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THE 


PLAYS 


OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 


VOLUME  THE  EIGHTEENTH. 


Printed  by  S.  Hamilton,  Weybridge,  Surry. 


THE 


PLAYS 


OF 


WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 


VOLUME  THE  EIGHTEENTH. 


CONTAINING 

HAMLET. 
CYMBELINE. 


LONDON: 

Printed  for  J.  Nichols  and  Son;  F.  C.  and  J.  Rivington;  J.  Stock  dale; 
W.  Lowndes;  G.  Wilkie  and  J.  Robinson;  T.  Egerton;  J.  Walker; 
Scatcherd  and  Letterman ;  W.  Clarke  and  Sons;  J.  Barker;  J.  Cuthell; 
R.  Lea;  Lackington  and  Co. ;  J.  Deighton ;  J.  White  and  Co.;  B.  Crosby 
and  Co. ;  W.  Earle ;  J.  Gray  and  Son ;  Longman  and  Co. ;  Cadell  and 
Davies  ;  J.  Harding;  R.  H.  Evans ;  J.  Booker;  S.  Bagster ;  J.  Mawman; 
Black  and  Co. ;  J.  Black ;  J.  Richardson ;  J.  Booth ;  Newman  and 
Co.;  R.  Pheney;  R.  Scholey  ;  J.Murray;  J.  Asperne;  J.  Faulder; 
R.  Baldwin;  Cradock  and  Joy;  Sharpe  and  Hailes;  Johnson  and  Co. ; 
Gale  and  Co.;  G.  Robinson;  C.  Brown ;  and  Wilson  and  Son,  York. 

1813. 


Jd  3 
v.  1$ 


HAMLET 


VOL.  XVIII. 


*  HAMLET,  PRINCE  or  DENMARK.]  The  original  story  on 
which  this  play  is  built,  may  be  found  in  Saxo  Grammaticus  the 
Danish  historian.  From  thence  Belleforest  adopted  it  in  his 
collection  of  novels,  in  seven  volumes,  which  he  began  in  1564, 
and  continued  to  publish  through  succeeding  years.  From  this 
work,  The  Historic  of  Hamblett,  quarto,  bl.  1.  was  translated. 
I  have  hitherto  met  with  no  earlier  edition  of  the  play  than  one 
in  the  year  1604,  though  it  must  have  been  performed  before 
that  time,  as  I  have  seen  a  copy  of  Speght's  edition  of  Chaucer, 
which  formerly  belonged  to  Dr.  Gabriel  Harvey,  ( the  antagonist 
of  Nash )  who,  in  his  own  hand-writing,  has  set  down  Hamlet, 
as  a  performance  with  which  he  was  well  acquainted,  in  the 
year  1598.  His  words  are  these :  "  The  younger  sort  take  much 
delight  in  Shakspeare's  Venus  and  Adonis ;  but  his  Lucrece,  and 
his  tragedy  of  Hamlet  Prince  of  Denmarke,  have  it  in  them  to 
please  the  wiser  sort,  1598." 

In  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  this  play  was  en- 
tered by  James  Roberts,  July  26,  1602,  under  the  title  of  "  A 
booke  called  The  Revenge  of  Hamlett,  Prince  of  Denmarke,  as 
it  was  lately  acted  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain  his  servantes." 

In  Eastward  Hoe,  by  George  Chapman,  Ben  Jonson,  and 
John  Marston,  1605,  is  a  fling  at  the  hero  of  this  tragedy.  A 
footman  named  Hamlet  enters,  and  a  tankard-bearer  asks  him — 
'*  'Sfoote,  Hamlet,  are  you  mad?" 

The  frequent  allusions  of  contemporary  authors  to  this  play 
sufficiently  show  its  popularity.  Thus,  in  Decker's  Bel-man's 
NightwalJces,  4to.  1612,  we  have — "  But  if  any  mad  Hamlet, 
hearing  this,  smell  villainie,  and  rush  in  by  violence  to  see  what 
the  tawny  diuels  [gypsies]  are  dooing,  then  they  excuse  the 
fact"  &c.  Again,  in  an  old  collection  of  Satirical  Poems,  called 
The  Night-Raven,  is  this  couplet : 

"  I  will  not  cry  Hamlet,  Revenge  my  greeves, 
"  But  I  will  call  Hangman,  Revenge  on  thieves." 

STEEVENS. 

Surely  no  satire  was  intended  in  Eastward  Hoe,  which  was 
acted  at  Shakspeare's  own  playhouse,  (Blackfriers,)  by  the 
children  of  the  revels,  in  1605.  MALONE. 

The  following  particulars  relative  to  the  date  of  this  piece,  are 
borrowed  from  Dr.  Farmer's  Essay  on  the  Learning  of  S/iak- 
speare,  p.  85,  86,  second  edition : 

"  Greene,  in  the  Epistle  prefixed  to  his  Arcadia,  hath  a  lash 
at  some  *  vaine  glorious  tragedians,'  and  very  plainly  at  Shak- 
speare  in  particular. — *  I  leave  all  these  to  the  mercy  of  their 
mother-tongue,  that  feed  on  nought  but  the  crunis  that  fall  from 
the  translators  trencher. — That  could  scarcely  latinize  their  neck 


verse  if  they  should  have  neede,  yet  English  Seneca,  read  by 
candlelight  yeelds  many  good  sentences — hee  will  afford  you 
whole  Hamlets,  I  should  say,  handfuls  of  tragicall  speeches.' — 
I  cannot  determine  exactly  when  this  Epistle  was  first  published  ; 
but,  I  fancy,  it  will  carry  the  original  Hamlet  somewhat  further 
back  than  we  have  hitherto  done :  and  it  may  be  observed,  that 
the  oldest  copy  now  extant,  is  said  to  be  '  enlarged  to  almost  as 
much  againe  as  it  was.'  Gabriel  Harvey  printed  at  the  end  of 
the  year  1592,  '  Foure  Letters  and  certaine  Sonnetts,  especially 
touching  Robert  Greene:'  in  one  of  which  his  Arcadia  is  men- 
tioned. Now  Nash's  Epistle  must  have  been  previous  to  these, 
as  Gabriel  is  quoted  in  it  with  applause ;  and  the  Foure  Letters 
were  the  beginning  of  a  quarrel.  Nash  replied  in  *  Strange 
News  of  the  intercepting  certaine  Letters,  and  a  Convoy  of 
Verses,  as  they  were  going  privilie  to  victual  the  Low  Countries, 
1593.'  Harvey  rejoined  the  same  year  in  *  Pierce's  Superero- 
gation, or  a  new  Praise  of  the  old  Asse.'  And  Nash  again,  in 
*  Have  with  you  to  Saffron  Walden,  or  Gabriell  Harvey's  Hunt 
is  up ;'  containing  a  full  answer  to  the  eldest  sonne  of  the  halter- 
maker,  1596." — Nash  died  before  1606,  as  appears  from  an  old 
comedy  called  The  Return  from  Parnassus.  STEEVENS. 

A  play  on  the  subject  of  Hamlet  had  been  exhibited  on  the 
stage  before  the  year  1589,  of  which  Thomas  Kyd  was,  I 
believe,  the  author.  On  that  play,  and  on  the  bl.  1.  Historic  of 
Hamblet,  our  poet,  I  conjecture,  constructed  the  tragedy  before 
us.  The  earliest  edition  of  the  prose-narrative  which  I  have  seen, 
was  printed  in  1608,  but  it  undoubtedly  was  a  republication. 

Shakspeare's  Hamlet  was  written,  if  my  conjecture  be  well 
founded,  in  1596.  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  his 
Plays,  Vol.  II.  MALONE. 


B  2 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


Claudius,  King  o/'Denmark. 

Hamlet,1  Son  to  the  former,  and  Nephew  to  the 

present  King. 

Polonius,  Lord  Chamberlain. 
Horatio,  Friend  to  Hamlet. 
Laertes,  Son  to  Polonius. 
Voltimand, 
Cornelius, 
Rosencrantz, 
Guildenstern, 
Osric,  a  Courtier. 
Another  Courtier. 
A  Priest. 
Marcellus,   > 
Bernardo,    f 
Francisco,  a  Soldier. 
Reynaldo,  Servant  to  Polonius. 
A  Captain.    An  Ambassador. 
Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father. 
Fortinbras,  Prince  of  Norway. 

Gertrude,   Queen  of  Denmark,   and  Mother  of 

Hamlet. 
Ophelia,  Daughter  of  Polonius. 

Lords,  Ladies,  Officers,  Soldiers,  Players,  Grave- 
Diggers,  Sailors,  Messengers, and  other  Attendants. 

SCENE,  Elsinore. 


1  Hamlet,']  i.  e.  Amletk.     The  h  transferred  from  the  end  to 
the  beginning  of  the  name.    STEEVENS. 


HAMLET, 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 

Elsinore.     A  Platform  before  the  Castle. 

FRANCISCO  on  his  Post.    Enter  to  him  BERNARDO. 

BER.  Who's  there  ? 

FRAN.  Nay,  answer  me : 2  stand,  and  unfold 

•  Yourself. 

BER.  Long  li ve  the  king ! 3 
FRAN.  Bernardo  ? 

BER.  He. 

FRAN.  You  come  most  carefully  upon  your  hour. 

BER.  JTis  now  struck  twelve  ;4  get  thee  to  bed, 
Francisco. 

a  me:~]  i.  e.  me  who  am  already  on  the  watch,  and  have 

at  right  to  demand  the  watch-word.     STEEVENS. 

3  Long  live  the  king  /]  This  sentence  appears  to  have  been 
the  watch-word.  MALONE. 

*  'Tis  now  struck  twelves']  I  strongly  suspect  that  the  true 
reading  is — nevo  struck,  &c.  So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliety  Act  I, 
pc.  i: 

"  But  neixt  struck  nine."    STEEVENS. 


6  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

FRAN.  For  this  relief,  much  thanks :  'tis  bitter 

cold, 
And  I  am  sick  at  heart. 

BER.  Have  you  had  quiet  guard  ? 

FRAN.  Not  a  mouse  stirring. 

BER.  Well,  good  night. 
If  you  do  meet  Horatio  and  Marcellus, 
The  rivals  of  my  watch,5  bid  them  make  haste. 


*  The  rivals  of  my  watch,']     Rivals  for  partners. 

WARBURTON. 

So,  in  Heywood's  Rape  of  Lucrece,  1636: 
"  Tullia.  Aruns,  associate  him. 
"  Aruns.  A  rival  with  my  brother,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Tragedy  of  Hoffman,  1637: 

"  And  make  thee  rival  in.  those  governments." 
Again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  III.  sc.  v : 

" having  made  use  of  him  in  the  wars  against  Pompey, 

presently  deny'd  him  rivality"     STE EVENS. 

By  rivals  the  speaker  certainly  means  partners  (according  to 
Dr.  Warburton's  explanation,)  or  those  whom  he  expected  to 
watch  with  him.  Marcellus  had  watched  with  him  before ;. 
whether  as  a  centinel,  a  volunteer,  or  from  mere  curiosity,  we 
do  not  learn :  but,  whichever  it  was,  it  seems  evident  that  his 
station  was  on  the  same  spot  with  Bernardo,  and  that  there  is  no 
other  centinel  by  them  relieved.  Possibly  Marcelius  was  an 
officer,  whose  business  it  was  to  visit  each  watch,  and  perhaps  to 
continue  with  it  some  time.  Horatio,  as  it  appears,  watches  out 
of  curiosity.  But  in  Act  II.  sc.  i.  to  Hamlet's  question, — 
"  Hold  you  the  watch  to-night  ?"  Horatio,  Marcellus,  and  Ber- 
nardo, all  answer, — "  We  do,  my  honour 'd  lord."  The  folio 
indeed,  reads — both,  which  one  may  with  great  propriety  refer 
to  Marcellus  and  Bernardo.  If  we  did  not  find  the  latter  gen- 
tleman in  such  good  company,  we  might  have  taken  him  to  have 
been  like  Francisco  whom  he  relieves,  an  honest  but  common 
soldier.  The  strange  indiscriminate  use  of  Italian  and  Roman 
names  in  this  and  other  plays,  makes  it  obvious  that  the  author 
was  very  little  conversant  in  even  the  rudiments  of  either  lan- 
guage. RITSON. 

Rival  is  constantly  used  by  Shakspeare  for  a  partner  or  as- 
sociate. In  Bullokar's  English  Expositor,  8vo.  1616,  it  is  de- 


K.  /.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK. 


Enter  HORATIO  and  MARCELLUS. 

FRAN.  I  think,  I  hear  them. — Stand,  ho !  Who 
is  there  ? 

HOR.  Friends  to  this  ground. 

MAR.  And  liegemen  to  the  Dane. 

FRAN.  Give  you  good  night. 

MAR.  O,  farewell,  honest  soldier : 

Who  hath  reliev'd  you? 

FRAN.  Bernardo  hath  my  place. 

Give  you  good  night.  \_JLxit  FRANCISCO. 

MAR.  Holla!  Bernardo! 

BER.  Say. 

What,  is  Horatio  there  ? 


fined  "  One  that  sueth  for  the  same  thing  with  another;"  and 
hence  Shakspeare,  with  his  usual  licence,  always  uses  it  in  the 
same  sense  of  one  engaged  in  the  same  employment  or  office  with 
another.  Competitor,  which  is  explained  by  Bullokar  by  the 
very  same  words  which  he  has  employed  in  the  definition  of 
rival,  is  in  like  manner  (as  Mr.  M.  Mason  has  observed,)  always 
used  by  Shakspeare  for  associate.  See  Vol.  IV.  p.  233,  n.  6. 
Mr.  Warner  would  read  and  point  thus : 

If  you  do  meet  Horatio,  and  Marcellus 

*/    U  ' 

The  rival  of  my  watch, — 

because  Horatio  is  a  gentleman  of  no  profession,  and  because,  as 
he  conceived,  there  was  but  one  person  on  each  watch.  But 
there  is  no  need  of  change.  Horatio  is  certainly  not  an  officer, 
but  Hamlet's  fellow-student  at  Wittenberg :  but  as  he  accom- 
panied Marcellus  and  Bernardo  on  the  watch  from  a  motive  of 
curiosity,  our  poet  considers  him  very  properly  as  an  associate 
with  them.  Horatio  himself  says  to  Hamlet  in  a  subsequent 
scene — 

" This  to  me 

"  In  dreadful  secrecy  impart  they  did, 

"  And  /  with  them  the  third  night  kept  the  watch." 

MALONE. 


8  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

HOR.  A  piece  of  him.6 

BER.  Welcome,  Horatio ;  welcome,  good  Mar- 
cellus. 

HOR.  What,7  has  this  thing  appear' d  again  to- 
night ? 

BER.  I  have  seen  nothing. 

MAR.  Horatio  says,  'tis  but  our  fantasy ; 
And  will  not  let  belief  take  hold  of  him, 
Touching  this  dreaded  sight,  twice  seen  of  us : 
Therefore  I  have  entreated  him  along, 
With  us  to  watch  the  minutes  of  this  night ; 8 
That,  if  again  this  apparition  come, 
He  may  approve  our  eyes,9  and  speak  to  it. 


*  Hor.  A  piece  ofhim,~\  But  why  a  piece?  He  says  this  as  he 
gives  his  hand.     Which  direction  should  be  marked. 

WARBURTON. 

Apiece  of  him,  is,  I  believe,  no  more  than  a  cant  expression. 
It  is  used,  however,  on  a  serious  occasion  in  Pericles  : 

**  Take  in  your  arms  this  piece  of  your  dead  queen." 

STEEVENS. 

7  Hor.  What,  &c.]  Thus  the  quarto,  1604-.     STEEVENS. 
These  words  are  in  the  folip  given  to  Marcellus.    MALONE. 

*  the  minutes  of  this  night;"]     This  seems  to  have  been 

an  expression  common  in  Shakspeare's  time.     I  found  it  in  one 
of  Ford's  plays,  The  Fancies  chaste  and  noble,  Act  V : 

"  I  promise  ere  the  minutes  of  the  night." 

STEEVENS. 

9  approve  our  eyes,~\  Add  a  new  testimony  to  that  of  our 

eyes.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Lear: 

" this  approves  her  letter, 

"  That  she  would  soon  be  here." 
See  Vol.  XVII.  p.  12,  n.  4.     STEEVENS. 

He  may  approve  our  eyes,]  He  may  make  good  the  testimony 
of  our  eyes;  be  assured  by  his  own  experience  of  the  truth  of 
that  which  we  have  related,  in  consequence  of  having  been  eye- 
tvitnesses  to  it.  To  approve  in  Shakspeare's  age,  signified  ta 


ac.  /.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  9 

HOR.     Tush  !  tush !  'twill  not  appear. 

BER.  Sit  down  awhile  j 

And  let  us  once  again  assail  your  ears, 
That  are  so  fortified  against  our  story, 
What  we  two  nights  have  seen.1 

HOR.  Well,  sit  we  down, 

And  let  us  hear  Bernardo  speak  of  this. 

BER.  Last  night  of  all, 

When  yon  same  star,  that's  westward  from  the  pole, 
Had  made  his  course  to  illume  that  part  of  heaven 
Where  now  it  burns,  Marcellus,  and  myself, 
The  bell  then  beating  one, — 

MAR.  Peace,  break  thee  off;    look,  where  it 
comes  again ! 

Enter  Ghost. 

BER.  In  the  same  figure,  like  the  king  that's 
dead. 

MAR.  Thou  art  a  scholar,  speak  to  it,  Horatio.2 

make  good,  or  establish,  and  is  so  defined  in  Cawdrey's  Alpha- 
betical Table  of  hard  English  Words,  8vo.  1604.  So,  in  King 
Lear : 

"  Good  king  that  must  approve  the  common  saw ! 

"  Thou  out  of  heaven's  benediction  com'st 

"  To  the  warm  sun."     MALONE. 

1  What  we  two  nights  have  seen."]  This  line  is  by  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer  given  to  Marcellus,  but  without  necessity.  JOHNSON. 

8  Thou  art  a  scholar,  speak  to  it,  Horatio.~]  It  has  always 
been  a  vulgar  notion  that  spirits  and  supernatural  beings  can 
only  be  spoken  to  with  propriety  or  effect  by  persons  of  learning. 
Thus,  Toby,  in  The  Night-walker,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
says: 

" It  grows  still  longer, 

"  'Tis  steeple-high  now ;  and  it  sails  away,  nurse. 

"  Let's  call  the  butler  up,  for  he  speaks  Latin, 

"  And  that  will  daunt  the  devil." 


10  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

BER.  Looks  it  not  like  the  king  ?  mark  it,  Ho- 
ratio. 

HOR.  Most  like: — it  harrows  me3  with  fear,  and 
wonder. 

BER.  It  would  be  spoke  to. 

MAR.  Speak  to  it,  Horatio. 

HOR.  What  art  thou,  that  usurp'st  this  time  of 

night, 

Together  with  that  fair  and  warlike  form 
In  which  the  majesty  of  buried  Denmark 
Did  sometimes  march  ?  by  heaven  1  charge  thee, 

speak. 

MAR.  It  is  offended. 

BER.  See  !  it  stalks  away. 

HOR.  Stay ;  speak  :  speak  I  charge  thee,  speak. 

[Exit  Ghost. 
MAR.  'Tis  gone,  and  will  not  answer. 

BER.  How  now,  Horatio  ?  you  tremble,  and  look 

pale : 

Is  not  this  something  more  than  fantasy  ? 
What  think  you  of  it  ? 

HOR.  Before  my  God,  I  might  not  this  believe, 
Without  the  sensible  and  true  avouch 
Of  mine  own  eyes. 

In  like  manner  the  honest  Butler  in  Mr.  Addison's  Drummer, 
recommends  the  Steward  to  speak  Latin  to  the  Ghost  in  that 
play.  REED. 

3 it  harrows  me  &c.]  To  harroiu  is  to  conquer,  to  sub- 
due. The  word  is  of  Saxon  origin.  So,  in  the  old  black  letter 
romance  of  Syr  Eglamoure  of  Artoys  : 

"  He  swore  by  him  that  harrowed  hell." 
Milton  has  adopted  this  phrase  in  his  Comus  : 

"  Amaz'd  I  stood,  harrow*  d  with  grief  andyear." 

STEEVENS. 


ac.i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  11 

MAR.  Is  it  not  like  the  king  ? 

HOR.  As  thou  art  to  thyself: 
Such  was  the  very  armour  he  had  on, 
When  he  the  ambitious  Norway  combated  ; 
So  frown' d  he  once,  when,  in  an  angry  parle,4 
He  smote  the  sledded5  Polack  on  the  ice.6 
'Tis  strange, 

4 -an  angry  parle,]     This  is  one  of  the  affected  words  in* 

troduced  by  Lyly-     So,  in  The  Two  wise  Men,  and  all  the  rest 
Fools,\6\Q: 

"  that  you  told  me  at  our  last  parle."     STEEVENS. 

4 sledded — ]     A  sled,  or  sledge,  is  a  carriage  without 

wheels,  made  use  of  in  the  cold  countries.    So,  in  Tamburlainet 
or  the  Scythian  Shepherd,  1590 : 

" upon  an  ivory  sled 

"  Thou  shalt  be  drawn  among  the  frozen  poles.'* 

STEEVENS, 

6  He  smote  the  sledded  Polack  on  the  ice."]  Pole-ax  in  the  com- 
mon editions.  He  epeaks  of  a  Prince  of  Poland  whom  he  slew 
in  battle.  He  uses  the  word  Polack  again,  Act  II.  sc.  iv. 

POPE, 

Polack  was,  in  that  age,  the  term  for  an  inhabitant  of  Poland: 
Polaque,  French.  As  in  F.  Davison's  translation  of  Passeratius's 
epitaph  on  Henry  III.  of  France,  published  by  Camden: 

"  Whether  thy  chance  or  choice  thee  hither  brings, 

**  Stay,  passenger,  and  wail  the  hap  of  kings. 

"  This  little  stone  a  great  king's  heart  doth  hold, 

"  Who  rul'd  the  fickle  French  and  Polacks  bold : 

"  Whom,  with  a  mighty  warlike  host  attended, 

"  With  trait'rous  knife  a  cowled  monster  ended. 

"  So  frail  are  even  the  highest  earthly  things! 

"  Go,  passenger,  and  wail  the  hap  of  kings."    JOHNSON. 

Again,  in  The  White  Devil,  or  Vittoria  Corombona,  &c. 
1612 : 

" 1  scorn  him 

"  Like  a  shav'd  Polack — ."     STEEVENS. 

All  the  old  copies  have  Polax.  Mr.  Pope  and  the  subsequent 
editors  read — Polack  ;  but  the  corrupted  word  shows,  I  think, 
that  Shakspeare  wrote — Polacks.  MALONE. 

With  Polack  for  Polander,  the  transcriber,  or  printer,  plight 


12  HAMLET,  ACTI. 

MAR.  Thus,  twice  before,  and  jump  at  this  dead 

hour,7 
With  martial  stalk  hath  he  gone  by  our  watch. 

HOR.  In  what  particular  thought  to  work,8  I 

know  not ; 

But,  in  the  gross  and  scope9  of  mine  opinion, 
This  bodes  some  strange  eruption  to  our  state. 

MAR.  Good  now,  sit  down,  and  tell  me,  he  that 

knows, 

Why  this  same  strict  and  most  observant  watch 
So  nightly  toils  the  subject  of  the  land  ? 

have  no  acquaintance ;  he  therefore  substituted  pole-ax  as  the 
only  word  of  like  sound  that  was  familiar  to  his  ear.  Unluckily, 
however,  it  happened  that  the  singular  of  the  latter  has  the  same 
sound  as  the  plural  of  the  former.  Hence  it  has  been  supposed 
that  Shakspeare  meant  to  write  Polacks,  We  cannot  well  sup- 
pose that  in  a  parley  the  King  belaboured  many,  as  it  is  not 
likely  that  provocation  was  given  by  more  than  one,  or  that  on 
such  an  occasion  he  would  have  condescended  to  strike  a  meaner 
person  than  a  prince.  STEEVENS. 

7 jump  at  this  dead  hour,"]    So,  the  4to.  1604.  The  folio 

—just.     STEEVENS. 

The  correction  was  probably  made  by  the  author.   JOHNSON. 

In  the  folio  we  sometimes  find  a  familiar  word  substituted  for 
one  more  ancient.  MALONE. 

Jump  and  just  were  synonymous  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare. 
Ben  Jonson  speaks  of  verses  made  on  jump  names,  i.  e.  name* 
that  suit  exactly.  Nash  says — "  and  jumpe  imitating  a  verse  in 
As  in  praesenti."  So,  in  Chapman's  May  Day,  1611 : 

"  Your  appointment  was  jumpe  at  three,  with  me." 
Again,  in  M.  Kyffin's  translation  of  the  Andria  of  Terence, 
1588: 

"  Comes  he  this  day  so  jump  in  the  very  time  of  this 
marriage  ?"     STEEVENS. 

'  In  uhat  particular  thought  to  ivork,]  i.  e.  What  particular 
train  of  thinking  to  follow.  STEEVENS. 

9 gross  and  scope — ]  General  thoughts,  and  tendency  at 

largo.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  r.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  13 

And  why  such  daily  cast1  of  brazen  cannon, 
And  foreign  mart  for  implements  of  war ; 
Why  such  impress  of  shipwrights,2  whose  sore  task 
Does  not  divide  the  Sunday  from  the  week  : 
What  might  be  toward,  that  this  sweaty  haste 
Doth  make  the  night  joint-labourer  with  the  day; 
Who  is't,  that  can  inform  me  ? 

HOR.  That  can  I ; 

At  least,  the  whisper  goes  so.     Our  last  king, 
Whose  image  even  but  now  appear*  d  to  us, 
Was,  as  you  know,  by  Fortinbras  of  Norway, 
Thereto  prick'd  on  by  a  most  emulate  pride, 
Dar'd  to  the  combat ;  in  which  our  valiant  Hamlet 
(For  so  this  side  of  our  known  world  esteem'd  him,) 
Did  slay  this  Fortinbras  j  who,  by  a  seaPd  com- 
pact, 
Well  ratified  by  law,  and  heraldry,3 

1  — — daily  cast — ]     The  quartos  read — cost.    STEEVENS. 

"  Why  such  impress  of  shipwrights,'}  Judge  Barrington,  Ob- 
servations on  the  more  ancient  Statutes,  p.  300,  having  observed 
that  Shakspeare  gives  English  manners  to  every  country  where 
his  scene  lies,  infers  from  this  passage,  that  in  the  time  even  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  shipwrights  as  well  as  seamen  were  forced  to 
serve.  WHALLEY. 

Impress  signifies  only  the  act  of  retaining  shipwrights  by  giving 
them  what  was  called  prest  money  (from  pret,  Fr.)  for  holding 
themselves  in  readiness  to  be  employed.  Thus,  Chapman,  in  hia 
version  of  the  second  Book  of  Homer's  Odyssey: 

"  I,  from  the  people  straight,  will  press  for  you 
"  Free  voluntaries; — ." 
See  Mr.  Douce's  note  on  King  Lear,  Act  IV.  sc.  vi. 

STEEVENS. 

3 by  laiv,  and  heraldry,"]  Mr.  Upton  says,  that  Shak- 
speare sometimes  expresses  one  thing  by  two  substantives,  and 
that  laiv  and  heraldry  means,  by  the  herald  laws.  So,  in  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  Act  IV  : 

"  Where  rather  I  expect  victorious  life, 

"  Than  death  and  honour." 
i.  e.  honourable  death.     STEEVENS. 


14  HAMLET,  ACTI. 

iDid  forfeit,  with  his  life,  all  those  his  lands, 

Which  he  stood  seiz'd  of,  to  the  conqueror : 

Against  the  which,  a  moiety  competent 

Was  gaged  by  our  king;  which  had  return'd 

To  the  inheritance  of  Fortinbras, 

Had  he  been  vanquisher;  as,  by  the  same  co-mart, 

And  carriage  of  the  article  design'd,4 

Puttenham,  in  his  Art  of  Poesie,  speaks  of  The  Figure  of 
Twynnes:  "  horses  and  barbes,  for  barbed  horses,  vcntm  and 
dartes,  for  venitnous  dartes,"  &c.  FARMER. 

law,  and  heraldry]     That  is,  according  to  the  forms  of 

law  and  heraldry.  When  the  right  of  property  was  to  be  deter- 
mined by  combat,  the  rules  of  heraldry  were  to  be  attended  to, 
as  well  as  those  of  law.  M.  MASON. 

i.  e.  to  be  well  ratified  by  the  rules  of  law,  and  the  forms  pre- 
scribed jurefeciali;  such  as  proclamation,  &c.  MALONE. 

4 as,  by  the  same  co-mart, 

And  carriage  of  the  article  design'd,]  Co-mart  signifies  a 
bargain,  and  carrying  of  the  article,  the  covenant  entered  into 
to  confirm  that  bargain.  Hence  we  see  the  common  reading 
[covenant]  makes  a  tautology.  WARBURTON. 

Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  The  folio  reads — as  by  the  same  co- 
venant :  for  which  the  late  editions  have  given  us — as  by  that 
covenant. 

Co-mart  is,  I  suppose,  a  joint  bargain,  a  word  perhaps  of  our 
poet's  coinage.  A  mart  signifying  a  great  fair  or  market,  he 
would  not  have  scrupled  to  have  written — to  mart,  in  the  sense 
of  to  make  a  bargain.  In  the  preceding  speech  we  find  mart 
used  for  bargain  or  purchase.  MALONE. 

He  has  not  scrupled  so  to  write  in  Cymbeline,  Act  I.  sc,  vii : 

'* to  mart, 

.  "  As  in  a  Romish  stew,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

And  carriage  of  the  article  design'd,]  Carriage  is  import  : 
design'd,  i&Jbnned,  drawn  up  between  them.  JOHNSON. 

Cawdrey  in  his  Alphabetical  Table,  1604,  defines  the  verb 
design  thus  :  **  To  marke  out  or  appoint  for  any  purpose."  See 
also  Minsheu's  Diet.  1617 :  "  To  designe  or  shew  by  a  token." 
Designed  is  yet  used  in  this  sense  in  Scotland.  The  old  copies 
have  deseigne.  The  correction  was  made  by  the  editor  of  the 
second  folio.  MALONE. 


sc.  I.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  15 

His  fell  to  Hamlet :  Now,  sir,  young  Fortinbras, 

Of  unimproved  mettle  hot  and  full,5 

Hath  in  the  skirts  of  Norway,  here  and  there, 

Shark' d  up  a  list  of  landless  resolutes,6 

For  food  and  diet,  to  some  enterprize 

That  hath  a  stomach  in't  :7  which  is  no  other 

(As  it  doth  well  appear  unto  our  state,) 

But  to  recover  of  us,  by  strong  hand, 

And  terms  compulsatory,8  those  'foresaid  lands 

So  by  his  father  lost :  And  this,  I  take  it, 

Is  the  main  motive  of  our  preparations ; 

The  source  of  this  our  watch  ;  and  the  chief  head 

Of  this  post-haste  and  romage9  in  the  land. 

4  Of  unimproved  &c.]  Full  of  unimproved  mettle,  is  full  of 
spirit  not  regulated  or  guided  by  knowledge  or  experience. 

JOHNSON. 

0  Shark'd  up  a  list  &c.]  I  believe,  to  shark  up  means  to  pick 
up  without  distinction,  as  the  shark-fish  collects  his  prey.  The 
quartos  read  lawless  instead  of  landless.  STEEVENS. 

7  That  hath  a  stomach  in't  „•]     Stomach,  in  the  time  of  our 
author,  was  used  for  constancy,  resolution.     JOHNSON. 

8  And  terms  compulsatory,]     Thus  the  quarto,  1604.     The 
folio — compulsative.     STEEVENS. 

9 romage — ] — Tumultuous  hurry.     JOHNSON. 

Commonly  written — rummage.  I  am  not,  however,  certain 
that  the  word  romage  has  been  properly  explained.  The  fol^ 
lowing  passage  in  Hackluyt's  Voyages,  1599,  Vol.  II.  Ppp  3, 
seems  indicative  of  a  different  meaning:  "  — the  ships  growne 
foule,  unroomaged,  and  scarcely  able  to  beare  any  saile"  &c. 
Again,  Vol.  III.  88 :  "  —  the  mariners  were  romaging  their 
shippes"  &c. 

Romage,  on  shipboard,  must  have  signified  a  scrupulous  ex- 
amination into  the  state  of  the  vessel  and  its  stores.  Respecting 
land-service,  the  same  term  implied  a  strict  enquiry  into  the 
kingdom,  that  means  of  defence  might  be  supplied  where  they 
were  wanted.  STEEVENS. 

Rummage,  is  properly  explained  by  Johnson  himself  in  his 
Dictionary,  as  it  is  at  present  daily  used, — to  search  for  any 
thing.  HARRIS, 


16  HAMLET,  ACT  t. 

\_BER.  I  think,1  it  be  no  other,  but  even  so : 
Well  may  it  sort,2  that  this  portentous  figure 
Comes  armed  through  our  watch ;  so  like  the  king 
That  was,  and  is,  the  question  of  these  wars.3 

HOR.  A  mote  it  is,*  to  trouble  the  mind*s  eye. 
In  the  most  high  and  palmy  state  of  Rome,5 

1  [/  think,  &c.]  These,  and  all  other  lines,  confined  within 
crotchets,  throughout  this  play,  are  omitted  in  the  folio  edition 
of  1623.  The  omissions  leave  the  play  sometimes  better  and 
sometimes  worse,  and  seem  made  only  for  the  sake  of  abbrevia- 
tion. JOHNSON. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  observe,  that  the  title  pages  of  the 
first  quartos  in  1604-  and  1605,  declare  this  play  to  be  enlarged 
to  almost  as  much  againe  as  it  was,  according  to  the  true  and  per- 
fect copy. 

Perhaps,  therefore,  many  of  its  absurdities,  as  well  as  beauties, 
arose  from  the  quantity  added  after  it  was  first  written.  Our 
poet  might  have  been  more  attentive  to  the  amplification  than 
the  coherence  of  his  fable. 

The  degree  of  credit  due  to  the  title-page  that  styles  the  MS. 
from  which  the  quartos  1604?  and  1605  were  printed,  the  true 
and  perfect  copy,  may  also  be  disputable.  I  cannot  help  suppo- 
sing this  publication  to  contain  all  Shakspeare  rejected,  as  well 
as  all  he  supplied.  By  restorations  like  the  former,  contending 
booksellers  or  theatres  might  have  gained  some  temporary  ad- 
vantage over  each  other,  which  at  this  distance  of  time  is  not 
to  be  understood.  The  patience  of  our  ancestors  exceeded  our 
own,  could  it  have  out-lasted  the  tragedy  of  Hamlet  as  it  is  now 
printed ;  for  it  must  have  occupied  almost  five  hours  in  repre- 
sentation. If,  however,  it  was  too  much  dilated  on  the  ancient 
stage,  it  is  as  injudiciously  contracted  on  the  modern  one. 

STEEVENS. 

*  Well  may  it  sort,"]  The  cause  and  effect  are  proportionate 
and  suitable.  JOHNSON. 

3 the  question  of  these  tears.]  The  theme  or  subject.   So, 

in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 

" You  were  the  word  of  war."    MALONE. 

