Page 319 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

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 mayst not coldly set [65]
Our sovereign process, which imports at full,
By letters congruing 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, [70]
Howe’er my haps, my joys were ne’er begun.
Exit.

Scene IV IT

Enter Fortinbras with his Army [marching] over the stage.

FORTINBRAS
Go, captain, from 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, [5]
We shall express our duty in his eye;

And let him know so.

CAPTAIN
I will do’t, my lord.

FORTINBRAS
Go softly on.
Exeunt all [but the Captain].

Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, [Guildenstern], and Others.

HAMLET
Good sir, whose powers are these?