Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

But come;

Here, as before, never, so help you mercy!
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet
To put an antick disposition on,-

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, As, Well, well, we know ;—or, We could, an if we would;-or, If we list to speak;—or, There be, an if they might ;

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note

That you know aught of me:-This not to do, swear 22;

So

grace and mercy at your most need help you! Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit 23! So,gentlemen,

22 The quarto 1604 reads-' this do swear.' The construction of this passage is rather embarrassed, but the sense is sufficiently obvious without explanation.

23 Shakspeare has riveted our attention to the ghost by a succession of forcible circumstances:-by the previous report of the terrified sentinels,-by the solemnity of the hour at which the phantom walks,-by its martial stride and discriminating armour, visible only per incertam lunam, by the glimpses of the moon, by its long taciturnity, by its preparation to speak, when interrupted by the morning cock,-by its mysterious reserve throughout its first scene with Hamlet,-by his resolute departure with it, and the subsequent anxiety of his attendants, -by its conducting him to a solitary angle of the platform, by its voice from beneath the earth, and by its unexpected burst on us in the closet. Hamlet's late interview with the spectre must in particular be regarded as a stroke of dramatic artifice. The phantom might have told his story in the presence of the officers and Horatio, and yet have rendered itself as inaudible to them as it afterwards did to the queen. But suspense was the poet's object; and never was it more effectually created than in the present instance. Six times has the royal semblance appeared, but till now has been withheld from speaking. For this event we have waited with impatient curiosity, unaccompanied by lassitude, or remitted attention.'-Steevens.

With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is

May do, to express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.

The time is out of joint;-O cursed spite!
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay, come, let's go together.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. A Room in Polonius' House.

Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO.

Pol. Give him this money, and these notes, Reynaldo.

Rey. I will, my lord.

Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Rey

naldo,

Before you visit him, to make inquiry

Of his behaviour.

Rey.

My lord, I did intend it.

Pol. Marry, well said: very well said. Look you, sir,

Inquire me first what Danskers1 are in Paris;
And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,
What company, at what expense; and finding,
By this encompassment and drift of question,
That they do know my son, come you more nearer
Than your particular demands will touch it:
Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;

1 i. e. Danes. Warner, in his Albion's England, calls Denmark Danske.

As thus, I know his father, and his friends,

And, in part, him ;-Do you mark this, Reynaldo? Rey, Ay, very well, my lord.

Pol. And, in part, him;—but, you may say, not well:

But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild;

Addicted so and so ;--and there put on him
What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank
As may dishonour him; take heed of that;
But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips,
As are companions noted and most known
To youth and liberty.

Rey.

As gaming, my lord. Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling,

Drabbing:-You may go so far.

Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him.

Pol. 'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge. You must not put another scandal on him,

That he is open to incontinency;

That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly,

That they may seem the taints of liberty;

The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind;

A savageness3 in unreclaimed blood,

Of general assault.

Rey.

But, my good lord,

Pol. Wherefore should you do this?

Rey.

I would know that.

Pol.

Ay, my lord,

2 The cunning of fencers is now applied to quarrelling: they thinke themselves no men, if for stirring of a straw, they prove not their valure uppon some bodies fleshe.'-Gosson's Schole of Abuse, 1579.

3A wildness of untamed blood, such as youth is generally assailed by.'

And, I believe, it is a fetch of warrant:
You laying these slight sullies on my son,
As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'the working,
Mark you,

Your party in converse, him you would sound,
Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes,
The youth you breathe of, guilty, be assur'd,
He closes with you in this consequence;
Good sir, or so; or friend, or gentleman,—
According to the phrase, or the addition,
Of man, and country.

Rey.

Very good, my lord. Pol. And then, sir, does he this,—He does— What was I about to say?-By the mass, I was about to say something:-Where did I leave? Rey. At, closes in the consequence.

Pol. At, closes in the consequence,—Ay, marry ; He closes with you thus:-I know the gentleman ; I saw him yesterday, or t'other day,

Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, There was he gaming; there o'ertook in his rouse; There falling out at tennis: or, perchance,

I saw him enter such a house of sale (Videlicit, a brothel), or so forth.

See you now;

of truth:

Your bait of falsehood takes this carp
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
With windlaces, and with assays of bias 5,
By indirections find directions out;
So, by my former lecture and advice,
Shall you my son: You have me, have
Rey. My lord, I have.

you not?

4 So, for so forth, as in the last act:-'Six French rapiers and poniards with their assigns, as girdle, hanger, and so.'

i. e. by tortuous devices and side essays. To assay, or rather essay, of the French word essayer, tentare,' says Baret.

Pol.

God be wi' you; fare you well.

Rey. Good my lord,

Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself".

Rey. I shall, my lord.

Pol. And let him ply his musick.

Rey.

Well, my lord.

[Exit.

Enter OPHELIA.

Pol. Farewell!-How now, Ophelia? what's the matter?

Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

Pol. With what, in the name of heaven?

Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet,—with his doublet all unbrac'd; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport,

As if he had been loosed out of hell,

To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
Pol. Mad for thy love?

Oph.

But, truly, I do fear it.

Pol.

My lord, I do not know;

What said he?

Oph. He took me by the wrist, and held me hard; Then goes he to the length of all his arm ;

And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face,
As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;
At last,—a little shaking of mine arm,

And thrice his head thus waving up and down,

6 i. e. in your own person, personally add your own observations of his conduct to these inquiries respecting him.

7 Hanging down like the loose cincture which confines the fetters or gyves round the ancles.