4  A  mote  it  «,]  The  first  quarto  reads — a  moth.  STEEVENS. 
A  moth  was  only  the  old  spelling  of  mote,  as  I  suspected  in 
revising  a  passage  in  King  John,  Vol.  X.  p.  466,  n.  1,  where  we 
certainly  should  read  mote.  MALONE. 

'* palmy  state  of  Rome,'}     Palmy,  for  victorious.    POPE. 


sc.i.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  17 

A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell, 

The  graves  stood  tenantless,  and  the  sheeted  dead 

Did  squeak  and  gibber  in  the  Roman  streets. 

As,  stars  with  trains  of  fire  and  dews  of  blood, 
Disasters  in  the  sun;6  and  the  moist  star,7 

6  As,  stars  with  trains  ofjire  and  dews  of  blood, 

Disasters  in  the  sun;]  Mr.  Rowe  altered  these  lines,  be- 
cause they  have  insufficient  connection  with  the  preceding  ones, 
thus: 

Stars  shone  with  trains  of  fire,  dews  of  blood  fell, 

Disasters  veil'd  the  sun, . 

This  passage  is  not  in  the  folio.  By  the  quartos  therefore  our 
imperfect  text  is  supplied ;  for  an  intermediate  verse  being  evi- 
dently lost,  it  were  idle  to  attempt  a  union  that  never  was  in- 
tended. I  have  therefore  signified  the  supposed  deficiency  by 
a  vacan^space. 

When  Shakspeare  had  told  us  that  the  graves  stood  tenantless, 
&c.  which  are  wonders  confined  to  the  earth,  he  naturally  pro- 
ceeded to  say  (in  the  line  now  lost)  that  yet  oilier  prodigies  ap- 
peared in  the  sky;  and  these  phoenomena  he  exemplified  by  add- 
ing,-— As  [i.  e.  as  for  instance]  Stars  with  trains  of  fire,  &c. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II:  " — to  bear  the  inventory  of 
thy  shirts ;  as,  one  for  superfluity,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  Ill : 

"  Two  Cliffords,  as  the  father  and  the  son, 
"  And  two  Northumberlands  ; — " 
Again,  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors: 

"  They  say,  this  town  is  full  of  cozenage ; 
"  As,  nimble  jugglers  that  deceive  the  eye"  &c. 
Disasters  dimm'd  the  sun  ;~\     The  quarto,  1604,  reads : 

Disasters  in  the  sun  ; . 

For  the  emendation  I  am  responsible.  It  is  strongly  supported 
not  only  by  Plutarch's  account  in  The  Life  ofCcesar,  ["  also 
the  brightness  of  the  sunne  was  darkened,  the  which,  all  that 
yeare  through,  rose  very  pale,  and  shined  not  ow£,"]  but  by  va- 
rious passages  in  our  author's  works.  So,  in  The  Tempest: 

" I  have  be-dhnm'd 

"  The  noon-tide  stin." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  As  doth  the  blushing  discontented  sun, — 
"  When  he  perceives  the  envious  clouds  are  bent 
"  To  dim  his  glory." 
VOL.  XVIII.  C 


is  HAMLET, 

Upon  whose  influence  Neptune's  empire  stands, 
Was  sick  almost  to  dooms-day  with  eclipse. 

Again,  in  our  author's  18th  Sonnet: 

"  Sometimes  too  hot  the  eye  of  heaven  shines, 
"  And  often  is  his  gold  complexion  dimm'd." 
I  suspect  that  the  words  As  stars  are  a  corruption,  and  have 
no  doubt  that  either  a  line  preceding  or  following  the  first  of 
those  quoted  at  the  head  of  this  note,  has  been  lost ;  or  that  the 
beginning  of  one  line  has  been  joined  to  the  end  of  another,  the 
intervening  words  being  omitted.     That  such  conjectures  are 
not  merely  chimerical,  I  have  already  proved.      See  Vol.  XI. 
p.  376,  &c.  n.  3;  and  Vol.  XIV.  p.  351,  n.  8. 

The  following  lines  in  Julius  C&sar,  in  which  the  prodigies 
that  are  said  to  have  preceded  his  death,  are  recounted,  may 
throw  some  light  on  the  passage  before  us : 

" There  is  one  within, 

"  Besides  the  things  that  we  have  heard  and  seen, 
"  Recounts  most  horrid  sights  seen  by  the  watch. 
"  A  lioness  hath  whelped  in  the  streets ; 
"  And  graves  have  yawn'd  and  yielded  up  their  dead : 
"  Fierce  fiery  warriors  fight  upon  the  clouds, 
"  In  ranks,  and  squadrons,  and  right  form  of  war, 
"  Which  drizzled  blood  upon  the  capitol : 
"  The  noise  of  battle  hurtled  in  the  air, 
"  Horses  do  neigh,  and  dying  men  did  groan  ; 
"  And  ghosts  did  shriek  and  squeal  about  the  streets." 
The  lost  words  perhaps  contained  a  description  ofjiery  war- 
riors fighting  on  the  clouds,  or  of  brands  burning  bright  beneath 
the  stars. 

The  15th  Book  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  translated  by  Gold- 
ing,  in  which  an  account  is  given  of  the  prodigies  that  preceded 
Csesar's  death,  furnished  Shakspeare  with  some  of  the  images  in 
both  these  passages : 

" battels  fighting  in  the  clouds  with  crashing  armour 

flew, 
"  And  dreadful  trumpets  sounded  in  the  ayre,  and  homes 

eke  blew, 
**  As  warning  men  beforehand  of  the  mischiefe  that  did 

brew; 

"  And  Phoebus  also  looking  dim  did  cast  a  drowsie  light, 
"  Uppon  the  earth,  which  seemde  likewise  to  be  in  sory 

plighte : 

"  From  underneath   beneath    the   starres   brandes   oft 
seemde  burning  bright, 


sc.i.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  19 

And  even8  the  like  precurse  of  fierce  events,9 — 
As  harbingers  preceding  still  the  fates, 


"  It  often  rain'd  drops  of  blood.  The  morning  star  look'd 

blew, 
"  And  was  bespotted  here  and  there  with  specks  of  rustic 

hew. 

"  The  moone  had  also  spots  of  blood. — 
"  Salt  teares  from  ivorie  images  in  sundry  places  fell ; — 
"  The  dogges  did  howle,  and  every  where  appeared 

ghastly  sprights, 

"  And  with  an  earthquake  shaken  was  the  towne." — 
Plutarch  only  says,  that  "  the  sunne  was  darkened,"  that 
"  diverse  men  were  seen  going  up  and  down  in  fire ;"  there  were 
"  fires  in  the  element ;  sprites  were  scene  running  up  and  downe 
in  the  night,  and  solitarie  birds  sitting  in  the  great  market- 
place." 

The  disagreeable  recurrence  of  the  word  stars  in  the  second 
line  induces  me  to  believe  that  As  stars  in  that  which  precedes, 
is  a  corruption.  Perhaps  Shakspeare  wrote  : 

Astres  with  trains  of  fire, 

and  dews  of  blood 

Disasterous  dimmed  the  sun. 

The  word  astre  is  used  in  an  old  collection  of  poems  entitled 
Diana,  addressed  to  the  Earl  of  Oxenforde,  a  book  of  which  I 
know  not  the  date,  but  believe  it  was  printed  about  1580.  In 
Othello  we  have  antres,  a  word  exactly  of  a  similar  formation. 

MALONE. 

The  word — astre,  (which  is  no  where  else  to  be  found)  was 
affectedly  taken  from  the  French  by  John  Southern,  author  of 
the  poems  cited  by  Mr.  Malone.  This  wretched  plagiarist 
stands  indebted  both  for  his  verbiage  and  his  imagery  to  Ron- 
sard.  See  the  European  Magazine,  for  June,  1788,  p.  389. 

STEEVENS. 

7  and  the  moist  star,  &c.]    i.  e.  the  moon.     So,  in  Mar- 
lowe's Hero  and  Leander,  1598 : 

"  Not  that  night-wand'ring,  pale,  and  ixatry  star,"  &c. 

MALONE. 

8  And  even — ]     Not  only  such  prodigies  have  been  seen  in 
Rome,  but  the  elements  have  shown  our  countrymen  like  fore- 
runners and  foretokens  of  violent  events.     JOHNSON. 

9  precurse  of  fierce  events,"]    Fierce,  for  terrible. 

WARBURTON. 
C  2 


20  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

And  prologue  to  the  omen  coming  on,1 — 
Have  heaven  and  earth  together  demonstrated 
Unto  our  climatures  and  countrymen. — 3 


I  rather  believe  that  fierce  signifies  conspicuous,  glaring.     It 
is  used  in  a  somewhat  similar  sense  in  Timon  of  Athens: 
"  O  the  fierce  wretchedness  that  glory  brings !" 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VIII.  we  have  "fierce  vanities.*' 

STEEVENS. 

1  And  prologue  to  the  omen  coming  on,"]  But  prologue  and 
omen  are  merely  synonymous  here.  The  poet  means,  that  these 
strange  phcenomena  are  prologues  and  forerunners  of  the  events 
presag'a:  and  such  sense  the  slight  alteration  which  I  have  ven- 
tured to  make,  by  changing  omen  to  omen'd,  very  aptly  gives. 

THEOBALD. 

Omen,  for  fate.     WARBURTON. 

Hanmer  follows  Theobald. 

A  distich  from  the  life  of  Merlin,  by  Heywood,  however,  will 
show  that  there  is  no  occasion  for  correction : 

"  Merlin  well  vers'd  in  many  a  hidden  spell, 

"  His  countries  omen  did  long  since  foretell."    FARMER. 

Again,  in  The  Voicbreaker: 

"  And  much  I  fear  the  weakness  of  her  braine 
"  Should  draw  her  to  some  ominous  exigent." 
Omen,  I  believe,  is  danger.     STEEVEXS. 

And  even  the  like  precurse  offeree  events, 
As  harbingers  preceding  still  the  Jhtes, 

And  prologue  to  the  omen  coming  o«,]  So,  in  one  of  our  au- 
thor's poems : 

"  But  thou  shrieking  harbinger 
"  Foul  precurrer  of  the  fiend, 
"  Augur  of  the  fever's  end,"  &c. 

The  omen  coming  on  is,  the  approaching  dreadful  and  porten- 
tous event.  So,  in  King  Richard  III: 

"  Thy  name  is  ominous  to  children." 
i.  e.  (not  boding  ill  fortune,  but)  destructive  to  children. 
Again,  ibidem: 

"  O  Pomfret,  Pomfret,  O,  thou  bloody  prison, 
"  Fatal  and  ominous  to  noble  peers."     MALONE. 


7.  /.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  21 


Re-enter  Ghost. 

But,  soft ;  behold !  lo,  where  it  comes  again  ! 
I'll  cross  it,  though  it  blast  me. — Stay,  illusion  ! 
If  thou  hast  any  sound,2  or  use  of  voice, 
Speak  to  me : 

If  there  be  any  good  thing  to  be  done, 
That  may  to  thee  do  ease,  and  grace  to  me, 
Speak  to  me : 

If  thou  art  privy  to  thy  country's  fate, 
Which,  happily,  foreknowing  may  avoid, 
O,  speak! 

Or,  if  thou  hast  uphoarded3  in  thy  life 
Extorted  treasure  in  the  womb  of  earth, 
For  which,  they  say,  you  spirits  oft  walk  in  death, 

\_Cock  crows. 
Speak  of  it : — stay,  and  speak. — Stop  it,  Marcellus. 

MAR.  Shall  I  strike  at  it  with  my  partizan  ? 

HOR.  Do,  if  it  will  not  stand.4 

BER.  >Tis  here ! 

HOR.  'Tis  here ! 


*  If  thou  hast  any  sound,]  The  speech  of  Horatio  to  the 
spectre  is  very  elegant  and  noble,  and  congruous  to  the  com- 
mon traditions  of  the  causes  of  apparitions.  JOHNSON. 

3  Or,  if  thou  hast  uphoarded  &c.]  So,  in  Decker's  Knight's 
Conjuring,  &c.  "  — If  any  of  them  had  bound  the  spirit  of  gold 
by  any  charmes  in  canes,  or  in  iron  fetters  under  the  ground, 
they  should  for  their  own  soules  quiet  (which  questionlesse  else 
would  "whine  up  and  down}  if  not  for  the  good  of  their  children, 
release  it."  STEEVENS. 

Stop  it,  Marcellus.- 


Hor.  Do,  if  it  will  not  stand.~\  I  am  unwilling  to  suppose 
that  Shakspeare  could  appropriate  these  absurd  effusions  to  Ho- 
ratioy  who  is  a  scholar,  and  has  sufficiently  proved  his  good  un- 


22  HAMLET,  ACT  I. 

MAR.  'Tis  gone  !  [Exit  Ghost. 

We  do  it  wrong,  being  so  majestical, 
To  offer  it  the  show  of  violence ; 
For  it  is,  as  the  air,  invulnerable,5 
And  our  vain  blows  malicious  mockery. 

BER.  It  was  about  to  speak,  when  the  cock  crew. 

HOR.  And  then  it  started  like  a  guilty  thing 
Upon  a  fearful  summons.     I  have  heard, 

derstanding  by  the  propriety  of  his  addresses  to  the  phantom. 
Such  a  man  therefore  must  have  known  that — 
"  As  easy  might  he  the  intrenchant  air 
"  With  his  keen  sword  impress," 

as  commit  any  act  of  violence  on  the  royal  shadow.  The  words 
— Stop  it,  Marcellus. — and  Do,  if  it  will  not  stand — better  suit 
the  next  speaker,  Bernardo,  who,  in  the  true  spirit  of  an  unlet- 
tered officer,  nihil  non  arroget  arniis.  Perhaps  the  first  idea 
that  occurs  to  a  man  of  this  description,  is  to  strike  at  what 
offends  him.  Nicholas  Poussin,  in  his  celebrated  picture  of  the 
Crucifixion,  has  introduced  a  similar  occurrence.  While  lots 
are  casting  for  the  sacred  vesture,  the  graves  are  giving  up  their 
dead.  This  prodigy  is  perceived  by  one  of  the  soldiers,  who 
instantly  grasps  his  sword,  as  if  preparing  to  defend  himself,  or 
resent  such  an  invasion  from  the  other  world. 

The  two  next  speeches — *  Tis  here  ! — *  Tis  here  ! — may  be  al- 
lotted to  Marcellus  and  Bernardo;  and  the  third — ' Tis  gone! 
&c.  to  Horatio,  whose  superiority  of  character  indeed  seems  to 
demand  it. — As  the  text  now  stands,  Marcellus  proposes  to 
strike  the  Ghost  with  his  partizan,  and  yet  afterwards  is  made 
to  descant  on  the  indecorum  and  impotence  of  such  an  attempt. 

The  names  of  speakers  have  so  often  been  confounded  by  the 
first  publishers  of  our  author,  that  I  suggest  this  change  with 
less  hesitation  than  I  should  express  concerning  any  conjecture 
that  could  operate  to  the  disadvantage  of  his  words  or  meaning. — 
Had  the  assignment  of  the  old  copies  been  such,  would  it  have 
been  thought  liable  to  objection  ?  STEEVENS. 

3  it  is,  as  the  air,  invulnerable,]     So,  in  Macbeth: 

"  As  easy  may'st  thou  the  intrenchant  air 
"  With  thy  keen  sword  impress." 
Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  Against  the  invulnerable  clouds  of  heaven." 

MALOKE. 


ac.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  23 

The  cock,  that  is  the  trumpet  to  the  morn,6 
Doth  with  his  lofty  and  shrill-sounding  throat 
Awake  the  god  of  day ;  and,  at  his  warning, 
Whether  in  sea  or  fire,  in  earth  or  air,7 

fi  The  cocky  that  is  the  trumpet  to  the  morn,]  So,  the  quarto, 
1604.  Folio — to  the  day. 

In  England's  Parnassus,  8vo.  1600,  I  find  the  two  following 
lines  ascribed  to  Drayton,  but  know  not  in  whieh  of  his  poems 
they  are  found : 

"  And  now  the  cocke,  the  morning's  trumpeter, 
"  Play'd  huntsup  for  the  day-star  to  appear." 
Mr.  Gray  has  imitated  our  poet : 

"  The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn, 
"  No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed." 

MALONE. 

Our  Cambridge  poet  was  more  immediately  indebted  to 
Philips's  Cider,  B.  I.  753 : 

"  When  Chanticleer,  with  clarion  shrill,  recalls 
"  The  tardy  day,—." 

Thus  also,  Spenser,  in  his  Fairy  Queen,  B.  I.  c.  ii.  s.  1 : 
"  And  cheerful  Chanticleer  uith  his  note  shrill.'* 

STEEVENS. 

7  Whether  in  sea  &c.]  According  to  the  pneumatology  of  that 
time,  every  element  was  inhabited  by  its  peculiar  order  of  spirits, 
who  had  dispositions  different,  according  to  their  various  places  of 
abode.  The  meaning  therefore  is,  that  all  spirits  extravagant, 
wandering  out  of  their  element,  whether  aerial  spirits  visiting 
earth,  or  earthly  spirits  ranging  the  air,  return  to  their  station,  to 
their  proper  limits  in  which  they  are  confined.  We  might  read : 

" And  at  his  warning 

"  Th*  extravagant  and  erring  spirit  hies 

"  To  his  confine,  whether  in  sea  or  air, 

*?  Or  earth,  or  fire.     And  of,"  &e. 

But  this  change,  though  it  would  smooth  the  construction,  is  not 
necessary,  and,  being  unnecessary,  should  not  be  made  against 
authority.  JOHNSON. 

A  Chorus  in  Andreini's  drama,  called  Adamo,  written  in  1613, 
consists  of  spirits  of  fire,  air,  water,  and  hell,  or  subterraneous, 
being  the  exiled  angels.  "  Choro  di  Spiriti  ignei,  aerei,  acqua- 
tici,  ed  infernali,"  &c.  These  are  the  demons  to  which  Shak- 
speare  alludes.  These  spirits  were  supposed  to  controul  the  ele- 
ments in  which  they  respectively  resided ;  and  when  formally  in- 
yoked  or  commanded  by  a  magician,  to  produce  tempests,  con- 


24  .  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

The  extravagant8  and  erring  spirit9  hies 

flagrations,  floods,  and  earthquakes.  For  thus  says  The  Spanish 
Mandeville  of  Miracles,  &c.  1600:  "  Those  which  are  in  the 
middle  region  of  the  ayre,  and  those  that  are  under  them  nearer 
the  earth,  are  those,  which  sometimes  out  of  the  ordinary  ope- 
ration of  nature  doe  moove  the  windes  with  greater  fury  than 
they  are  accustomed;  and  do,  out  of  season,  congeele  the 
cloudes,  causing  it  to  thunder,  lighten,  hayle,  and  to  destroy 

the  grasse,  corne,  &c.  &c. Witches  and  negromancers  worke 

many  such  like  things  by  the  help  of  those  spirits,"  &c.  Ibid. 
Of  this  school  therefore  was  Shakspeare's  rroepero  in  The 
Tempest.  T.  WARTON. 

Bourne  of  Newcastle,  in  his  Antiquities  of  the  common  People, 
informs  us,  **  It  is  a  received  tradition  among  the  vulgar,  that 
at  the  time  of  cock-crowing,  the  midnight  spirits  forsake  these 
lower  regions,  and  go  to  their  proper  places. — Hence  it  is,  (says 
he)  that  in  country  places,  where  the  way  of  life  requires  more 
early  labour,  they  always  go  chearfully  to  work  at  that  time ; 
whereas  if  they  are  called  abroad  sooner,  they  imagine  every 
thing  they  see  a  wandering  ghost."  And  he  quotes  on  this  oc- 
casion, as  all  his  predecessors  had  done,  the  well-known  lines 
from  the  first  hymn  of  Prudentius.  I  know  not  whose  transla- 
tion he  gives  us,  but  there  is  an  old  one  by  Heywood.  The 
pious  chansons,  the  hymns  and  carrols,  which  Shakspeare  men- 
tions presently,  were  usually  copied  from  the  elder  Christian 
poets.  FARMER. 

8  The  extravagant — ]   i.  e.  got  out  of  his  bounds. 

WARBURTON. 

So,  in  Nobody  and  Somebody,,  1598  :  " they  took  me  up 

for  a  'stravagant." 

Shakspeare  imputes  the  same  effect  to  Aurora's  harbinger  in 
the  last  scene  of  the  third  Act  of  the  Midsummer-Night's  Dream. 
See  Vol.  IV.  p.  432,  n.  9.  STEEVENS. 

9  erring  spirit,]    Erring  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of 

wandering.     Ihus,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  fourth  Book  of 
Homer's  Odyssey,  Telemachus  calls  Ulysses — 

"  My  erring  father : — " 

And  in  the  ninth  Book,  Ulysses  describing  himself  and  his  com- 
panions to  the  Cyclop,  says — 

" Erring  Grecians  we, 

"  From  Troy  were  turning  homewards — " 
Erring,  in  short,  is  erraticns.     STEEVENS. 


ac.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  25 

To  his  confine :  and  of  the  truth  herein 
This  present  object  made  probation. 

MAR.  It  faded  on  the  crowing  of  the  cock.1 
Some  say,  that  ever  'gainst  that  season  comes 
Wherein  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated, 
This  bird  of  dawning  singeth  all  night  long : 
And  then,  they  say,  no  spirit  dares  stir  abroad ;  * 
The  nights  are  wholesome  ;  then  no  planets  strike, 
No  fairy  takes,3  nor  witch  hath  power  to  charm, 
So  hallow'd  and  so  gracious  is  the  time. 

HOR.  So  have  I  heard,  and  do  in  part  believe  it. 
But,  look,  the  morn,  in  russet  mantle  clad, 

1  It  Jaded  on  the  crowing  of  the  cock.']  This  is  a  very  ancient 
superstition.  Philostratus  giving  an  account  of  the  apparition  of 
Achilles'  shade  to  Apollonius  Tyaneus,  says  that  it  vanished  with 
a  little  glimmer  as  soon  as  the  cock  crowed.  Vit.  Apol.  iv.  16. 

STEEVENS. 

Faded  has  here  its  original  sense ;  it  vanished.  Vado,  Lat. 
So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  Book  I.  c.  v.  st.  15 : 

"  He  stands  amazed  how  he  thence  should  Jade." 
That  our  author  uses  the  word  in  this  sense,  appears  from  the 
following  lines : 

" The  morning  cock  crew  loud ; 

"  And  at  the  sound  it  shrunk  in  haste  away, 
"  And  vanish'd  from  our  sight."     MALONE. 

dares  stir  abroad;]      Thus   the    quarto.     The   folio 


reads — can  walk.     STEEVENS. 

Spirit  was  formerly  used  as  a  monosyllable :  sprite.  The 
quarto,  1604,  has — dare  stir  abroad.  Perhaps  Shakspeare 
wrote — no  spirits  dare  stir  abroad.  The  necessary  correction 
was  made  in  a  late  quarto  of  no  authority,  printed  in  1637. 

MALONE. 

3  No  fairy  takes,]  No  fairy  strikes  with  lameness  or  diseases. 
This  sense  of  take  is  frequent  in  this  author.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  : 

"  And  there  he  blasts  the  tree,  and  takes  the  cattle." 

STEEVENS. 


26  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Walks  o'er  the  dew  of  yon  high  eastern  hill  :* 
Break  we  our  watch  up ;  and,  by  my  advice, 
Let  us  impart  what  we  have  seen  to-night 
Unto  young  Hamlet :  for,  upon  my  life, 
This  spirit,  dumb  to  us,  will  speak  to  him : 
Do  you  consent  we  shall  acquaint  him  with  it, 
As  needful  in  our  loves,  fitting  our  duty  ? 

MAR.  Let's  do't,  I  pray ;  and  I  this  morning 

know 
Where  we  shall  find  him  most  convenient. 

[Exeunt. 


4  ——high  eastern  hill:']  The  old  quarto  has  it  better  east- 
ward. WARBURTON. 

The  superiority  of  the  latter  of  these  readings  is  not,  to  me 
at  least,  very  apparent.  I  find  the  former  used  in  Lingua,  &c. 
1607: 

" and  overclirabs 

"  Yonder  gilt  eastern  hills." 

Again,  in  Browne's  Britannia's  Pastorals,  Book  IV.  Sat.  iv. 
p.  75,  edit.  1616 : 

"  And  ere  the  sunne  had  clymb'd  the  eastern  hils." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  thirteenth  Book  of  Ho- 
mer's Odyssey: 

" Ulysses  still 

"  An  eye  directed  to  the  eastern  hill." 
Eastern  and  eastward,  alike  signify  toward  the  east. 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  27 

SCENE  II. 
The  same.     A  Room  of  State  in  the  same. 

Enter  the  King,  Queen,  HAMLET,  POLONIUS, 
LAERTES,  VOLTIMAND,  CORNELIUS,  Lords,  and 
Attendants. 

KING.  Though  yet  of  Hamlet  our  dear  brother's 

death 

The  memory  be  green ;  and  that  it  us  befitted5 
To  bear  our  hearts  in  grief,  and  our  whole  kingdom 
To  be  contracted  in  one  brow  of  woe  ; 
Yet  so  far  hath  discretion  fought  with  nature, 
That  we  with  wisest  sorrow  think  on  him, 
Together  with  remembrance  of  ourselves. 
Therefore  our  sometime  sister,  now  our  queen, 
The  imperial  jointress  of  this  warlike  state, 
Have  we,  as  'twere,  with  a  defeated  joy, — 
With  one  auspicious,  and  one  dropping  eye  ;6 

3  and  that  it  us  befitted — 3     Perhaps  our  author  ellipti- 

cally  wrote 

and  us  befitted — 

i.  e.  and  that  it  befitted  us.     STEEVENS. 

0  With  one  auspicious,  and  one  dropping  eye;]  Thus  the  folio. 
The  quarto,  with  somewhat  less  of  quaintness : 
With  an  auspicious  and  a  dropping  eye. 

The  same  thought,  however,  occurs  inThe  Winter's  Tale:  "  She 
had  one  eye  declined  for  the  loss  of  her  husband ;  another  ele- 
vated that  the  oracle  was  fulfilled." 

After  all,  perhaps,  we  have  here  only  the  ancient  proverbial 
phrase — "  To  cry  with  one  eye  and  laugh  with  the  other," 
buckram'd  by  our  author  for  the  service  of  tragedy.  See  Ray's 
Collection,  edit.  1768,  p.  188.  STEEVENS. 

Dropping  in  this  line  probably  means  depressed  or  cast  down- 
wards: an  interpretation  which  is  strongly  supported  by  the 


28  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

With  mirth  in  funeral,  and  with  dirge  in  marriage, 
In  equal  scale  weighing  delight  and  dole,— 
Taken  to  wife :  nor  have  we  herein  barr'd 
Your  better  wisdoms,  which  have  freely  gone 
With  this  affair  along: — For  all,  our  thanks. 

Now  follows,  that  you  know,  young  Fortinbras, — 
Holding  a  weak  supposal  of  our  worth ; 
Or  thinking,  by  our  late  dear  brother's  death, 
Our  state  to  be  disjoint  and  out  of  frame, 
Colleagued  with  this  dream  of  his  advantage,7 
He  hath  not  fail'd  to  pester  us  with  message, 
Importing  the  surrender  of  those  lands 
Lost  by  his  father,  with  all  bands  of  law, 
To  our  most  valiant  brother. — So  much  for  him. 
Now  for  ourself,  and  for  this  time  of  meeting. 
Thus  much  the  business  is :  We  have  here  writ 
To  Norway,  uncle  of  young  Fortinbras,— 
Who,  impotent  and  bed-rid,  scarcely  hears 
Of  this  his  nephew's  purpose, — to  suppress 


passage  already  quoted  from  The  Winter's  Tale.  It  may,  how- 
ever, signify  'weeping.  "  Dropping  of  the  eyes"  was  a  technical 
expression  in  our  author's  time. — "  If  the  spring  be  wet  with 
much  south  wind, — the  next  summer  will  happen  agues  and 
blearness,  dropping  of  the  eyes,  and  pains  of  the  bowels."  Hop- 
ton's  Concordance  of  Years,  8vo.  1616. 

Again,  in  Montaigne's  Essaies,  1603:  "  —  —they  never  saw 
any  man  there — with  eyes  dropping,  or  crooked  and  stooping 
through  age."  MALONE. 

7  Colleagued  ivith  this  dream  of  his  advantage,"]  The  meaning 
is, — He  goes  to  war  so  indiscreetly,  and  unprepared,  that  he  has 
no  allies  to  support  him  but  a  dream,  with  which  he  is  Colleagued 
or  confederated.  WARBURTON. 

Mr.  Theobald  in  his  Shakspeare  Restored,  proposed  to  read — 
collogued,  but  in  his  edition  very  properly  adhered  to  the  ancient 
copies.  MALONE. 

This  dream  of  his  advantage  (as  Mr.  Mason  observes)  means 
only  "  this  imaginary  advantage,  which  Fortinbras  hoped  to  de- 
rive from  the  unsettled  state  of  the  kingdom."  STEE  VENS. 


sc.ii.        PRINCE' OF  DENMARK.  29 

His  further  gait  herein  ; 8  in  that  the  levies, 

The  lists,  and  full  proportions,  are  all  made 

Out  of  his  subject: — and  we  here  despatch 

You,  good  Cornelius,  and  you,  Voltimand, 

For  bearers  of  this  greeting  to  old  Norway ; 

Giving  to  you  no  further  personal  power 

To  business  with  the  king,  more  than  the  scope9 

Of  these  dilated  articles l  allow. 

Farewell ;  and  let  your  haste  commend  your  duty. 

COR.  VOL.  In  that,  and  all  things,  will  we  show 
our  duty. 

KING.  We  doubt  it  nothing;  heartily  farewell. 

[_Exeunt  VOLTIMAND  and  CORNELIUS. 
And  now,  Laertes,  what's  the  news  with  you  ? 
You  told  us  of  some  suit ;  What  is't,  Laertes  ? 
You  cannot  speak  of  reason  to  the  Dane, 
And  lose  your  voice :  What  would' st  thou  beg, 
Laertes, 

8  to  suppress 

His  further  gait  herein;']  Gate  or  gait  is  here  used  in  the 
northern  sense,  for  proceeding,  passage;  from  the  A.  S.  verb  gae. 
A  gate  for  a  path,  passage,  or  street,  is  still  current  in  the  north. 

PERCY, 

So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,  Act  V.  sc.  ii : 
"  Every  fairy  take  his  gait."     HARRIS. 

9  •• more  than  the  scope — ]  More  than  is  comprized  in  the 

general  design  of  these  articles,  which  you  may  explain  in  a  more 
diffused  and  dilated  style.     JOHNSON. 

1  these   dilated  articles   &c.]     i.  e.   the   articles   when 

dilated.    MUSGRAVE. 

The  poet  should  have  written  allows.     Many  writers  fall  into 
this  error,  when  a  plural  noun  immediately  precedes  the  verb ;  as 
I  have  had  occasion  to  observe  in  a  note  on  a  controverted  pas- 
sage in  Love's  Labour's  Lost.     So,  in  Julius  Ccssar  : 
"  The  posture  of  your  bloius  are  yet  unknown." 

Again,  in  Cymbeline:  " and  the  approbation  of  those  are 

wonderfully  to  extend  him,"  &c.     MALONE. 

Surely,  all  such  defects  in  our  author,  were  merely  the  errors 
of  illiterate  transcribers  or  printers.     STEEVENIS, 


30  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

That  shall  not  be  my  offer,  not  thy  asking  ? 
The  head  is  not  more  native  to  the  heart, 
The  hand  more  instrumental  to  the  mouth, 
Than  is  the  throne  of  Denmark  to  thy  father.2 
What  would'st  thou  have,  Laertes  ? 

LAER.  My  dread  lord, 

Your  leave  and  favour  to  return  to  France ; 
From  whence  though  willingly  I  came  to  Den- 
mark, 

To  show  my  duty  in  your  coronation ; 
Yet  now,  I  must  confess,  that  duty  done, 
My  thoughts  and  wishes  bend  again  toward  France, 
And  bow  them  to  your  gracious  leave  and  pardon. 

KING.  Have  you  your  father's  leave  ?  What  says 
Polonius  ? 

POL.  He  hath,  my  lord,  [wrung  from  me  my  slow 

leave,3 

By  laboursome  petition ;  and,  at  last, 
Upon  his  will  I  seaPd  my  hard  consent:] 
I  do  beseech  you,  give  him  leave  to  go. 

KING.  Take  thy  fair  hour,  Laertes  j  time  be  thine, 


*  The  head  is  not  more  native  to  the  heart, 

The  hand  more  instrumental  to  the  mouth, 

Than  is  the  throne  of  Denmark  to  thy  father.']  The  sense 
seems  to  be  this  :  The  head  is  not  formed  to  be  more  useful  to 
the  heart,  the  hand  is  not  more  at  the  service  of  the  mouth,  than 
my  power  is  at  your  father's  service.  That  is,  he  may  command 
me  to  the  utmost,  he  may  do  what  he  pleases  with  my  kingly 
authority.  STEEVENS. 

By  native  to  the  heart  Dr.  Johnson  understands,  "  natural  and 
congenial  to  it,  born  with  it,  and  co-operating  with  it." 

Formerly  the  heart  was  supposed  the  seat  of  wisdom ;  and 
hence  the  poet  speaks  of  the  close  connection  between  the  heart 
and  head.  See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  12,  n.  7.  MALONE. 

3  wrung  from  me  my  slow  leave,"]     These  words  and  the 

two  following  lines  are  omitted  in  the  folio.    MALONE. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  31 

And  thy  best  graces :  spend  it  at  thy  will.4— 
But  now,  my  cousin  Hamlet,  and  my  son, 

HAM.  A  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind.5 

\_Aside. 

4  Take  thy  fair  hour,  Laertes;  time  be  thine, 

And  thy  best  graces:  spend  it  at  thy  iuill.~\  The  sense  is,— 
You  have  my  leave  to  go,  Laertes ;  make  the  fairest  use  you 
please  of  your  time,  and  spend  it  at  your  will  with  the  fairest 
graces  you  are  master  of.  THEOBALD. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

" and  bear  the  inventory 

"  Of  your  best  graces  in  your  mind."     STEE  YENS. 

I  rather  think  this  line  is  in  want  of  emendation.     I  read : 

. time  is  thine. 

And  my  best  graces:  spend  it  at  thy  fuill.     JOHNSON. 

5  Ham.  A  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind.]     Kind  is 
the  Teutonick  word  for  child.     Hamlet  therefore  answers  with 
propriety,  to  the  titles  of  cousin  and  son,  which  the  king  had 
given  him,  that  he  was  somewhat  more  than  cousin,  and  less  than 
son.     JOHNSON. 

In  this  line,  with  which  Shakspeare  introduces  Hamlet,  Dr. 
Johnson  has  perhaps  pointed  out  a  nicer  distinction  than  it  can 
justly  boast  of.  To  establish  the  sense  contended  for,  it  should 
have  been  proved  that  kind  was  ever  used  by  any  English  writer 
for  child.  A  little  more  than  kin,  is  a  little  more  than  a  common 
relation.  The  King  was  certainly  something  less  than  kind,  by 
having  betrayed  the  mother  of  Hamlet  into  an  indecent  and  in- 
cestuous marriage,  and  obtained  the  crown  by  means  which  he 
suspects  to  be  unjustifiable.  In  the  fifth  Act,  the  prince  accuses 
his  uncle  of  having  popp'd  in  between  the  election  and  his  hopes, 
which  obviates  Dr.  Warburton's  objection  to  the  old  reading,  viz. 
that  "  the  king  had  given  no  occasion  for  such  a  reflection." 

