Why yet I live, to say, This thing's to do; means, b To do't. Examples, gross as earth, exhort me: [Exit. • Makes mouths at the invisible event] Scoffs at unknown fate, at the unseen issue. without great argument, but greatly, &c.] Without sufficient reason, but magnanimously, &c. Dr. Johnson says, the sentiment is partly just, and partly romantick. Rightly to be great, Is, not to stir without great argument ; is exactly philosophical. But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, When honour's at the stake, is the idea of a modern hero. But then, says he, honour is an argument, or subject of debate, sufficiently great, and when honour is at stake, we must find cause of quarrel in a straw. C reason and blood] Judgment and passions. See III. 2. Haml. trick of fame] Point of honour. SCENE V. Elsinore. A Room in the Castle. Enter Queen and HORATIO. QUEEN. -I will not speak with her. HOR. She is importunate; indeed, distract; Her mood will needs be pitied.(20) QUEEN. What would she have? HOR. She speaks much of her father; says, she hears, There's tricks i'the world; and hems, and beats her heart; Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing, The hearers to collection; (2) they aim at it, them, Indeed would make one think, there might be thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.(2 QUEEN. 'Twere good, she were spoken with; for she may strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds: enviously] With spleen and passion, as mad dogs snap at whatever they meet. speaks things in doubt] Without distinct or certain aim; wanderingly and incoherently. Let her come in. [Exit HORATIO. Το my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss:* So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt." Re-enter HORATIO, with OPHELIA. OPH. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark? QUEEN. How now, Ophelia? ОPH. How should I your true love know From another one? By his cockle hat and staff, (23) And his sandal shoon. [Singing. QUEEN. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song? OPH. Say you? nay, pray you, mark. a Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss] Toy is trifle: and amiss, in common use at that time for offence or abuse, here imports" evil impending or catastrophe." It spills itself in fearing to be spilt] Exposes and ruins itself by its over anxiety to stifle suspicion. • sandal shoon] "Socculus, a manner of shone." Ortus Vocabulor, 1514. White his shroud as the mountain-snow, [Sings. Enter King. QUEEN. Alas, look here, my lord. OPH. Larded all with sweet flowers; KING. How do you, pretty lady? OPH. Well, God'ield you." They say, the owl was a baker's daughter.(5) Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table! KING. Conceit upon her father." OPH. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you, what it means, say you this: To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,(26) Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes, KING. Pretty Ophelia ! • God'ield you] Requite; yield you recompence. See As you, &c. III. 3. Touchst. Conceit upon her father] Fancies respecting. See III. 4. Ghost. "Conceit in weakest minds." < don'd and dupp'd] Do on and do up. OPH. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't: (27) By Gis, and by Saint Charity," Alack, and fye for shame! Young men will do't, if they come to’t; (29) By cock, they are to blame. Quoth she, before you tumbled me, So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, KING. How long hath she been thus? OPH. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him i'the cold ground: My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies: good night, good night. [Exit. KING. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you. [Exit HORATIO. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: And now behold, O, Gertrude, Gertrude, When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions! First, her father slain; Next, your son gone; and he most violent author Of his own just remove: The people muddied, Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers, For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly, In hugger-mugger to inter him: (3) Poor Ophelia Divided from herself, and her fair judgment; Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts. Last, and as much containing as all these, |