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The associates tend, and every thing is bent
For England.

Ham. For England ?
King. Ay, Hamlet.
Ham. 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.

Hum. My mother: Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh: and so, my mother. Come, for England.

[Erit. 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 seald and done, That else leans on the affair ; Pray you, make haste.

[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 hectic in my blood he rages, And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done, Howe'er my laps, my joys will ne'er begin. [Exit.

SCENE IV.- A Plain in Denmark.

Enter FORTINBRAS, and Forces, marching.
For. Go, captain, froin me greet the Danish king ;
Tell him, that, by his licence, Fortinbras
Craves 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. I will do't, my lord.
For. Go softly on.

[Exeunt Fortinbras and Forces.

Enter Hamlet, RosencrANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, 8c.

Ham. Good sir, what powers are these?
Cap. They are of Norway, sir.

Ham. How purpos'd, sir,
I pray you?

Cap. Against some part of Poland.

Ham. Who Commands them, sir?

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 it.
Cap. Yes, 'tis already garrison'd.
Ham. Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand

ducats,
Will not debate the question of this straw :
This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace ;
That inward breaks, and shews no cause without
Why the man dies.—I humbly thank you, sir.
Cap. God be wi’you, sir.

[Exit Captain,
Ros. 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 ?-0, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! [Erit.

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, and OPHELIA.
Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
Queen. How now, Ophelia ?
Oph. How should I 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.

[Sings.

He is dead and gone, lady,

He is dead and gone ;
At his head a grass-green turf,

At his heels a stone.
O, ho!
Queen. Nay, but Ophelia,
Oph. Pray you, mark.

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