A  jingle  of  the  same  sort  is  found  in  Mother  Bombie,  1594, 
and  seems  to  have  been  proverbial,  as  I  have  met  with  it  more 
than  once :  **  — the  nearer  we  are  in  blood,  the  further  we  must 
be  from  love ;  the  greater  the  kindred  is,  the  less  the  kindness 
must  be." 

Again,  in  Gorboduc,  a  tragedy,  1561 : 

"  In  kinde  a  father,  but  not  kindelyness" 

In  the  Battle  of  Alcazar,  1594,  Muly  Mahomet  is  called 
"  Traitor  to  kinne  and  kinde.1* 

As  kind,  however,  signifies  nature,  Hamlet  may  mean  that 


32  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

KING.  How  is  it  that  the  clouds  still  hang  on 
you  ? 

HAM.  Not  so,  my  lord,  I  am  too  much  i'the  sun.6 

QUEEN.  Good  Hamlet,  cast  thy  nigh  ted  colour 

off, 

And  let  thine  eye  look  like  a  friend  on  Denmark. 
Do  not,  for  ever,  with  thy  vailed  lids7 

his  relationship  was  become  an  unnatural  one,  as  it  was  partly 
founded  upon  incest.  Our  author's  Julius  Ctesar,  Antony  and 
Cleopatra,  King  Richard  II.  and  Titus  Andronicus,  exhibit 
instances  of  kind  being  used  for  nature;  and  so  too  in  this  play 
of  Hamlet,  Act  II.  sc.  the  last : 

"  Remorseless,  treacherous,  lecherous,  kindless  villain." 
Dr.  Farmer,   however,    observes  that  kin  is  still  used  for 
cousin  in  the  midland  counties.     STEEVENS. 

Hamlet  does  not,  I  think,  mean  to  say,  as  Mr.  Steevens  sup- 
poses, that  his  uncle  is  a  little  more  than  kin,  &c.  The  King 
had  called  the  Prince — "  My  cousin  Hamlet,  and  my  son." — 
His  reply,  therefore,  is, — **  I  am  a  little  more  than  thy  kinsman, 
[for  I  am  thy  step-son ;]  and  somewhat  less  than  kind  to  thee, 
[for  I  hate  thee,  as  being  the  person  who  has  entered  into  an  in- 
cestuous marriage  with  my  mother.]"  Or,  if  we  understand  kind 
in  its  ancient  sense,  then  the  meaning  will  be, — /  am  more  than 
thy  kinsman,  for  I  am  thy  step-son;  being  such,  I  am  less  near 
to  thee  than  thy  natural  offspring,  and  therefore  not  entitled  to 
the  appellation  of  son,  which  you  have  now  given  me. 

MA  LONE. 

6  too  much  i't/ie  sun."]  He  perhaps  alludes  to  the  proverb, 

"  Out  of  heaven's  blessing  into  the  warm  sun."     JOHNSON. 

Meaning  probably  his  being  sent  for  from  his  studies  to  be 
exposed  at  his  uncle's  marriage  as  his  chiefest  courtier,  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

I  question  whether  a  quibble  between  sun  and  son  be  not  here 
intended.  FARMER. 

—  vailed  lids — ]  With  lowering  eyes,  cast  down  eyes. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice: 

"  Vailing  her  high-top  lower  than  her  ribs." 

STEEVENS. 
See  Vol.  XII.  p.  17,  n.  9.     MA  LONE. 


sc.  IT.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  3S 

Seek  for  thy  noble  father  in  the  dust : 

Thou  know'st,  'tis  common ;  all,  that  live,  must 

die,8 
Passing  through  nature  to  eternity. 

HAM.  Ay,  madam,  it  is  common. 
QUEEN.  If  it  be, 

Why  seems  it  so  particular  with  thee  ? 

HAM.  Seems,  madam !  nay,  it  is ;  I  know  not 

seems. 

'Tis  not  alone  my  inky  cloak,  good  mother, 
Nor  customary  suits  of  solemn  black, 
Nor  windy  suspiration  of  forc'd  breath, 
No,  nor  the  fruitful  river  in  the  eye, 
Nor  the  dejected  haviour  of  the  visage, 
Together  with  all  forms,  modes,  shows  of  grief," 
That  can  denote  me  truly :  These,  indeed,  seem, 
For  they  are  actions  that  a  man  might  play : 
But  I  have  that  within,  which  passeth  show ; 
These,  but  the  trappings  and  the  suits  of  woe.1 

XING.  'Tis  sweet  and  commendable  in  your  na- 
ture, Hamlet, 

8  Thou  knoiu'st,  'tis  common  ;  all,  that  live,  must  die,~\  Perhaps 
the  semicolon  placed  in  this  line,  is  improper.  The  sense,  ellip- 
tically  expressed,  is, — Thou  knowest  it  is  common  that  all  that 
live,  must  die. — The  first  that  is  omitted  for  the  sake  of  metre,  a 
practice  often  followed  by  Shakspeare.  STEEVENS. 

9 shows  of  grief,"]     Thus  the  folio.     The   first  quarto 

reads — chapes — I  suppose,  for  shapes.     STEEVENS. 

1  But  I  have  that  tvithin,  "which  passeth  show  ; 

These,  but  the  trappings  and  the  suits  oftvoe.^     So,  in  King 
Richard  II: 

" my  grief  lies  all  within  ; 

"  And  these  external  manners  of  lament 

"  Are  merely  shadows  to  the  unseen  grief 

"  That  swells  with  silence  in  the  tortur'd  soul.*' 

MALONE, 

VOL.  XVIII.  D 


34  tiAMLET,  ACT  i. 

To  give  these  mourning  duties  to  your  father : 

But,  you  must  know,  your  father  lost  a  father ; 

That  father  lost,  lost  his  ;2  and  the  survivor  bound 

In  filial  obligation,  for  some  term 

To  do  obsequious  sorrow  :3  But  to  persever 

In  obstinate  condolement,4  is  a  course 

Of  impious  stubbornness ;  'tis  unmanly  grief: 

It  shows  a  will  most  incorrect5  to  heaven  ; 

* your  father  lost  a  father; 

That  father  lost,  lost  his  ;~]     Mr.  Pope  judiciously  corrected 
the  faulty  copies  thus : 

your  father  lost  a  father  ; 

That  father,  his  ; . 

On  which  the  editor  Mr.  Theobald  thus  descants: — This  sup- 
posed refinement  is  from  Mr.  Pope,  but  all  the  editions  else,  that  I 
have  met  with,  old  and  modern,  read  : 

That  father  lost,  lost  his  ; 

The  reduplication  of  which  word  here  gives  an  energy  and  an 
elegance,  WHICH  is  MUCH  EASIER  TO  BE  CONCEIVED  THAN 
EXPLAINED  IN  TERMS.  I  believe  so  :  for  when  explained  in  terms 
it  conies  to  this : — That  father  after  he  had  lost  himself,  lost  his 
father.  But  the  reading  is  ex  fide  codicis,  and  that  is  enough. 

WARBURTON. 

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

The  meaning  of  the  passage  is  no  more  than  this, —  Your  fa- 
ther lost  a  father,  i.  e.  your  grandfather,  which  lost  grandfather, 
also  lost  his  father. 

The  metre,  however,  in  my  opinion,  shows  that  Mr.  Pope's 
correction  should  be  adopted.  The  sense,  though  elliptically 
'expressed,  will  still  be  the  same.  STKEVENS. 

3 obsequious  sorrow :]   Obsequious  is  here  from  obsequies, 

or  funeral  ceremonies.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Titus  Andronicus  : 

"  To  shed  obsequious  tears  upon  his  trunk." 
See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  282,  u.  4-.     STEEVENS. 

4  In  obstinate  condolement, ]     Condolement,  for  sorrow. 

WARBURTON. 

4 a  will  most  incorrect — ]     Incorrect,  for  untutored. 

WARBURTON. 


ac.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  35 

A  heart  unfortified,  or  mind  impatient ; 

An  understanding  simple  and  unschool'd . 

For  what,  we  know,  must  be,  and  is  as  common 

As  any  the  most  vulgar  thing  to  sense, 

Why  should  we,  in  our  peevish  opposition, 

Take  it  to  heart  ?  Fye  !  'tis  a  fault  to  heaven, 

A  fault  against  the  dead,  a  fault  to  nature, 

To  reason  most  absurd;6  whose  common  theme 

Is  death  of  fathers,  and  who  still  hath  cried, 

From  the  first  corse,  till  he  that  died  to-day, 

This  must  be  so.     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  less  nobility  of  love,7 

Than  that  which  dearest  father  bears  his  son, 

Do  I  impart  toward  you.8     For  your  intent 

Incorrect  does  not  mean  untutored,  as  Warburton  explains  it 
but  ill-regulated,  not  sufficiently  subdued.     M.  MASON. 

Not  sufficiently  regulated  by  a  sense  of  duty  and  submission  to 
the  dispensations  of  Providence.     MALONE. 

6  To  reason  most  absurd ;~\   Reason  is  here  used  in  its  common 
sense,  for  the  faculty  by  which  we  form  conclusions  from  argu- 
ments.    JOHNSON. 

7  And,  with  no  less  nobility  of  love,"]    Nobility,  for  magnitude 

WARBURTON 
Nobility  is  rather  generosity.     JOHNSON. 

By  nobility  of  love,  Mr.  Heath  understands,  eminence  and 
distinction  of  love.     MALONE. 

So,  afterwards,  the  Ghost,  describing  his  affection  for  the 
Queen : 

"  To  me,  whose  love  was  of  that  dignity"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

8  Do  I  impart  toward  you."]     I  believe  impart  is,  impart  my- 
self,  communicate  whatever  I  can  bestow.     JOHNSON. 

The  crown  of  Denmark  was  elective.     So,  in  Syr  Clyomon, 
Knight  of  the  Golden  Shield,  &c.  1599  : 

D  2 


S6  HAMLET,  ACTL 

In  going  back  to  school  in  Wittenberg,9 
It  is  most  retrograde  to  our  desire : 

"  And  me  possess  for  spoused  wife,  who  in  election  am 
"  To  have  the  crown  of  Denmark  here,  as  heir  unto  the 

same." 

The  King  means,  that  as  Hamlet  stands  the  fairest  chance  to  be 
next  elected,  he  will  strive  with  as  much  love  to  ensure  the 
crown  to  him,  as  a  father  would  show  in  the  continuance  of  heir- 
dom to  a  son.  STEEVEXS. 

I  agree  with  Mr.  Steevens,  that  the  crown  of  Denmark  (as  in 
most  of  the  Gothick  kingdoms)  was  elective,  and  not  here- 
ditary ;  though  it  must  be  customary,  in  elections,  to  pay  some 
attention  to  the  royal  blood,  which  by  degrees  produced  heredi- 
tary succession.  Why  then  do  the  rest  of  the  commentators  so 
often  treat  Claudius  as  an  usurper,  who  had  deprived  young 
Hamlet  of  his  right  by  heirship  ,to  his  father's  crown  ?  Hamlet 
calls  him  drunkard,  murderer,  and  villain  ;  one  who  had  carried 
the  election  by  low  and  mean  practices;  had — 

"  Popp'd  in  between  the  election  and  my  hopes — ." 
had— 

"  From  a  shelf  the  precious  diadem  stole, 

"  And  put  it  in  his  pocket :" 

but  never  hints  at  his  being  an  usurper.  His  discontent  arose 
from  his  uncle's  being  preferred  before  him,  not  from  any  legal 
right  which  he  pretended  to  set  up  to  the  crown.  Some  regard 
was  probably  had  to  the  recommendation  of  the  preceding  prince, 
in  electing  the  successor.  And  therefore  young  Hamlet  had 
*'  the  voice  of  the  king  himself  for  his  succession  in  Denmark ;" 
and  he  at  his  own  death  prophecies  that  "  the  election  would 
light  on  Fortinbras,  who  had  his  dying  voice,"  conceiving  that 
by  the  death  of  his  uncle,  he  himself  had  been  king  for  an  in- 
stant, and  had  therefore  a  right  to  recommend.  When,  in  the 
fourth  Act,  the  rabble  wished  to  choose  Laertes  king,  I  under- 
stand that  antiquity  was  forgot,  and  custom  violated,  by  electing 
a  new  king  in  the  life-time  of  the  old  one,  and  perhaps  also  by 
the  calling  in  a  stranger  to  the  royal  blood.  BLACKSTONE. 

9 to  school  in  Wittenberg,~\  In  Shakspeare's  time  there 

was  an  university  at  Wittenberg,  to  which  he  has  made  Hamlet 
propose  to  return. 

The  university  of  Wittenberg  was  not  founded  till  1502,  con- 
sequently did  not  exist  in  the  time  to  which  this  play  is  referred. 

M  ALONE. 

Our  author  may  have  derived  his  knowledge  of  this  famous 


ac.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  37 

And,  we  beseech  you,  bend  you  to  remain1 
Here,  in  the  cheer  and  comfort  of  our  eye, 
Our  chiefest  courtier,  cousin,  and  our  son. 

QUEEN.  Let  not  thy  mother  lose  her  prayers, 

Hamlet ; 
I  pray  thee,  stay  with  us,  go  not  to  Wittenberg. 

HAM.  I  shall  in  all  my  best  obey  you,  madam. 

KING.  Why,  'tis  a  loving  and  a  fair  reply  ; 
Be  as  ourself  in  Denmark. — Madam,  come  ; 
This  gentle  and  unforc'd  accord  of  Hamlet 
Sits  smiling  to  my  heart  :2  in  grace  whereof, 
No  jocund  health,3  that  Denmark  drinks  to-day, 
But  the  great  cannon  to  the  clouds  shall  tell ; 
And  the  king's  rouse4  the  heaven  shall  bruit  again, 
Re-speaking  earthly  thunder.     Come  away. 

[Exeunt  King,  Queen,  Lords,  fyc.  POLONIUS, 
and  LAERTES. 


university  from  The  Life  of  lacks  Wilton,  1594,  or  The  History 
of  Doctor  Faustus,  of  whom  the  second  report  (printed  in  the 
same  year)  is  said  to  be  "  written  by  an  English  gentleman, 
student  at  Wittenberg,  an  University  of  Germany  in  Saxouy." 

RITSON. 

1 bend  you  to  remain — ]     i.  e.  subdue  your  inclination  to 

go  from  hence,  and  remain,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

8  Sits  smiling  to  my  heart :"]     Thus,  the  dying  Lothario  : 
"  That  sweet  revenge  comes  smiling  to  my  thoughts." 

STEEVENS. 

Sits  smiling  to  my  heart:"]     Surely  it  should  be : 
Sits  smiling  on  my  heart.     RITSON. 

To  my  heart,  I  believe,  signifies — near  to,  close,  next  to,  my 
heart.  STEEVENS. 

3  No  jocund  health,']  The  King's  intemperance  is  very  strongly 
impressed ;  every  thing  that  happens  to  him  gives  him  occasion 
to  drink.  JOHNSON. 

* the  king's  rouse — ]    i.  e.  the  King's  draught  of  jollity. 

See  Othello,  Act  II.  sc.  iii.     STEEVENS. 


38  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

HAM.  O,  that  this  too  too  solid  flesh  would  melt, 
Thaw,  and  resolve  itself  into  a  dew!5 
Or  that  the  Everlasting  had  not  fix'd 
His  canon  'gainst  self-slaughter ! 6  O  God !  O  God  ! 
How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable 


So,  in  Marlowe's  Tragical  Historic  of  Doctor  Faustus: 
"  He  tooke  his  rouse  with  stoopes  of  Rhennish  wine." 

RITSON. 

4 'resolve  itself  into  a  dew  /]     Resolve  means  the  same  as 

dissolve.     Ben  Jonson  uses  the  word  in  his  Volpone,  and  in  the 
same  sense : 

"  Forth  the  resolved  corners  of  his  eyes." 
Again,  in  The  Country  Girl,  1647 : 

" my  swoln  grief,  resolved  in  these  tears." 

Pope  has  employed  the  same  word  in  his  version  of  the  second 
Iliad,  44: 

"  Resolves  to  air,  and  mixes  with  the  night." 

STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Giles  Fletcher's  Russe  Commonivealth,  1591  :  "  In 
winter  time,  when  all  is  covered  with  snow,  the  dead  bodies  ( so 
many  as  die  all  the  winter  time)  are  piled  up  in  a  house  in  the 
suburbs,  like  billets  on  a  woodstack,  as  hard  with  the  frost  as  a 
very  stone,  'till  the  spring  tide  come  and  resolve  the  frost,  what 
time  every  man  taketh  his  dead  friend  and  committeth  him  to 
the  ground."  REED. 

0  Or  that  the  Everlasting  had  notjtx'd 

His  canon  ' 'gainst  self-slaughter!']  The  generality  of  the 
editions  read— ^-cannon,  as  if  the  poet's  thought  were, — Or  that 
the  Almighty  had  not  planted  his  artillery,  or  arms  o/Vengeance, 
against  self-murder.  But  the  word  which  I  restored  (and  which 
was  espoused  by  the  accurate  Mr.  Hughes,  who  gave  an  edition 
of  this  play)  is  the  true  reading,  i.  e.  that  he  had  not  restrained 
suicide  by  his  express  law  and  peremptory  prohibition. 

THEOBALD. 

There  are  yet  those  who  suppose  the  old  reading  to  be  the  true 
one,  as  they  say  the  -wotdjijce d  seems  to  decide  very  strongly  in 
its  favour.  I  would  advise  such  to  recollect  Virgil's  expression: 
" fixit  leges  pretio,  atque  refixit"     STEEVEXS. 

If  the  true  reading  wanted  any  support,  it  might  be  found  in 
Cymbeline : 


#7.  //.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  39 

Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world  ! 

Fye  on't !  O  fye !  'tis  an  unweeded  garden, 

That  grows  to  seed ;  things  rank,  and  gross  in  na- 
ture, 

Possess  it  merely.7     That  it  should  come  to  this  ! 

But  two  months  dead! — nay,  not  so  much,  not 
two: 

So  excellent  a  king ;  that  was,  to  this, 

Hyperion  to  a  satyr : 8  so  loving  to  my  mother, 

" 'gainst  self-slaughter 

"  There  is  a.  prohibition  so  divine, 
"  That  cravens  my  weak  hand." 

In  Shakspeare's  time  cawow  (normct.)  was  commonly  spelt  cannon. 

MALONE. 

7 merely.']     is  entirely,  absolutely.      See  Vol.  IV.  p.  9, 

n.  3  ;  and  Vol.  XVI.  p.  139,  n.  8.     STEEVENS. 

8  So  excellent  a  king  ;  that  ivas,  to  this, 

Hyperion  to  a  satyr .-]  This  similitude  at  first  sight  seems  to 
be  a  little  far-fetched ;  but  it  has  an  exquisite  beauty.  By  the 
Satyr  is  meant  Pan,  as  by  Hyperion,  Apollo.  Pan  and  Apollo 
were  brothers,  and  the  allusion  is  to  the  contention  between  those 
gods  for  the  preference  in  musick.  WARBURTON. 

All  our  English  poets  are  guilty  of  the  same  false  quantity,  and 
call  Hyperion  Hyperion ;  at  least  the  only  instance  I  have  met. 
with  to  the  contrary,  is  in  the  old  play  of  Fuimus  Troes,  1633 : 

" Blow  gentle  Africus, 

"  Play  on  our  poops,  when  Hyperion's  son 
*'  Shall  couch  in  west." 

Shakspeare,  I  believe,  has  no  allusion  in  the  present  instance, 
except  to  the  beauty  of  Apollo,  and  its  immediate  opposite,  the 
deformity  of  a  Satyr.  STEEVENS. 

Hyperion  or  Apollo  is  represented  in  all  the  ancient  statues, 
&c.  as  exquisitely  beautiful,  the  satyrs  hideously  ugly. — Shak- 
speare may  surely  be  pardoned  for  not  attending  to  the  quantity 
of  Latint  names,  here  and  in  Cymbeline;  when  we  find  Henry 
Parrot,  the  author  of  a  collection  of  Epigrams  printed  in  1613, 
to  which  a  Latin  preface  is  prefixed,  writing  thus  : 
"  Posthumus,  not  the  last  of  many  more, 
"  Asks  why  I  write  in  such  an  idle  vaine,"  &c. 
Laquei  ridiculosi,  or  Springes  for  Woodcocks,  16mo.  sign.  c.  3. 

MALONE. 


40  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

That  he  might  not  beteem  the  winds  of  heaven9 
Visit  her  face  too  roughly.     Heaven  and  earth  ! 

9  That  he  might  not  beteem  the  winds  of  heaven — ]  In  former 
editions : 

That  he  permitted  not  the  winds  of  heaven — . 
This  is  a  sophisticated  reading,  copied  from  the  players  in  some 
of  the  modern  editions,  for  want  of  understanding  the  poet,  whose 
text  is  corrupt  in  the  old  impressions :  all  of  which  that  I  have 
had  the  fortune  to  see,  concur  in  reading : 

so  loving  to  my  mother, 

That  he  might  not  oeteene  the  winds  of  heaven 

Visit  her  face  too  roughly. 

Beteene  is  a  corruption  without  doubt,  but  not  so  inveterate  a 
one,  but  that,  by  the  change  of  a  single  letter,  and  the  separation 
6f  two  words  mistakenly  jumbled  together,  I  am  verily  persuaded, 
I  have  retrieved  the  poet's  reading — 

That  he  might  not  let  e'en  the  winds  of  heaven  &c. 

THEOBALD. 

The  obsolete  and  corrupted  verb — beteene,  (in  the  first  folio) 
which  should  be  written  (as  in  all  the  quartos)  beteeme,  was 
changed,  as  above,  by  Mr.  Theobald ;  and  with  the  aptitude  of 
his  conjecture  succeeding  criticks  appear  to  have  been  satisfied. 
Beteeme,  however,  occurs  in  the  tenth  Book  of  Arthur  Gold- 
ing's  version  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  4-to.  1587  ;  and,  from 
the  corresponding  Latin,  must  necessarily  signify,  to  vouchsafe, 
deign,  permit,  or  stiffer: 

" Yet  could  he  not  beteeme 

"  The  shape  of  anie  other  bird  than  egle  for  to  seeme." 

Sign.  R.  l.b. 

" nulla  tamen  alite  verti 

"  Dignatur,  nisi  quae  possit  sua  fulmina  ferre."  V.  157. 
Jupiter  (though  anxious  for  the  possession  of  Ganymede)  would 
not  deign  to  assume  a  meaner  form,  or  suffer  change  into  an 
humbler  shape,  than  that  of  the  august  ana*  vigorous  fowl  who 
bears  the  thunder  in  his  pounces. 

The  existence  and  signification  of  the  verb  beteem  being  thus 
established,  it  follows,  that  the  attention  of  Hamlet's  father  to 
his  queen  was  exactly  such  as  is  described  in  the  Enterlude  of 
the  Life  and  Repentaunce  of  Marie  Magdalaine,  &c.  by  Lewis 
Wager,  4to.  1567: 

"  But  evermore  they  were  unto  me  very  tender, 

"  They  -would  not  stiffer  the  wynde  on  me  to  blowe." 
I  have  therefore  replacea  the  ancient  reading,  without  the 
slightest  hesitation,  in  the  text. 


sc.ii.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  41 

Must  I  remember  ?  why,  she  would  hang  on  him, 
As  if  increase  of  appetite  had  grown 
By  what  it  fed  on  :  And  yet,  within  a  month, — 
Let  me  not  think  on't ; — Frailty,  thy  name  is  wo- 
man!— 

A  little  month  ;  or  ere  those  shoes  were  old, 
With  which  she  followed  my  poor  father's  body, 
Like  Niobe,  all  tears  j1 — why  she,  even  she, — 
O  heaven  !  a  beast,  that  wants  discourse  of  reason, 
Would  have  mourn'd  longer, — married  with  my 

uncle, 

My  father's  brother ;  but  no  more  like  my  father, 
Than  I  to  Hercules :  Within  a  month  ; 
Ere  yet  the  salt  of  most  unrighteous  tears 


This  note  was  inserted  by  me  in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
some  years  before  Mr.  Malone's  edition  of  our  author  ( in  which 
the  same  justification  of  the  old  reading — beteeme,  occurs,)  had 
made  its  appearance.  STEEVENS. 

This  passage  ought  to  be  a  perpetual  memento  to  all  future 
editors  and  commentators  to  proceed  with  the  utmost  caution  in 
emendation,  and  never  to  discard  a  word  from  the  text,  merely 
because  it  is  not  the  language  of  the  present  day. 

Mr.  Hughes  or  Mr.  Rowe,  supposing  the  text  to  be  unintel- 
ligible, for  beteem  boldly  substituted  permitted.  Mr.  Theobald, 
in  order  to  favour  his  own  emendation,  stated  untruly  that  all 
the  old  copies  which  he  had  seen,  read  beteene.  His  emenda- 
tion appearing  uncommonly  happy,  was  adopted  by  all  the  sub- 
sequent editors. 

We  find  a  sentiment  similar  to  that  before  us,  in  Marston's 
Insatiate  Countess,  1613: 

" she  had  a  lord, 

"  Jealous  that  air  should  ravish  her  chaste  looks." 

MALONE. 

1  Like  Niobe,  all  tears;~\  Shakspeare  might  have  caught  this 
iuea  from  an  ancient  ballad  intitled  The  falling  out  of  Lovers  is 
the  renewing  of  Love: 

"  Now  I,  like  weeping  Niobe, 
"  May  wash  my  handes  in  teares,"  &c. 
Of  this  ballad  Amantium  irce  &c.  is  the  burden.     STEEVENS. 


42  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Had  left  the  flushing  in  her  galled  eyes, 

She  married : — O  most  wicked  speed,  to  post 

With  such  dexterity  to  incestuous  sheets ! 

It  is  not,  nor  it  cannot  come  to,  good ; 

But  break,  my  heart ;  for  I  must  hold  my  tongue! 


Enter  HORATIO,  BERNARDO,  and  MARCELLUS. 

Hon.  Hail  to  your  lordship ! 

HAM.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  well : 

\^  Horatio, — or  I  do  forget  myself. 

HOR.  The  same,  my  lord,  and  your  poor  servant 
ever. 

f  /HAM.  Sir,  my  good  friend;   I'll  change  that 

-A    SJ^/  £         VI 

name^  with  you. 

'And  what  make  you3  from  Wittenberg,  Horatio?— 
Marcellus  ? 

MAR.  My  good  lord, 

HAM.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you ;  good  even, 

sir.4— 
But  what,  in  faith,  make  you  from  Wittenberg  ? 

I'll  change  that  name — ]     I'll  be  your  servant,  you 

shall  be  my  friend.     JOHNSON. 

3  — —-what  make  you — ]    A  familiar  phrase  for  what  are  yon 
doing.    JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  4-,  n.  7.     STEEVENS. 

4  good  even,  sir.']     So  the  copies.    Sir  Thomas  Hanmer 

and  Dr.  Warburton  put  it — good  morning.     The  alteration  is  of 
no  importance,  but  all  licence  is  dangerous.     There  is  no  need 
of  any  change.     Between  the  first  and  eighth  scene  of  this  Act 
it  is  apparent,  that  a  natural  day  must  pass,  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.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  ii.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  43 

Hon.  A  truant  disposition,  good  my  lord. 

HAM.  I  would  not  hear  your  enemy  say  so ; 
Nor  shall  you  do  mine  ear  that  violence, 
To  make  it  truster  of  your  own  report 
Against  yourself:  I  know,  you  are  no  truant. 
But  what  is  your  affair  in  Elsinore  ? 
We'll  teach  you  to  drink  deep,  ere  you  depart. 

HOR.  My  lord,  I  came  to  see  your  father's  funeral. 

HAM.  I  pray  thee,  do  not  mock  me,  fellow- 
student  ; 
I  think,  it  was  to  see  my  mother's  wedding. 

Hon.  Indeed,  my  lord,  it  follow'd  hard  upon. 

HAM.  Thrift,  thrift,  Horatio !  the  funeral  bak'd 

meats5 
Did  coldly  furnish  forth  the  marriage  tables. 


The  change  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer  might  be  justified  by 
what  Marcellus  said  of  Hamlet  at  the  conclusion  of  sc.  i : 

" and  I  this  morning  know 

"  Where  we  shall  find  him  most  convenient." 

STEEVENS. 

*  the  funeral  bak'd  meats — ]  It  was  anciently  the  ge- 
neral custom  to  give  a  cold  entertainment  to  mourners  at  a  fu- 
neral. In  distant  counties  this  practice  is  continued  among  the 
yeomanry.  See  The  Tragique  Historic  of  the  Faire  Valeria  of 
London,  1598  :  "His  corpes  was  with  funerall  pompe  conveyed 
to  the  church,  and  there  sollemnly  enterred,  nothing  omitted 
which  necessitie  or  custom  could  claime ;  a  sermon,  a  banquet, 
and  like  observations."  Again,  in  the  old  romance  of  Syr  De- 
gore,  bl.  1.  no  date : 

"  A  great  feaste  would  he  holde 

"  Upon  his  queues  mornynge  day, 

"  That  was  buryed  in  an  abbay."     COLLINS. 

See  also,  Hayward's  Life  and  Raigne  of  King  Henrie  the 
Fourth,  4to.  1599,  p.  135 :  "  Then  hee  [King  Richard  II.]  was 
conveyed  to  Langley  Abby  in  Buckinghamshire,— and  there  ob- 
scurely interred, — without  the  charge  of  a  dinner  for  celebrating 
the  funeral."  MALONE. 


44  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

'Would  I  had  met  my  dearest  foe  in  heaven6 
Or  ever7  I  had  seen  that  day,  Horatio  !— 
My  father, — Methinks,  I  see  my  father. 

HOR.  Where, 

My  lord  ? 

HAM.       In  my  mind's  eye,8  Horatio. 


8  dearest  foe  in  heaven — ]     Dearest  for  direst,  most 

dreadful,  most  dangerous.     JOHNSON. 

Dearest  is  most  immediate,  consequential,  important.  So,  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  • a  ring  that  I  must  use 

"  In  dear  employment." 
Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Maid  in  the  Mill: 

"  You  meet  your  dearest  enemy  in  love, 

"  With  all  his  hate  about  him."     STEEVENS. 

See  Timon  of  Athens,  Act  V.  sc.  ii.  Vol.  XIX.     MALONE, 

7  Or  ever — ]  Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  The  folio  reads — ere 
ever.  This  is  not  the  only  instance  in  which  a  familiar  phrase- 
ology has  been  substituted  for  one  more  ancient,  in  that  valuable 
copy.  MALONE. 

'  In  my  mind's  eye,"]  This  expression  occurs  again  in  our 
author's  Rape  of '  Lucrece: 

" himself  behind 

"  Was  left  unseen,  save  to  the  eye  of  mind." 
Again,  in  Chaucer's  Man  of  Lawes  Tale: 

"  But  it  were  with  thilke  eyen  of  his  minde, 

"  With  which  men  mowen  see  whan  they  ben  blinde." 
JBen  Jonson  has  borrowed  it  in  his  Masque  called  Love's  Tri- 
'umph  through  Callipolis: 

"  As  only  by  the  mind's  eye  may  be  seen." 
Again,  in  the  Microcosmos  of  John  Davies  of  Hereford,  4to. 
1605: 

"  And  through  their  closed  eies  their  mind's  eye  peeps." 
Telemachus  lamenting  the  absence  of  Ulysses,  is  represented  in 
like  manner: 

"  *Ocr<ro|W,evo?  irareg  e<r9Xov  Ixi  pfetnv."     Odyss.  L.  I.  115. 

STEEVENS. 

This  expression  occurs  again  in  our  author's  113th  Sonnet: 
"  Since  I  left  you,  mine  eye  is  in  my  mind." 

MALONE. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  45 

HOR.  I  saw  him  once,  he  was  a  goodly  king. 

HAM.  He  was  a  man,  take  him  for  all  in  all, 
I  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again.9 

HOR.  My  lord,  I  think  I  saw  him  yesternight. 

HAM.  Saw!  who? 

HOR.  My  lord,  the  king  your  father. 

HAM.  The  king  my  father ! 

HOR.  Season  your  admiration1  for  a  while 
With  an  attent  ear;2  till  I  may  deliver, 
Upon  the  witness  of  these  gentlemen, 
This  marvel  to  you. 

HAM.  For  God's  love,  let  me  hear. 

HOR.  Two  nights  together  had  these  gentlemen, 
Marcellus  and  Bernardo,  on  their  watch, 
In  the  dead  waist  and  middle  of  the  night,3 

9  I  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again."]  Mr.  Holt  proposes 
to  read,  from  an  emendation  of  Sir  Thomas  Samwell,  Bart,  of 
Upton,  near  Northampton : 

Eye  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again  ; 

and  thinks  it  is  more  in  the  true  spirit  of  Shakspeare  than  the 
other.  So,  in  Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  746 :  "  In  the  greatest  pomp 
that  euer  eye  behelde."  Again,  in  Sandys's  Travels,  p.  150 : 
"  We  went  this  day  through  the  most  pregnant  and  pleasant 
valley  that  ever  eye  beheld." 

Again,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia,  Lib.  III.  p.  293,  edit.  1633  : 

" as  cruell  a  fight  as  eye  did  ever  see." 

STEEVENS. 

1  Season  your  admiration — ]   That  is,  temper  it.    JOHNSON. 

*  With  an  attent  ear ;"]  Spenser,  as  well  as  our  poet,  uses 
attent  for  attentive.  MALONE. 

3  In  the  dead  waist  and  middle  of  the  night, ~\  This  strange 
phraseology  seems  to  have  been  common  in  the  time  of  Shak- 
speare. By  waist  is  meant  nothing  more  than  middle;  and 
hence  the  epithet  dead  did  not  appear  incongruous  to  our  poet. 
So,  in  Marston's  Malecontent,  1604  : 

"  'Tis  now  about  the  immodest  toaist  of  night." 


4-6  HAMLET,  ACT  I. 

Been  thus  encounter'd.   A  figure  like  your  father, 
Armed  at  point,4  exactly,  cap-a-p£, 
Appears  before  them,  and,  with  solemn  inarch, 
Goes  slow  and  stately  by  them  :  thrice  he  walk'd, 
By  their  oppressed  and  fear-surprized  eyes, 
Within  his  truncheon's  length  ;  whilst  they,  di- 

still'd 

Almost  to  jelly  with  the  act  of  fear,5 
Stand  dumb,  and  speak  not  to  him.     This  to  me 
In  dreadful  secrecy  impart  they  did  ; 
And  I  with  them,  the  third  night  kept  the  watch  : 
Where,  as  they  had  delivered,  both  in  time, 
Form  of  the  thing,  each  word  made  true  and  good, 
The  apparition  comes  :  I  knew  your  father  ; 
These  hands  are  not  more  like. 

HAM.  But  where  was  this? 

MAR.  My  lord,  upon  the  platform  where  we 
watch'd. 

i.e.  midnight.      Again,    in   The    Piiriian,    a   comedy,   1607: 
"  —  ere  the  clay  be  spent  to  the  girdle,  —  ." 

