Ham. Q, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fye on't! O fye! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead!-nay, not so much, not two;
So excellent a king; that was, to this,

Hyperions to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem" the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on: And yet, within a month,—
Let me not think on't;-Frailty, thy name is woman!-
A little month; or ere those shoes were old,
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears ;-why she, even she,

i

O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer,-married with my uncle,
My father's brother; but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules: Within a month;
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

resolve-] The same as dissolve.

merely.] Is entirely, absolutely.

Hyperion-] All our English poets are guilty of the same false quantity, and call Hyperion, Hyperion. In the present instance Shakspeare has no allusion except to the beauty of Apollo, and its immediate opposite the deformity of a satyr.-STEEVENS.

h beteem-] i. e. Permit, or suffer.

discourse of reason,] It is proposed by Gifford, Massinger, vol. i. 149, to read "discourse and reason:" he says, "It is very difficult to determine the precise meaning which our ancestors gave to discourse, or to distinguish the line which separated it from reason. Perhaps it indicated a more rapid deduc tion of consequences from premises, than was supposed to be effected by reason: but I speak with hesitation. Whatever be the sense, it frequently appears in our old writers, by whom it is usually coupled with reason or judgment." "Discourse of reason" is so poor and perplexed a phrase, that I should dismiss it at once, for what I believe to be the genuine language of Shakspeare, discourse and reason."-I have not admitted his alteration because the phrase was, as Mr. Boswell has shown, in frequent use, and is found a second time in the works of our author himself, Troilus and Cressida, act ii. scene 2. Discourse of reason means the instruction or counsel of reason.

Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married:-O most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to, good;

But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue!

Enter HORATIO, BERNARDO, and MARCELLUS.

Hor. Hail to your lordship!

Ham.

I am glad to see you well: Horatio,—or I do forget myself.

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that namek . with you.

And what make you' from Wittenberg, Horatio?—
Marcellus?

Mar. My good lord,

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, sir,-
But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so:
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know, you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest" foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!My father, Methinks, I see my father.

k

m

-I'll change that name— -] I'll be your servant, you shall be my friend. -JOHNSON.

what make you-] A familiar phrase for what are you doing.-JOHNSON, the funeral bak'd meats-] It was anciently the general custom to give a cold entertainment to mourners at a funeral. In distant counties this practice is continued among the yeomanry.-MALONE.

· dearest—] i. e. Most immediate, consequential, important.

Hor.

My lord?

Where,

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My lord, the king your father.

Ham.

The king my father! Hor. Season' your admiration for a while With an attent ear; till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, This marvel to you.

Ham.

For God's love, let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,

In the dead waist and middle of the night,"

Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Arm'd at point, exactly, cap-à-pé,

Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk’d,
By their oppress'd and fear-surprized eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,"

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did;

And I with them, the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes: I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.

Ham.

But where was this?

Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.

q attent-] For attentive.

• Season-] That is, temper. a In the dead waist and middle of the night,] This strange phraseology seems to have been common in the time of Shakspeare. By waist is meant nothing more than middle; but dead wuste may be the true reading.-MALONE and STEEVENS.

r—with the act of fear,] Fear was the cause, the active cause that distill'd them by the force of operation which we strictly call act in voluntary, and power in involuntary agents, but popularly call act in both.-JOHNSON.

Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor.
My lord, I did:
But answer made it none: yet once, methought,

It lifted up its head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak :

But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.

Ham.

'Tis very strange. Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty,

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?

Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up."

Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor.

In sorrow than in anger.

Ham.

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham.

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham.

A countenance more

Pale, or red?

And fix'd his eyes upon you?

I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham.

Very like Stay'd it long?

Very like,

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hun

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I saw it.

[dred.

he wore his beaver up.] Though beaver properly signified that part of the helmet which was let down, to enable the wearer to drink, Shakspeare always uses the word as denoting that part of the helmet, which, when raised up, exposed the face of the wearer: and such was the popular signification of the word in his time.-MALONE.

Ham.

His beard was grizzl'd? no? Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Ham.

I will watch to-night;

Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Hor.

I warrant, it will.
Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: So, fare you well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All.

Our duty to your honour.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell.

[Exeunt HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO.

My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;

I doubt some foul play: 'would, the night were come! Till then sit still, my soul: Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

SCENE III.

A Room in Polonius' House.

Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA.

Laer. My necessaries are embark'd; farewell: And, sister, as the winds give benefit,

And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,

But let me hear from you.

Oph.

Do you doubt that?

Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,

Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood;

A violet in the youth of primy nature,

Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,

[Exit.