Hamlet. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,
Or for some frontier?
Captain. 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.
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 sold in fee.
Hamlet. Why, then the Polack never will defend it.
Captain. Yes, it is already garrisoned.
Hamlet. 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 shows no cause without
Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.
Captain. God be wi'you, sir. [Exit]