In  the  old  copies  the  word  is  spelt  tvast,  as  it  is  in  the  second 
Act,  sc.  ii  :  "  Then  you  live  about  her  tcast,  or  in  the  middle  of 
her  favours."  The  same  spelling  is  found  in  King  Lear,  Act  IV. 
sc.  vi:  "  Down  from  the  wast,  they  are  centaurs."  See  also, 
Minsheu's  Diet.  1617  :  "  Wast,  middle,  or  girdle-steed."  We 
have  the  same  pleonasm  in  another  line  in  this,  play: 

"  And  given  my  heart  a  working  mute  and  dumb." 

All  the  modern  editors  read  —  In  the  dead  waste  &c. 

MA  LONE. 

Dead  zvastc  may  be  the  true  reading.  See  Vol.  IV.  p.  39,  n.  4. 


4  Armed  at  point,']    Thus  the  quartos.     The  folio: 
Arm'd  at  all  points.     STEEVEXS. 

'  -  •with  the  act  o/*fear,]  Fear  was  the  cause,  the  active 
cause  that  distilled  them  by  the  force  of  operation  which  we 
strictly  call  act  m  voluntary,  and  power  in  involuntary  ngenfs, 
but  popularly  call  act  in  both.  JOHNSON. 

The  folio  reads  —  icstil'd.     STEEVEXS. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  47 

HAM.  Did  you  not  speak  to  it  ?6 

HOR.  My  lord,  I  did  ; 

6  Did  you  not  speak  to  it?~]  Fielding,  who  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  vulgar  superstitions,  in  his  Tom  Jones,  B.  XI. 
ch.  ii.  observes  that  Mrs.  Fitzpatrick,  "  like  a  ghost,  only  wanted 
to  be  spoke  to,"  but  then  very  readily  answered.  It  seems  from 
this  passage,  as  well  as  from  others  in  books  too  mean  to  be  form- 
ally quoted,  that  spectres  were  supposed  to  maintain  an  ob- 
durate silence,  till  interrogated  by  the  people  to  whom  they  ap- 
peared. 

The  drift  therefore  of  Hamlet's  question  is,  whether  his  fa- 
ther's shade  had  been  spoken  to ;  and  not  whether  Horatio,  as 
a  particular  or  privileged  person,  was  the  speaker  to  it.  Horatio 
tells  us  he  had  seen  the  late  King  but  once,  and  therefore  can- 
not be  imagined  to  have  any  particular  interest  with  his  appa- 
rition. 

The  vulgar  notion  that  a  ghost  could  only  be  spoken  to  with 
propriety  and  effect  by  a  scholar,  agrees  very  well  with  the  cha- 
racter of  Marcellus,  a  common  officer ;  but  it  would  have  dis- 
graced the  Prince  of  Denmark  to  have  supposed  the  spectre 
would  more  readily  comply  with  Horatio's  solicitation,  merely 
because  it  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  been  studying  at  a  uni- 
versity. 

We  are  at  liberty  to  think  the  Ghost  would  have  replied  to 
Francisco,  Bernardo,  or  Marcellus,  had  either  of  them  ventured 
to  question  it.  It  was  actually  preparing  to  address  Horatio, 
when  the  cock  crew.  The  convenience  of  Shakspeare's  play, 
however,  required  that  the  phantom  should  continue  dumb,  till 
Hamlet  could  be  introduced  to  hear  what  was  to  remain  con- 
cealed in  his  own  breast,  or  to  be  communicated  by  him  to  some 
intelligent  friend,  like  Horatio,  in  whom  he  could  implicitly 
confide. 

By  what  particular  person  therefore  an  apparition  which  ex- 
hibits itself  only  for  the  purpose  of  being  urged  to  speak,  was 
addressed,  could  be  of  no  consequence. 

Be  it  remembered  likewise,  that  the  words  are  not  as  lately 
pronounced  on  the  stage,- — "  Did  not  you  Speak  to  it  ?" — but — 
"  Did  you  not  speak  to  it  ?" — How  aukward  will  the  innovated 
sense  appear,  if  attempted  to  be  produced  from  the  passage  as 
it  really  stands  in  the  true  copies ! 

Did  you  not  speak  to  it  ? 
The  emphasis,  therefore,  should  most  certainly  rest  on — speak. 


48  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

But  answer  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  ;7 

And  at  the  sound  it  shrunk  in  haste  away, 

And  vanish'd  from  our  sight. 

HAM.  JTis  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. 

HAM.  Indeed,  indeed,  sirs,  but  this  troubles  me. 
Hold  you  the  watch  to-night  ? 

ALL.  We  do,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Arm'd,  say  you  ? 

ALL.  Arm'd,  my  lord. 

HAM.  From  top  to  toe  ? 

ALL.  My  lord,  from  head  to  foot. 

HAM.  Then  saw  you  not 

His  face. 

7  the  morning  cock  crew  loud;']  The  moment  of  the 

evanescence  of  spirits  was  supposed  to  be  limited  to  the  crowing 
of  the  cock.  This  belief  is  mentioned  so  early  as  by  Prudentius, 
Cathem.  Hymn.  I.  v.  40.  But  some  of  his  commentators  prove 
it  to  be  of  much  higher  antiquity. 

It  is  a  most  inimitable  circumstance  in  Shakspeare,  so  to  have 
managed  this  popular  idea,  as  to  make  the  Ghost,  which  has 
been  so  long  obstinately  silent,  and  of  course  must  be  dismissed 
by  the  morning,  begin  or  rather  prepare  to  speak,  and  to  be  in- 
terrupted, at  the  very  critical  time  of  the  crowing  of  a  cock. 

Another  poet,  according  to  custom,  would  .have  suffered  his 
Ghost  tamely  to  vanish,  without  contriving  this  start,  which  is 
like  a  start  of  guilt.  To  say  nothing  of  the  aggravation  of  the 
future  suspence,  occasioned  by  this  preparation  to  speak,  and  to 
impart  some  mysterious  secret.  Less  would  have  been  expected, 
had  nothing  been  promised.  T.  WARTON. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  49 

HOR.  O,  yes,  my  lord ;  he  wore  his  beaver  up.8 
HAM.  What,  look'd  he  frowningly  ? 

HOR.  A  countenance  more 

In  sorrow  than  in  anger. 

HAM.  Pale,  or  red  ? 

HOR.  Nay,  very  pale. 

HAM.  And  fix'd  his  eyes  upon  you  ? 

HOR.  Most  constantly. 

HAM.  I  would,  I  had  been  there. 

HOR.  It  would  have  much  amaz'd  you. 

HAM.  Very  like, 

Very  like :  Stay'd  it  long  ?      . 

HOR.  While  one  with  moderate  haste  might  tell 
a  hundred. 

MAR.  BER.  Longer,  longer. 

HOR.  Not  when  I  saw  it. 

HAM.  His  beard  was  grizzl'd  ?  no  ? 

HOR.  It  was,  as  I  have  seen  it  in  his  life, 
A  sable  silver'd.9 

9  wore  his  beaver  up.]  Though  beaver  properly  signified 

that  part  of  the  helmet  which  was  let  doivn,  to  enable  the  wearer 
to  drink,  Shakspeare  always  uses  the  word  as  denoting  that  part 
of  the  helmet  which,  when  raised  up,  exposed  the  face  of  the 
wearer :  and  such  was  the  popular  signification  of  the  word  in 
his  time.  In  Bullokar's  English  Expositor,  8vo.  1616,  beaver  is 
defined  thus : — "  In  armour  it  signifies  that  part  of  the  helmet 
which  may  be  lifted  up,  to  take  breath  the  more  freely." 

MALONE. 

So,  in  Laud's  Diary:  "  The  Lord  Broke  shot  in  the  left  eye, 
and  killed  in  the  place  at  Lichfield — his  bever  up,  and  armed  to 
the  knee,  so  that  a  musket  at  that  distance  could  have  done  him 
little  harm."  FARMER. 

9  A  sable  silver'd.']   So,  in  our  poet's  12th  Sonnet: 
"  And  sable  curls,  all  silver'd  o'er  with  white." 

MALONE. 
VOL.  xvm.  E 


50  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

HAM.  I  will  watch  to-night ; 

Perchance,  'twill  walk  again. 

HOR.  I  warrant,  it  will. 

HAM.  If  it  assume  my  noble  father's  person, 
I'll  speak  to  it,  though  hell  itself  should  gape, 
And  bid  me  hold  my  peace.     I  pray  you  all, 
If  you  have  hitherto  conceaPd  this  sight, 
Let  it  be  tenable  in  your  silence  still ; ' 
And  whatsoever  else  shall  hap  to-night, 
Give  it  an  understanding,  but  no  tongue  ; 
I  will  requite  your  loves  :  So,  fare  you  well : 
Upon  the  platform,  'twixt  eleven  and  twelve, 
I'll  visit  you. 

ALL.  Our  duty  to  your  honour. 

HAM.  Your  loves,  as  mine  to  you :  Farewell. 
\_Exeunt  HORATIO,  MARCELLUS,  and  BER- 
NARDO. 

My  father's  spirit  in  arms  !2  all  is  not  well ; 
I  doubt  some  foul  play :  'would,  the  night  were 

come ! 

Till  then  sit  still,  my  soul :  Foul  deeds  will  rise, 
Though  all  the  earth  overwhelm  them,  to  men's 
eyes.  [Exit. 


1  Let  it  be  tenable  in  your  silence  still ;]  Thus  the  quartos, 
and  rightly.  The  folio,  1623,  reads — treble.  STEEVENS. 

*  My  father's  spirit  in  arms  /]  From  what  went  before,  I 
once  hinted  to  Mr.  Garrick,  that  these  words  might  be  spoken 
in  this  manner : 

My  father's  spirit !  in  arms  !  all  is  not  tuell; — 

WHALLEY. 


sc.  m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  51 

SCENE  III. 

A  Room  in  Polonius*  House. 
Enter  LAERTES  and  OPHELIA. 

LAER.  My  necessaries  are  embark'd ;  farewell : 
And,  sister,  as  the  winds  give  benefit, 
And  convoy  is  assistant,  do  not  sleep, 
But  let  me  hear  from  you. 

OPH.  Do  you  doubt  that  ? 

LAER.  For  Hamlet,  and  the  trifling  of  his  fa- 
vour, 

Hold  it  a  fashion,  and  a  toy  in  blood ; 
A  violet  in  the  youth  of  primy  nature, 
Forward,  not  permanent,  sweet,  not  lasting, 
The  perfume  and  suppliance  of  a  minute  ;3 
No  more. 


3  The  perfume  and  suppliance  of  a  minute  ;~\  Thus  the  quarto, 
the  folio  has  it : 

sweet,  not  lasting, 

The  suppliance  of  a  minute. 

It  is  plain  that  perfume  is  necessary  to  exemplify  the  idea  of  stveet, 
not  lasting.  With  the  word  suppliance  I  am  not  satisfied,  and 
yet  dare  hardly  offer  what  I  imagine  to  be  right.  I  suspect  that 
soffiance,  or  some  such  word,  formed  from  the  Italian,  was  then 
used  for  the  act  of  fumigating  with  sweet  scents.  JOHNSON. 

The  perfume  and  suppliance  of  a  minute  ;~\  i.  e.  what  was  sup- 
plied to  us  for  a  minute ;  or,  as  Mr.  M.  Mason  supposes,  "  an 
amusement  to  fill  up  a  vacant  moment,  and  render  it  agreeable/' 
This  word  occurs  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  ninth  Iliad,  of 
Homer : 

" by  my  suppliance  given."     STEEVENS. 

The  words — perfume  and,  which  are  found  in  the  quarto, 
1604-,  were  omitted  in  the  folio.  MALONE. 

E  2 


/  / 


52  HAMLET, 


No  more  but  so  ? 

LAER.  Think  it  no  more  : 

For  nature,  crescent,  does  not  grow  alone 
In  thews,*  and  bulk  ;  but,  as  this'  temple  waxes, 
The  inward  service  of  the  mind  and  soul 
Grows  wide  withal.     Perhaps,  he  loves  you  now  ; 
And  now  no  soil,  nor  cautel,  doth  besmirch 
The  virtue  of  his  will  :5  but,  you  must  fear, 
His  greatness  weigh'd,  his  will  is  not  his  own  ; 
For  he  himself  is  subject  to  his  birth  :6 
He  may  not,  as  unvalued  persons  do, 
Carve  for  himself;  for  on  his  choice  depends 

4  In  thews,]  i.  e.  in  sinews,  muscular  strength.     So,  in  King 
Henry  IV.  P.  II  :  "  Care  I  for  the  limb,  the  thewes,  the  stature," 
&c.     See  Vol.  XII.  p.  141,  n.  6.     STEEVENS. 
*  And  noto  no  soil,  nor  cautel,  doth  besmirch 

The  virtue  of  his  will;']  From  cantela,  which  signifies  only 
a  prudent  foresight  or  caution  ;  but,  passing  through  French 
hands,  it  lost  its  innocence,  and  now  signifies  fraud,  deceit. 
And  so  he  uses  the  adjective  in  Julius  Ccesar: 

"  Swear  priests  and  cowards,  and  men  cautelous" 

WARBURTON. 

So,  in  the  second  part  of  Greene's  Art  of  Coneycatching, 
1592  :  "  —  and  their  subtill  cautels  to  amend  the  statute."  To 
amend  the  statute,  was  the  cant  phrase  for  evading  the  law. 

STEEVENS. 

Cautel  is  subtlety  or  deceit.     Minsheu  in  his  Dictionary, 
1617,  defines  it,  "  A  crafty  way  to  deceive."     The  word  is 
again  used  by  Shakspeare,  in  A  Lover's  Complaint  : 
"  In  him  a  plenitude  of  subtle  matter, 
"  Applied  to  cautels,  all  strange  forms  receives." 

MA  LONE. 

Virtue  seems  here  to  comprise  both  excellence  and  power,  and 
may  be  explained  the  pure  effect.  JOHNSON. 

The  virtue  of  his  will  means,  his  virtuous  intentions.  Cautel 
means  crafi.  So,  Coriolanus  says  : 

"  -  be  caught  by  cautelous  baits  and  practice." 

M.  MASON. 

0  For  he  himself  &c.]     This  line  is  not  in  the  quarto. 

«.  MALQNB. 


ac.  in.      PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  53 

The  safety  and  the  health  of  the  whole  state  ;7 
And  therefore  must  his  choice  be  circumscribed 
Unto  the  voice  and  yielding  of  that  body, 
Whereof  he  is  the  head :  Then  if  he  says  he  loves 

you, 

It  fits  your  wisdom  so  far  to  believe  it, 
As  he  in  his  particular  act  and  place 
May  give  his  saying  deed ; 8  which  is  no  further, 
Than  the  main  voice  of  Denmark  goes  withal. 
Then  weigh  what  loss  your  honour  may  sustain, 
If  with  too  credent  ear  you  list  his  songs ; 
Or  lose  your  heart ;  or  your  chaste  treasure  open 
To  his  unmaster'd9  importunity. 
Fear  it,  Ophelia,  fear  it,  my  dear  sister ; 
And  keep  you  in  the  rear  of  your  affection,1 
Out  of  the  shot  and  danger  of  desire. 
The  chariest  maid2  is  prodigal  enough, 
If  she  unmask  her  beauty  to  the  moon : 

7  The  safety  and  the  health  of  the  mhole  states']     Thus  the 
quarto,  1604,  except  that  it  has — this  whole  state,  and  the  second 
the  is  inadvertently  omitted.     The  folio  reads : 

The  sanctity  and  health  of  the  whole  state. 
This  is  another  proof  of  arbitrary  alterations  being  sometimes 
made  in  the  folio.     The  editor,  finding  the  metre  defective,  in 
consequence  of  the  article  being  omitted  before  health,  instead 
of  supplying  it,  for  safety  substituted  a  word  of  three  syllables. 

MALONE. 

8  May  give  his  saying  deed;]      So,   in    Timon  of  Athens: 
"  — the  deed  of  saying  is  quite  out  of  use."     Again,  in  Troilus 
and  Cressida: 

"  Speaking  in  deeds,  and  deedless  in  his  tongue." 

MALONE. 

9  unmaster'd — ]  i.  e.  licentious.     JOHNSON. 

1  keep  you  in  the  rear  &c.J     That  is,  do  not  advance  so 

far  as  your  affection  would  lead  you.     JOHNSON. 

2  The  chariest  maid — ]    Chary  is  cautious.     So,  in  Greene's 
Never  too  Late,  1616:  "Love  requires  not  chastity,  but  that 
her  soldiers  be  chary."     Again :  "  She  liveth  chastly  enough, 
that  liveth  charily."     STEEVENS,   •» 


54  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Virtue  itself  scapes  not  calumnious  strokes: 
The  canker  galls  the  infants  of  the  spring, 
Too  oft  before  their  buttons  be  disclos'd  ; 
And  in  the  morn  and  liquid  dew  of  youth 
Contagious  blastments  are  most  imminent. 
Be  wary  then  :  best  safety  lies  in  fear ; 
Youth  to  itself  rebels,  though  none  else  near. 

OPH.  I  shall  the  effect  of  this  good  lesson  keep, 
As  watchman  to  my  heart :  But,  good  my  brother, 
Do  not,  as  some  ungracious  pastors  do, 
Show  me  the  steep  and  thorny  way  to  heaven  ; 
Whilst,  like  a  pufPd  and  reckless  libertine, 
Himself  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance  treads, 
And  recks  not  his  own  read.3 

LAER.  O  fear  me  not. 

I  stay  too  long ; — But  here  my  father  comes. 

3  recks  not  his  oivn  read.]     That  his,  heeds  not  his  own 

lessons.     POPE. 

So,  in  the  old  Morality  of  Hycke  Scorner: 

" 1  reck  not  a  feder." 

Again,  ibidem  : 

"  And  of  thy  living,  I  reed  amend  thee." 
Ben  Jonson  uses  the  word  reed  in  his  Catiline: 

"  So  that  thou  could'st  not  move 

"  Against  a  publick  reed" 

Again,  in  Sir  Thomas  North's  translation  of  Plutarch :  "  —  Dis- 
patch, I  read  you,  for  your  enterprize  is  betrayed."  Again,  the 
old  proverb,  in  The  Tioo  angry  Women  of  Abington,  1599: 

"  Take  heed,  is  a  good  reed" 
i.  e.  good  counsel,  good  advice.     STEEVENS. 

So,  Sternhold,  Psalm  i : 

" that  hath  not  lent 

"  To  wicked  rede  his  ear."    BLACKSTONE. 


sc.  in.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  55 


Enter  POLONIUS. 

A  double  blessing  is  a  double  grace ; 
Occasion  smiles  upon  a  second  leave. 

POL.  Yet  here,  Laertes!    aboard,  aboard,  for 

shame ; 

The  wind  sits  in  the  shoulder  of  your  sail,4 
And  you  are  staid  for :  There, — my  blessing  with 

you; 

[Laying  his  Hand  on  LAERTES'  Head. 
And  these  few  precepts  in  thy  memory 
Look  thou  character.5  Give  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 
Nor  any  unproportion'd  thought  his  act. 
Be  thou  familiar,  but  by  no  means  vulgar. 
The  friends  thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tried, 
Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  with  hooks  of  steel;6 


the  shoulder  of  your  sail,'}    This  is  a  common  sea  phrase. 

STEEVENS. 
5  And  these  Jew  precepts  in  thy  memory 

Look  thou  character.]   i.  e.  write,  strongly  infix.    The  same 
phrase  is  again  used  by  our  author  in  his  122d  Sonnet: 
thy  tables  are  within  my  brain 


Again, 


Full  charactered  with  lasting  memory" 
in  The  T'voo  Gentlemen  of  Verona; 
I  do  conjure  thee, 


'  ~Who  art  the  table  wherein  all  my  thoughts 

'  Are  visibly  charactered  and  engrav'd."     MALONE. 

6  Grapple  them  to  thy  soul  ixith  hooks  of  steel ;]  The  old 
copies  read — with  hoops  of  steel.  I  have  no  doubt  that  this  was 
a  corruption  in  the  original  quarto  of  1604,  arising,  like  many 
others,  from  similitude  of  sounds.  The  emendation,  which  was 
made  by  Mr.  Pope,  and  adopted  by  three  subsequent  editors,  is 
strongly  supported  by  the  word  grapple.  See  Minsheu's  Diet. 
1617  :  "  To  hook  or  grapple,  viz.  to  grapple  and  to  board  a  ship." 

A  grapple  is  an  instrument  with  several  hooks  to  lay  hold  of  a 
ship,  in  order  to  board  it. 

This  correction  is  also  justified  by  our  poet's  137th  Sonnet: 


56  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 
Of  each  new-hatch'd,  unfledg'd  comrade.7  Beware 
Of  entrance  to  a  quarrel :  but,  being  in, 
Bear  it  that  the  opposer  may  beware  of  thee. 
Give  every  man  thine  ear,  but  few  thy  voice : 
Take  each  man's  censure,3  but  reserve  thy  judge- 
ment. 

Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy, 
But  not  expressed  in  iancy ;  rich,  not  gaudy  :^ 
For  the  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man  ;9 
And  they  in  France,  of  the  best  rank  and  station, 
Are  most  select  and  generous,  chief  in  that.1 

"  Why  of  eyes'  falshood  hast  thou  forged  hooks, 
"  Whereto  the  judgement  of  my  heart  is  ty'd  ?" 
It  may  be  also  observed,  that  hooks  are  sometimes  made  of 
steel,  but  hoops  never.     MA  LONE. 

We  have,  however,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II : 
"  A  hoop  of  gold  to  bind  thy  brothers  in." 
The  former  part  of  the  phrase  occurs  also  in  Macbeth  : 
"  Grapples  you  to  the  heart  and  love  of  us." 

STEEVENS. 

7  But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 

Of  each  nciv-hatch'd,  unjladg'd  comrade.]  The  literal  sense 
is,  Do  not  make  thy  palm  callous  by  shaking  every  man  by  the 
hand.  The  figurative  meaning  may  be,  Do  not  by  promiscuous 
conversation  make  thy  mind  insensible  to  the  difference  of  cha~ 
racier s.  JOHNSON. 

8  each  man's  censure,]   Censure  is  opinion.    So,  in  King 

Henry  VI.  P.  II : 

"  The  king  is  old  enough  to  give  his  censure." 

STEEVENS. 


For  the  apparel  oft  proclaims  the  man;]     "  A  man's  attire, 
excessive  laughter,  and  gait,  shevi  what  he  is."     I'.ccus  XIX. 


9 

and 

ver.  30.     TODD. 


1  Are  most  select  and  generous,  chief  in  that.~\     I  think  the 
whole  design  of  the  precept  shows  that  we  should  read : 
Are  most  select,  and  generous  chief,  in  that. 

Chief  may  be  an  adjective  used  adverbially,  a  practice  common 
to  our  author:  chiefly  generous.  Yet  it  must  be  owned  that  the 
punctuation  recommended  is  very  stiff  and  harsh. 


sc.  m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  57 

Neither  a  borrower,  nor  a  lender  be : 
For  loan  oft  loses  both  itself  and  friend ; 


I  would,  however,  more  willingly  read : 

And  they  in  France,  of  the  best  rank  and  station, 
Select  and  generous,  are  most  choice  in  that. 
Let  the  reader,  who  can  discover  the  slightest  approach  to- 
wards sense,  harmony,  or  metre,  in  the  original  line, — 
Are  of  a  most  select  and  generous  chief,  in  that, — 
adhere  to  the  old  copies.     STEEVENS. 

The  genuine  meaning  of  the  passage  requires  us  to  point  the 
line  thus : 

Are  most  select  and  generous,  chief  in  that. 
i.  e.  the  nobility  of  France  are  select  and  generous  above  all 
other  nations,  and  chiefly  in  the  point  of  apparel ;  the  richness 
and  elegance  of  their  dress.     RITSON. 

Are  of  a  most  select  and  generous  chief,  in  that."]  Thus  the 
quarto,  1604,  and  the  folio,  except  that,  in  that  copy  the  word 
chief  is  spelt  clieff.  The  substantive  chief,  which  signifies  in 
heraldry  the  upper  part  of  the  shield,  appears  to  have  been  in 
common  use  in  Shakspeare's  time,  being  found  in  Minsheu's 
Dictionary,  1617.  He  defines  it  thus  :  Est  superior  el  scuti  no- 
iilior  pars  ;  tertiam  partem  ejus  obtinet ;  ante  Christi  adventum 
dabatur  in  maximi  honoris  signum;  senatoribus  et  honor atis  viris." 
B.  Jonson  has  used  the  word  in  his  Poetaster. 

The  meaning  then  seems  to  be,  They  in  France  approve  them- 
selves of  a  most  select  and  generous  escutcheon  by  their  dress. 
Generous  is  used  with  the  signification  of  generosus.  So,  in 
Othello :  "  The  generous  islanders,"  &c. 

Chief,  however,  may  have  been  used  as  a  substantive,  for 
note  or  estimation,  without  any  allusion  to  heraldry,  though  the 
word  was  perhaps  originally  heraldick.  So,  in  Bacon's  Colours 
of  Good  and  Evil,  16mo.  1597:  "  In  the  warmer  climates  the 
people  are  generally  more  wise,  but  in  the  northern  climates  the 
wits  of  chief  are  greater." 

If  chief  in  this  sense  had  not  been  familiarly  understood,  the 
editor  of  the  folio  must  have  considered  the  line  as  unintelligible, 
and  would  have  probably  omitted  the  words — of  a  in  the  begin- 
ning of  it,  or  attempted  some  other  correction.  That  not  having 
been  done,  I  have  adhered  to  the  old  copies. 

Our  poet  from  various  passages  in  his  works,  appears  to  have 
been  accurately  acquainted  with  all  the  terms  of  heraldry. 

MALONE. 


58  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

And  borrowing  dulls  the  edge  of  husbandry.2 
This  above  all, — To  thine  ownself  be  true; 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day,3 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 
Farewell ;  my  blessing  season  this  in  thee  !* 

LAER.  Most  humbly  do  I  take  my  leave,  my  lord. 

POL.  The  time  invites  you  ;5  go,  your  servants 
tend.6 

LAER.  Farewell,  Ophelia ;  and  remember  well 
What  I  have  said  to  you. 

OPH.  'Tis  in  my  memory  lock'd, 

And  you  yourself  shall  keep  the  key  of  it.7 

Of  chief,  in  the  passage  quoted  from  Bacon,  is,  I  believe,  a 
bald  translation  of  the  old  French  phrase — de  chef,  whatever,  in 
the  present  instance,  might  be  its  intended  meaning. 

STEEVENS. 

*  of  husbandry.]     i.  e.  of  thrift;  economical  prudence. 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  93,  n.  5.     MALONE. 

3  And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day,]    So,  in  the  145th 
Sonnet  of  Shakspeare : 

"  That  follow'd  it  as  gentle  day 

"  Doth  follow  night,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

4  my  blessing  season  this  in  thee  I']   Season,  for  infuse. 

WAKBURTON. 

It  is  more  than  to  infuse,  it  is  to  infix  it  in  such  a  manner  aa 
that  it  never  may  wear  out.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  the  mock  tragedy  represented  before  the  king: 

" who  in  want  a  hollow  friend  doth  try, 

"  Directly  seasons  him  his  enemy.'*     STEEVENS. 

*  The  t ime  invites  you;"}     So,  m  Macbeth: 

"  I  go,  and  it  is  done,  the  bell  invites  me."  STEEVENS. 
Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto,  1604,  reads — The  time  invests 
you :  which  Mr.  Theobald  preferred,  supposing  that  it  meant, 
"  the  time  besieges,  presses  upon  you  on  every  side."  But  to 
invest,  in  Shakspeare's  time,  only  signified,  to  clothe,  or  give 
possession.  MALONE. 

6  your  servants  tend.]   i.  e.  your  servants  arc  waiting  for 

you.     JOHNSON. 

7  yourself  shall  keep  the  key  of  */.]     The  meaning  is, 


ac.m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  59 

LAER.  Farewell.  [Exit  LAERTES. 

POL.  What  is't,  Ophelia,  he  hath  said  to  you  ? 

OPH.  So  please  you,  something  touching  the  lord 
Hamlet. 

POL.  Marry,  well  bethought : 
'Tis  told  me,  he  hath  very  oft  of  late 
Given  private  time  to  you  :  and  you  yourself 
Have  of  your  audience  been  most  free  and  boun- 
teous : 

If  it  be  so,  (as  so  'tis  put  on  me, 
And  that  in  way  of  caution,)  I  must  tell  you, 
You  do  not  understand  yourself  so  clearly, 
As  it  behoves  my  daughter,  and  your  honour : 
What  is  between  you  ?  give  me  up  the  truth. 

OPH.  He  hath,  my  lord,  of  late,   made  many 

tenders 
Of  his  affection  to  me. 

POL.  Affection  ?  puh !  you  speak  like  a  green 

girl, 
Unsifted  in  such  perilous  circumstance.8 

that  your  counsels  are  as  sure  of  remaining  locked  up  in  my  me- 
mory, as  if  yourself  carried  the  key  of  it.  So,  in  Northward 
Hoe,  by  Decker  and  Webster,  1607  :  "  You  shall  close  it  up  like 
a  treasure  of  your  own,  and  yourself  shall  keep  the  key  of  it." 

STEEVENS. 

8  Unsifted  in  such  perilous  circumstance.']      Unsifted  for  un- 
tried.     Untried  signifies   either  not  tempted,   or  not  refined; 
unsifted  signifies  the  latter  only,  though  the  sense  requires  the 
former.     WARBURTON. 

It  means,  I  believe,  one  who  has  not  sufficiently  considered, 
or  thoroughly  sifted  such  matters.  M.  MASON. 

I  do  not  think  that  the  sense  requires  us  to  understand  un- 
tempted.  "  Unsifted  in,"  &c.  means,  I  think,  one  who  has  not 
nicely  canvassed  and  examined  the  peril  of  her  situation. 

MALONE. 

That  sifted  means  tempted  may  be  seen  in  the  31st  verse  of 
the  22d  chapter  of  St.  Luke's  gospel.  HARRIS. 


60  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Do  you  believe  his  tenders,  as  you  call  them  ? 

OPH.  I  do  not  know,  my  lord,  what  I  should 
think. 

POL.  Many,  I'll  teach  you :  think  yourself  a 

baby ; 

That  you  have  ta'en  these  tenders  for  true  pay, 
Which  are  not  sterling.      Tender  yourself  more 

dearly ; 

Or  (not  to  crack  the  wind  of  the  poor  phrase, 
Wronging  it  thus,)  you'll  tender  me  a  fool.9 


Or  (not  to  crack  the  wind  of  the  poor  phrase, 
Wronging  it  thus,)  you'll  tender  me  a  Jool.~\  The  paren- 
thesis is  closed  at  the  wrong  place ;  and  we  must  have  likewise 
a  slight  correction  in  the  last  verse.  [Wringing  it,  &c.]  Polonius 
is  racking  and  playing  on  the  word  tender,  till  he  thinks  proper 
to  correct  himself  for  the  licence ;  and  then  he  would  say — not 
farther  to  crack  the  wind  of  the  phrase,  by  twisting  it  and  con- 
torting it,  as  I  have  done.  WARBURTON. 

I  believe  the  word  wronging  has  reference,  not  to  the  phrase, 
but  to  Ophelia;  if  you  go  on  wronging  it  thus,  that  is,  if  you 
continue  to  go  on  thus  wrong.  This  is  a  mode  of  speaking  per- 
haps not  very  grammatical,  but  very  common ;  nor  have  the  best 
writers  refused  it. 

"  To  sinner  it  or  saint  it," 
is  in  Pope.     And  Rowe, 

" Thus  to  coy  it, 

"  With  one  who  knows  you  too." 

The  folio  has  it — Roaming  it  thus.  That  is,  letting  yourself 
loose  to  such  improper  liberty.  But  wronging  seems  to  be  more 
proper.  JOHNSON. 

"  See  you  do  not  coy  it,"  is  in  Massinger's  Neva  Way  to  pay 
old  Debts.  STEEVENS. 

I  have  followed  the  punctuation  of  the  first  quarto,  1604-, 
where  the  parenthesis  is  extended  to  the  word  tnust  to  which 
word  the  context  in  my  apprehension  clearly  shows  it  should  be 
carried.  "  Or  (not  to  crack  the  wind  of  the  poor  phrase,  playing 
upon  it,  and  abusing  it  thus,")  &c.  So,  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrecet 
"  To  wrong  the  wronger,  till  he  render  right." 


sc.  m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  61 

OPH.  My  lord,  he  hath  importun'd  me  with  love, 
In  honourable  fashion. 

POL.  Ay,  fashion  you  may  call  it  ;*  go  to,  go  to. 

OPH.  And  hath  given  countenance  to  his  speech, 

my  lord, 
With  almost  all  the  holy  vows  of  heaven. 

POL.  Ay,  springes  to  catch  wroodcocks.2     I  do 

know, 

When  the  blood  burns,  how  prodigal  the  soul 
Lends  the  tongue^fows :  these  blazes,  daughter,3 
Giving  more  light  than  heat, — extinct  in  both, 
Even  in  their  promise,  as  it  is  a  making, — 
You  must  not  take  for  fire.     From  this  time, 
Be  somewhat  scanter  of  your  maiden  presence ; 
Set  your  entreatments4  at  a  higher  rate, 

The  quarto,  by  the  mistake  of  the  compositor,  reads — Wrong 
it  thus.  The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope. 

Tender  yourself  more  dearly ;]     To  tender  is  to  regard 

with  affection.     So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

« ; And  so  betide  me, 

"  As  well  I  tender  you  and  all  of  yours.'* 
Again,  in  The  Maydes  Metamorphosis,  by  Lyly,  1601: 

" if  you  account  us  for  the  same 

"  That  tender  thee,  and  love  Apollo's  name."  MALONE. 

1  fashion  you  may  call  it ;  ]   She  uses  fashion  for  manner ', 

and  he  for  a  transient  practice.     JOHNSON. 

1  springes  to  catch  woodcocks.'}      A  proverbial  saying,, 

"  Every  woman  has  a  springe  to  catch  a  woodcock.'"    STEEVENS. 

3  these  blazes,  daughter,}     Some  epithet  to  blazes  was 

probably  omitted,  by  the  carelessness  of  the  transcriber  or  com- 
positor, in  the  first  quarto,  in  consequence  of  which  the  metre  is 
defective.     MALONE. 

4  Set  your  entreatments — ~\     Entreatments  here  mean  com- 
pany, conversation,  from  the  French  entretien.     JOHNSON. 

Entreatments,  I  rather  think,  means  the  objects  of  entreaty; 
the  favours  for  which  lovers  sue.  In  the  next  scene  we  have  a 
word  of  a  similar  formation : 

"  As  if  it  some  impartment  did  desire,"  &c.    MALONE. 


62  HAMLET,  ACTI. 

Than  a  command  to  parley.     For  lord  Hamlet, 
Believe  so  much  in  him,  That  he  is  young ; 
And  with  a  larger  tether5  may  he  walk, 
Than  may  be  given  you  :  In  few,  Ophelia, 
Do  not  believe  his  vows  :  for  they  are  brokers6 
Not  of  that  die  which  their  investments  show, 
But  mere  implorators  of  unholy  suits, 
Breathing  like  sanctified  and  pious  bonds,7 


larger  tether — ]  A  string  to  tie  horses.     POPE. 


Tether  is  that  string  by  which  an  animal,  set  to  graze  in 
grounds  uninclosed,  is  confined  within  the  proper  limits. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Greene's  Card  of  Fancy,  1601 : — "  To  tye  the  ape  and 
the  bear  in  one  tedder"  Tether  is  a  string  by  which  any  ani- 
mal is  fastened,  whether  for  the  sake  of  feeding  or  the  air. 

