my lord.
Oph. Larded all with sweet flowers;
Which bewept to the grave did go,
With true love showers.

King. How do you, pretty lady?

Oph. Well, God'ield you! They say, 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, say you this:

Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window,

To be your Valentine:

Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that 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 Saint Charity,
Alack, and fye for shame!

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

Quoth she, before you tumbled me,
You promised me to wed.
[He answers.]

So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.

King. How long hath she been thus ?

Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him i' the cold ground: My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies: good night, good night.

[Exit. King. Follow her close! give her good watch, I pray you. [Exit HORATIO. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: And now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude,

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions! First, her father slain;

Next, your son gone; and he most violent author Of his own just remove: The people muddied, Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,

For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,