Sivut kuvina

No, lec the candied tongue lick absurd Pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice,
And could of men distinguish, her election
Hath feald thee for her self. For thou haft been
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing :
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards
Haft ta'en with equal thanks. And bleft are those,
Whose blood and judgment are so well comingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger,
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man,
That is not paffion's save, and I will wear him
In my heart's core: ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee. Something too much of this.
There is a Play to night before the King,
One Scene of it comes near the circumstance,
Which I have told thee, of my father's death,
I pr’ythee, when thou seest that Act a-foot,
Ev'n with the very comment of thy foul
Observe mine uncle: if his occult guilt
Do not ir self unkennel in one speech,
It is a damned Ghost that we have seen :
And my imaginations are as foul (37)
As Vulcan’s Smithy. Give him heedful note ;
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face ;
And, after, we will both our judgments join,
In cenfure of his Seeming.

Hor. Well, my lord.
If he steal aught, the whilst this Play is playing,
And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

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(37) And my Imaginations are as foul,

As Vulcan's Stithy. I have ventur'd, against the Authority of all the Copies, to fubftitute Smithy here. I have given my Reasons in the 40th Note on Troilus, to which, for Brevity's fake, I beg Leave to refer the Readers.

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Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrantz, Guil

denstern, and other lords attendant, with a guard carrying torcher. Danish March. Sound a flourish,

Ham. They're coming to the Play'; I must be idle. Get you a

you a place.
King. How fares our cousin Hamlet?

Ham. Excellent, j'faith, of the camelion's dish : I eat the air, promise-cramm’d: you cannot feed capons fo.

King. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words are not mine.

Ham. No, nor mine. Now, my lord; you plaid once i'th' university, you say? :: [To Polonius.

Pcl. That I did, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.

Ham. And what did you enact ?

Pol. I did enact Julius Cæfar, I was kill'd i'th? Capitol : Brutus kill'd me. ::

Ham. It was a brute part of him, to kill so capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

Rof. Ay, my lord, they stay upon your patience.
Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me,
Ham. No, good mother, here's mettle more attractive.
Pol. Oh ho, do you mark that?
Ham. Lady, shall I lye in your laptc.

[Lying down at Ophelia's feet.
Opb. No, my lord.
Ham. I mean, my Head upon your Lap?
Opb. Ay, my Lord.
Ham. Do you think, I meant country macters ?
Opb. I think nothing, my lord.
Ham. That's a fair thought, to lie between a inaid's legs,
Oph. What is, my lord?
Ham, Nothing: gizwa
Opb. You are merry, my lord.
Ham. Who, I?
Oph. Ay, my lord. .

Ham. Oh God! your only jig-maker ; what should a man do, but be merry ? For, look you, how chearfully


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my mother looks, and my father dy'd within these two hours.

Oph. Nay, 'cis twice two months, my lord.

Ham. So long? nay, then let "the Devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of fables. Oh heav'ns! dye two months ago, and not forgotten yet! then there's hope, a Great man's memory may out-live his life balf a year : but, by'r-lady, he must build churches then ; or else hall he suffer not thinking on,' with the hobby-horse

' ; whose epitaph is, For: oh, for.ob, the bobby-horje is forgot.

Hautboys play." The dumb shew enters. ** (38) Enter a Duke and Dutchess, with regal Coronels, very

lovingly ; the Dutchefs embracing him, and be ber. She kneels; be takes her up, and declines his bead upon her neck; He lays him down upon a bank of flowers ; she seeing him asleep, leaves him." Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his Crown, kisses it, and pours poison in ihe Duke's-ears, and Exit: The Dutchefs returns, finds the Duke dead, and makes passionate aktion. The poisoner, with some two-or three inutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The poisoner wooes the Dutchess with gifts ; she seems loth and unwilling a while, but in the end accepts his love,

[Exeunt. Oph. What means this, my lord ?

Ham. Marry, this is miching Malicho; it means inif chief.

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(38) Enter a King and Queen very lovingly :) Thus have the blundering and inadvertent Editors all along given us this Stage-Direction, tho' we are expressly told by Hamlet anon, that the Story of this introduced Interlude is the Murther of Gonzago Duke of Vienna. The Source of this Mistake is easily to be accounted for, from the Stage's dresing the Characters. Regal Coronets being at first order'd by the Poet for the Duke and Dutchess, the succeeding Players, who did not strictly observe the Quality of the Persons or Circumstances of the Story, mistook 'em for a King and Queen ; and fo the "Error was deduced down from thence to the present Times. Methinks, Mr, Pope might have indulgʻd his private Sense in fo obvious a Mifake, without any Fear of Rashness being imputed to him for the arbitrary Correction!

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Oph. Belike, this shew imports the Argument of the Play?

Enter Prologue.

Ham. We shall know by this fellow: the Players cannot keep counsel, they'll cell all.

Oph. Will he tell us, what this shew meant ?

Ham. Ay, or any shew that you'll shew him. Be not you ashamed to shew, he'll not shame to tell you what it


Opb. You are naught, you are naught, I'll mark the
Prol. For us, and for our tragedy,

Here stooping to your clemency,
We beg your bearing patiently.

Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posie of a ring?
Oph. 'Tis brief, my lord,
Ham. As woman's love,

Enter Duke, and Dutchess, Players.
Duke. Full thirty times hath Pbæbuso Carr gone round
Neptune's sale wash, and Tellus' orbed ground;
And thirty dozen moons with borrowed sheen
About the world have time twelve thirties been,
Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands,
Unite commutual, in most sacred bands.

Dutch. So many journeys may the Sun and Moon
Make us again count o'er, ere love be done.
But woe is me, you are so sick of late,
So far from cheer and from your former state,
That I distrust you ; yet though I distrust,
Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:
For women fear too much, ev'n as they love.
And womens fear and love hold quantity;
Tis either none, or in extremity,


Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know;
And as my love is siz’d, my fear is so. (39)
Where love is great, the smallest doubts are fear;
Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

Duke. Faith, I must leave thee, Love, and shortly too:
My operant powers their functions leave to do,
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour'd, belov'd ; and, haply, one as kind
For husband shalt thou

Dutch, Oh, confound the rest!
Such love must needs be treason in my breaft:
In second husband let me be accurst!
None wed the second, but who kill the first.

Ham. Wormwood, wormwood !

Dutch. The instances, that second marriage move,
Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
A second time I kill my husband dead,
When second husband kisses me in bed.

Duke, I do believe, you think what now you speak;
But what we do determine, oft we break :
Purpose is but the Nave to memory, :
Of violent birth, but poor validity :
Which now, like fruits unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fall unshaken, when they mellow be.
Moft neceffary 'tis, that we forget
To pay our felves what to our selves is debt :
What to our selves in passion we propose,
The passion ending, doch the purpose lose ;
The violence of either grief or joy,
Their own enactors with themselves destroy:

(39) And as my Love is fix’d, my Fear is fo.] Mr. Pope says, I read Jiz'd; and, indeed, I do fo: because, I observe, the Quarto of 1605 reads, ciz'd; that of 1611 cizft; the Folio in 1632, fiz; and that in 1623, fiz'd: and because, belides, the whole Tenour of the Context demands this Reading. For the Lady evidently is talking here of the Quantity and Proportion of her Love and Fear, not of their Continuance, Duration, or Stability. Cleopatra expresses herself much in the same Manner, with regard to her Grief for the Loss of Antony..

our Size of Sorrow, Proportion’d to our Cause, must be as great As that which makes it,


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