STEEVENS. 

6  Do  not  believe  his  vows,  for  they  are  brokers — ~]    A  broker 
in  old  English  meant  a  bawd  or  pimp.     See  the  Glossary  to 
Gawin  Douglass's  translation  of  Virgil.     So,  in  King  John  : 

'*  This  bawd,  this  broker,"  &c. 

See  also,  Vol.  XV.  p.  478,  n.  2.  In  our  author's  Lover's  Com- 
plaint we  again  meet  with  the  same  expression,  applied  in  the 
same  manner : 

"  Know,  vows  are  ever  brokers  to  defiling."     MA  LONE. 

7  Breathing  like  sanctified  and  pious  bonds,]    On  which  the 
editor,   Mr.  Theobald,   remarks,    Though  all  the  editors  have 
swallowed  this  reading  implicitly,  it  is  certainly  corrupt ;   and 
I  have  been  surprized  how  men  of  genius  and  learning  could  let 
it  pass  without  some  suspicion.     What  idea  can  we  frame  to  our- 
selves of  a  breathing  bond,  or  of  its  being  sanctified  and  pious,  &c. 
But  he  was  too  hasty  in  framing  ideas  before  he  understood 
those  already  framed  by  the  poet,  and  expressed  in  very  plain 
words.  Do  not  believe  (says  Polonius  to  his  daughter)  Hamlet's 
amorous  vows  made  to  you;  which  pretend  religion  in  them  (the 
better  to  beguile}  like  those  sanctified  and  pious  vows  [or  bonds] 
made  to  heaven.  And  why  should  not  this  pass  without  suspicion? 

WARBURTON. 

Theobald  for  bonds  substitutes  bawds.     JOHNSON. 
Notwithstanding  Warburton's  elaborate  explanation  of  this 
passage,  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  but  Theobald  is  right,  and 


sc.  in.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  63 

The  better  to  beguile.     This  is  for  all, — 
I  would  not,  in  plain  terms,  from  this  time  forth, 
Have  you  so  slander  any  moment's  leisure,8 
As  to  give  words  or  talk  with  the  lord  Hamlet. 
Look  to't,  I  charge  you ;  come  your  ways. 

OPH.  I  shall  obey,  my  lord.  [Exeunt. 

that  we  ought  to  read  Lauds  instead  of  bonds.     Indeed  the  pre- 
sent reading  is  little  better  than  nonsense. 

Polonius  had  called  Hamlet's  vows,  brokers,  but  two  lines  be- 
fore, a  synonymous  word  to  bawds,  and  the  very  title  that  Shak- 
speare  gives  to  Pandarus,  in  his  Troilus  and  Cressida.  The 
words  implorators  of  unholy  suits,  are  an  exact  description  of  a 
bawd;  and  all  such  of  them  as  are  crafty  in  their  trade,  put  on 
the  appearance  of  sanctity,  and  are  "  not  of  that  die  which  their 
investments  show."  M.  MASON. 

The  old  reading  is  undoubtedly  the  true  one.  Do  not,  says 
Polonius,  believe  his  vows,  for  they  are  merely  uttered  for  the 
purpose  of  persuading  you  to  yield  to  a  criminal  passion,  though 
they  appear  only  the  genuine  effusions  of  a  pure  and  lawful  af- 
fection, and  assume  the  semblance  of  those  sacred  engagements 
entered  into  at  the  altar  of  wedlock.  The  bonds  here  in  our 
poet's  thoughts  were  bonds  of  love.  So,  in  his  142d  Sonnet: 
•those  lips  of  thine, 


Again, 


That  have  profan'd  their  scarlet  ornaments, 
And  seal'd  false  bonds  of  love,  as  oft  as  mine.' 

n  The  Merchant  of  Venice : 


O,  ten  times  faster  Venus'  pigeons  fly, 
To  seal  love's  bonds  new  made,  than  they  are  wont 
To  keep  obliged  faith  unforfeited." 
"  Sanctified  and  pious  bonds,"  are  the  true  bonds  of  love,  or, 
as  our  poet  has  elsewhere  expressed  it : 

"  A  contract  and  eternal  bond  of  love." 

Dr.  Warburton  certainly  misunderstood  this  passage  ;  and 
when  he  triumphantly  asks  "  why  may  not  this  pass  without  sus- 
picion?" if  he  means  his  own  comment,  the  answer  is,  because 
it  is  not  perfectly  accurate.  MALONE. 

8  /  would  not,  in  plain  terms,  from  this  time  forth, 

Have  you  so  slander  any  moment's  leisure, ~]  Polonius  says,  in 
plain  terms,  that  is,  not  in  language  less  elevated  or  embellished 
than  before,  but  in  terms  that  cannot  be  misunderstood:  I  would 
not  have  you  so  disgrace  your  most  idle  moments,  as  not  to  find 
better  employment  for  them  than  lord  Hamlet's  conversation. 

JOHNSON. 


64-  HAMLET,  ACT  z. 

SCENE    IV. 

The  Platform. 
Enter  HAMLET,  HORATIO,  and  MARCELLUS. 

HAM.  The  air  bites  shrewdly ;  it  is  very  cold. 
HOR.  It  is  a  nipping  and  an  eager  air.9 
HAM.  What  hour  now  ? 

HOR.  I  think,  it  lacks  of  twelve. 

MAR.  No,  it  is  struck. 

HOR.  Indeed  ?  I  heard  it  not ;  it  then  draws 

near  the  season, 
Wherein  the  spirit  held  his  wont  to  walk. 

\_A  Flourish  of  Trumpets,  and  Ordnance  shot 
off,  within. 

\£j  * 

What  does  this  mean,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  The  king  doth  wake  to-night,  and  takes 

his  rouse,1 
Keeps  wassel,2  and  the  swaggering  up-spring3  reels ; 


9  an  eager  air.']    That  is,  a  sharp  air,  aigre,  Fr.    So,  in 

a  subsequent  scene : 

"  And  curd,  like  eager  droppings  into  milk." 

MALONE. 

1  takes  his  rouse,]    A  rouse  is  a  large  dose  of  liquor,  a 

debauch.  So,  in  Othello:  "  — they  have  given  me  a  rouse  al- 
ready." It  should  seem  from  the  following  passage  in  Decker's 
Gul's  Hornbook,  1609,  that  the  word  rouse  was  of  Danish  ex- 
traction :  "  Teach  me,  thou  soveraigne  skinker,  how  to  take  the 
German's  upsy  freeze,  the  Danish  rousa,  the  Switzer's  stoop  of 
rhenish,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

*  Keeps  wassel,]     See  Vol.  X.  p.  88,  n.  4.     Again,  in  The 
Hog  hath  lost  ftis  Pearl,  1G14-: 


to.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  65 

And,  as  he  drains  his  draughts  of  Rhenish  down, 
The  kettle-drum  and  trumpet  thus  bray  out4 
The  triumph  of  his  pledge. 

HOR.  Is  it  a  custom  ? 

HAM.  Ay,  marry,  is't  : 
But  to  my  mind,  —  though  I  am  native  here, 
And  to  the  manner  born,  —  it  is  a  custom 
More  honour*  d  in  the  breach,  than  the  observance. 
This  heavy-headed  revel,  east  and  west,5 

"  By  Croesus  name  and  by  his  castle, 
"  Where  winter  nights  he  keepeth  tvassel." 
i.  e.  devotes  his  nights  to  jollity.     STEEVENS. 

3  -  the  swaggering  up-spring  —  ]     The  blustering  upstart. 

JOHNSON. 

It  appears  from  the  following  passage  in  Alphonsus,  Emperor 
of  Germany,  by  Chapman,  that  the  up-spring  was  a  German 
dance: 

"  We  Germans  have  no  changes  in  our  dances  ; 
"  An  almain  and  an  up-spring,  that  is  all." 
Spring  was  anciently  the  name  of  a  tune  :  so  in  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  Prophetess; 

"  -  we  will  meet  him, 
"  And  strike  him  such  new  springs  —  ." 

This  word  is  used  by  G.  Douglas  in  his  translation  of  Virgil, 
and,  I  think,  by  Chaucer.  Again,  in  an  old  Scots  proverb: 
"  Another  would  play  a  spring,  ere  you  tune  your  pipes." 

STEEVENS. 
thus  bray  out  —  1   So,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  5th 


Tf     J 

mad 

"  -  he  laid  out  such  a  throat 

"  As  if  nine  or  ten  thousand  men  had  brayd  out  all  their 

breaths 
"  In  one  confusion."     STEEVENS. 

*  This  heavy-headed  revel,  east  and  west,]  This  heavy-headed 
revel  makes  us  traduced  east  and  west,  and  taxed  of  other 
nations.  JOHNSON. 

By  east  and  west,  as  Mr.  Edwards  has  observed,  is  meant, 
throughout  the  world  ;  from  one  end  of  it  to  the  other.  —  This 
and  the  following  twenty-one  lines  have  been  restored  from  the 
quarto.  MALONE. 

VOL.  XVIII.  F 


66  HAMLET, 

Makes  us  traduc'd,  and  tax'd  of  other  nations ; 

They  clepe  us,  drunkards,6  and  with  swinish  phrase 

Soil  our  addition  ;  and,  indeed  it  takes 

From  our  achievements,  though  perform'dat  height, 

The  pith  and  marrow  of  our  attribute.7 

So,  oft  it  chances  in  particular  men, 

That,  for  some  vicious  mole  of  nature  in  them, 

As,  in  their  birth,  (wherein  they  are  not  guilty, 

Since  nature  cannot  choose  his  origin,)8 


'  They  chpe. us,  drunkards,~\  And  well  our  Englishmen  might; 
for  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time  there  was  a  Dane  in  London,  of 
whom  the  following  mention  is  made  in  a  collection  of  characters 
entitled,  Looks  to  it,  for  lie  stab  ye,  no  date : 

"  You  that  will  drinke  Keynaldo  unto  deth, 

**  The  Dane  that  would  carowse  out  of  his  boote." 

Mr.  M.  Mason  adds,  that  "  it  appears  from  one  of  Howell's 
letters,  dated  at  Hamburgh  in  the  year  1632,  that  the  then  King 
of  Denmark  had  not  degenerated  from  his  jovial  predecessor. — 
In  his  account  of  an  entertainment  given  by  his  majesty  to  the 
Earl  of  Leicester^  he  tells  us,  that  the  king,  after  beginning 
thirty-five  toasts,  was  carried  away  in  his  chair,  and  that  all  the 
officers  of  the  court  were  drunk."  STEEVENS. 

See  also  the  Nugce  Antigua!,  Vol.  II.  p.  133,  for  the  scene  of 
drunkenness  introduced  into  the  court  of  James  I.  by  the  King 
of  Denmark,  in  1606. 

Roger  Ascham  in  one  of  his  Letters,  mentions  being  present 
at  an  entertainment  where  the  Emperor  of  Germany  seemed  in 
drinking  to  rival  the  King  of  Denmark  :  "  The  Emperor,  (says 
he)  drank  the  best  that  ever  I  saw ;  he  had  his  head  in  the  glass 
five  times  as  long  as  any  of  us,  and  never  drank  less  than  a  good 
quart  at  once  of  Rhenish  tvine."  REED. 

7  The  pith  and  marrow  of  our  attribute.^     The  best  and  most 
valuable  part  of  the  praise  that  would  be  otherwise  attributed  to 
us.    JOHNSON. 

8  That,  for  some  vicious  mole  of  nature  in  them, 
As,  in  their  birth,  (wherein  they  are  not  guilty, 

Since  nature  cannot  choose  his  origin,)'}     We  have  the  same 
uenthnent  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 

"  For  marks  descried  in  man's  nativity 

"  Are  nature's  fault,  not  their  own  infamy." 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  67 

By  the  o'ergrowth  of  some  complexion,9 
Oft  breaking  down  the  pales  and  forts  of  reason ; 
Or  by  some  habit,  that  too  much  o'er-leavens 
The  form  of  plausive manners;1 — that  these  men, — 
Carrying,  I  say,  the  stamp  of  one  defect ; 
Being  nature's  livery,  or  fortune's  star,2 — 


Mr.  Theobald,  without  necessity,  altered  mole  to  mould.  The 
reading  of  the  old  copies  is  fully  supported  by  a  passage  in  King 
John ; 

"-  Patch' d  with  foul  moles,  and  eye-offending  marks.'* 

MALONE. 

9 complexion,"]     i.  e.  humour ;  as  sanguine,  melancholy, 

phlegmatick,  &c.    WARBURTON. 

The  quarto,  1604,  for  the  has  their  ;  as  a  few  lines  lower  it  has 
his  virtues,  instead  of  their  virtues.  The  correction  was  made 
by  Mr.  Theobald.  MALONE. 

1  — —  that  too  much  o'er-leavens 

The  form  of  plausive  manners  /]  That  intermingles  too 
much  with  their  manners ;  infects  and  corrupts  them.  See  Cym- 
beline,  Act  III.  sc.  iv.  Plausive  in  our  poet's  age  signified  gra- 
cious, pleasing,  popular.  So,  in  All's  well  that  ends  well: 

"  . his  plausive  words 

"  He  scatter'd  not  in  ears,  but  grafted  them, 
"  To  grow  there,  and  to  bear." 

Plausible,  in  which  sense  plausive  is  here  used,  is  defined  by 
Cawdrey,  in  his  Alphabetical  Table,  &c.  1604:  "Pleasing,  or 
received  joyfully  and  willingly."  MALONE. 

2 fortune's  star,]      The  word  star  in  the  text  signifies  a 

scar  of  that  appearance.  It  is  a  term  of  farriery:  the  white  star 
or  mark  so  common  on  the  forehead  of  a  dark  coloured  horse,  is 
usually  produced  by  making  a  scar  on  the  place.  RITSOX. 

fortune's  star,]  Some  accidental  blemish,  the  consequence 

of  the  overgrowth  of  some  complexion  or  humour  allotted  to  us  by 
fortune  at  our  birth,  or  some  vicious  habit  accidentally  acquired 
afterwards. 

Theobald,  plausibly  enough,  would  read — fortune's  scar.  The 
emendation  may  be  supported  by  a  passage  in  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra : 

"  The  scars  upon  your  honour  therefore  he 
"  Does  pity  as  constrained  blemishes, 
"  Not  as  deserv'd."     MALONE. 

p  o, 


6»  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Their  virtues  else  (be  they  as  pure  as  grace, 
As  infinite  as  man  may  undergo,)3 
Shall  in  the  general  censure  take  corruption 
From  that  particular  fault :  The  dram  of  base 
Doth  all  the  noble  substance  often  dout, 
To  his  own  scandal.4 

*  As  infinite  as  man  may  undergo,)}  A*  large  as  can  be  ac- 
cumulated upon  man.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

"  To  undergo  such  ample  grace  and  honour, — ." 

STEEVENS. 

4 The  dram  of  base 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  often  dout, 
To  his  own  scandal.]     I  once  proposed  to  read — Dot k  all  the 
noble  substance  (i.  e.  the  sum  of  good  qualities)  oft  do  out.    We 
should  now  say, — To  its  own  scandal ;  but  his  and  its  are  per- 
petually confounded  in  the  old  copies. 

As  I  understand  the  passage,  there  is  little  difficulty  in  it. 

This  is  one  of  the  phrases  which  at  present  are  neither  employed 

in  writing,  nor  perhaps  are  reconcileable  to  propriety  of  language. 

To  do  a  thing  out,  is  to  extinguish  it,  or  to  efface  or  obliterate 

any  thing  painted  or  written. 

In  the  first  of  these  significations  it  is  used  by  Drayton,  in  the 
5th  Canto  of  his  Barons'  Wars: 

"  Was  ta'en  in  battle,  and  his  eyes  out-done" 
My  conjecture — do  out,  instead  of  doubt,  might  have  received 
support  from  the  pronunciation  of  this  verb  in  Warwickshire, 
where  they  always  say — "  dout  the  candle," — "  dout  the  fire ;" 
i.  e.  put  out  or  extinguish  them.  The  forfex  by  which  a  candle 
is  extinguished  is  also  there  called — a  douter. 

Dout,  however,  is  a  word  formed  by  the  coalescence  of  two 
others, — (do  and  out)  like  don  for  do  on,  dqjffor  do  off,  both  of 
which  are  used  by  Shakspeare. 

The  word  in  question  (and  with  the  same  blunder  in  spell  ing) 
has  already  occurred  in  the  ancient  copies  in  King  Henry  Vi 

" make  incision  in  their  hides, 

"  That  their  hot  blood  may  spin  in  English  eyes, 
*'  And  doubt  them  with  superfluous  courage:" 
i.  e.  put  or  do  them  out.    I  therefore  now  think  we  should  read; 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  often  dout,  #c. 
for  surely  it  is  needless  to  say — 

the  noble  substance  of  worth  dottt, 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  S9 

Enter  Ghost. 
HOR.  Look,  my  lord,  it  comes  ! 


because  the  idea  of  txtorth  is  comprehended  in  the  epithet— 
noble. 

N.B.  The  improvement  which  my  former  note  on  this  passage 
has  received,  I  owed,  about  four  years  ago,  to  the  late  Rev. 
Henry  Homer,  a  native  of  Warwickshire.  But  as  Mr.  Malone 
appears  to  have  been  furnished  with  almost  the  same  intelligence, 
I  shall  not  suppress  his  mode  of  communicating  it,  as  he  may 
fairly  plead  priority  in  having  laid  it  before  the  publick.  This  is 
the  sole  cause  why  our  readers  are  here  presented  with  two  an- 
notations, of  almost  similar  tendency,  on  the  same  subject :  for 
unwilling  as  I  am  to  withhold  justice  from  a  dead  friend,  I 
should  with  equal  reluctance  defraud  a  living  critick  of  his  due. 

STEEVENS. 

The  quarto,  where  alone  this  passage  is  found,  exhibits  it  thus  : 

the  dram  o/'eale 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  of  a.  doubt, 
To  his  own  scandal. 

To  dout,  as  I  have  already  observed  in  a  note  on  King  Henry 
V.  Vol.  XII.  p.  444,  n.  1,  signified  in  Shakspeare's  time,  and  yet 
signifies  in  Devonshire  and  other  western  counties,  to  do  out,  to 
efface,  to  extinguish.  Thus  they  say,  "  dout  the  candle," — 
"  dout  the  fire,"  &c.  It  is  exactly  formed  in  the  same  manner 
as  to  don  (or  do  on,]  which  occurs  so  often  in  the  writings  of 
our  poet  and  his  contemporaries. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  the  corruption  of  the  text  arose  in  the 
following  manner.  Dout,  which  I  have  nowprinted  in  the  text, 
having  been  written  by  the  mistake  of  the  transcriber,  doubt, 
and  the  word  worth  having  been  inadvertently  omitted,  the  line, 
in  the  copy  that  went  to  the  press,  stood — 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  of  doubt, 

The  editor  or  printer  of  the  quarto  copy,  finding  the  line  too 
short,  and  thinking  doubt  must  want  an  article,  inserted  it,  with- 
out attending  to  the  context ;  and  instead  of  correcting  the  erro- 
neous, and  supplying  the  true  word,  printed — 

Doth  all  the  noble  substance  of' a  doubt,  fyc. 
The  very  same  error  has  happened  in  King  Henry  V ; 
"  That  their  hot  blood  may  spin  in  English  eyes, 
"  And  doubt  them  with  superfluous  courage :" 
where  doubt  is  again  printed  instead  of  dout. 


70  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

HAM.    Angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend 
us!5— 

That  'worth  (which  was  supplied  first  by  Mr.  Theobald)  was 
the  word  omitted  originally  in  the  hurry  of  transcription,  may 
be  fairly  collected  from  a  passage  in  Cymbdine,  which  fully  jus- 
tifies the  correction  made : 

" Is  she  with  Posthumus  ? 

**  From  whose  so  many  weights  of  baseness  cannot 
"  A  dram  of  worth  be  drawn." 

This  passage  also  adds  support  to  the  correction  of  the  word 
eale  in  the  first  of  these  lines,  which  was  likewise  made  by  Mr. 
Theobald. — Base  is  used  substantively  for  baseness:  a  practice 
not  uncommon  in  Shakspeare.     So,  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 
"  Say  what  thou  canst,  my  false  outweighs  your  true." 
Shakspeare,  however,  might  have  written — the  dram  of  ill. 
This  is  nearer  the  corrupted  word  eale,  but  the  passage  in  Cym- 
beline  is  in  favour  of  the  other  emendation. 

The  meaning  of  the  passage  thus  corrected  is,  The  smallest 
particle  of  vice  so  blemishes  the  whole  mass  of  virtue,  as  to  erase 
from  the  minds  of  mankind  the  recollection  of  the  numerous 
good  qualities  possessed  by  him  who  is  thus  blemished  by  a  sin- 
gle stain,  and  taints  his  general  character. 

To  his  oivn  scandal,  means,  so  as  to  reduce  the  whole  mass  of 
iKorth  to  its  own  vicious  and  unsightly  appearance ;  to  translate 
his  virtue  to  the  likeness  of  vice. 

His  for  its,  is  so  common  in  Shakspeare,  that  every  play  fur- 
nishes us  with  examples.  So,  in  a  subsequent  scene  in  this 
play: — "  than  the  force  of  honesty  can  translate  beauty  into  his 
likeness." 

Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens : 

"  When  every  feather  sticks  in  his  own  wing, ." 

Again,  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream  t 

"  Whose  liquor  hath  this  virtuous  property, 
"  To  take  from  thence  all  error  with  his  might." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  That  it  may  show  me  what  a  face  I  have, 
"  Since  it  is  bankrupt  of  his  majesty." 
So,  in  Grim,  the  Collier  of  Croydon  : 

Contented  life,  that  gives  the  heart  his  ease,- 


We  meet  with  a  sentiment  somewhat  similar  to  that  before  us, 
in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I. 

"  —   —  oftentimes  it  doth  present  harsh  rage, 
"  Defect  of  manners,  want  of  government, 
"  Pride,  haughtiness,  opinion,  and  disdain: 


ac.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  71 

Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn'd,6 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from 

hell, 
Be  thy  intents  wicked,  or  charitable, 


"  The  least  of  which,  haunting  a  nobleman, 

"  Loseth  men's  hearts,  and  leaves  behind  a  stain 

"  Upon  the  beauty  of  all  parts  besides, 

"  Beguiling  them  of  commendation  "     MALONE. 

*  Angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us!  &c.]  Hamlet's 
speech  to  the  apparition  of  his  father  seems  to  consist  of  three 
parts.  When  first  he  sees  the  spectre,  he  fortifies  himself  with 
an  invocation : 

Angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us! 
As  the  spectre  approaches,  he  deliberates  with  himself,  and 
determines,  that  whatever  it  be  he  will  venture  to  address  it. 
Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn'd, 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell, 
Be  thy  intents  wicked,  or  charitable, 
Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape, 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee.     I'll  call  thee,  &c. 
This  he  says  while  his  father  is  advancing ;  he  then,  as  he  had 
determined,  speaks  to  him,  and  calls  him — Hamlet,  King,  Father, 
Royal  Dane  :  0  !  answer  me.     JOHNSON. 

6  Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damn'd,  &c.~]  So,  in 
Acolastus  his  After-wit,  1600: 

"  Art  thou  a  god,  a  man,  or  else  a  ghost  ? 
"  Com'st  thou  from  heaven,  where  bliss  and  solace  dwell  ? 
"  Or  from  the  airie  cold-engendering  coast? 
"  Or  from  the  darksome  dungeonrhold  of  hell  ?" 
The  first  known  edition  of  this  play  is  in  1604. 
The  same  question  occurs  also  in  the  MS.  known  by  the  title 
of  William  and  the  Werwolf,  in  the  Library  of  King's  College, 
Cambridge : 

"  Whether  thou  be  a  gode  gost  in  goddis  name  that 

speakest, 

"  Or  any  foul  fiend  fourmed  in  this  wise, 
"  And  if  we  schul  of  the  hent  harme  or  gode."     p.  36. 
Again,  in  Barnaby  Googe's  Fourth  Eglog  : 

"  What  soever  thou  art  yl  thus  dost  com, 

"  Ghoost,  hagge,  or  fende  of  hell, 
"  I  the  comaunde  by  him  that  lyves 

"  Thy  name  and  case  to  tell."     STEEVENS. 


73  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape,7 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee ;  I'll  call  thee,  Hamlet, 
King,  father,  royal  Dane  :  O,  answer  me  : 
Let  me  not  burst  in  ignorance!  but  tell, 
Why  thy  canoniz'd  bones,  hearsed  in  death, 
Have  burst  their  cerements  !8  why  the  sepulchre, 

7 questionable  shape,"]     By  questionable  is  meant  pro- 

Toking  question.     HANMER. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  Live  you,  or  are  you  aught 

"  That  man  may  question  ?"     JOHNSON. 

Questionable,  I  believe,  means  only  projntious  to  conversa- 
tion, easy  and  loitting  to  be  conversed  with.  So,  in  As  you  like  it: 
"  An  unquestionable  spirit,  which  you  have  not."  unquestion- 
able in  this  last  instance  certainly  signifies  unwilling  to  be  talked 
with.  STEEVENS. 

Questionable  perhaps  only  means  capable   of  being  conversed 
with.     To  question,  certainly  in  our  author's  time  signified  to 
converse.     So,  in  his  Rape  of  Lucrece,  1594? : 
"  For  after  supper  long  he  questioned 
"  With  modest  Lucrece — ." 
Again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  Out  of  our  question  wipe  him." 
See  also  King  Lear,  Act  V.  sc.  iii.    MALONE. 


tell, 


Why  thy  canoniz'd  bones,  hearsed  in  death, 

Have  burst  their  cerements  /]  Hamlet,  amazed  at  an  appa- 
rition, which,  though  in  all  ages  credited,  has  in  all  ages  been 
considered  as  the  most  wonderful  and  most  dreadful  operation  of 
supernatural  agency,  enquires  of  the  spectre,  in  themost  empha- 
tick  terms,  why  he  breaks  the  order  of  nature,  by  returning  from 
the  dead ;  this  he  asks  in  a  very  confused  circumlocution,  con- 
founding in  his  fright  the  soul  and  body.  Why,  says  he,  have 
thy  bones,  which  with  due  ceremonies  have  been  entombed  in 
death,  in  the  common  state  of  departed  mortals,  burst  the  folds  in 
which  they  were  embalmed  ?  Why  has  the  tomb,  in  which  we 
saw  thee  quietly  laid,  opened  Ms  mouth,  that  mouth  which,  by 
its  weight  and  stability,  seemed  closed  for  ever?  The  whole 
sentence  is  this  ;  Why  dott  thou  appear,  whom  we  know  to  be 
dead?  JOHNSON. 


ac.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  73 

Wherein  we  saw  thee  quietly  in-urn'd,9 
Hath  op'd  his  ponderous  and  marble  jaws, 
To  cast  thee  up  again  !     What  may  this  mean, 
That  thou,  dead  corse,  again,  in  complete  steel, l 
Revisit' st  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon, 


By  the  expression  hearsed  in  death  is  meant,  shut  up  and  se- 
cured with  all  those  precautions  which  are  usually  practised  in 
preparing  dead  bodies  for  sepulture,  such  as  the  winding-sheet, 
shrowd,  coffin,  &c.  perhaps  embalming  into  the  bargain.  So 
that  death  is  here  used,  by  a  metonymy  of  the  antecedent  for 
the  consequents,  for  the  rites  of  death,  such  as  are  generally 
esteemed  due,  and  practised  with  regard  to  dead  bodies.  Con- 
sequently, I  understand  by  cerements,  the  waxed  winding-sheet 
or  winding-sheets,  in  which  the  corpse  was  enclosed  and  sown 
up,  in  order  to  preserve  it  the  longer  from  external  impressions 
from  the  humidity  of  the  sepulchre,  as  embalming  was  intended 
to  preserve  it  from  internal  corruption.  HEATH. 

By  hearsed  in  death,  the  poet  seems  to  mean,  reposited  and 

confined  in  the  place  of  the  dead.     In  his  Rape  ofLucrece  he  has 

again  used  this  uncommon  participle  in  nearly  the  same  sense : 

"  Thy  sea  within  a  puddle's  womb  is  hearsed, 

"  And  not  the  puddle  in  thy  sea  dispersed."     MALONE. 

9 quietly  in-urn'd,]     The  quartos  read — interred. 

STEEVENS. 

1  That  thou,  dead  corse,  again,  in  complete  steel,~]  Thus  also 
is  the  adjective  complete  accented  by  Chapman  in  his  version  of 
the  fifth  Iliad: 

"  And  made  his  complete  armour  cast  a  far  more  complete 

light." 
Again,  in  the  nineteenth  Iliad : 

"  Grave  silence  strook  the  complete  court." 

It  is  probable,  that  Shakspeare  introduced  his'Ghost  in  armour, 
that  it  might  appear  more  .solemn  by  such  a  discrimination  from 
the  other  characters  ;  though  it  was  really  the  custom  of  the 
Danish  kings  to  be  buried  in  that  manner.  Vide  Olaus  Wor- 
mius,  cap.  vii : 

**  Struem  regi  nee  vestibus,  nee  odoribus  cumulant,  sua  cui- 
que  arma,  quorundam  igni  et  equus  adjicitur." 

" sed  postquam  magnanimus  ille  Danorum  rex  collem 

sibi  magnitudinis  conspicuae  extruxisset,  ( cui  post  obitum  regio 
diademate  exornatum,  armis  indutum,  inferendum  esset  cada- 
ver," &c.  STEEVENS. 


74  HAMLET,  ACT  rr 

Making  night  hideous  ;  and  we  fools  of  nature,2 
So  horridly  to  shake  our  disposition,3 
With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls  ? 
Say,  why  is  this  ?  wherefore  ?  what  should  we  do  ? 

HOR.  It  beckons  you  to  go  away  with  it, 
As  if  it  some  impartment  did  desire 
To  you  alone. 

MAR.  Look,  with  what  courteous  action 

It  waves  you  to  a  more  removed  ground  :* 
But  do  not  go  with  it. 

HOR.  No,  by  no  means. 

HAM.  It  will  not  speak ;  then  I  will  follow  it. 
HOR.  Do  not,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Why,  what  should  be  the  fear  ? 

I  do  not  set  my  life  at  a  pin's  fee  ;5 
And,  for  my  soul,  what  can  it  do  to  that, 
Being  a  thing  immortal  as  itself? 
It  waves  me  forth  again ; — I'll  follow  it. 


* "we fools  of  nature,"]  The  expression  is  fine,  as  intima- 
ting we  were  only  kept  (as  formerly,  fools  in  a  great  family,)  to 
make  sport  for  nature,  who  lay  hid  only  to  mock  and  laugh  at 
us,  for  our  vain  searches  into  her  mysteries.  WARBURTON. 

"we  fools  of  nature,"]     i.  e.  making  us,  who  are  the  sport 

of  nature,  whose  mysterious  operations  are  beyond  the  reaches 
of  our  souls,  &c.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  : 
"  0,  I  am  fortune's  fool."     MALONE. 

fools  of  nature,"]     This  phrase  is  used  by  Davenant,  in 

the  Cruel  Brother,  1630,  Act  V.  sc.  i.     REED. 

3 to  shake  our  disposition,]     Disposition  for  frame. 

WARBURTOX. 

4 a  more  removed  ground :"]  i.  e.  remote.  So,  in  A  Mid- 
summer'Night's  Dream  : 

"  From  Athens  is  her  house  remov'd  seven  leagues." 
The  first  folio  reads — remote.    STEEVENS. 

* pin's  foe ;]  The  value  of  a  pin.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  75 

Hon.  What,  if  it  tempt  you  toward  the  flood, 

my  lord, 

Or  to  the  dreadful  summit  of  the  cliff, 
That  beetles  o'er  his  base6  into  the  sea  ? 
And  there  assume  some  other  horrible  form, 
Which  might  deprive  your  sovereignty  of  reason,7 
And  draw  you  into  madness  ?  think  of  it : 
The  very  place8  puts  toys  of  desperation,9 

c  That  beetles  o'er  his  base — ]  So,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia, 
B.  I :  "  Hills  lifted  up  their  beetle  brows,  as  if  they  would  over- 
looke  pleasantnesse  of  their  under  prospect."  STEEVENS. 

That  beetles  o'er  his  base — ]  That  hangs  o'er  his'  base,  like 
what  is  called  a  beetle-brow.  This  verb  is,  I  believe,  of  our  au- 
thor's coinage.  MALONE. 

7 deprive  your  sovereignty  of  reason,"]     i.  e.  your  ruling 

power  of  reason.  When  poets  wish  to  invest  any  quality  or 
virtue  with  uncommon  splendor,  they  do  it  by  some  allusion  to 
regal  eminence.  Thus,  among  the  excellencies  of  Banquo's 
character,  our  author  distinguishes  "  his  royalty  of  nature," 
i.  e.  his  natural  superiority  over  others,  his  independent  dignity 
of  mind.  I  have  selected  this  instance  to  explain  the  former, 
because  I  am  told  that  "  royalty  of  nature"  has  been  idly  sup- 
posed to  bear  some  allusion  to  Banquo's  distant  prospect  of  the 
crown. 

To  deprive  your  sovereignty  of  reason,  therefore,  does  not 
signify,  to  deprive  your  princely  mind  of  rational  powers,  but,  to 
take  away  from  you  the  command  of  reason,  by  which  man  is 
governed. 

So,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  first  Iliad: 

" I  come  from  heaven  to  see 

"  Thy  anger  settled  :  if  thy  soul  will  use  her  soveraigntie 
«  In  fit  reflection." 

Dr.  Warburton  would  read  deprave  ;  but  several  proofs  are 
given  in  a  note  to  King  Lear,  Vol.  XVII.  Act  I.  sc.  ii.  of  Shak- 
speare's  use  of  the  word  deprive,  which  is  the  true  reading. 

STEEVENS. 

I  believe,  deprive  in  this  place  signifies  simply  to  take  away. 

JOHNSON. 

8  The  very  place — ]     The  four  following  lines  added  from  the 
first  edition.     POPE. 

9  puts  toys  of  desperation,"]     Toys,  for  whims. 

WARBURTON. 


76  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Without  more  motive,  into  every  brain, 
That  looks  so  many  fathoms  to  the  sea, 
And  hears  it  roar  beneath. 

HAM.  It  waves  me  still : — 

Go  on,  I'll  follow  thee. 

MAR.  You  shall  not  go,  my  lord. 
HAM.  Hold  off  your  hands. 

HOR.  Be  rul'd,  you  shall  not  go. 
HAM.  My  fate  cries  out, 

And  makes  each  petty  artery  in  this  body 
As  hardy  as  the  Nemean  lion's  nerve. ' — 

[Ghost  beckons. 
Still  am  I  call'd  ; — unhand  me,  gentlemen;— 

\_Breaki7igJrom  them. 
By  heaven,  I'll   make  a  ghost  of  him  that  lets 

me  :2 — 
I  say,  away  : — Go  on,  I'll  follow  thee. 

[Exeunt  Ghost  and  HAMLET. 

1  As  hardy  as  the  "Nemean  lion's  neroe.~\  Shakspeare  has  again 
accented  the  word  Nemean  in  this  manner,  in  Love't  Labour's 
Lost  : 

"  Thus  dost  tliou  hear  the  N6mean  lion  roar." 

