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Enter Rofincrantz,

How now? what hath befall'n?

Rof. Where the dead body is bestow'd, my Lord, We cannot get from him.

King. But where is he?

Rof. Without my Lord, guarded, to know your pleasure..

King. Bring him before us.

Rof. Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my Lord.

Enter Hamlet, and Guildenstern.

King. Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Ham. At fupper.

King. At fupper? where?

Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten; a certain convocation of politique worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only Emperor for diet. We fat all creatures elfe to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat King and your lean beggar is but variable service, two difhes but to one table. That's the end.

King. Alas, alas!

Ham. A man may fish with the worm that bath eat of a King, eat of the fish that had fed of that worm. King. What doth thou mean by this?

Ham. Nothing, but to fhow you how a King may go a progrefs through the guts of a beggar. King. Where is Polonius?

Ham. In heav'n, fend thither to fee. If your meffenger find him not there, feek him i' th' other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you fhall nofe him as you go up the ftairs into the lobby.

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King. Go feek him there.

Ham. He will ftay 'till ye come."

King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial fafety, Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve

For that which thou haft down, muft fend thee hence
With fiery quicknefs; therefore prepare thyself;
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'ft 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 Rof. and Guild. And, England! if my love thou hold'st 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

2

Pays homage to us; thou may'ft not coldly fet by Our fovereign procefs, which imports at full,

the wind at help,] I fup

pose it should be read,
The bark is ready, and the
swind at helm.

-Set by

Our fovereign process,] So Hanmer. The others have only fet.

By

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By letters conjuring to that effect,

The prefent 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,
3 Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin. [Exit.

For.

SCENE

IV.

A Camp, on the Frontiers of Denmark.

Enter Fortinbras, with an Army.

GO, Captain, from me greet the Danish

King,

Tell him, that, by his licenfe, Fortinbras
Claims the conveyance of a promis'd March
Over his Realm. You know the rendezvous.
If that his Majefty would aught with us,
We shall exprefs our duty in his eye,
And let him know fo.

Cap. I will do't, my Lord.

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For. Go foftly on. [Exit Fortinbras with the Army.

Enter Hamlet, Rofincrantz, Guildenstern, &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?

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

3 Howe'er my bap, my joys will

ne'er begin.] This being the termination of a fcene, fhould, according to our authour's cuf 6

tom, be rhymed. Perhaps he

wrote,

Horve'er my hopes, my joys are not begun.

Capt.

Capt. Truly to Speak it, and with no addition,
We go to gain a little patch of ground,bus
That bath 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 fold in fee.

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

Ham. Two thousand fouls, and twenty thousand ducats,

Will not abate the question of this straw;

This is th' impofthume of much wealth and peace,
That inward breaks, and fhews no cause 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 ftrait. 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 beast, no more.
Sure, he that, made us with fuch 5 large difcourfe,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and god-like reafon

To fuft in us unus'd. Now whether it be
Beftial oblivion, or fome craven fcruple

Of thinking too precifely on th' event,

[Exeunt.

A thought, which, quarter'd, bath but one part wisdom, And ever three parts coward, I do not know

4 chief good and market-] If his highest good, and that for which he fells his time, be to fleep and feed.

5 large difcourfe,] Such latitude of comprehenfion, fuch power of reviewing the past, and anticipating the future.

Why

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

6

Sith I bave caufe, and will, and strength, 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 invisible event;
Expofing what is mortal and unfure
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
Ev'n for an egg-fhell. Rightly to be great,
Is not to ftir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When Honour's at the take. 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 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 flain? O, then, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth.

6-Rightly to be great,

Is not to flir without, &c.] This paffage I have printed according to the copy. Mr. Theobald had regulated it thus,

Tis not to be great, Never to fir without great argument; But greatly, &c. The fentiment of Shakespeare is partly juft, and partly romantick. Rightly to be great,

Is not to fir without great argument,

is exactly philofophical.

[Exit.

But greatly to find quarrel in a
Araw,

When honour is at flake,
is the idea of a modern hero.
But then, fays he honour is an
argument, or fubject of debate,
Jufficiently great, and when ho-
nour is at stake, we must find
cause of quarrel in a straw.

7 Excitements of my reafon and my blood, Provocations which excite both my reason and my paffions to vengeance.

SCENE

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