Imatges de pàgina
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Hor. My lord, I came to fee your father's funeral. Ham. I pr'ythee, do not mock me, fellow-ftudent; I think, it was to fee 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 heav'n,

Or ever I had feen that day, Horatio!
My father methinks, I fee my father.
Hor. Oh where, my Lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor. I faw him once, he was a goodly King.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I fhall not look upon his like again.

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

Hor. My lord, the King your father.
Ham. The King my father!

Hor. Seafon your admiration but a while,
With an attentive ear; 'till I deliver
Upon the witnefs of thefe gentlemen,

This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear.

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

In the dead waste and middle of the night,

Been thus encountred: A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap-à-pe,

Appears before them, and with folemn march
Goes flow and stately by them; thrice he walk'd,
By their oppreft and fear-furprized eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilft they (diftill'd
Almoft to jelly with the act of fear)
Stand dumb, and fpeak not to him. This to me
In dreadful fecrecy 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:
Thefe hands are not more like.

Ham.

Ham. But where was this?

Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watcht. Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My lord, I did;

But anfwer made it none; yet once, methought,
It lifted up its head, and did address

Itfelf to motion, like as it would speak:
But even then the morning cock crew loud;
And at the found it fhrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our fight.

Ham. 'Tis very ftrange.

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?

Both. We do, my lord."

Ham. Arm'd, fay you?

Both. Arm'd, my lord.

Ham. From top to toe?

Both. My lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then faw you not his face?

Hor. Oh, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.

Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. A count'nance more in forrow than in anger. Ham. Pale, or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fixt his eyes upon you?

Hor. Moft conftantly.

Ham. I would, I had been there!

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like; ftaid it long?

Hor. While one with moderate hafte might tell a

hundred.

Both. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I faw't.

Ham. His beard was grilly?

Hor. It was, as I have feen it in his life,

A fable filver'd.

Ham. I'll watch to-night; perchance,'twill walk again.

Hor.

Hor. I warrant you, it will.

Ham. If it affume my noble father's perfon,
I'll fpeak to it, tho' hell itself fhould gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this fight,
Let it be treble in your filence still:
And whatsoever shall befall to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: fo, fare ye well.
Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
I'll vifit you.

All. Our duty to your honour.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: farewel. My father's spirit in arms! all is not well:

[Exeunt.

I doubt fome foul play: 'would, the night were come! 'Till then fit ftill, my foul: foul deeds will rife (Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them) to men's eyes.

[Exit.

SCENE changes to an Apartment in Polonius's

Laer.

And

Houfe.

Enter Laertes and Ophelia.

neceffaries are imbark'd, farewel;

M'And, fifter, as the winds give benefit,

convoy is affiftant, 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 prime nature,

Forward, not permanent, tho' sweet, not lasting:
The perfume, and fuppliance of a minute:
No more.

Oph. No more but fo?

Laer. Think it no more:

For nature, crefcent, does not grow alone

In thews and bulk; but, as this temple waxes,

The inward fervice of the mind and foul

Grows

Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now;
And now no foil, nor cautel, doth befmerch
The virtue of his will: but you must fear,
His greatnefs weigh'd, his will is not his own:
For he himself is fubject to his birth;
He may not, as unvalued perfons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The fanctity and health of the whole state:
And therefore muft his choice be circumscrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body,
Whereof he's head. Then, if he fays, he loves you,
It fits your wifdom fo far to believe it,
As he in his peculiar act and place

May give his faying deed; which is no further,
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh, what iofs your honour-may fuftain,
If with too credent ear you lift his fongs;

Or lofe your heart, or your chafte treasure open
To his unmafter'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear fifter;
And keep within the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of defire.
The charieft maid is prodigal enough,
If the unmask her beauty to the moon:
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes ;
The canker galls the infants of the fpring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blaftments are most imminent.
Be wary then, beft fafety lies in fear;
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

Oph. I fhall th' effects of this good leffon keep,
As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
Do not, as fome ungracious paftors do,
Shew me the steep and thorny way to heav'n;
Whilft, like a puft and carelefs libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks nót his own reed.

Laer. Oh, fear me not.

Enter

Enter Polonius.

I ftay too long;-but here my father comes:
A double bleffing is a double grace;

Occasion smiles upon a fecond leave.

Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard for fhame; The wind fits in the fhoulder of your fail, (6)

And you are ftaid for. There;

My bleffing with you;

[Laying his hand on Laertes's head. And these few precepts in thy memory

See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act:

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;
The friends thou haft, and their adoption try'd,
Grapple them to thy foul with hooks of steel:
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel: but being in,

Bear't that the oppofed may beware of thee.
Give ev'ry man thine ear; but few thy voice.
Take each man's cenfure; but referve thy judgment.

(6) The Wind fits in the Shoulder of your Sail,

And you are ftaid for there. My Bleffing, &c.] There

where in the Shoulder of his Sail? For to that muft this local Adverb relate, as 'tis fituated. Befides, it is a dragging idle Expletive, and feems of no Ufe but to fupport the Measure of the Verse. But when we come to point this Paffage right, and to the Poet's Intention in it, we fhall find it neither unneceffary, nor improper, in its Place. In the Speech immediately preceding this, Laertes taxes himself for staying too long; but feeing his Father approach, he is willing to ftay for a fecond Bleffing, and kneels down to that end: Polonius accordingly lays his hand on his Head, and gives him the fecond Bleffing. The manner, in which a Comic Actor behav'd upon this Occafion, was fure to raise a Laugh of Pleafure in the Audience: And the oldeft Quarto's, in the Pointing, are a Confirmation that thus the Poet intended it, and thus the Stage express'd it.

Coftly

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