Spenser,  however,  wrote  Nenaean,  Fairy  Queen,  B.  V.  c.  i : 
"  Into  the  great  Nemean  lion's  grove." 

Our  poet's  conforming  in  this  instance  to  Latin  prosody  was 
certainly  accidental,  for  he,  and  almost  all  the  poets  of  his  time, 
disregarded  the  quantity  of  Latin  names.  So,  in  Locrine,  1595, 
(though  undoubtedly  the  production  of  a  scholar,)  we  have  Am- 
phion  instead  of  Amphion,  &c.  See  also,  p.  39,  n.  8. 

MALONE. 

The  true  quantity  of  this  word  was  rendered  obvious  to  Shak- 
speare by  Twine's  translation  of  part  of  the  JEneid,  and  Gold- 
ing's  version  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis.  STEEVENS. 

* that  lets  me :]     To  let  among  our  old  authors  signifies 

to  prevent,  to  hinder.     It  is  still  a  word  current  in  the  law,  and 
to  be  found  in  almost  all  leases.     STEEVENS. 

So,  in  No  Wit  like  a  Woman's,  a  comedy,  by  Middleton, 
1657: 

'*  That  lets  her  not  to  be  your  daughter  now.'*  MALONE. 


sc.  r.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  77 

HOR.  He  waxes  desperate  with  imagination. 
MAR.  Let's  follow ;  'tis  not  fit  thus  to  obey  him. 
HOR.  Have  after: — To  what  issue  will  this  come? 

MAR.  Something  is  rotten  in  the  state  of  Den- 
mark. 

HOR.  Heaven  will  direct  it.3 

MAR.  Nay,  let's  follow  him. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  V. 

A  more  remote  Part  of  the  Platform. 
Re-enter  Ghost  and  HAMLET. 

HAM.   Whither  wilt  thou  lead  me  ?   Speak,  I'll 
go  no  further. 

GHOST.  Mark  me. 
HAM.  I  will. 

GHOST.  My  hour  is  almost  come, 

When  I  to  sulphurous  and  tormenting  flames 
Must  render  up  myself. 

HAM.  Alas,  poor  ghost ! 

GHOST.  Pity  me  not,  but  lend  thy  serious  hearing 
To  what  I  shall  unfold. 

HAM.  Speak,  I  am  bound  to  hear. 

3  Heaven  tvill  direct  it."]  Perhaps  it  may  be  more  apposite  to 
read,  "  Heaven  will  detect  it."  FARMER. 

Marcellus  answers  Horatio's  question,  "  To  what  issue  will 
this  come?"  and  Horatio  also  answers  it  himself  with  a  pious 
resignation,  "  Heaven  will  direct  it,"  BLACKSTQNE. 


19  HAMLET,  ACT r. 

GHOST.  So  art  thou  to  revenge,  when  thou  shalt 
hear. 

HAM.  What? 

GHOST.  I  am  thy  father's  spirit ; 
Doom'd  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night ; 
And,  for  the  day,  confin'd  to  fast  in  fires,4 
Till  the  foul  crimes,  done  in  my  days  of  nature, 
Are  burnt  and  purg'd  away.5  But  that  I  am  forbid 


4  Doom'd  for  a  certain  term  to  lualk  the  night ; 

And,  for  the  day,  confin'd  to  fast  inf,res,~]  Chaucer  has  a 
similar  passage  with  regard  to  the  punishments  of  hell,  Parson's 
Tale,  p.  193,  Mr.  Urry's  edition.  "  And  moreover  the  misese 
of  hell,  shall  be  in  defaute  of  mete  and  drinke."  SMITH. 

Nash,  in  his  Pierce  Penniless  his  Supplication  to  the  Devil, 
1595,  has  the  same  idea:  "  Whether  it  be  a  place  of  horror, 
stench  and  darkness,  where  men  see  meat,  but  can  get  none,  and 
are  ever  thirsty,"  &c.     Before  I  had  read  the  Persones  Tale  of 
Chaucer,  I  supposed  that  he  meant  rather  to  drop  a  stroke  of 
satire  on  sacerdotal  luxury,  than  to  give  a  serious  account  of  the 
place  of  future  torment.       Chaucer,  however,  is  as  grave  as 
Shakspeare.     So,  likewise  at  the  conclusion  of  an  ancient  pam- 
phlet called  The  Wyll  of  the  Devyll,  bl.  1.  no  date : 
"  Thou  shalt  lye  in  frost  and^re 
"  With  sicknesse  and  hunger;"  &c. 
Again,  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost  : 

" \Q\e?£jasting  pain." 

It  is  observable,  that  in  the  statutes  of  our  religious  houses, 
most  of  the  punishments  affect  the  diet  of  the  offenders. 

But  for  the  foregoing  examples,  I  should  have  supposed  we 
ought  to  read — "  confin'd  to  ivaste  in  fires."  STEEVENS. 

This  passage  requires  no  amendment.  As  spirits  were  sup- 
posed to  feel  the  same  desires  and  appetites  that  they  had  on 
earth,  tofast  might  be  considered  as  one  of  the  punishments  in- 
flicted on  the  wicked.  M.  MASON. 

.*  Are  burnt  and  purg'd  atco?/.]  Gawin  Douglas  really  changes 
the  Platonic  hell  into  the  "  punytion  of  saulis  in  purgatory:" 
and  it  is  observable,  that  when  the  Ghost  informs  Hamlet  of  his 
doom  there — 

«'  Till  the  foul  crimes  done  in  his  days  of  nature 
"  Are  burnt  and  purg'd  away" — 


K.  r.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  79 

To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul ;  freeze  thy  young  blood ; 
Make  thy  two  eyes,  like  stars,  start  from  their 

spheres  ;6 

Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part, 
And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end, 
Like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine  :7 


The  expression  is  very  similar  to  the  Bishop's.     I  will  give  you 
his  version  as  concisely  as  I  can  :  "  It  is  a  nedeful  thyng  to 
suffer  panis  and  torment ; — Sum  in  the  wyndis,  sum  under  the 
waiter,  and  in  the  fire  uthir  sum  :  thus  the  mony  vices  — 
"  Contrakkit  in  the  corpis  be  done  away 

"  Andpurgit." Sixte  Book  of  Eneados,  fol.  p.  191. 

FARMER. 

Shakspeare  might  have  found  this  expression  in  The  Hystorie 
of  Hamblet,  bl.  1.  F.  2,"  edit.  1608 :  "  He  set  fire  in  the  foure 
corners  of  the  hal,  in  such  sort,  that  of  all  that  were  as  then 
therein  not  one  escaped  away,  but  were  forced  to  purge  their 
shines  byjire"  MALONE. 

Shakspeare  talks  more  like  a  Papist,  than  a  Platonist;  but 
the  language  of  Bishop  Douglas  is  that  of  a  good  Protestant : 

"  Thus  the  mony  vices 

"  Contrakkit  in  the  corpis  be  done  away 

"  And  purgit." 

These  are  the  very  words  of  our  Liturgy,  in  the  commendatory 
prayer  for  a  sick  person  at  the  point  of  departure,  in  the  office 
for  the  visitation  of  the  sick: — "  Whatsoever  defilements  it  may 
have  contracted — being  purged  and  done  away."  WHALLEY. 

6  Make  thy  two  eyes,  like  stars,  start  from  their  spheres ;]  So, 
in  our  poet's  108th  Sonnet : 

"  How  have  mine  eyes  out  of  their  spheres  beenjitted, 
"  In  the  distraction  of  this  madding  fever  !"     MALONE. 

13 fretful  porcupine  :]       The  quartos  read— -fearful  &c. 

Either  epithet  may  serve.  This  animal  is  at  once  irascible  and 
timid.  The  same  image  occurs  in  The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose, 
where  Chaucer  is  describing  the  personage  of  danger: 

"  Like  sharpe  urchons  his  heere  was  grow." 
An  urchin  is  a  hedge-hog. 

The  old  copies,  however,  have  —  porpentine,  which  is  fr&- 


SO  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

But  this  eternal  blazon  must  not  be 

To  ears  of  flesh  and  blood : — List,  list,  O  list ! — 

If  thou  didst  ever  thy  dear  father  love, 

HAM.  O  heaven ! 

GHOST.  Revenge  his  foul  and  most  unnatural 
murder.8 

HAM.  Murder  ? 

GHOST.  Murder  most  foul,  as  in  the  best  it  is ; 
But  this  most  foul,  strange,  and  unnatural. 

HAM.  Haste  me  to  know  it ;  that  I,  with  wings 

as  swift 
As  meditation,  or  the  thoughts  of  love,9 

quently  written  by  our  ancient  poets  instead  of  porcupine.     So, 
in  Skialetheia,  a  collection  of  Epigrams,  Satires,  &c.  1598: 
"  Porpentine-bzcked,  for  he  lies  on  thornes." 

STEEVENS. 

*  Revenge  his  foul  and  most  unnatural  murder.'}  As  a  proof 
that  this  play  was  written  before  1597,  of  which  the  contrary 
has  been  asserted  by  Mr.  Holt  in  Dr.  Johnson's  Appendix,  I  must 
borrow,  as  usual,  from  Dr.  Farmer :  "  Shakspeare  is  said  to  have 
been  no  extraordinary  actor  ;  and  thatthe  top  of  his  performance 
was  the  Ghost  in  his  own  Hamlet.  Yet  this  chefd'oeuvre  did  not 

E  lease :  I  will  give  you  an  original  stroke  at  it.  Dr.  Lodge  pub- 
shed  in  the  year  1596,  a  pamphlet  called  Wit's  Miserie,  or  the 
World's  Madness,  discovering  the  incarnate  Devils  of  the  Agey 
quarto.  One  of  these  devils  is,  Hate-virtue,  or  sorrow  for  ono- 
ther  man's  good,  successe,  who,  says  the  doctor,  is  a  Joule  lubber, 
and  looks  as  pale  as  the  vizard  of  the  Ghost,  which  cried  so  mi- 
serably at  the  theatre,  Hamlet  revenge."  STEEVENS. 

I  suspect  that  this  stroke  was  levelled  not  at  Shakspeare,  but 
at  the  performer  of  the  Ghost  in  an  older  play  on  this  subject, 
exhibited  before  1589.  See  An  Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order 
of  Shakspeare' s  Plays,  Vol.  II.  MALONE. 

9  As  meditation,  or  the  thoughts  of  love, ~]  This  similitude  is 
extremely  beautiful.  The  word  meditation  is  consecrated,  by 
the  mysticks,  to  signify  that  stretch  and  flight  of  mind  which 
aspires  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  supreme  good.  So  that  Hamlet, 
considering  with  what  to  compare  the  swiftness  of  his  revenge, 


ac.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  81 

May  sweep  to  my  revenge. 

GHOST.  I  find  thee  apt ; 

And  duller  should* st  thou  be  than  the  fat  weed 
That  rots  itself  in  ease  on  Lethe  wharf,1 

chooses  two  of  the  most  rapid  things  in  nature,  the  ardency  of 
divine  and  human  passion,  in  an  enthusiast  and  a  lover. 

WARBURTON. 

The  comment  on  the  word  meditation  is  so  ingenious,  that  I 
hope  it  is  just.  JOHNSON. 

1  And  duller  should' st  thou  be  than  the  fat  'weed 

That  rots  itself  in  ease  on  Lethe  wharf,  ]  Shakspeare,  ap- 
parently through  ignorance,  makes  Roman  Catholicks  of  these 
Pagan  Danes  ;  and  here  gives  a  description  of  purgatory ;  but 
yet  mixes  it  with  the  Pagan  fable  of  Lethe's  wharf.  Whether 
he  did  it  to  insinuate  to  the  zealous  Protestants  of  his  time,  that 
the  Pagan  and  Popish  purgatory  stood  both  upon  the  same  footing 
of  credibility,  or  whether  it  was  by  the  same  kind  of  licentious  in- 
advertence that  Michael  Angelo  brought  Charon's  bark  into  his 
picture  of  the  Last  Judgment,  is  not  easy  to  decide.  WARBURTON. 

That  rots  itself  in  ease  &c.]  The  quarto  reads — That  roots 
itself.  Mr.  Pope  follows  it.  Otway  has  the  same  thought : 

" like  a  coarse  and  useless  dunghill  weed 

"  Fix'd  to  one  spot,  and  rot  just  as  I  grow." 
Mr.  Cowper  also,  in  his  version  of  the  seventh  Iliad,  v.  100, 
has  adopted  this  phrase  of  Shakspeare,  to  express — 
""H.asvo;  a»0»  EKOS~OL  a'jojp<o/, — " 
"  Rot  where  you  sit."  v.  112. 

In  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  Ep.  II.  64,  we  meet  with  a  similar 
comparison : 

"  Fix'd  like  a  plant  on  his  peculiar  spot, 
"  To  draw  nutrition,  propagate,  and  rot" 
The  superiority  of  the  reading  of  the  folio  is  to  me  apparent : 
to  be  in  a  crescent  state  (i.  e.  to  root  itself)  affords  an  idea  of 
activity;  to  rot  better  suits  with  the  dulness  and  inaction  to 
which  the  Ghost  refers.     Beaumont  and  Fletcher  have  a  thought 
somewhat  similar  in  The  Humorous  Lieutenant: 

"  This  dull  root  pluck'd  from  Lethe's  flood." 

STEEVENS. 

That  roots  itself  in  ease  &c.]  Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  The 
folio  reads — That  rols  itself  &c.  I  have  preferred  the  reading  of 
the  original  copy,  because  to  root  itself  is  a  natural  and  easy 
phrase,  but  "  to  rot  itself,"  not  English.  Indeed  in  general  the 

VOL.  XVIII.  G 


82  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Would'st  thou  not  stir  in  this.   Now,  Hamlet,  hear : 
'Tis  given  out,  that  sleeping  in  mine  orchard, 
A  serpent  stung  me ;  so  the  whole  ear  of  Denmark 
Is  by  a  forged  process  of  my  death 
Rankly  abus'd :  but  know,  thou  noble  youth, 
The  serpent  that  did  sting  thy  father's  life, 
Now  wears  his  crown. 

HAM.  O,  my  prophetick  soul !  my  uncle ! 

GHOST.  Ay,  that  incestuous,  that  adulterate  beast, 
With  witchcraft  of  his  wit,2  with  traitorous  gifts, 
(O  wicked  wit,  and  gifts,  that  have  the  power 
So  to  seduce !)  won  to  his  shameful  lust 
The  will  of  my  most  seeming  virtuous  queen  : 
O,  Hamlet,  what  a  falling-ofF  was  there  ! 
From  me,  whose  love  was  of  that  dignity, 
That  it  went  hand  in  hand  even  with  the  vow 
I  made  to  her  in  marriage  ;  and  to  decline 
Upon  a  wretch,  whose  natural  gifts  were  poor 
To  those  of  mine ! 
But  virtue,  as  it  never  will  be  mov'd, 

readings  of  the  original  copies,  when  not  corrupt,  ought,  in  my 
opinion,  not  to  be  departed  from,  without  very  strong  reason. 
That  roots  itself  in  ease,  means,  whose  sluggish  root  is  idly  ex- 
tended. 

The  modern  editors  read — Lethe's  wharf;  but  the  reading  of 
the  old  copy  is  right.  So,  in  Sir  Aston  Cockain's  Poems,  1658, 
p.  177: 

" fearing  these  great  actions  might  die, 

"  Neglected  cast  all  into  Lethe  lake."     MALONE. 

That  Shakspeare,  or  his  first  editors,  supposed — rots  itself,  to 
be  English,  is  evident  from  the  same  phrase  being  used  in  Antony 
and  Cleopatra: 

" lackeying  the  varying  tide, 

"  To  rot  itself  with  motion." 
See  Vol.  XVII.  p.  4-7.    STEEVENS. 

8  his  wit,]     The  old  copies  have  wits.     The  subsequent 

line  shows  that  it  was  a  misprint.    MALOXE. 


so.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  83 

Though;  lewdness  court  it  in  a  shape  of  heaven; 

So  lust,  though  to  a  radiant  angel  link'd, 

Will  sate  itself  in  a  celestial  bed, 

And  prey  on  garbage.3 

But,  soft !  methinks,  I  scent  the  morning  air  ; 

Brief  let  me  be : — Sleeping  within  mine  orchard,4 

My  custom  always  of  the  afternoon,5 

Upon  my  secure  hour  thy  uncle  stole, 

With  juice  of  cursed  hebenon  in  a  vial,6 


*  -  sate  itself  in  a  celestial  bed, 

And  prey  on  garbage.]     The  same  image  occurs  again  in 
Cymbeline: 

"  -  ravening  first 

"  The  lamb,  longs  after  for  the  garbage.''1     STEEVENS. 

The  same  sentiment  is  expressed  in  a  fragment  of  Euripides, 
Antiope,  v.  86,  edit.  Barnes  : 

"  Kopo;  SB  Ttcnvtuv,  no.}  yoip  IK 
"  AeKfeotg  kv  aCupypois  slSov 


s  TfXyptoes  H?,   a<rjj,evof 

TODD. 


*  -  mine  orchard,]     Orchard  for  garden.     So,  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet  : 

"  The  orchard  walls  are  high,  and  hard  to  climb." 

STEEVENS, 

Sleeping  - 


My  custom  always  of  the  afternoon,]  See  the  Paston  Let-' 
ters,  Vol.  III.  p.  282:  "  Written  in  my  sleeping  time,  at  after* 
noon"  &c.  See  note  on  this  passage.  STEEVENS. x- 

6  With  juice  of  cursed  hebenon  in  a  vial,"]  The  word  here 
used  was  more  probably  designed  by  a  metathesis,  either  of  the 
poet  or  transcriber,  for  henebon,  that  is,  henbane;  of  which  the 
most;  common  kind  (hyoscyamus  niger]  is  certainly  narcoticJct 
and  perhaps,  if  taken  in  a  considerable  quantity,  might  prove 
poisonous.  Galen  calls  it  cold  in  the  third  degree ;  by  which  in 
this,  as  well  as  opium,  he  seems  not  to  mean  an  actual  coldness, 
but  the  power  it  has  of  benumbing  the  faculties.  Dioscorides 
ascribes  to  it  the  property  of  producing  madness  ("votrr.-jocfjt.of 
pavjcw^f  ).  These  qualities  have  been  confirmed  by  several  cases 
related  in  modern  observations.  In  Wepfer  we  have  a  good  ac- 
count of  the  various  effects  of  this  root  upon  most  of  the  mem- 

e  2 


84  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

And  in  the  porches  of  mine  ears  did  pour 

The  leperous  distilment;7  whose  effect 

Holds  such  an  enmity  with  blood  of  man, 

That,  swift  as  quicksilver,  it  courses  through 

The  natural  gates  and  alleys  of  the  body ; 

And,  with  a  sudden  vigour,  it  doth  posset 

And  curd,  like  eager  droppings  into  milk, 

The  thin  and  wholesome  blood  :  so  did  it  mine  ; 

And  a  most  instant  tetter  bark'd  about, 

Most  lazar-like,  with  vile  and  loathsome  crust, 

All  my  smooth  body. 

Thus  was  I,  sleeping,  by  a  brother's  hand, 

Of  life,  of  crown,  of  queen,  at  once  despatched:8 

Cut  off  even  in  the  blossoms  of  my  sin,9 


bers  of  a  convent  in  Germany,  who  eat  of  it  for  supper  by  mis- 
take, mixed  with  succory  ; — heat  in  the  throat,  giddiness,  dim- 
ness of  sight,  and  delirium.  Cicut.  Aquatic,  c.  xviii.  GREY. 

So,  in  Drayton's  Barons'  Wars,  p.  51 : 

"  The  pois'ning  henbane,  and  the  mandrake  drad." 
Again,  in  the  Philosopher's  4th  Satire  of  Mars,  by  Robert  Anton, 
1616: 

"  The  poison'd  henbane,  whose  cold  juice  doth  kill." 
In  Marlowe's  Jew  of  Malta,  1633,  the  word  is  written  in  a 
different  manner : 

" the  blood  of  Hydra,  Lerna's  bane, 

"  The  juice  of  hebon,  and  Cocytus*  breath." 

STEEVENS. 

7  The  leperous  distilment;]  So,  in  Painter's  Palace  of  Plea- 
sure, Vol.  II.  p.  142 :  "  —  which  being  once  possessed,  never 
leaveth  the  patient  till  it  hath  enfeebled  his  state,  like  the  qualitie 
of  poison  distilling  through  the  veins  even  to  the  heart." 

MA  LONE. 

Surely,  the  leperous  distilment  signifies  the  water  distilled 
from  henbane,  that  subsequently  occasioned  leprosy. 

STEEVENS. 

"  at  once  despatch'd:]  Despatched ',  for  bereft. 

WARBURTON. 

9  Cut  off" even  in  the  blossoms  ofniu  sin,  &c.]  The  very  words 
of  this  part  of  the  speech  are  taken  (as  I  have  been  informed  by 


sc.  r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  85 

UnhousePd,  disappointed,  unanel'd;1 

No  reckoning  made,  but  sent  to  my  account 

a  gentleman  of  undoubted  veracity)  from  an  old  Legend  of Saint s, 
where  a  man,  who  was  accidentally  drowned,  is  introduced  as 
making  the  same  complaint.  STEEVENS. 

1  Unhpusel'd,  disappointed,  unanel'd;~\  Unhousel'd  is  without 
having  received  the  sacrament. 

Disappointed,  as  Dr.  Johnson  observes,  "  is  the  same  as  unap- 
pointed,  and  may  be  properly  explained  unprepared.  A  man 
well  furnished  with  things  necessary  for  an  enterprise,  was  said 
to  be  well  appointed." 

This  explanation  of  disappointed  may  be  countenanced  by  a 
quotation  of  Mr.  Upton's  from  Measure  for  Measure  : 

"  Therefore  your  best  appointment  make  with  speed." 
Isabella,  as  Mr.  Malone  remarks,  is  the  speaker,  and  her  brother, 
who  was  condemned  to  die,  is  the  person  addressed. 

Unanel'd  is  without  extreme  unction. 

I  shall  now  subjoin  as  many  notes  as  are  necessary  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  first  and  third  of  these  explanations.  I  administer 
the  bark  only,  not  supposing  any  reader  will  be  found  who  is 
desirous  to  swallow  the  whole  tree. 

In  the  Textus  Roffensis  we  meet  with  two  of  these  words — 
"  The  monks  offering  themselves  to  perform  all  priestly  func- 
tions of  houseling,  and  aveyling."  Aveyling  is  misprinted  for 
aneyling.  STEEVENS. 

See  Mori  d*  Arthur,  p.  iii.  c.  175  :  "  So  when  he  was  houseled 
and  aneled,  and  had  all  that  a  Christian  man  ought  to  have,"  &c. 

TYRWHITT. 

The  subsequent  extract  from  a  very  scarce  and  curious  copy  of 
Fabian's  Chronicle,  printed  by  Pynson,  1516,  seems  to  remove 
every  possibility  of  doubt  concerning  the  true  signification  of  the 
words  unhou,sel'd  and  unanei'd.  The  historian,  speaking  of 
Pope  Innocent's  having  laid  the  whole  kingdom  of  England  under 
an  interdict,  has  these  words:  "  Of  the  manner  of  this  inter- 
diccion  of  this  lande  have  I  seen  dyverse  opynyons,  as  some  ther 
be  that  saye  that  the  lande  was  interdyted  thorwly  and  the 
churchis  and  housys  of  relygyon  closyd,  that  no  where  was  used 
mase,  nor  dyvyne  servyce,  by  whiche  reason  none  of  the  VII  sa- 
cramentis  all  this  terme  should  be  mynystred  or  occupyed,  nor 
chyld  crystened,  nor  man  confessed  nor  marryed;  but  it  was  not 
so  strayght.  For  there  were  dyverse  placys  in  Englond,  which 
were  occupyed  with  dyvyne  servyce  all  that  season  by  lycence 
purchased  than  orbefore,also  chyldrenwere  chrystenyd  throughe 


86  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

With  all  my  imperfections  on  my  head : 
O,  horrible !  O,  horrible !  most  horrible  I2 
If  thou  hast  nature  in  thee,  bear  it  not ; 
Let  not  the  royal  bed  of  Denmark  be 
A  couch  for  luxury3  and  damned  incest. 
But,  howsoever  thou  pursu'st  this  act, 
Taint  not  thy  mind,  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive 
Against  thy  mother  aught ;  leave  her  to  heaven, 
And  to  those  thorns  that  in  her  bosom  lodge, 
To  prick  and  sting  her.    Fare  thee  well  at  once ! 
The  glow-worm  shows  the  matin  to  be  near, 


all  the  lande  and  men  houselyd  and  anelyd."  Fol.  14-,  Septima 
Pars  Johannis. 

The  Anglo-Saxon  noun-substantives  husel,  (the  eucharist) 
and  ele  (oil)  are  plainly  the  roots  of  these  last-quoted  compound 
adjectives. — For  the  meaning  of  the  affix  an  to  the  last,  I  quote 
Spelman's  Gloss,  in  loco :  "  Quin  et  dictionibus  (an)  adjungitur, 
siquidem  vel  majoris  notaiionis  gratia,  vel  ad  singulare  aliquid, 
vcl  unicum  demonstrandum."  Hence  anelyd  should  seem  to 
signify  oiled  or  anointed  by  way  of  eminence,  i.  e.  having  re- 
ceived extreme  unction.  For  the  confirmation  of  the  sense  given 
here,  there  is  the  strongest  internal  evidence  in  the  passage.  The 
historian  is  speaking  of  the  VII  sacraments,  and  he  expressly 
names  five  of  them,  viz.  baptism,  marriage,  auricular  confession, 
the  eucharist,  and  extreme  unction. 

The  antiquary  is  desired  to  consult  the  edition  of  Fabian, 
printed  by  Pynson,  1516,  because  there  are  others,  and  I  remem- 
ber to  have  seen  one  in  the  Bodleian  Library  at  Oxford,  with  a 
continuation  to  the  end  of  Queen  Mary,  London,  1559,  in 
which  the  language  is  much  modernized.  BRAND. 

*  O,  horrible!  0,  horrible!  most  horrible  /]  It  was  ingeniously 
hinted  to  me  by  a  very  learned  lady,  that  this  line  seems  to  be- 
long to  Hamlet,  in  whose  mouth  it  is  a  proper  and  natural  ex- 
clamation ;  and  who,  according  to  the  practice  of  the  stage, 
may  be  supposed  to  interrupt  so  long  a  speech.  JOHNSON. 

3  A  couch  for  luxury — ]  i.  e.  for  Icwdness.     So,  in  K.  Lear: 
"  To't  luxury,  pell-mell,  for  I  lack  soldiers." 

STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  XV.  p.  436  and  482.    MALONE. 


«7.  r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  87 

And  'gins  to  pale  his  uneffectual  fire  :4 

Adieu,  adieu,  adieu !  remember  me.5  [Exit. 

HAM.  O  all  you  host  of  heaven !  O  earth !  What 

else  ? 
And  shall  I  couple  hell? — O  fye!6 — Hold,  hold,  my 

heart  j 

And  you,  my  sinews,  grow  not  instant  old, 
But  bear  me  stiffly  up ! — Remember  thee  ? 
Ay,  thou  poor  ghost,  while  memory  holds  a  seat 
In  this  distracted  globe.7     Remember  thee  ? 


4  pale  Ms  uneffectual  Jlre :]  i.  e.  shining  without  heat. 

WARBUKTON". 

To  pale  is  a  verb  used  by  Lady  Elizabeth  Carew,  in  her 
Tragedy  of  Mariam,  1613: 

" Death  can  pale  as  well 

"  A  cheek  of  roses,  as  a  cheek  less  bright." 
Again,  in  Urry's  Chaucer,  p.  368 :  "  The  sterre  paleth  her 
white  cheres  by  the  flambes  of  the  sonne,"  &c. 

Uneffectual  Jlre,  I  believe,  rather  means,  fire  that  is  no  longer 
seen  when  the  light  of  morning  approaches.  So,  in  Pericles, 
Prince  of  Tyre,  1609: 

" like  a  glow-ivorm, — 

"  The  which  hath  tire  in  darkness,  none  in  light." 

STEEVENS. 


Adieu,  adieu,  adieu  !  &c.]     The  folio  reads — 

Adieu,  adieu,  Hamlet :  remember  me.     STEEVENS. 


6  Of  ye!']     These  words  (which  hurt  the  measure,  and 

from  that  circumstance,  and  their  almost  ludicrous  turn,  may  be 
suspected  as  an  interpolation, )  are  found  only  in  the  two  earliest 
quartos. 

"  Ofye  '"  however,  might  have  been  the  marginal  reprehen- 
sion of  some  scrupulous  reader,  to  whom  the  MS.  had  been  com- 
municated before  it  found  its  way  to  the  press.  STEEVENS. 

7  Remember  thee  ? 

Ay,  thou  poor  ghost,  while  memory  holds  a  seat 

In  this  distracted  globe.]    So,  in  our  poet's  122d  Sonnet: 

"  Which  shall  above  that  idle  rank  remain, 

"  Beyond  all  dates,  even  to  eternity ; 

"  Or  at  the  least,  so  long  as  brain  and  heart 

"  Have  faculty  by  nature  to  subsist."     MALONE. 


8S  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

Yea,  from  the  table  of  my  memory8 

I'll  wipe  away  all  trivial  fond  records, 

All  saws  of  books,  all  forms,  all  pressures  past, 

That  youth  and  observation  copied  there ; 

And  thy  commandment  all  alone  shall  live 

Within  the  book  and  volume  of  my  brain, 

Unmix'd  with  baser  matter :  yes,  by  heaven. 

O  most  pernicious  woman  ! 

O  villain,  villain,  smiling,  damned  villain ! 

My  tables,- — meet  it  is,  I  set  it  down,9 


this  distracted  globe. ~\     i.  e.  in  this  head  confused  with 

thought.     STEEVEKS. 

8  Yea,  from  the  table  of  my  memory — ]     This  expression  is 
used  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney  in  his  Defence  ofPoesie.     MALONE. 

from  the  table  of  my  memory  I'll  wipe  away  &c.~]     This 

phrase  will  remind  the  reader  of  Chaeria's  exclamation  in  the 
Eunuch  of  Terence: — ";O  faciem  pulchram!  deleo  omnes  de- 
hinc  ex  animo  mulieres."  STEEVENS. 

9  My  tables, — meet  it  is,  I  set  it  down,']  This  is  a  ridicule  on 
the  practice  of  the  time.     Hall  says,  in  his  character  of  the 
Hypocrite,  "  He  will  ever  sit  where  he  may  be  scene  best,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  sermon  pulles  out  his  tables  in  haste,  as  if  he 
feared  to  loose  that  note,"  &c.     FARMER. 

No  ridicule  on  the  practice  of  the  time  could  with  propriety 
be  introduced  on  this  occasion.  Hamlet  avails  himself  of  the 
same  caution  observed  by  the  Doctor  in  the  fifth  act  of  Macbeth  : 
"  I  will  set  down  whatever  comes  from  her,  to  satisfy  my  re- 
membrance the  more  strongly." 

Dr.  Farmer's  remark,  however,  as  to  the  frequent  use  of 
table-books,  may  be  supported  by  many  instances.     So,  in  the 
Induction  to  The  Malcontent,  1604:  "  I  tell  you  I  am  one  that 
hath  seen  this  play  often,  and  give  them  intelligence  for  their 
action  :  I  have  most  of  the  jests  of  it  here  in  my  table-book." 
Again,  in  Love's  Sacrifice,  1633: 
"  You  are  one  loves  courtship : 

"  You  had  some  change  of  words ;  'twere  no  lost  labour 
"  To  stuff  your  table-books." 

Again,  in  Antonio's  Revenge,  1602:  Balurdo  draws  out  his 
writing-tables  and  writes — 

"  Retort  and  obtuse,  good  words,  very  good  words." 


sc.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  89 

That  one  may  smile,  and  smile,  and  be  a  villain ; 
At  least,  I  am  sure,  it  may  be  so  in  Denmark : 

[  Writing. 

So,  uncle,  there  you  are.     Now  to  my  word  j l 
It  is,  Adieu,  adieu  !  remember  me. 
I  have  sworn't. 

HOR.  \_Wiiliin.~\  My  lord,  my  lord, 

MAR.  \_Within.~\  Lord  Hamlet, 

HOR.  [_Within.~]  Heaven  secure  him! 

HAM.  So  be  it ! 

MAR.  \_Wtthin.~\  Illo,  ho,  ho,  my  lord! 
HAM.  Hillo,2  ho,  ho,  boy !  come,  bird,  come.3 

Again,  in  Every  Woman  in  her  Humour,  1609  : 

"  Let  your  tables  befriend  your  memory ;  write,"  &c. 

SlEEVENS. 

See  also  The  Second  Part  of  Henry  IV : 

"  And  therefore  will  he  wipe  his  tables  clean, 
"  And  keep  no  tell-tale  to  his  memory" 

York  is  here  speaking  of  the  King.  Table-books  in  the  time  of 
our  author  appear  to  have  been  used  by  all  ranks  of  people.  In 
the  church  they  were  filled  with  short  notes  of  the  sermon,  and 
at  the  theatre  with  the  sparkling  sentences  of  the  play. 

MALONE. 

1  Not*)  to  my  iKord;~\     Hamlet  alludes  to  the  watch-word 

given  every  day  in  military  service,  which  at  this  time  he  says 
is,  Adieu,  adieu  !  remember  me.  So,  in  The  Devil's  Charter,  a 
tragedy,  1607 : 

"  Now  to  my  watch-ivord ."     STEEVENS. 

8  Hillo,~]  This  exclamation  is  of  French  origin.  So,  in 
the  Venerie  de  Jacques  Fouilloux,  1635,  4to.  p.  12:  "  Ty  a 
hillaut,"  &c.  See  Vol.  V.  p.  296.  STEEVENS. 

—  come,  bird,  come.']  This  is  the  call  which  falconers 
use  to  their  hawk  in  the  air,  when  they  would  have  him  come 
down  to  them.  HANMER. 

This  expression  is  used  in  Mar ston' s  Dutch -Court cxan,  and  by 
many  others  among  the  old  dramatick  writer^. 

It  appears  from  all  these  passages,  that  it  was.lhe  falconer's 
call,  as  Sir  T.  Hanmer  has  observed. 


HAMLET,  ACT  i. 


Enter  HORATIO  and  MARCELLUS. 

MAR.  How  is't,  my  noble  lord  ? 
HOR.  What  news,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  O,  wonderful ! 

HOR.  Good  my  lord,  tell  it. 

HAM.  No ; 

You  will  reveal  it. 

HOR.  Not  I,  my  lord,  by  heaven. 

MAR.  Nor  I,  my  lord. 

HAM.  How  say  you  then ;  would  heart  of  man 

once  think  it  ? — 
But  you'll  be  secret, 

HOR.  MAR.  .  Ay,  by  heaven,  my  lord. 

HAM.  There's  ne'er  a  villain,  dwelling  in  all 

Denmark,  - 
But  he's  an  arrant  knave. 

HOR.  There  needs  no  ghost,  my  lord,  come  from 

the  grave, 
To  tell  us  this. 

HAM.  Why,  right ;  you  are  in  the  right ; 

And  so,  without  more  circumstance  at  all, 
I  hold  it  fit,  that  we  shake  hands,  and  part : 
You,  as  your  business,  and  desire,  shall  point  you ; — 
For  every  man  hath  business,  and  desire, 
Such  as  it  is, — and,  for  my  own  poor  part, 
Look  you,  I  will  go  pray. 

