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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Quarto 2, 1604)

    The Tragedie of Hamlet
    through the guts of a begger.
    King. Where is Polonius?
    2695Ham. In heauen, send thether to see, if your messenger finde him
    not thrre, seeke him i'th other place your selfe, but if indeed you find
    him not within this month, you shall nose him as you goe vp the
    stayres into the Lobby.
    King. Goe seeke him there.
    2700Ham. A will stay till you come.
    King. Hamlet this deede for thine especiall safety
    Which we do tender, as we deerely grieue
    For that which thou hast done, must send thee hence.
    Therefore prepare thy selfe,
    2705The Barck is ready, and the wind at helpe,
    Th'associats tend, and euery thing is bent
    For England.
    Ham. For England.
    King. I Hamlet.
    2710Ham. Good.
    King. So is it if thou knew'st our purposes.
    Ham. I see a Cherub that sees thē, but come for England,
    Farewell deere Mother.
    King. Thy louing Father Hamlet.
    2715Ham. My mother, Father and Mother is man and wife,
    Man and wife is one flesh, so my mother:
    Come for England.
    King. Follow him at foote,
    Tempt him with speede abord,
    2720Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night.
    Away, for euery thing is seald and done
    That els leanes on th'affayre, pray you make hast,
    And England, if my loue thou hold'st at ought,
    As my great power thereof may giue thee sence,
    2725Since yet thy Cicatrice lookes raw and red,
    After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
    Payes homage to vs, thou mayst not coldly set
    Our soueraigne processe, which imports at full
    By Letters congruing to that effect
    2730The present death of Hamlet, doe it England,
    For like the Hectique in my blood he rages,