4 By Gis, and by St. Charity,
Alack, and fy for fhame!

Young men will do't, if they come to't,
By cock, they are to blame.
Quoth fhe, before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to wed:

So would I ba' done, by yonder fun,
And thou badft not come to my bed.

King. How long has the been thus ?

pa

Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be tient; but I cannot chufe but weep, to think, they fhould lay him i' th' cold ground; my brother fhall know of it, and fo I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach. Good night, ladies; good night, fweet ladies; good night, good night. Exit. King. Follow her clofe, give her good watch, I pray [Exit Horatio. This is the poifon of deep grief; it fprings

you.

All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude !
When forrows come, they come not fingle fpies,
But in battalions. First, her father flain;
Next your Son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own juft Remove; the people muddied,
Thick and unwholefom in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death; We've done but greenly,
" In hugger mugger to interr him; poor Ophelia,

16

-] I rather ima

By Gis,-
gine it should be read,

By Cis,
That is, By St. Cecil.

5 -but greenly,] But unfiful; with green-efs, th-t is, without maturity of judgment.

In bugger mugger to inter bim -] All the modern editions that I have confulted give i',

In private to inter him ;-
That the words now replaced

are better, I do not undertake to
prove; it is fufficient that they
are Shakespeare's: If phraseology
is to be changed as words grow
uncouth by difufe, or gros by
vulgarity, the hiftory of every
language will be loft; we fhall
no longer have the words of any
authour; and, as thefe alterations
will be often unfkillfully made,
we fall in time have very little
of his meaning.

Divided

Divided from herself, and her fair judgment;
Without the which we're pictures, or mere beasts:
Laft, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in fecret come from France;
7 Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With peftilent fpeeches of his father's death;
8 Wherein neceffity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing ftick our perfons to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Gives me fuperfluous death!

[A noife within. Queen. Alack! what Noife is this?

King. Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the

door.

What is the matter?

Mef. Save yourself, my Lord.

The ocean, over-peering of his lift,

7 Feeds on his wonder,-]The the connection. Wherein, that

is, in which peftilent Speeches, neceffity, or, the obligation of an accufer to Support his charge, will nothing ftick, &c.

S 3

9 Like to a murdering piece,-] Such a piece as affaffins use, with many barrels. It is neceffary to apprehend this, to fee the juftnefs of the fimilitude. WARB. 1 The ocean, over-peering of his lift,] The lifts are the barriers which the spectators of a tournament must not país.

Eats

is not the flats with more impetuous hafte, Ioan young aertes, in a riotous head,

Our ears your officers. The rabble call him Lord ; And as the world were now but to begin, Antiquity forgot, cuftom not known, 2 The ratifiers and props of every Ward; They cry, "Chufe we Icertes for our King." Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the Clouds; “Laertes fhail be King, Laertes King!"

Queen. How chearfully on the falle trail they cry!

3 Ch, this is counter, you falfe Danish dogs.

[Noife within.

Enter Laertes, with a Party at the Door,

King. The doors are broke.

2 The ratifiers and props of

every word;] The whole tenour of the context is fufficient to fhew, that this is a mistaken reading. What can antiquity and cutlom, being the props of acords, have to do with the bufinefs in hand? Or what idea is conveyed by it? Certainly the poet wrote;

The ratifiers and props of ev'ry

ward;

The meflenger is complaining that the riotous head had overborne the King's officers, and then fubjoins, that antiquity and custom were forgot, which were the ratifiers and props of every ward, i. e. of every one of thofe Jecurities that nature and law p'ace about the perfon of a King. All this is rational and confequential. WARBURTON.

With this emendation, which was in Theobald's edition, Hanmer was not fatisfied. It is indeed harth. Hanmer transposes the lines, and reads,

They cry, Chufe we Laertes for
our King;
The ratifiers and props cf
ev'ry word,

Caps, hands, and tongues, af-
plaud it to the clouds.

I think the fault may be mended at lefs expence, by reading,

Antiquity forgot, cuftom not known,

The ratifiers and props of ev'ry
weal.

That is, of every government.
3 Oh, this is counter, you falle

Danifh dogs.] Hounds run counter when they trace the trail backwards.

Laer,

Laer. Where is this King? Sirs! stand you all

without.

All. No, let's come in.

Laer. I pray you, give me leave.

All. We will, we will."

Laer. I thank you.

Keep the door.

O thou vile King, give me my father.

[Exeunt.

Queen. Calmly, good Laertes. [Laying hold on him,
Laer. That drop of blood that's calm, proclaims
me bastard;

Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot
Ev'n here, between the chaste and unsmirch'd brows
Of my true mother.

King. What is the caufe, Laertes,

That thy Rebellion looks fo giant-like?

-Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our perfon.
There's fuch divinity doth hedge a King,

That treafon can but peep to what it would,

Acts little of its will. Tell me, Laertes,

Why are you 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!
Confcience 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
Moft throughly for my father.

King. Who fhall stay you

?

Laer. My will, not all the world;

And for my means, I'll husband them fo well,
They fhall

go far with little.

S 4

King.

King. Good Laertés,

If you defire to know the certainty

Of

your dear father, is't writ in your revenge, That, fweep-ftake, you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and lofer?

Laer. None but his enemies.

King. Will you know them then?

Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my

arms,

And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican,
Repast them with my blood.

King. Why, now you speak

Like a good child, and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltlefs of your father's death,
And am moft fenfible in grief for it,
It fhall as level to your judgment 'pear,
As day does to your eye.

Crowd within. Let her come in.
Laer. How now, what noife is that?

Enter Ophelia, fantastically dreft with fraws and flowers.

O heat, dry up my brains! Tears, feven times falt,
Burn out the fenfe and virtue of mine eye!
By heav'n, thy madness shall be paid with weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rofe of May;
Dear maid, kind fifter, sweet Ophelia !
O heav'ns, is't poffible a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?

4-to your judgment 'pear,] So

to your judgement pierce,

the quarto; the folio, and all the lefs intelligibly. latter editions, read,

" Nature