Again,  in  Tyro1  s  Roaring  Mcggc,  planted  against  the  Walls  of 
Melancholy,  &c.  4to.  1598  : 

"  Y et,  ere  I  iournie,  He  go  see  the  kyte : 
"  Come,  come  bird,  come.-  pox  on  you,  can  you  mute  ?" 

STEEVENS.V 


ac.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  91 

HOR.  These  are  but  wild  and  whirling  words,  my 
lord. 

HAM.  I  am  sorry  they  offend  you,  heartily ;  yes, 
'Faith,  heartily. 

HOR.  There's  no  offence,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Yes,  by  Saint  Patrick,4  but  there  is,  Ho- 

o;  '    ratio, 

And  much  offence  too.  Touching  this  vision  here, — 
It  is  an  honest  ghost,  that  let  me  tell  you ; 
For  your  desire  to  know  what  is  between  us, 
O'er-master  it  as  you  may.   And  now,  good  friends, 
As  you  are  friends,  scholars,  and  soldiers, 
Give  me  one  poor  request. 

HOR.  What  is't,  my  lord  ? 

We  will. 

HAM.  Never  make  known  what  you  have  seen 
to-night. 

HOR.  MAR.  My  lord,  we  will  not. 

HAM.  Nay,  but  swear  Jt. 

HOR.  In  faith, 

My  lord,  not  I. 

MAR.  Nor  I,  my  lord,  in  faith. 

HAM.  Upon  my  sword. 

MAR.  We  have  sworn,  my  lord,  already. 

4  6y  Saint  Patrick,]     How  the  poet  comes  to  make 

Hamlet  swear  by  St.  Patrick,  I  know  not.  However,  at  this 
time  all  the  whole  northern  world  had  their  learning  from 
Ireland ;  to  which  place  it  had  retired,  and  there  flourished  under 
the  auspices  of  this  saint.  But  it  was,  I  suppose,  only  said  at 
random ;  for  he  makes  Hamlet  a  student  at  Wittenberg. 

WARBUKTON. 

Dean  Swift's  "  Verses  on  the  sudden  drying-up  of  St.  Patrick's 
Well,  1726,"  contain  many  learned  allusions  to  the  early  culti- 
vation of  literature  in  Ireland.  NICHOLS. 


92  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

HAM.  Indeed,  upon  my  sword,  indeed. 
GHOST.  [_Eeneath.~]  Swear. 

HAM.  Ha,  ha,  boy !  say'st  thou  so  ?  art  thou  there, 

true-penny  ?5 

Come  on, — you  hear  this  fellow  in  the  cellarage, — 
Consent  to  swear. 

HOR.  Propose  the  oath,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Never  to  speak  of  this  that  you  have  seen, 
Swear  by  my  sword.6 

*  true-penny  ?~\    This  word,  as  well  as  some  of  Hamlet's 

former  exclamations,  we  find  in  The  Malcontent,  1604- : 

"  Illo,  ho,  ho,  ho ;  art  thou  there  old  True-penny  ?" 

STEF.VENS. 

6  Swear  by  my  sword.]  Here  the  poet  has  preserved  the 
manners  of  the  ancient  Danes,  with  whom  it  was  religion  to 
swear  upon  their  swords.  See  Barkholinus,  De  causis  contempt, 
mort.  apud  Dan.  WARBURTON. 

I  was  once  inclinable  to  this  opinion,  which  is  likewise  well 
defended  by  Mr.  Upton  ;  bat  Mr.  Garrick  produced  me  a  pas- 
sage, I  think,  in  Brantome,  from  which  it  appeared  that  it  was 
common  to  swear  upon  the  sword,  that  is,  upon  the  cross,  which 
the  old  swords  always  had  upon  the  hilt.  JOHNSON. 

Shakspeare,  it  is  more  than  probable,  knew  nothing  of  the 
ancient  Danes,  or  their  manners.  Every  extract  from  Dr. 
Farmer's  pamphlet  must  prove  as  instructive  to  the  reader  as 
the  following : 

"  In  the  Passus  Primus  of  Pierce  Plowman, 
«  David  in  his  daies  dubbed  knightes, 
'  And  did  them  swere  on  her  sword  to  serve  truth  ever.' 
*'  And  in  Hieronymo,  the  common  butt  of  our  author,  and 
the  wits  of  the  time,  says  Lorenzo  to  Pedringano : 

*  Swear  on  this  cross,  that  what  thou  say'st  is  true : 
'  But  if  I  prove  thee  perjur'd  and  unjust, 

'  This  very  sword,  whereon  thou  took'st  thine  oath, 

*  Shall  be  a  worker  of  thy  tragedy." 

To  the  authorities  produced  by  Dr.  Farmer,  the  following  may 
be  added  from  Holinshed,  p.  664' :  "  Warwick  kissed  the  cross 
of  King  Edward's  sword,  as  it  were  a  vow  to  his  promise." 

Again,  p.  1038,  it  is  said — "  that  Warwick  drew  out  his 
sword,  which  other  of  the  honourable  and  worshipful  that  were 


K.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  95 

GHOST.  \_Beneath.~]  Swear. 

HAM.   Hie    fy    ubique?    then   we'll    shift    our 

ground : — 

Come  hither,  gentlemen, 
And  lay  your  hands  again  upon  my  sword  : 
Swear  by  my  sword, 
Never  to  speak  of  this  that  you  have  heard. 

GHOST.  [_Beneatli.~]  Swear  by  his  sword. 

HAM.  Well  said,  old  mole !    can'st  work  i'the 
earth  so  fast  ? 


then  present  likewise  did,  when  he  commanded  that  each  one 
should  kiss  other's  sword,  according  to  an  ancient  custom 
amongst  men  of  war  in  time  of  great  danger  ;  and  herewith  they 
made  a  solemn  vow."  &c. 

Again,  in  Decker's  comedy  of  Old  Fortunatus,  1600: 

"  He  has  sworn  to  me  on  the  cross  of  his  pure  Toledo." 

Again,  in  his  Satiromastix :  "  By  the  cross  of  this  sword  and 
dagger,  captain,  you  shall  take  it." 

In  the  soliloquy  of  Roland  addressed  to  his  sword,  the  cross  on 

it  is  not  forgotten :  " capulo  eburneo  candidissime,  cruce 

aurea  splendidissime,"  £c.  Turpini  Hist,  de  Gestis  Caroli  Mag. 
cap.  22. 

Again,  in  an  ancient  MS.  of  which  some  account  is  given  in 
a  note  on  the  first  scene  of  the  first  Act  of  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,  the  oath  taken  by  a  master  of  defence  when  his  degree 
was  conferred  on  him,  is  preserved,  and  runs  as  follows  :  "  First 
you  shall  sweare  (so  help  you  God  and  halidome,  and  by  all  the 
christendome  which  God  gave  you  at  the  fount-stone,  and  by  the 
crosse  of  this  sivord  "which  doth  represent  unto  you  the  crosse  "which 
our  Saviour  suffered  his  most  payneful  deathe  upon,)  that  you 
shall  upholde,  maynteyne,  and  kepe  to  your  power  all  soch  arti- 
cles as  shall  be  heare  declared  unto  you,  and  receve  in  the  pre- 
sence of  me  your  maister,  and  these  the  rest  of  the  maisters  my 
brethren  heare  with  me  at  this  tyme."  STEEVENS. 

Spenser  observes  that  the  Irish  in  his  time  used  commonly  to 
swear  by  their  sword.  See  his  View  of  the  State  of  Ireland, 
written  in  1596.  This  custom,  indeed,  is  of  the  highest  anti- 
quity ;  having  prevailed,  as  we  team  from  Lucian,  among  the 
Scythians.  MALONE. 


94  HAMLET,  ACT  /. 

A  worthy  pioneer! — Once  more  remove,  good 
friends. 

HOR.  O  day  and  night,  but  this  is  wondrous 
strange ! 

HAM.  And  therefore  as  a  stranger  give  it  wel- 
come.7 

There  are  more  things  in  heaven  andearth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy. 

But  come ; 

Here,  as  before,  never,  so  help  you  mercy ! 

How  strange  or  odd  soe'er  I  bear  myself, 

As  I,  perchance,  hereafter  shall  think  meet 

To  put  an  antick  disposition  on, — 

That  you,  at  such  times  seeing  me,  never  shall, 

"With  arms  encumber*  d  thus,  or  this  head-shake, 

Or  by  pronouncing  of  some  doubtful  phrase, 

As,  Well,  well,  we  know; — or,  We  could,  an  if  we 

would; — or,  If  we  list  to  speak;— or,  There  be,  an 

if  they  might;8 — 

Or  such  ambiguous  giving  out,  to  note 

That  you  know  aught  of  me  :9 — This  do  you  swear,1 


7  And  therefore  as  a  stranger  give  it  welcome.']  i.  e.  receive  it 
to  yourself;  take  it  under  your  own  roof;  as  much  as  to  say, 
Keep  it  secret.  Alluding  to  the  laws  of  hospitality. 

WARBUHTOX. 

Warburton  refines  too  much  on  this  passage.  Hamlet  means 
merely  to.  request  that  they  would  seem  not  to  know  it — to  be 
unacquainted  with  it.  M.  MASON. 

9  an  if  they  might ;"]  Thus  the  quarto.     The  folio  reads 

— an  if  there  might.     MALONE. 

9  Or  such  ambiguous  giving  out,  to  note 

That  you  kno'vo  aught  ofmc:~\  The  construction  is  irregular 
and  elliptical.  Swear  as  before,  savs  Hamlet,  that  you  never 
shall  by  folded  arms  or  shaking  of  your  head  intimate  that  a 
secret  is  lodged  in  your  breasts;  and  by  no  ambiguous  phrases 
denote  that  you  know  aught  of  me. 

Shakspeare  has  in  many  other  places  begun  to  construct  a 


so.  r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  95 

So  grace  and  mercy  at  your  most  need  help  you ! 
GHOST.  \_Beneath.~]  Swear. 
HAM.  Rest,  rest,  perturbed  spirit ! 2  So,  gentle- 
men, 

sentence  in  one  form,  and  ended  it  in  another.  So,  in  All's  ivell 
that  ends  'well: ' "  I  .would  the  cutting  of  my  garments  would 
serve  the  turn,  or  the  baring  of  my  beard  ;  and  to  say  it  was  in 
stratagem." 

Again,  in  the  same  play :  "  No  more  of  this,  Helena ; — lest 
it  be  rather  thought  you  affect  a  sorrow,  than  to  have:"  where 
he  ought  to  have  written  than  that  you  have :  or,  lest  you  rather 
be  thought  to  affect  a  sorrow,  than  to  have. 
Again,  ibidem: 

"  I  bade  her — if  her  fortunes  ever  stood 
".Necessitied  to  help,  that  by  this  token 
"  I  would  relieve  her." 
Again,  in  The  Tempest: 

"  I  have  with  such  provision  in  mine  art 
"  So  safely  order'd,  that  there  is  no  soul—~ 
"  No,  not  so  much  perdition  as  an  hair 
"  Betid  to  any  creature  in  the  vessel." 
See  Vol.  IV.  p.  13,  n.  6 ;  and  Vol.  IX.  p.  268,  n.  9 ;  and 
p.  3D6,  n.  4. 

Having  used  the  word  never  in  the  preceding  part  of  the  sen- 
tence, [that  you  never  shall — ]  the  poet  considered  the  negative 
implied  in  what  follows ;  and  hence  he  wrote — "  or — to  note," 
instead  of  nor.  MALONE. 

1  This  do  you  sivear,  &c.]    The  folio  reads, — this  not  ta 

do,  swear,  Sfc.    STEEVENS. 

Swear  is  used  here,  as  in  many  other  places,  as  a  dissyllable. 

MALONE. 

Here  again  my  untutored  ears'reyolt  from  a  new  dissyllable ; 
nor  have  I  scrupled,  like  my  predecessors,  to  supply  the  pronoun 
— you,  which  must  accidentally  have  dropped  out  of  a  line  that 
is  imperfect  without  it.  STEEVENS. 

s  Rest,  rest,  perturbed  spirit /]  The  skill  displayed  in  Shak- 
speare's  management  of  his  Ghost,  is  too  considerable  to  be 
overlooked.  He  has  rivetted  our  attention  to  it  by  a  succession 
of  forcible  circumstances : — by  the  previous  report  of  the  terrified 
centinels, — by  the  solemnity  of  the  hour  at  which  the  phantom 
walks, — by  its  martial  stride  and  discriminating  armour,  visible 
only  per  incertam  lunam,  by  the  glimpses  of  the  moon, — by  its 
long  taciturnity, — by  its  preparation  to  speak,  when  interrupted 


96  HAMLET,  ACT  i. 

With  all  my  love  I  do  commend  me  to  you : 

And  what  so  poor  a  man  as  Hamlet  is 

May  do,  to  express  his  love  and  friending  to  you, 

God  willing,  shall  not  lack.    Let  us  go  in  together ; 

And  still  your  fingers  on  your  lips,  I  pray. 

The  time  is  out  of  joint ; — O  cursed  spite  ! 

That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right ! 

Nay,  come,  let's  go  together.  \_Exeunt. 


by  the  morning  cock, — by  its  mysterious  reserve  throughout  its 
first  scene  with  Hamlet, — by  his  resolute  departure  with  it,  and 
the  subsequent  anxiety  of  his  attendants, — by  its  conducting  him 
to  a  solitary  angle  of  the  platform, — by  its  voice  from  beneath 
the  earth, — and  by  its  unexpected  burst  on  us  in  the  closet. 

Hamlet's  late  interview  with  the  spectre,  must  in  particular  be 
regarded  as  a  stroke  of  dramatick  artifice.  The  phantom  might 
have  told  his  story  in  the  presence  of  the  Officers  and  Horatio, 
and  yet  have  rendered  itself  as  inaudible  to  them,  as  afterwards 
to  the  Queen.  But  suspense  was  our  poet's  object ;  and  never 
was  it  more  effectually  created,  than  in  the  present  instance.  Six 
tiroes  has  the  royal  semblance  appeared,  but  till  now  has  been 
withheld  from  speaking.  For  this  event  we  have  waited  with 
impatient  curiosity,  unaccompanied  by  lassitude,  or  remitted 
attention. 

The  Ghost  in  this  tragedy,  is  allowed  to  be  the  genuine  product 
of  Shakspeare's  strong  imagination.  When  he  afterwards  avails 
himself  of  traditional  phantoms,  as  in  Julius  Ccesar,  and  King 
Richard  III.  they  are  but  inefficacious  pageants ;  nay,  the  appa- 
rition of  Banquo  is  a  mute  exhibitor.  Perhaps  our  poet  despaired 
to  equal  the  vigour  of  his  early  conceptions  on  the  subject  of 
preter-natural  beings,  and  therefore  allotted  them  no  further 
eminence  in  his  dramas ;  or  was  unwilling  to  diminish  the  power 
of  his  principal  shade,  by  an  injudicious  repetition  of  congenial 
images.  STEEVENS. 

The  verb  perturb  is  used  by  Holinshed,  and  by  Bacon  in  his 
Essay  on  Superstition :  "  —  therefore  atheism  did  never  perturb 
states."  M  ALONE. 


ACT  ii.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  97 

ACT  II.     SCENE. I. 

A  Room  in  Polonius's  House. 
Enter  POLONIUS  and  REYNALDO." 

POL.  Give  him  this  money,  and  these  notes,  Rey- 
naldo. 

REY.  I  will,  my  lord. 

POL.  You  shall  do  marvellous  wisely,  good  Rey- 

naldo, 

Before  you  visit  him,  to  make  inquiry 
Of  his  behaviour. 

REY.  My  lord,  I  did  intend  it. 

POL.  Marry,  well  said :  very  well  said.4     Look 

you,  sir, 

Inquire  me  first  what  Danskers5  are  in  Paris ; 
And  how,  and  who,  what  means,  and  where  they 

keep, 

What  company,  at  what  expence  ;  and  finding, 
By  this  encompassment  and  drift  of  question, 
That  they  do  know  my  son,  come  you  more  nearer 

3  Enter  Polonius  and  Reynaldo.]   The  quartos  read — Enter  old 
Polonius  -with  his  man  or  two.     STEEVENS. 

4 txell  said:  very  well  said.'}     Thus  also,  the  weak  and 

tedious  Shallow  says  to  Bardolph,  in  The  Second  Part  of  King 
Henry  IV.  Act  III.  sc.  ii :  "  It  is  well  said,  sir  ;  and  it  is  well  said 
indeed  too."  STEEVENS. 

•Danskers — ]     Danskc  (in  Warner's  Albion's  England] 


is  the  ancient  name  of  Denmark.     STEEVENS. 
VOL.  XVIII.  H 


98  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

Than  your  particular  demands  will  touch  it : 6 
Take  you,  as 'twere,  some  distant  knowledge  of  him ; 
As  thus, — /  know  his  father,  and  his  friends, 
And,  in  part,  him ; — Do  you  mark  this,  Reynaldo  ? 
REY.  Ay,  very  well,  my  lord. 

POL.  And,  in  part,  him  ; — but,  you  may  say,  not 

•well: 

But,  if't  be  he  I  mean,  he's  very  mid; 
Addicted  so  and  so ; — and  there  put  on  him 
What  forgeries  you  please ;  marry,  none  so  rank 
As  may  dishonour  him  ;  take  heed  of  that ; 
But,  sir,  such  wanton,  wild,  and  usual  slips, 
As  are  companions  noted  and  most  known 
To  youth  and  liberty. 

REY.  As  gaming,  my  lord. 

POL.  Ay,  or  drinking,  fencing,  swearing,7  quar- 
relling, 
Drabbing : — You  may  go  so  far. 


0 come  you  more  nearer 

Than  your  particular  demands  will  touch  it:"]     The  late  edi- 
tions read,  ana  point,  thus : 

come  you  more  nearer; 

Then  your  particular  demands  will  touch  it: 
Throughout  the  old  copies  the  word  which  we  now  write— 
than,  is  constantly  written — then.  I  have  therefore  printed— 
than,  which  the  context  seems  to  me  to  require,  though  the  old 
copies  have  then.  There  is  no  point  after  the  word  nearer, 
either  in  the  original  quarto,  1604,  or  the  folio.  MALONE. 

7  -—-drinking,  fencing,  shearing,']  I  suppose,  by  fencing  is 
meant  a  too  diligent  frequentation  of  the  fencing-school,  n  re- 
sort of  violent  and  lawless  young  men.  JOHNSON. 

Fencing,  I  suppose,  means  piquing  himself  on  his  skill  in  the 
Use  of  the  sword,  and  quarrelling  and  brawling,  in  consequence 
of  that  skill.  "  The  cunning  of  fencers,  says  Gosson,  in  his 
Schoole  of  Abuse,  1579,  is  now  applied  to  quarreling:  they  thinke 
themselves  no  men,  if  for  stirring  of  a  straw,  they  prove  not 
their  valure  uppon  some  bodies  fleshe."  MALONE. 


so.-  r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  99 

REY.  My  lord,  that  would  dishonour  him. 

POL.  'Faith,  no ;  as  you  may  season  it  in  the 

charge.8 

You  must  not  put  another  scandal  on  him,9 
That  he  is  open  to  incontinency ; 
That's  not  my  meaning : '  but  breathe  his  faults  so 

quaintly, 

That  they  may  seem  the  taints  of  liberty : 
The  flash  and  out-break  of  a  fiery  mind  j 
A  savageness2  in  unreclaimed  blood, 
Of  general  assault.3 

REY.  But,  my  good  lord, 

POL.  Wherefore  should  you  do  this  ? 

REY.  Ay,  my  lord, 

I  would  know  that. 

POL.  Marry,  sir,  here's  my  drift  j 

And,  I  believe,  it  is  a  fetch  of  warrant:4 
You  laying  these  slight  sullies  on  my  son, 
As  'twere  a  thing  a  little  soil'd  i'the  working, 
Mark  you, 

8  'Faith,  no ;  as  you  may  season  it  &c.]      The  quarto  reads— 
Faith,  as  you  may  season  it  in  the  charge.     MALONE. 

-another  scandal  on  him,~\     Thus  the  old  editions.    Mr. 


Theobald  reads — an  utter.     JOHNSON. 

another  scandal — ]  i.  e.  a  very  different  and  more  scan- 
dalous failing,  namely  habitual  incontinency.  Mr.  Theobald 
in  his  Shakspeare  Restored  proposed  to  read — an  utter  scandal  on 
him ;  but  did  not  admit  the  emendation  into  his  edition. 

MALONE. 

1  That's  not  my  meaning:']  That  is  not  what  I  mean  when  I 
permit  you  to  accuse  him  of  drabbing.  M.  MASON. 

*  A  savageness — ]     Savageness,  for  wUdness.     WARBURTON. 

3  Of  general  assault."]  i.  e.  such  as  youth  in  general  is  liable  to. 

WARBURTON. 

*  And,  I  believe,  it  is  a  fetch  of  warrant :]    So  the  folio.     The 
quarto  reads — a  fetch  of  wit.     STEEVENS. 

H  2 


ioo  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

Your  party  in  converse,  him  you  would  sound, 
Having  ever  seen  in  the  prenominate  crimes,5 
The  youth  you  breathe  of,  guilty,  be  assur'd, 
He  closes  with  you  in  this  consequence ; 
Good  sir,  or  so  ; 6  or  friend,  or  gentleman^ — 
According  to  the  phrase,  or  the  addition, 
Of  man,  and  country. 

REY.  Very  good,  my  lord. 

POL.  And  then,  sir,  does  he  this, — He  does — 
What  was  I  about  to  say? — By  the  mass,  I  was  about 
to  say  something : — Where  did  I  leave  ? 

REY.  At,  closes  in  the  consequence. 

POL.  At,closes  in  the  consequence,7 — Ay,  marry ; 
He  closes  with  you  thus  : — /  know  the  gentleman; 
I  saw  him  yesterday,  or  t'other  day, 
Or  then,  or  then;  with  such,  or  such  ;  and,  as  you 

say, 

There  was  he  gaming;  there  o'er  took  in  his  rouse; 
There  Jailing  out  at  tennis :  or,  perchance, 
I  saw  him  enter  such  a  house  of  sale, 
(Videlicet,  a  brothel,)  or  so  forth. — 
See  you  now; 

Your  bait  of  falsehood  takes  this  carp  of  truth : 
And  thus  do  we  of  wisdom  and  of  reach, 
With  windlaces,  and  with  assays  of  bias, 
By  indirections  find  directions  out ; 

5 prenominate  crimes,']     i.  e.  crimes  already  named. 

STEEVENS. 

0  Good  sir,  or  so;]  I  suspect,  (with  Mr.  Tyrwhitt,)  that  the 
poet  wrote — Good  sir,  or  sir,  or  friend,  &c.  In  the  last  Act  of 
this  play,  so  is  used  for  so  forth:  "  — six  French  rapiers  and 
poniards,  with  their  assigns,  as  girdle,  hanger,  and  so." 

MALONE. 

7  At,  closes  in  the  consequence, ~\  Thus  the  quarto.  The  folio 
adds — At  friend,  or  so,  or  gentleman.  MALONE. 


sc.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  101 

So,  by  my  former  lecture  and  advice, 

Shall  you  my  son :  You  have  me,  have  you  not  ? 

REY.  My  lord,  I  have. 

POL.  God  be  wi*  you ;  fare  you  well. 

REY.  Good  my  lord, 

POL.  Observe  his  inclination  in  yourself.8 

REY.  I  shall,  my  lord. 

POL.  And  let  him  ply  his  musick. 

REY.  Well,  my  lord. 

[Exit. 

Enter  OPHELIA. 

POL.  Farewell! — How  now,  Ophelia?  What's 
the  matter  ? 

OPH.  O,  my  lord,  my  lord,  I  have  been  so  af- 
frighted ! 

POL.  With  what,  in  the  name  of  heaven  ? 

OPH.  My  lord,  as  I  was  sewing  in  my  closet, 
Lord  Hamlet, — with  his  doublet  all  unbrac'd ; 
No  hat  upon  his  head  ;  his  stockings  foul'd, 
Ungarter'd,  and  down-gyved  to  his  ancle  ;9 

* in  yourself."]     Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — e'en  yourself,  and 

is  followed  by  Dr.  Warburton ;  but  perhaps  in  yourself,  means, 
in  your  own  person,  not  by  spies     JOHNSON. 

The  meaning  seems  to  be — The  temptations  you  feel,  suspect 
in  him,  and  be  watchful  of  them.  So  in  a  subsequent  scene  : 

"  For  by  the  image  of  my  cause,  I  see 

"  The  portraiture  of  his." 
Again,  in  Timon  : 

"  I  weigh  my  friend's  affection  with  my  own."     C. 

9  Ungarter'd,  and  down-gyved  to  his  ancle  ;~\  Down-gyved 
means,  hanging  down  like  the  loose  cincture  which  confines  the 
fetters  round  the  ancles.  STEEVENS. 


102  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

Pale  as  his  shirt ;  his  knees  knocking  each  other ; 

And  with  a  look  so  piteous  in  purport, 

As  if  he  had  been  loosed  out  of  hell, 

To  speak  of  horrors, — he  comes  before  me. 

POL.  Mad  for  thy  love  ? 

OPH.  My  lord,  I  do  not  know  ; 

But,  truly,  I  do  fear  it. 
POL.  What  said  he  ? 

OPH.  He  took  me  by  the  wrist,  and  held  me  hard ; 
Then  goes  he  to  the  length  of  all  his  arm ; 
And,  with  his  other  hand  thus  o'er  his  brow, 
He  falls  to  such  perusal  of  my  face, 
As  he  would  draw  it.     Long  staid  he  so ; 
At  last, — a  little  shaking  of  mine  arm, 
And  thrice  his  head  thus  waving  up  and  down, — 
He  rais'd  a  sigh  so  piteous  and  profound, 
As  it  did  seem  to  shatter  all  his  bulk,1 
And  end  his  being :  That  done,  he  lets  me  go : 
And,  with  his  head  over  his  shoulder  turn'd, 
He  seem'd  to  find  his  way  without  his  eyes ; 
For  out  o'doors  he  went  without  their  helps, 
And,  to  the  last,  bended  their  light  on  me. 

POL.  Come,  go  with  me  ;  I  will  go  seek  the  king. 
This  is  the  very  ecstasy  of  love ; 
Whose  violent  property  foredoes  itself,2 

Thus  the  quartos,  1604,  and  1605,  and  the  fdlio.     In  the 
quarto  of  1611,  the  word  gyved  was  changed  to  gyred' 

MALONE. 

1 all  his  bulk,]     i.  e.  all  his  body.     So,  in  The  Rape  of 

Lucrece: 

*' her  heart 

"  Beating  her  bulk,  that  his  hand  shakes  with  all." 
See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  324,  n.  8.     MALONE. 

* foredoes  itself,]  Toforccfo  is  to  destroy.  So,  in  Othello  : 

"  That  either  makes  me,  or  foredoes  me  quite." 

STBIVEWS. 


sc.  /•         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  105 

And  leads  the  will  to  desperate  undertakings, 
As  oft  as  any  passion  under  heaven, 
That  does  afflict  our  natures.     I  am  sorry, — 
What,  have  you  given  him  any  hard  words  of  late  ? 

OPH.  No,  my  good  lord ;  but,  as  you  did  com- 
mand, 

I  did  repel  his  letters,  and  denied 
His  access  to  me. 

POL.  That  hath  made  him  mad. 

I  am  sorry,  that  with  better  heed  and  judgment, 
I  had  not  quoted  him  :3  I  fear'd,  he  did  but  trifle, 

3  /  had  not  quoted  him :]  To  quote  is,  I  believe,  to  reckon, 
to  take  an  account  of,  to  take  the  quotient  or  result  of  a  compu- 
tation. JOHNSON. 

I  find  a  passage  in  The  Isle  of  Gulls,  a  comedy,  by  John  Day, 
1606,  which  proves  Dr.  Johnson's  sense  of  tte  word  to  be  not  far 
from  the  true  one: 

" 'twill  be  a  scene  of  mirth 

"  For  me  to  quote  his  passions,  and  his  smiles.*' 
To  quote  on   this  occasion  undoubtedly  means  to  observe* 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Mooncalf: 

"  This  honest  man  the  prophecy  that  noted, 
"  And  things  therein  most  curiously  had  quoted, 
"  Found  all  these  signs,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Woman  Hater,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  the 
intelligencer  says, — "  I'll  quote  him  to  a  tittle,"  i.  e.  I  will  mark 
or  observe  him. 

To  quote,  as  Mr.  M.  Mason  observes,  is  invariably  used  by 
Shakspeare  in  this  sense.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece: 
"  Yea,  the  illiterate — 
"  Will  quote  my  loathed  trespass  in  my  looks." 

In  this  passage,  in  the  original  edition  of  1594,  the  word  is 
written  cote,  as  it  is  in  the  quarto  copy  of  this  play.  It  is  merely 
the  old  or  corrupt  spelling  of  the  word.  See  Vol.  VII.  p.  107, 
n.  8;  and  p.  202,  n.  6;  Vol.  VIII.  p.  400,  n.  2;  and  Vol.  X. 
p.  483,  n.  8.  In  Minsheu's  Diet.  1617,  we  find,  "  To  quote, 
mark,  or  note,  a  quotus.  Numeris  enim  scribentes  sententias 
suas  notant  et  distinguunt."  See  also  Cotgrave's  Diet.  1611 : 
"  Quoter.  To  quote  or  mar  he  in  the  margent;  to  note  by  the 
way."  MALONE. 


104  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

And  meant  to  wreck  thee;  but,beshrew  myjealousy! 

It  seems,  it  is  as  proper  to  our  age 

To  cast  beyond  ourselves  in  our  opinions, 

As  it  is  common  for  the  younger  sort 

To  lack  discretion.4     Come,  go  we  to  the  king : 

This  must  be  known ;  which,  being  kept  close, 

might  move 

More  grief  to  hide,  than  hate  to  utter  love.5 
Come, 

\_lLxeunt. 


it  is  as  proper  to  our  age 


To  cast  beyond  ourselves  in  our  opinions. 

As  it  is  common  for  the  younger  sort 

To  lack  discretion.']  This  is  not  the  remark  of  a  weak  man. 
The  vice  of  age  is  too  much  suspicion.  Men  long  accustomed 
to  the  wiles  of  life  cast  commonly  beyond  themselves,  let  their 
cunning  go  farther  than  reason  can  attend  it.  This  is  always  the 
fault  of  a  little  mind,  made  artful  by  long  commerce  with  the 
world.  JOHNSON. 

The  quartos  read — By  heaven  it  is  as  proper  &c.   STEEVENS. 

In  Decker's  Wonderful  Yeare,  4to.  1603,  we  find  an  expression 
similar  to  that  in  the  text :  "  Now  the  thirstie  citizen  casts  be- 
yond the  moone."  MALONE. 

The  same  phrase  occurs  also  in  Titus  Andronicus.     REED. 

*  This  must  be  known  ;  which,  being  kept  close,  might  move 

More  grief  to  hide,  than  hate  to  utter  love.]  i.  e.  this  must 
be  made  known  to  the  King,  for  (being  kept  secret)  the  hiding 
Hamlet's  love  might  occasion  more  mischief  to  us  froni  him  and 
the  Queen,  than  the  uttering  or  revealing  of  it  will  occasion  hate 
and  resentment  from  Hamlet.  The  poet's  ill  and  obscure  ex- 
pression seems  to  have  been  caused  by  his  affectation  of  conclu- 
ding the  scene  with  a  couplet. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads : 

Moregriejto  hide  hate,  than  to  utter  love.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  105 

SCENE  II. 

A  Room  in  the  Castle. 

Enter  King,  Queen,  ROSENCRANTZ,  GUILDEN- 
STERN,  and  Attendants. 

KING.  Welcome,  dear  Rosencrantz,  and  Guil- 

denstern ! 

Moreover  that  we  much  did  long  to  see  you, 
The  need,  we  have  to  use  you,  did  provoke 
Our  hasty  sending.     Something  have  you  heard 
Of  Hamlet's  transformation  ;  so  I  call  it, 
Since  not  the  exterior  nor  the  inward  man 
Resembles  that  it  was :  What  it  should  be, 
More  than  his  father's  death,  that  thus  hath  put 

him 

So  much  from  the  understanding  of  himself, 
I  cannot  dream  of:  I  entreat  you  both, 
That, — being  of  so  young  days  brought  up  with 

him : 

And,  since,  so  neighbour'd  to  his  youth  and  hu- 
mour,6— 

That  you  vouchsafe  your  rest  here  in  our  court 
Some  little  time  :  so  by  your  companies 
To  draw  him  on  to  pleasures ;  and  to  gather, 
So  much  as  from  occasion  you  may  glean, 
Whether  aught,7  to  us  unknown,  afflicts  him  thus, 
That,  open'd,  lies  within  our  remedy. 

6  and  humour,]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos  read — 

haviour.     STEEVENS. 

7  Whether  aught,  &c.]    This  line  is  omitted  in  the  folio. 

STEEVENS. 


106  HAMLET,  ACTU. 

QUEEN.  Good  gentlemen,  he  hath  much  talk'd 

of you; 

And,  sure  I  am,  two  men  there  are  not  living, 
To  whom  he  more  adheres.     If  it  will  please  you 
To  show  us  so  much  gentry,8  and  good  will, 
As  to  expend  your  time  with  us  a  while, 
For  the  supply  and  profit  of  our  hope,9 
Your  visitation  shall  receive  such  thanks 
As  fits  a  king's  remembrance. 

Ros.  Both  your  majesties 

Might,  by  the  sovereign  power  you  have  of  us,1 
Put  your  dread  pleasures  more  into  command 
Than  to  entreaty. 

GuiL.  But  we  both  obey; 

And  here  give  up  ourselves,  in  the  full  bent,2 
To  lay  our  service  freely  at  your  feet, 
To  be  commanded. 

KING.  Thanks,  Rosencrantz,  and  gentle  Guil- 
denstern. 

QUEEN.  Thanks,  Guildenstern,  and  gentle  Ro- 
sencrantz : 
And  I  beseech  you  instantly  to  visit 


*  To  show  us  so  much  gentry,]    Gentry,  for  complaisance. 

WARBURTON. 

9  For  the  supply  &c.]  That  the  hope  which  your  arrival  has 
raised  may  be  completed  by  the  desired  effect.  JOHNSON. 

1  you  have  of  us,"]     I  believe  we  should  read — o'er  us, 

instead  of-— of  us.    M.  MASON. 

*  in  the  full  bent,]     Bent,  for  endeavour,  application. 

WARBURTON. 

The  full  bent,  is  the  utmost  extremity  of  exertion.  The  allu- 
sion is  to  a  bow  bent  as  far  as  it  will  go.  So  afterwards,  in  this 
play: 

**  They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent."     MALONE. 


sc.n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  107 

My  too  much  changed  son. — Go,  some  of  you, 
And  bring  these  gentlemen  where  Hamlet  is. 

GUIL.  Heavens  make  our  presence,   and  our 

practices, 
Pleasant  and  helpful  to  him  ! 

QUEEN.  Ay,  amen ! 

[Exeunt  ROSENCRANTZ,  GUILDENSTERN, 
and  some  Attendants. 


Enter  POLONIUS. 

POL.  The  embassadors  from  Norway,  my  good 

lord, 
Are  joyfully  return'd. 

