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Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married :-0 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 !

Hor. Hail to your lordship!

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.

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

what make your) 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.


My lord ?

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.

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

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, distillid
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's, 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.

But where was this? Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch’d.

• Season—] That is, temper.

-attent-] For attentive. 9 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.

- with the act of fear,] Fear was the cause, the active cause that distilld 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?

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.

'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?

We do, my lord.
Ham. Arm'd say you?



lord. Ham.

From top to toe? All. My lord, from head to foot. Ham.

Then saw you not His face?

Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up."
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

A countenance more
In-sorrow than in anger.

Pale, or red?
Hor. Nay, very pale.

And fix'd his eyes upon you?
Hor. Most constantly.

I would I had been there.
Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Very like,
Very like : Stay'd it long ?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hunMar. Ber. Longer, longer.

[dred. Hor. Not when I saw it.

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.


His beard was grizzld ? no?
Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,
A sable silver'd.

I will watch to-night;
Perchance, 'twill walk again.

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.

Qur duty to your honour.
Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell.


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.



A Room in Polonius' House,

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.

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,

The pérfume and suppliance of a minute ;'
No more.

Oph. No more but so?

Think it no more :
For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
In thews," and bulk; but, as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now;
And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch
The virtue of his will :* but, you must fear,
His greatness weigh’d, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth :
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choíce depends
The safety and the health of the whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body,
Whereof he is the head : Then if he says, he loves you,
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it,
As he in his particular act and place
May give his saying deed ; which is no further,
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
If with too credent ear you

list his songs;
Or lose your heart; or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster’dy importunity.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon :
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes :

+ The perfume and suppliance of a minute ;] i. e. What was supplied to us for a minute; or, as M. Mason supposes, an amusement to fill up a vacant mo. ment, and render it agreeable."-STEEVENS.

a In thews,] i. e. In sinews, muscular strength. * And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch

The virtue of his will :] Cautel is craft; the virtue of his will means, virtuous intentions.-M. Mason.

- unmaster'd-] i.e. Licentious.

keep you in the rear, &c.] That is, do not advance so far as your affection would lead you.-Jounson.

- chariest -] i.e. Most cuutious.


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