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Queen. If it be,

Why feems it fo particular with thee?

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Ham. Seems, Madam? nay, it is, I know not feems? 'Tis not alone my inky, cloak, good mother, w,101 Nor cuftomary fuits of folemn Black,

Nor windy fufpiration of forc'd breath,

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No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, valon o'li odsT Nor the dejected 'haviour of the vifage,

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Together with all forms, moods, fhews of grief, o
That can denote me truly. Thefe indeed feem,neb of
For they are actions that a man might plays
But I have That within, which paffeth fhew:
Thefe, but the trappings, and the fuits of woe.adT
King. 'Tis fweet and commendable in your nature,
Hamlet,

To give thefe mourning duties to your father:
But you must know, your father loft a father;
That father loft, loft his; and the furvivor bound
In filial obligation, for fome term,

2

To do obfequious forrow. But to perfevere 3 In obftinate condolement, is a courfe

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your father loft a father; That father, his; and the jurvivor bound.] Thus Mr. Pope judiciously corrected the faulty copies. On which the editor Mr. Theobald thus difcants; This fuppofed refinement is from Mr. Pope, but all the eactions elfe, that I have met with, old and modern, read,

That father loft, loft bis ;The reduplication of which word here gives an energy and an elegance WHICH IS MUCH EASIER TO BE CONCEIVED THAN EX

PLAINED IN TERMS. I believe fo: For when explained in terms

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it comes to this; That father af ter he had loft himself, loft his father. But the reading is fide Codicis, and that is enough. WARBURTON,

I do not admire the repetition of the word, but it has fo much of our authour's manner, that I find no temptation to recede from the old copies.

2 obfequious forrowu.] Obquious is here from obfequies, or funeral ceremonies.

3 In obfino te condolement.-] Condolement, for forrow; because forrow is used to be condoled. A WARBURTON.

Of

H

Of impious ftubbornness, unmanly grief.
It fhews a will moft incorrect to heav'n,
A heart unfortify'd, a mind impatient,
An understanding fimple, and unfchool'd;
For, what we know muft be, and is as common
An any the most vulgar thing to fenfe,
Why should we, in our peevish oppofition,
Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heav'n,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
5 To Reafon moft abfurd; whofe common theam
Is death of fathers, and who ftill hath cry'd,
From the first coarfe, 'till he that died to day,
"This must be fo." We pray you, throw to earth
This unprevailing woe, and think of us

As of a father: for let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our Throne;
And with no lefs nobility of love,
Than that which dearest father bears his fon,
7 Do I impart tow'rd you. For your intent
In going back to school to Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our defire;

And we beseech you, bend you to remain
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefeft courtier, coufin, and our fon.

Queen. Let not thy mother lofe her prayers, Hamlet;
I pr'ythee, ftay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I fhall in all my best obey you, Madam.
King. Why, 'tis a loving, and a fair reply;

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Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits fmiling to my heart, in grace whereof
"No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to day,DM
But the great Cannon to the clouds fhall tell,
And the King's rowfe the heav'n fhall bruit again, a
Re-fpeaking earthly thunder. Come, away, [Exeunt

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Ham. Oh, that this too too folid flesh would melt,/. Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

, Or that the Everlasting had not fixt

His cannon 'gainst self-flaughter! O God! O God;
How weary ftale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the ufes of this world!
Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to feed; things rank, and grofs in nature,
Poffefs it merely. That it fhould come to this!
But two months, dead! nay, not fo much; nor

two

So excellent a King, that was, to this,

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Hyperion to a Satyr; fo loving to my mother," 2 That he might not let e'en the winds of heav'n! Vifit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth !! !234 Must remember? why, fhe would hang on him,sul bool s51 OY HODGE

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As if Increase of Appetite had grown
By what it fed on yet, within a month,

Let me not think-Frailty, thy name is Woman !
A little month or ere thofe fhoes were old,
With which the followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears-Why fhe, ev'n fhe,-

3

O heav'n! 3 a beaft, that wants difcourfe of reafon, Would have mourn'd longer, married with mine uncle i

My father's brother; but no more like my father,

be a little far-fetch'd; but it has an exquifite beauty. By the Satyr is meant Pan, as by Hyperion, Apollo. Pan and Apollo were brothers, and the allufion is to the contention, between those two Gods for the preference in mufick. WARBURTON.

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of a fingle letter, and the feparation of two words mistakenly jumbled together, I am verily perfuaded, I have retrieved the Poet's reading. That he might not let e'en the winds of heav'n, &c. THEOBALD. 3 -a beast, that wants dif

courfe of reafon.] This is finely expreffed, and with a philofophical exactnefs. Beafts want not reafon, but the difcourfe of reafon: i. e. the regular inferring one thing from another by the affiftance of univerfals.

WARBURTON."

Difcourfe of reafon, as the logicians name the third operation of the mind, is indeed a philofophical term, but it is fine no otherwife than as it is proper; it coft the authour nothing, being the common language of his time. Of finding fuch beauties in any poet there is no end.

Than

Than I to Hercules. Within a month!
Ere yet. the falt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flufhing in her gauled eyes,

She married. Oh, moft wicked speed, to poft
With fuch dexterity to incestuous fheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to Good.

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But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

SCENE

Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus

Hor. Hail to your Lordship!

Ham I am glad to fee you well;79054 Horatio, —or I do forget my self?

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Hor. The fame, my lord, and your poor fervant

ever.

Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you;

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
Marcellus!

Mar. My good lord

5

Ham. I am very glad to fee you; good even, Sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?1 Hor. A truant difpofition, good my lord. Ham. I would not hear your enemy fay fo Nor fhall you do mine ear that violence, To make it Trufter of your own report Against yourself. I know, you are no truant;

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-good even, Sir. ] So the copies. Sir Th. Hanmer and Dr. Warburton put it, ond marning. The alteration is of no importance, but all licence is dan gerous. There is no need of any

change. Between the first and eighth fcene of this act it is ap parent that a natural day must pafs, and how much of it is al-ready over, there is nothing that can determine. The King has held a council. It may now as well be evening as morning.

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