We

Capt. Truly to fpeak it, and with no addition, go to gain a little patch of ground,

That bath in it no profit but the name.

To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it ;
Nor will it yield to Norway, or the Pole,
A ranker rate, fhould it be fold in fee.

Ham. Why, then the Polack never will defend it.
Capt. Yes, 'tis already garrifon'd.

Ham. Two thousand fouls, and twenty thousand dis

cats,

Will not abate the question of this ftraw;

This is th' impofthume of much wealth and peace,
That inward breaks, and fhews no cause without
Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, Sir.
Capt. God b'w'ye, Sir.

Rof. Will't pleafe you go, my Lord?

Ham. I'll be with you ftrait. Go a little before.

Manet Hamlet.

How all occafions do inform against me,
·And Spur my dull revenge? What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to fleep and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, be that made us with fuch large difcourfe,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and god-like reafon

To fuft in us unus'd. Now whether it be
Beftial oblivion, or fome craven fcruple

Of thinking too precisely on th' event,

[Exeunt.

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

4-chief good and market-] If his highest good, and that for which he fells his time, be to fleep and feed..

5

-Large difcourfe,] Such latitude of comprehenfion, fuch power of reviewing the past, and anticipating the future.

Why

Why yet I live to say this thing's to do;

6

Sith I have caufe, and will, and strength, and means
To do't. Examples, grofs as earth, exhort me;
Witness this army of fuck mafs and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender Prince,
Whofe fpirit, with divine ambition puft,
Makes mouths at the invifible event;
Expofing what is mortal and unfure
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
Ev'n for an egg-fhell. Rightly to be great,
Is not to ftir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When Honour's at the stake. How ftand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother ftain'd,
7 Excitements of my reafon and my blood,
And let all fleep? while, to my fhame, I fee
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That for a fantasy and trick of fame

Go to their Graves like beds; fight for a Plot,
Whereon the numbers cannot try the caufe,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the flain? O, then, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth.

6-Rightly to be great,

Is not to fir without, &c.] This paffage I have printed according to the copy. Mr. Theobald had regulated it thus,

Tis not to be great,
Never to fir without great ar-
gument;

But greatly, &c.
The fentiment of Shakespeare is
partly juft, and partly romantick,
-Rightly to be great,

Is not to fir without great ar-
gument,

is exactly philosophical.

[Exit.

But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,

When honour is at stake, is the idea of a modern hero. But then, fays he honour is an argument, or fubject of debate, Sufficiently great, and when bonour is at stake, we must find cause of quarrel in a straw.

7 Excitements of my reafon and my blood, Provocations which excite both my reafon and my paffions to vengeance.

SCENE

SCENE V.

Changes to a Palace.

Enter Queen, and Horatio,

Queen. I Will not speak with her.
Hor. She is importunate,

Indeed, diftra&t. Her mood will needs be pitied,
Queen. What would fhe have?

Hor. She fpeaks much of her father; says, she hears,

There's tricks i'th'world; and hems, and beats her

heart;

Spurns envioufly at ftraws; fpeaks things in doubt, That carry but half fenfe. Her fpeech is nothing, Yet the unfhap'd ufe of it doth move,

The hearers to collection; they aim at it,

And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts; Which as her winks, and nods, and geftures yield

them,

Indeed would make one think, there might be thought,

8

Tho' nothing fure, yet much unhappily.

''Twere good the were spoken with, for the may

ftrow

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
Queen. Let her come in.

[Exit. Hor

9 'Twere good he were spoken

with, Thefe lines are given to the Queen in the folio, and to Horatio in the quarto. I have followed Hanmer's regula❤

WARBURTON. tion.
S

To my fick foul, as fin's true nature is,
Each Toy feems prologue to fome great Amiss;
So full of artless jealoufy is guilt,

It fpills itself, in fearing to be spilt.

Enter Horatio, with Ophelia, diftracted.

Oph. Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?
Queen. How now, Ophelia?

Oph. How Should I your true Love know from another

one?

By his cockle bat and staff, and by his sandal shoon.

[Singing.

Queen. Alas, fweet lady; what imports this Song?
Oph. Say you? Nay, pray you, mark.

He's dead and gone, lady, he is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf, at bis heels a stone.
O ho!

Enter King.

Queen. Nay, but Ophelia-
Oph. Pray you, mark.

By his cockle hat and flaff, and by his fandal hoon. ] This is the defcription of a pilgrim. While this kind of devotion was in favour, love-intrigues were carried on under that mask. Hence the old ballads and novels made pilgrimages the fubjects of their plots. The cockle-fhell

hat was one of the effential badges of this vocation for the chief places of devotion being beyond fea, or on the coafts, the pilgrims were accustomed to put cockie-fhells upon their hats, to denote the intention or performance of their devotion.

WARBURTON.

White his fhroud as the mountain fnow.
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 ye, pretty lady?

2

the owl what we

Oph. Well, God 'ield you! They fay, was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know are, but we know not what we may be. God be at

your table!

King. Conceit upon your father.

Oph. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, say you this:

To-morrow is St. Valentine's day,

All in the morn betime,

And I a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine.

Then up he rofe, and don'd his cloaths,
3 And dupt the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia !

Oph. Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end

on't.

2 the owl was a baker's daugh ter.] This was a metamorphofis of the common people, arifing from the mealy appearance of the owl's feathers, and her guarding the bread from mice. WARB.

3, And dupt the chamber door ;] To dup, is to do up; to lift the latch. It were eafy to write,

And op'd