Guildenstern.
King.
Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Ham.
At supper.
King.
At supper! Where?
Ham.
Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a
certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him.
Your worm is your only emperor for diet: 11Q1035 we fat all
creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots:
your fat king, and your lean beggar, is but
variable service; two dishes, but to one table: that's
the end.
King.
Alas, alas!
Ham.
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat
of a king; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that
worm1 note.
King.
What dost thou mean by this?
Ham.
Nothing, but to show you how a king may go
a progress through the guts of a beggar.
-- 299 --
King.
Where is Polonius?
Ham.
In heaven: send thither to see; if your messenger
find him not there, seek him i'the other place
yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this
month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into
the lobby.
King.
Go seek him there.
[To some Attendants.
Ham.
He will stay till you come.
[Exeunt Attendants.
King.
Hamlet, this deed2 note, for thine especial safety,—
Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
For that which thou hast done,—must send thee hence
With fiery quickness: therefore, prepare thyself.
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,
Th' 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 them3 note.—But, come;
for England!—Farewell, dear mother.
King.
Thy loving father, Hamlet.
Ham.
My mother: father and mother is man and
wife, man and wife is one flesh; and so, 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 seal'd and done,
That else leans on th' affair: pray you, make haste.
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
-- 300 --
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 conjuring4 note 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 haps, my joys were ne'er begun5 note.
[Exit.
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
