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!
Muft I remember?

him,

why, fhe would hang on

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,-

O heav'n! 3 a beast, that wants discourse of reason, Would have mourn'd longer, married with mine uncle

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

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

2 In former editions,
That he permitted not the

winds of heav'n] This is a fophiftical reading, copied from the players in fome of the modern editions, for want of understanding the Poet, whofe text is corrupt in the old impreffions: All of which that I have had the fortune to fee, concur in reading;

So loving to my mother, That he might not beteene the winds of heav'n Vifit her face 100 roughly. Petcene is a corruption with out doubt, but not fo inveterate a one, but that, by the change

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 beaft, 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 cost 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 flushing in her gauled eyes,
She married.-Oh, moft wicked speed, to poft
With fuch dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to Good.

But break, my heart, for I muft hold my tongue,

Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus.

Hor. Hail to your Lordship!

Ham. I am glad to fee you well;

Horatio,OF I do forget my felf?

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, Horatie ?.
Marcellus!

Mar. My good lord

Ham. I am very glad to fee you; good even, Sir.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg ?

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;

4-what make you] A familiar phrafe for what are you doing.

.5 -good even, Sir. ] So the copies. Sir Th. Hanmer and Dr. Wa burton put it, good morn ing. 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 already over, there is nothing that can determine. The King has held a council. It may now as well be evening as morning.

But what is your affair in Elfinoor?

We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart.
Hor. My lord, I came to fee your father's funeral.
Ham. I pr'ythee, do not mock me, fellow-student
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

6

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage-tables.
'Would, I had met my deareft foe in heav'n,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father methinks, I fee my
Hor. Oh where, my lord?

father.

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,

Í fhall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think, I faw him yefternight.
Ham. Saw! whom?

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 witness of these 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 vaft and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap-à-pé,

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

Dearest, for direst, most

dreadful, moft dangerous.

7 Seafon your admirationThat is, temper it.

L 2

Within

Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, diftill'd
Almoft to jelly with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him.
In dreadful fecrefy impart they did,

This to me

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
I knew your father:
Thefe hands are not more like.

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

Itself to motion, like as it would speak;

But even then the morning cock crew loud;
And at the found it fhrunk in hafte away,
And vanish'd from our fight."

Ham. '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."

& with the ACT of fear,] Shakefear could never write fo improperly, as to call the paffion of fear, the act of fear. Without doubt the true reading is,

with TH' EFFECT of fear.

WARBURTON. Here is an affectation of fubtity without accuracy. Fear is every day confidered as an agent. Fear laid bold on him; fear drove bim away. If it were proper to be rigorous in examining trifles, it might be replied, that Shake

1

Speare would write more erroneoufly, if he wrote by the direction of this critick; they were not diftilled, whatever the word may mean, by the effect of fear; for that diftillation was itself the effect; fear was the caufe, the active caufe, that distilled them by that force of operation which we ftrictly call act in voluntary, and power in involuntary agents, but popularly call act in both. But of this too much.

Ham. In

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. Most conftantly.

Ham. I would, I had been there!

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like. Staid 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 grifly?

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. I warrant you, it will.

Ham. If it affume my noble father's perfon, I'll fpeak to it, though hell itfelf 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 ftill: