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SCENE IV.

A Plain in Denmark.

Enter FOR INBRAS and Forces marching. Fortinbras. Go, Captain; from me greet the Danish King:

Tell him that, by his license, 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.

Captain.
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.

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

Cap. Truly to speak, 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, 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 th' 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 b' wi' you, sir.

Ros.

[Exit Captain.

Will 't please you go, my lord? Ham. I'll be with you straight, Go a little be

fore.

[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and Guildenstern.
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 th' event,

A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wis

dom,

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'th' 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. [Aside.] 'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. [To HOR.] 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.

HORATIO returns with 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."

[Sings.

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,

Oph.

[Sings.

Pray you, mark. [Sings.

"White his shroud as the mountain snow,"

Enter King.

Queen. Alas! look here, my lord.

Oph.

[Sings.

"Larded with sweet flowers;

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

King. How do you, pretty lady?
Oph. Well, God 'ild 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 you, let's have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, say you this: [Sings. "To-morrow is 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 donn'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, la! without an oath, I'll make an

end on't:

"By Gis, and by Saint Charity,

Alack, and fie for shame!

[Sings.

Young men will do't, if they come to't;

By cock, they are to blame.

Quoth she, before you tumbled me,

You promis'd 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 pa

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