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Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple

Of thinking too precisely on the event,

A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom, And, ever, three parts coward,-I do not know

Why yet I live to say, This thing's to do;

Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means,
To do't. Examples, gross as earth, exhort me :
Witness, this army of such mass, and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince;
Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,
Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Exposing what is mortal, and unsure,
To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great,
Is, not to stir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,

When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason, and my blood,'
And let all sleep while, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot2
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough, and continent,
To hide the slain ?-O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

SCENE V.

[Exit.

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.

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 ;3 speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense : her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it doth move

[1] Provocations which excite both my reason and my passions to vengeance. JOHNSON. [2] A piece or portion."

REED.

[3] Envy is much oftener put by our poet, and those of his time, for direct aversion, than for malignity conceived at the sight of others' excellence. So in K. Henry VIII. you turn the good we offer into envy. STEEVENS.

The hearers to collection ;4 they aim at it,

And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts; Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them, Indeed would make one think, there might be thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.5

Queen. 'Twere good, she were spoken with; for she may strew

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds:

Let her come in.

[Exit HORATIO.

To 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 ?

Oph. How should I your true love knows

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon."

[Singing.

Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?

Oph. Say you? nay, pray you, mark.

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Queen. Nay, but Ophelia,

Oph. Pray you, mark.

White his shroud as the mountain snow,

[Sings.

[Sings.

[4] As Mr. Mason observes, "endeavour to collect some meaning from them.'

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So in Cymbeline, last scene,

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[5] Though her meaning cannot be certainly collected, yet there is enough to put a mischievous interpretation to it. WARBURTON.

[6] There is no part of this play in its representation on the stage, more pathetic than this scene, which I suppose proceeds from the utter insensibility Ophelia has to her own misfortunes. A great sensibility, or none at all, seems to produce the same effect. In the latter the audience supply what she wants, and with the former they sympathize. Sir J. REYNOLDS.

[7] This is the description of a pilgim. While this kind of devotion was in favour, love intrigues were car ied on under that mask. Hence the old ballads and novels made pilgrimages the subjects of their plots. The cockleshell hat was one of the essential badges of this vocation: for the chief places of devotion being beyond sea, or on the coasts, the pilgrims were accustomed to put cockle shells upon their hats, to denote the intention or performance of their devotion. WARBURTON.

Enter King.

Queen. Alas, look here, my lord.
Oph. Larded all with sweet flowers;
Which bewept to the grave did go,
With true-love showers.

King. How do you, pretty lady?

Oph. Well, God 'ield you !8 They say, the owl was a baker's daughter.9 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:

Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,

And I a maid at your window,

To be your Valentine:

Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber-door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia !

Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:

By Gis,2 and by Saint Charity, 3

Alack, and fye for shame!

Young men will do't, if they come to❜t;

By cock, they are to blame.

Quoth she, before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to wed :

[He answers.]

So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.

King. How long hath she been thus ?

Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient :

[8] Heaven reward you. So in Anteny and Cleopatra.

"Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
"And the gods yield you for't!"

[9] See Illustrations, Vol. IX.

THEO BALD.

[1] To don is to do on, to put on; doff is to do off To dup is to do up, to up the the latch. JOHNSON.

lift

[2] I believe this word to be a corrupted abbreviation of Jesus, the letters I. H. S. being anciently all that was set down to denote that sacred name, on altars, the covers of books, &c. RIDLEY.

[3] St. Charity is a known saint among the Roman Catholics.

STEEV.

[4] This is likwise a corruption of the sacred name. Many instances are given in a note at the beginning of the fifth act of the Second part of Henry IV. STEEVENS,

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: 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,
Her brother is in secret come from France :
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Give me superfluous death !5
[A noise within.
Queen. Alack! what noise is this?

King. Attend.

Enter a Gentleman.

Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door : What is the matter?

Gent. Save yourself, my lord;

The ocean, overpeering of his list, 6

Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste,

Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,

O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, lord;

And, as the world were now but to begin,

Antiquity forgot, custom not known,

[5] Such a piece as assassins use, with many barrels. It is necessary to apprehend this, to see the justness of the similitude.

See Illustrations, Vol. IX.

WARBURTON.

[6] The lists are the barriers which the spectators of a tournament must not pass. See note on Othello, act. IV. sc. I.

JOHNSON,

The ratifiers and props of every word,

They cry, Choose we: Laertes shall be king!

Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!

Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs.7
King. The doors are broke.

[Noise within. Enter LAERTES, armed: Danes following.

Laer. Where is this king?-Sirs,stand you all without. Dan. No, let's come in.

Laer. I pray you, give me leave.

Dan. We will, we will. [They retire without the door. Laer. I thank you :-keep the door.-O thou vile king, Give me my father.

Queen. Calmly, good Laertes.

Laer. That drop of blood, that's calm, proclaims me bastard;

Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot
Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow &
Of my true mother.

King. What is the cause, Laertes,

That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ?

Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person;
There's such divinity doth hedge a king,

That treason can but peep to what it would,

Acts little of his will.-Tell me, Laertes,

Why thou art thus incens'd ;—Let him go, Gertrude ;Speak, man.

Laer. Where is my father?

King. Dead.

Queen. But not by him.

King. Let him demand his fill.

Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with: To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit!

I dare damnation: To this point I stand,-
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd
Most throughly for my father.

King. Who shall stay you?

Laer. My will, not all the world's:

And, for my means, I'll husband them so well,

[7] Hounds run counter when they trace the trail backwards. JOHNSON.

[8] Unsmirched brow, i. e. clean, not defiled. STEEVENS.

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