KING.  Thou  still  hast  been  the  father  of  good 
news. 

POL.  Have  I,  my  lord  ?     Assure  you,  my  good 

liege, 

I  hold  my  duty,  as  I  hold  my  soul, 
Both  to  my  God,  and  to  my  gracious  king : 
And  I  do  think,  (or  else  this  brain  of  mine 
Hunts  not  the  trail  of  policy3  so  sure 
As  it  hath  us'd  to  do,)  that  I  have  found 
The  very  cause  of  Hamlet's  lunacy. 

KING.  O,  speak  of  that ;  that  do  I  long  to  hear. 

POL.  Give  first  admittance  to  the  embassadors; 
My  news  shall  be  the  fruit4  to  that  great  feast. 

KING.  Thyself  do  grace  to  them,  and  bring 
tnem  in.  \_Extt  POLONIUS. 

s  the  trail  of  policy — ~\     The  trail  is  the  course  of  an 

J  TIT* 

animal  pursued  by  the  scent.     JOHNSON. 

4  the  fruit — ]    The  desert  after  the  meat.    JOHNSON. 


108  HAMLET,  ACT //. 

He  tells  me,  my  dear  Gertrude,  he  hath  found 
The  head  and  source  of  all  your  son's  distemper. 

QUEEN.  I  doubt,  it  is  no  other  but  the  main  ; 
His  father's  death,  and  our  o'erhasty  marriage. 

Re-enter  POLONIUS,  with  VOLTIM AND  and  COR- 
NELIUS. 

KING.  Well,  we  shall  sift  him. — Welcome,  my 

good  friends ! 
Say,  Voltimand,  what  from  our  brother  Norway  ? 

VOLT.  Most  fair  return  of  greetings,  and  desires. 
Upon  our  first,  he  sent  out  to  suppress 
His  nephew's  levies ;  which  to  him  appear'd 
To  be  a  preparation  'gainst  the  Polack ; 
But,  better  look'd  into,  he  truly  found 
It  was  against  your  highness :  Whereat  griev'd, — 
That  so  his  sickness,  age,  and  impotence, 
Was  falsely  borne  in  hand,5 — sends  out  arrests 
On  Fortinbras  ;  which  he,  in  brief,  obeys  ; 
Receives  rebuke  from  Norway;  and,  in  fine, 
Makes  vow  before  his  uncle,  never  more 
To  give  the  assay6  of  arms  against  your  majesty. 
Whereon  old  Norway,  overcome  with  joy, 
Gives  him  three  thousand  crowns  in  annual  fee  ;7 

5  borne  in  hand,"]     i.  e.  deceived,  imposed  on.     So,  in 

Macbeth,  Act  III: 

"  How  you  were  borne  in  hand,  how  cross'd,"  &c. 
See  note  on  this  passage,  Vol.  X.  p.  153,  n.  1.     STEEVENS. 

8  To  give  the  assay — ]  To  take  the  assay  was  a  technical  ex- 
pression, originally  applied  to  those  who  tasted  wine  for  princes 
and  great  men.  See  Vol.  XVII.  King  Lear,  Act  V.  sc.  iii. 

MALONE. 

7  Gives  him  three  thousand  crotuns  in  annual  fee ;]  This  read- 
ing first  obtained  in  the  edition  put  out  by  the  players.  But  all 
the  old  quartos,  (from  1605,  downwards,)  read  threescore. 

THEOBALD. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  109 

And  his  commission,  to  employ  those  soldiers, 
So  levied  as  before,  against  the  Polack : 
With  an  entreaty,  herein  further  shown, 

[Gives  a  Paper. 

That  it  might  please  you  to  give  quiet  pass 
Through  your  dominions  for  this  enterprize  5 
On  such  regards  of  safety,  and  allowance, 
As  therein  are  set  down. 

KING.  It  likes  us  well ; 

And,  at  our  more  consider* d  time,  we'll  read, 
Answer,  and  think  upon  this  business. 
Mean  time,  we  thank  you  for  your  well- took  labour : 
Go  to  your  rest ;  at  night  we'll  feast8  together : 
Most  welcome  home ! 

[Exeunt  VOLTIMAND  and  CORNELIUS. 

POL.  This  business  is  well  ended. 

My  liege,  and  madam,  to  expostulate9 

The  metre  is  destroyed  by  the  alteration  :  and  threescore 
thousand  crowns,  in  the  days  of  Hamlet,  was  an  enormous  sum 
of  money.  M.  MASON. 

annual  fee ;]     Fee  in  this  place  signifies  reward,  recom- 

pence.     So,  in  All's  'well  that  ends  well : 

" Not  helping,  death's  my  fee; 

"  But  if  I  help,  what  do  you  promise  me  ?" 
The  word  is  commonly  used  in  Scotland,  for  wages,  as  we  say, 
lawyer's  fee,  physician's  fee.     STEEVENS. 

Fee  is  defined  by  Minsheu,  in  his  Diet.  1617,  a  reward. 

MALONE. 

I  have  restored  the  reading  of  the  folio.    Mr.  Ritson  explains 
it,  I  think,  rightly,  thus:  the  King  gave  his  nephew  nfeud  or 
fee  (in  land)  of  that  yearly  value.     REED. 

8  at  night  we'll  feast — ]     The  King's  intemperance  is 

never  suffered  to  be  forgotten.     JOHNSON. 

9  My  liege,  and  madam,  to  expostulate — ]     To  expostulate, 
for  to  enquire  or  discuss. 

The  strokes  of  humour  in  this  speech  are  admirable.  Polo- 
nius's  character  is  that  of  a  weak,  pedant,  minister  of  state.  His 
declamation  is  a  fine  satire  on  the  impertinent  oratory  then  in 


UO  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

What  majesty  nhould  be,  what  duty  is, 

Why  day  is  day,  night,  night,  and  time  is  time, 


vogue,  which  placed  reason  in  the  formality  of  method,  and  wit 
in  the  gingle  and  play  of  words.  With  what  art  is  he  made  to 
pride  himself  in  his  wit : 

"  That  he  is  mad,  'tis  true:  'tis  true,  'tis  pity: 

"  And  pity  'tis,  'tis  true:  A  foolish  figure; 

"  But  farewell  it," . 

And  how  exquisitely  does  the  poet  ridicule  the  reasoning  in 
fashion,  where  he  makes  Polonius  remark  on  Hamlet's  madness : 

"  Though  this  be  madness,  yet  there's  method  in't :" 
As  if  method,  which  the  wits  of  that  age  thought  the  most  essen- 
tial quality  of  a  good  discourse,  would  make  amends  for  the 
madness.  It  was  madness  indeed,  yet  Polonius  could  comfort 
himself  with  this  reflection,  that  at  least  it  was  method.  It  is 
certain  Shakspeare  excels  in  nothing  more  than  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  his  characters :  To  this  life  and  variety  of  character  (says 
our  great  poet  [Pope]  in  his  admirable  preface  to  Shakspeare,) 
•we  must  add  the  \Konderful  preservation.  We  have  said  what  is 
the  character  of  Polonius ;  and  it  is  allowed  on  all  hands  to  be 
drawn  with  wonderful  life  and  spirit,  yet  the  unity  of  it  has  been 
thought  by  some  to  be  grossly  violated  in  the  excellent  precepts 
and  instructions  which  Shakspeare  makes  his  statesman  give  nis 
son  and  servant  in  the  middle  of  the  Jirst ,  and  beginning  of  the 
second  act.  But  I  will  venture  to  say,  these  criticks  have  not 
entered  into  the  poet's  art  and  address  in  this  particular.  He 
had  a  mind  to  ornament  his  scenes  with  those  fine  lessons  of 
social  life;  but  his  Polonius  was  too  weak  to  be  author  of 
them,  though  he  was  pedant  enough  to  have  met  with  them  in 
his  reading,  and  fop  enough  to  get  them  by  heart,  and  retail 
them  for  his  own.  And  this  the  poet  has  finely  shown  us  was 
the  case,  where,  in  the  middle  of  Polonius's  instructions  to  his 
servant,  he  makes  him,  though  without  having  received  any  in- 
terruption, forget  his  lesson,  and  say — 

"  And  then,  sir,  does  he  this ; 

"  He  does What  was  I  about  to  say  ? 

"  I  was  about  to  say  something where  did  I  leave  ?" 

The  Servant  replies: 

At,  closes  in  the  consequence.     This  sets  Polonius  right,  and 
he  goes  on — 

"  At  closes  in  the  consequence. 

" Ay  marry, 

"  He  closes  thus: 1  know  the  gentleman,"  #c. 


«?.  //.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  1 1 1 

Were  nothing  but  to  waste  night,  day,  and  time. 
Therefore, — since  brevity  is  the  soul  of  wit, 
And  tediousness  the  limbs  and  outward  flourishes, — 
I  will  be  brief:  Your  noble  son  is  mad: 
Mad  call  I  it :  for,  to  define  true  madness, 

which  shows  the  very  words  got  by  heart  which  he  was  repeat- 
ing. Otherwise  closes  in  the  consequence,  which  conveys  no  par- 
ticular idea  of  the  subject  he  was  upon,  could  never  have  made 
him  recollect  where  he  broke  off.  This  is  an  extraordinary  in- 
stance of  the  poet's  art,  and  attention  to  the  preservation  of 
character.  WARBURTON. 

This  account  of  the  character  of  Polonius,  though  it  suffi- 
ciently reconciles  the  seeming  inconsistency  of  so  much  wisdom 
with  so  much  folly,  does  not  perhaps  correspond  exactly  to  the 
ideas  of  our  author.  The  commentator  makes  the  character  of 
Polonius,  a  character  only  of  manners,  discriminated  by  proper- 
ties superficial,  accidental,  and  acquired.  The  poet  intended  a 
nobler  delineation  of  a  mixed  character  of  manners  and  of  na- 
ture. Polonius  is  a  man  bred  in  courts,  exercised  in  business, 
stored  with  observation,  confident  in  his  knowledge,  proud  of 
his  eloquence,  and  declining  into  dotage.  His  mode  of  oratory 
is  truly  represented  as  designed  to  ridicule  the  practice  of  those 
times,  of  prefaces  that  made  no  introduction,  and  of  method  that 
embarrassed  rather  than  explained.  This  part  of  his  character 
is  accidental,  the  rest  is  natural.  Such  a  man  is  positive  and 
confident,  because  he  knows  that  his  mind  was  once  strong,  and 
knows  not  that  it  is  become  weak.  Such  a  man  excels  in  ge- 
neral principles,  but  fails  in  the  particular  application.  He  is 
knowing  in  retrospect,  and  ignorant  in  foresight.  While  he  de- 
pends upon  his  memory,  and  can  draw  from  his  repositories  of 
knowledge,  he  utters  weighty  sentences,  and  gives  useful 
counsel ;  but  as  the  mind  in  its  enfeebled  state  cannot  be  kept 
long  busy  and  intent,  the  old  man  is  subject  to  sudden  derelic- 
tion of  his  faculties,  he  loses  the  order  of  his  ideas,  and  entangles 
himself  in  his  own  thoughts,  till  he  recovers  the  leading  prin- 
ciple, and  falls  again  into  his  former  train.  This  idea  of  dotage 
encroaching  upon  wisdom,  will  solve  all  the  phosnomena  of  the 
character  of  Polonius.  JOHNSON. 

Nothing  can  be  more  just,  judicious,  and  masterly,  than  John- 
son's delineation  of  the  character  of  Polonius  ;  and  I  cannot  read 
it  without  heartily  regretting  that  he  did  not  exert  his  great  abi- 
lities and  discriminating  powers,  in  delineating  the  strange,  in- 
consistent, and  indecisive  character  of  Hamlet,  to  which  I  con- 
fess myself  unequal.  M.  MASON. 


112  HAMLET,  ACT  ii 

What  is't,  but  to  be  nothing  else  but  mad : 
But  let  that  go. 

QUEEN.  More  matter,  with  less  art. 

POL.  Madam,  I  swear,  I  use  no  art  at  all. 
That  he  is  mad,  'tis  true :  'tis  true,  'tis  pity  ; 
And  pity  'tis,  'tis  true  :  a  foolish  figure  ; 
But  farewell  it,  for  I  will  use  no  art. 
Mad  let  us  grant  him  then  :  and  now  remains, 
That  we  find  out  the  cause  of  this  effect ; 
Or,  rather  say,  the  cause  of  this  defect ; 
For  this  effect,  defective,  comes  by  cause : 
Thus  it  remains,  and  the  remainder  thus. 
Perpend. 

I  have  a  daughter ;  have,  while  she  is  mine ; 
Who,  in  her  duty  and  obedience,  mark, 
Hath  given  me  this  :  Now  gather,  and  surmise. 
— To  the  celestial,  and  my  soul's  idol,  the  most  beau- 
tified Ophelia,1 


1  —  To  the  celestial,  and  my  soul's  idol,  the  most  beautified 
Ophelia,']  Mr.  Theobald  for  beautified  substituted  beatified. 

MA  LONE. 

Dr.  Warburton  has  followed  Mr.  Theobald ;  but  I  am  in 
doubt  whether  beautified,  though  as  Polonius  calls  it,  a  vile 
phrase,  be  not  the  proper  word.  Beautified  seems  to  be  a  rile 
phrase,  for  the  ambiguity  of  its  meaning.  JOHNSON. 

Heywood,  in  his  History  of  Edward  VI.  says,  "  Kathcrine 
Parre,  queen  dowager  to  king  Henry  VIII,  was  a  woman 
beautified  with  many  excellent  virtues."  FARMER. 

So,  in  The  Hog  hath  lost  his  Pearl,  1614- : 
"  A  maid  of  rich  endowments,  beautified 
"  With  all  the  virtues  nature  could  bestow.'* 
Again,   Nash  dedicates  his   Christ's    Tears  over  Jerusalem, 
1594  :  "  to  the  most  beautified  lady,  the  lady  Elizabeth  Carey." 

Again,  in   Greene's  Mamillia,   1593:    " although   thy 

person  is  so  bravely  beautified  with  the  dowries  of  nature." 

///  and  vile  as  the  phrase  may  be,  our  author  has  used  it  again 
in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona : 


sc.  u.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  113 

That's  an  ill  phrase,  a  vile  phrase  ;  beautified  is  a 
vile  phrase ;  but  you  shall  hear. — Thus : 
In  her  excellent  white  bosom,  these,2  &c. — 

QUEEN.  Came  this  from  Hamlet  to  her  ? 

POL.  Good  madam,  stay  awhile ;  I  will  be  faith- 
ful.— 

Doubt  thou,  the  stars  arejire;          [Reads. 

Doubt,  that  the  sun  doth  move : 
Doubt  truth  to  be  a  liar ; 

But  never  doubt,  I  love. 

0  dear  Ophelia,  /  am  ill  at  these  numbers;  I  have 
not  art  to  reckon  my  groans :  but  that  I  love  thee  best, 
O  most  best,3  believe  it.     Adieu. 

Thine  evermore,  most  dear  lady,  whilst 
this  machine  is  to  him,  Hamlet.4 

" seeing  you  are  beautified 

"  With  goodly  shape,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

By  beautified  Hamlet  means  beautiful.  But  Polonius,  taking 
the  word  in  the  more  strictly  grammatical  sense  of  being  made 
beautiful,  calls  it  a  vile  phrase,  as  implying  that  his  daughter's 
beauty  was  the  effect  of  art.  M.  MASON. 

8  In  her  excellent  white  bosom,  these,']  So,  in  The  Two  Gentle- 
men of  Verona  : 

"  Thy  letters 

"  Which,  being  writ  to  me,  shall  be  deliver'd 
"  Even  in  the  milk-white  bosom  of  thy  love." 
See  Vol.  IV.  p.  248,  n.  1.     STEEVENS. 

1  have  followed  the  quarto.     The  folio  reads : 

These  in  her  excellent  white  bosom,  these,  &c. 
In  our  poet's  time  the  word  These  was  usually  added  at  the 
end  of  the  superscription  of  letters,  but  I  have  never  met  with  it 
both  at  the  beginning  and  end.     MALONE. 

3  O  most  best,~]     So,  in  Acolastus,  a  comedy,   1540 : 

." that  same  most  best  redresser  or  reformer,  is  God." 

STEEVENS. 

4  whilst  this  machine  is  to  him,  Hamlet.}     These  word* 


VOL.  XVIII.  I 


114  HAMLET,  ACT  ii, 

This,  in  obedience,  hath  my  daughter  shown  me : 
And  more  above,5  hath  his  solicitings, 
As  they  fell  out  by  time,  by  means,  and  place, 
All  given  to  mine  ear. 

KING.  But  how  hath  she 

Received  his  love  ? 

POL.  What  do  you  think  of  me  ? 

KING.  As  of  a  man  faithful  and  honourable. 

POL.  I  would  fain  prove  so.     But  what  might 

you  think, 

When  I  had  seen  this  hot  love  on  the  wing, 
(As  I  perceiv'd  it,  I  must  tell  you  that, 
Before  my  daughter  told  me,)  what  might  you, 
Or  my  dear  majesty  your  queen  here,  think, 
If  I  had  play'd  the  desk,  or  table-book ; 
Or  given  my  heart  a  working,  mute  and  dumb ; 
Or  look'd  upon 'this  love  with  idle  sight; 
What  might  you  think?6  no,   I  went  round7  to 

work, 


will  not  be  ill  explained  by  the  conclusion  of  one  of  the  Letters 

of  the  Paston  Family,  Vol.  II.  p.  43  :  " for  your  pleasure, 

tuhyle  my  taytts  be  my  oivne" 

The  phrase  employed  by  Hamlet  seems  to  have  a  French  con- 
struction. Pendant  que  cette  machine  est  a  lui.  To  be  one's 
own  man  is  a  vulgar  expression,  but  means  much  the  same  as 
Virgil's 

Dum  memor  ipse  met,  dum  spiritus  hos  regit  artus. 

STEEVENS. 

A  more  above,]  is,  moreover,  besides.    JOHNSON. 

6  If  I  had  play*  d  the  desk,  or  table-book} 
Or  given  my  heart  a  "working,  mute  and  dumb; 
Or  look'd  upon  this  love  with  idle  sight; 
What  might  you  think  F]    i.  e.   If  either  I  had  conveyed  in- 
'telligence  between  them,  and  been  the  confident  of  their  amours 
[ptay'd  the  desk  or  table-book,"]  or  had  connived  at  it,  only  ob- 
served them  in  secret,  without  acquainting  my  daughter  with  my 
discovery  [giving  my  heart  a  mute  and  dumb  working;']    or 


jap.  a.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  115 

And  my  young  mistress  thus  did  I  bespeak ; 
Lord  Hamlet  is  a  prince  out  of  thy  sphere;* 
This  must  not  be:  and  then  I  precepts  gave  her,9 
That  she  should  lock  herself  from  his  resort, 
Admit  no  messengers,  receive  no  tokens. 
Which  done,  she  took  the  fruits  of  my  advice ; l 

lastly,  been  negligent  in  observing  the  intrigue,  and  overlooked 
it  [looked  upon  this  love  tvith  idle  sights']  what  would  you  have 
thought  of  me  ?  WARBURTON. 

I  doubt  whether  the  first  line  is  rightly  explained.  It  may 
mean,  if  I  had  locked  up  this  secret  in  my  own  breast,  as  closely 
as  it  were  confined  in  a  desk  or  table-book.  MALONE. 

Or  given  my  heart  a  working,  mute  and  dumb  ;]  The  folio 
reads — a  winking.  STEEVENS. 

.  The  same  pleonasm  [mute  and  dumb"]  is  found  in  our  author's 
Rape  of  Lucrece: 

"  And  in  my  hearing  be  you  mute  and  dumb." 

MALONE. 

7  round — ]    i.  e.  roundly  without  reserve.     So  Polo- 

nius  says  in  the  third  Act :  " be  round  with  him." 

STEEVENS. 

8  Lord  Hamlet  is  a  prince  out  of  thy  sphere ;]     The  quarto, 
1604,  and  the  first  folio,  for  sphere,  have  star.     The  correction 
was  made  by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

9  precepts  gave  her,~]     Thus  the  folio.     The  two  elder" 

quartos  read — prescripts.     I  have  chosen  the  most  familiar  of 
the  two  readings.     Polonius  has  already  said  to  his  son — 

"  And  these  few  precepts  in  thy  memory 
"  Look  thou  character."     STEEVENS. 

The  original  copy  in  my  opinion  is  right.  Polonius  had  ordered 
his  daughter  to  lock  herself  up  from  Hamlet's  resort,  &c.  See 
p.  61: 

"  I  would  not,  in  plain  terms,  from  this  time  forth, 
"  Have  you  so  slander  any  moment's  leisure 
"  As  to  give  words  or  talk  with  the  lord  Hamlet: 
"  Look  to't,  /  charge  you."     MALONE. 

1  Which  done,  she  took  the  fruits  of  my  advice;']  She  took  the 
fruits  of  advice  when  she  obeyed  advice,  the  advice  was  then 
made  fruitful.     JOHNSON. 

I  2 


116  HAMLET,  ACTU. 

And  he,  repulsed,  (a  short  tale  to  make,) 
Fell  into  a  sadness ;  then  into  a  fast ; 2 
Thence  to  a  watch ;  thence  into  a  weakness ; 
Thence  to  a  lightness ;  and,  by  this  declension, 
Into  the  madness  wherein  now  he  raves, 
And  all  we  mourn  for. 

KING.  Do  you  think,  'tis  this  ? 

QUEEN.  It  may  be,  very  likely. 

POL.  Hath  there  been  such  a  time,  (Fd  fain  know 

that,) 

That  I  have  positively  said,  'Tis  so, 
When  it  prov'd  otherwise  ? 

KING.  Not  that  I  know. 

POL.  Take  this  from  this,  if  this  be  otherwise : 
[Pointing  to  his  Head  and  Shoulder. 
If  circumstances  lead  me,  I  will  find 
Where  truth  is  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeed 
Within  the  centre. 

KING.  How  may  we  try  it  further  ? 

POL.  You  know,  sometimes  lie  walks  four  hours 
together,5 

*  ——  (a  short  tale  to  make,) 

Fell  into  a  sadness;  then  into  a  fast ;  &c.]  The  ridicule  of 
this  character  is  here  admirably  sustained.  He  would  not  only 
be  thought  to  have  discovered  this  intrigue  by  his  own  sagacity, 
but  to  have  remarked  all  the  stages  of  Hamlet's  disorder,  from 
his  sadness  to  his  raving,  as  regularly  as  his  physician  could  have 
done ;  when  all  the  while  the  madness  was  only  feigned.  The 
humour  of  this  is  exquisite  from  a  man  who  tells  us,  with  a  con- 
fidence peculiar  to  small  politicians,  that  he  could  find — 

"  Where  truth  was  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeed 

"  Within  the  centre."     WAKBURTON. 

*  four  hours  together,"]  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  were 

we  to  read  indefinitely — 

for  hours  together.     TYUWHITT. 

I  formerly  was  inclined  to  adopt  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  proposed 
emendation ;  but  have  now  no  doubt  that  the  text  is  right.     The 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  117 

Here  in  the  lobby. 
QUEEN.  So  he  does,  indeed. 

POL.  At  such  a  time  I'll  loose  my  daughter  to 

him : 

Be  you  and  I  behind  an  arras  then ; 
Mark  the  encounter :  if  he  love  her  not, 
And  be  not  from  his  reason  fallen  thereon, 
Let  me  be  no  assistant  for  a  state, 
But  keep  a  farm,  and  carters.4 

KING.  We  will  try  it. 


expression,  four  hours  together,  ttvo  hours  together,  &c.  appears 
to  have  been  common.     So,  in  King  Lear,  Act  I : 

"  Edm.  Spake  you  with  him  ? 

"  Edg.  Ay,  two  hours  together.'* 
Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

" ay,  and  have  been,  any  time  these  four  hours.'* 

Again,  in  Webster's  Dutchess  ofMalfy,  1623  : 

«'  She  will  muse  four  hours  together,  and  her  silence 

"  Methinks  expresseth  more  than  if  she  spake." 

MALONE. 

4  At  such  a  time  I'll  loose  my  daughter  to  him : 
Be  you  and  I  behind  an  arras  then; 
Mark  the  encounter  :  if  he  love  her  not, 
And  be  not  from  his  reason  fallen  thereon, 
Let  me  be  no  assistant  for  a  state, 

But  keep  a  form,  and  carters.]  The  scheme  of  throwing 
Ophelia  in  Hamlet's  way,  in  order  to  try  his  sanity,  as  well  as 
the  address  of  the  King  in  a  former  scene  to  Rosencrantz  and 
Guildenstern : 

" 1  entreat  you  both 

"  That  you  vouchsafe  your  rest  here  in  our  court 
"  Some  little  time ;  so  by  your  companies 
"  To  draw  him  on  to  pleasures,  and  to  gather 
*'  So  much  as  from  occasion  you  may  glean, 
"  Whether  aught  to  us  unknown  afflicts  him  thus, 
"  That,  open'd,  lies  within  our  remedy ; — " 
seem  to  have  been  formed  on  the  following  slight  hints  in  The 
Hi/story  of  Hamblet,  bl.  let.  sig.  C  3 :  "  They  counselled  to  try 
and  know  if  possible,  how  to  discover  the  intent  and  meaning  of 
the  young  prince ;  and  they  could  find  no  better  nor  more  fit 


MS  HAMLET, 

Enter  HAMLET,  reading. 

QUEEN.  But,  look,  where  sadly  the  poor  wretch 
comes  reading. 

POL.  Away,  I  do  beseech  you,  both  away ; 
I'll  board  him3  presently : — O,  give  me  leave. — 

[Exeunt  King,  Queen,  and  Attendants. 
How  does  my  good  lord  Hamlet  ? 

invention  to  intrap  him,  than  to  set  some  faire  and  beautiful 
woman  in  a  secret  place,  that  with  flattering  speeches  and  all  the 
craftiest  meanes  she  could,  should  purposely  seek  to  allure  his 
mind  to  have  his  pleasure  of  her. — To  this  end,  certain  courtiers 
were  appointed  to  lead  Hamlet  to  a  solitary  place,  within  the 
woods,  where  they  brought  the  woman,  inciting  him  to  take 
their  pleasures  together.  And  surely  the  poore  prince  at  this 
assault  had  beene  in  great  danger,  if  a  gentleman  that  in  Horven- 
dille's  time  had  been  nourished  with  him,  had  not  showne  him- 
selfe  more  afFectioned  to  the  bringing  up  he  had  received  with 
Hamblet,  than  desirous  to  please  the  tyrant. — This  gentleman 
bare  the  courtiers  company,  making  full  account  that  the  least 
showe  of  perfect  sence  and  wisdome  that  Hamblet  should  make, 
would  be  sufficient  to  cause  him  to  loose  his  life ;  and  therefore 
by  certaine  signes  he  gave  Hamblet  intelligence  in  what  danger 
he  was  like  to  fall,  if  by  any  meanes  he  seemed  to  obeye,  or 
once  like  the  wanton  toyes  and  vicious  provocations  of  the  gen- 
tlewoman sent  thither  by  his  uncle :  which  much  abashed  the 
prince,  as  then  wholly  being  in  affection  to  the  lady.  But  by 
her  he  was  likewise  informed  of  the  treason,  as  one  that  from 
her  infancy  loved  and  favoured  him. — The  prince  in  this  sort 
having  deceived  the  courtiers  and  the  lady's  expectation,  that 
affirmed  and  swore  hee  never  once  offered  to  have  his  pleasure  of 
the  woman,  although  in  subtlety  he  affirmed  the  contrary,  every 
man  thereupon  assured  themselves  that  without  doubt  he  was 
distraught  of  his  sences ; — so  that  as  then  Fengon's  practise  took 
no  effect." 

Here  we  find  the  rude  outlines  of  the  characters  of  Ophelia, 
and  Horatio, — the  gentleman  that  in  the  time  of  Horvemlille 
(the  father  of  Hamlet]  had  been  nourished  ivith  him.  Hut  in 
this  piece  there  are  no  traits  of  the  character  ofPolonius.  There 
is  indeed  a  counsellor,  and  he  places  himself  in  the  Queen's 
chamber  behind  the  arras ; — but  this  is  the  whole.  MALONE. 


ac.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  119 

HAM.  Well,  god-'a-mercy. 

POL.  Do  you  know  me,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Excellent  well ;  you  are  a  fishmonger. 

POL.  Not  I,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Then  I  would  you  were  so  honest  a  man. 

POL.  Honest,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Ay,  sir ;  to  be  honest,  as  this  world  goes, 
is  to  be  one  man  picked  out  of  ten  thousand. 

POL.  That's  very  true,  my  lord. 

HAM.  For  if  the  sun  breed  maggots  in  a  dead 

dog,  being  a  god,  kissing  carrion, Have  you  a 

daughter  ? 6 

5  Pll  board  Mm — ]     i.  e.  accost,  address  him.     See  Vol.  V. 
p.  250,  n.  5.     REED. 

6  For  if  the  $un  breed  maggots  in  a  dead  dog,  being  a  god, 

kissing  carrion, Have  you  a  daughter  ?]    [Old  copies — a  good 

kissing  carrion,]  The  editors  seeing  Hamlet  counterfeit  madness, 
thought  they  might  safely  put  any  nonsense  into  his  mouth.    But 
this  strange  passage,  when  set  right,  will  be  seen  to  contain  as 
great  and  sublime  a  reflection  as  any  the  poet  puts  into  his  hero's 
mouth  throughout  the  whole  play.     We  will  first  give  the  true 
reading,  which  is  this :  For  if  the  sun  breed  maggots  in  a  dead 

dog,  being  a  god,  kissing  carrion, .     As  to  the  sense  we 

may  observe,  that  the  illative  particle  [for]  shows  the  speaker  to 
be  reasoning  from  something  he  had  said  before  :  what  that  was 
we  learn  in  these  words,  to  be  honest,  as  this  world  goes,  is  to 
be  one  picked  out  of  ten  thousand.     Having  said  this,  the  chain 
of  ideas  led  him  to  reflect  upon  the  argument  which  libertines 
bring  against  Providence  from  the  circumstance  of  abounding 
evil.     In  the  next  speech,  therefore,  he  endeavours  to  answer 
that  objection,  and  vindicate  Providence,  even  on  a  supposition 
of  the  fact,  that  almost  all  men  were  wicked.     His  argument  in 
the  two  lines  in  question  is  to  this  purpose, — Bttt  'why  need  we 
wonder  at  this  abounding  of  evil  ?  For  if  the  sun  breed  maggots 
in  a  dead  dog,  which  though  a  god,  yet  shedding  its  heat  and 

influence  upon  carrion Here  he  stops  short,  lest  talking  too 

consequentially  the  hearer  should  suspect  his  madness  to  be 
feigned ;  and  so  turns  him  off  from  the  subject,  by  enquiring  of 


t20  HAMLET, 

POL.  I  have,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Let  her  not  walk  i'the  sun  :  conception  is 


his  daughter.  But  the  inference  which  he  intended  to  make, 
was  a  very  noble  one,  and  to  this  purpose.  If  this  (says  he)  be 
the  case,  that  the  effect  follows  the  thing  operated  upon  [carrion"] 
and  not  the  thing  operating  [a  god,"]  why  need  we  wonder,  that 
the  supreme  cause  of  all  things  diffusing  its  blessings  on  mankind, 
who  is,  as  it  were,  a  dead  carrion,  dead  in  original  sin,  man, 
instead  of  a  proper  return  of  duty,  should  breed  only  corruption 
and  vices  ?  This  is  the  argument  at  length  ;  and  is  as  noble  a 
one  in  behalf  of  Providence  as  could  come  from  the  schools  of 
divinity.  But  this  wonderful  man  had  an  art  not  only  of  ac- 
quainting the  audience  with  what  his  actors  say,  but  with  what 
they  think.  The  sentiment  too  is  altogether  in  character,  for 
Hamlet  is  perpetually  moralizing,  and  his  circumstances  make 
this  reflection  very  natural.  The  same  .thought,  something  di- 
versified, as  on  a  different  occasion,  he  uses  again  in  Measure 
for  Measure,  which  will  serve  to  confirm  these  observations : 

The  tempter  or  the  tempted,  who  sins  most  ? 

Not  she ;  nor  doth  she  tempt ;  but  it  is  I 

That  lying  by  the  violet  in  the  sun, 

Do  as  the  carrion  does,  not  as  the  flower, 

Corrupt  by  virtuous  season." 
And  the  same  kind  of  expression  is  in  Cymbeline: 
"  Common-kissing  Titan."     WARBURTON. 

This  is  a  noble  emendation,  which  almost  sets  the  critick  on, 
a  level  with  the  author.  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Warburton,  in  my  apprehension,  did  not  understand  the 
passage.  I  have  therefore  omitted  his  laboured  comment  on  it, 
in  which  he  endeavours  to  prove  that  Shakspeare  intended  it  as  a 
vindication  of  the  ways  of  Providence  in  permitting  evil  to 
abound  in  the  world.  He  does  not  indeed  pretend  that  this  pro- 
found meaning  can  be  drawn  from  what  Hamlet  says  ;  but  that 
this  is  what  he  was  thinking  of;  for  "  this  wonderful  man 
( Shakspeare )  had  an  art  not  only  of  acquainting  the  audience 
with  what  his  actors  say,  but  with  what  they  think  /" 

Hamlet's  observation  is,  I  think,  simply  this.  He  has  just  re- 
marked that  honesty  is  very  rare  in  the  world.  To  this  Polonius 
assents.  The  prince  then  adds,  that  since  there  is  so  little  virtue 
in  the  world,  since  corruption  abounds  every  where,  and  maggots 
are  bred  by  the  sun,  even  in  a  dead  dog,  Polonius  ought  to 
take  care  to  prevent  his  daughter  from  walking  in  the  sun,  lest 


#7.  //.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  121 

a  blessing;7  but  as  your  daughter  may  conceive, — 
friend,  look  to't. 

she  should  prove  "  a  breeder  of  sinners ;"  for  though  conception 
in  general  be  a  blessing,  yet  as  Ophelia  (whom  Hamlet  supposes 
to  be  as  frail  as  the  rest  of  the  world,)  might  chance  to  conceive, 
it  might  be  a  calamity.  The  maggots  breeding  in  a  dead  dog, 
seem  to  have  been  mentioned  merely  to  introduce  the  word  con- 
ception; on  which  word,  as  Mr.  Steevens  has  observed,  Shak- 
speare  has  play'd  in  King  Lear  :  and  probably  a  similar  quibble 
was  intended  here.  The  word,  however,  may  have  been  used 
in  its  ordinary  sense,  for  pregnancy,  without  any  double  meaning. 

The  slight  connection  between  this  and  the  preceding  passage, 
and  Hamlet's  abrupt  question, — Have  you  a  daughter?  were 
manifestly  intended  more  strongly  to  impress  Polonius  with  the 
belief  of  the  prince's  madness. 

Perhaps  this  passage  ought  rather  to  be  regulated  thus: — 
"  being  a  god-kissing  carrion  ;"  i.  e.  a  carrion  that  kisses  the  sun. 
The  participle  being  naturally  refers  to  the  last  antecedent,  dog. 
Had  Shakspeare  intended  that  it  should  be  referred  to  sun,  he 
would  probably  have  written — "  he  being  a  god,"  &c.    We  have 
many  similar  compound  epithets  in  these  plays.     Thus,  in  King 
Lear,  Act  II.  sc.  i.  Kent  speaks  of  "  ear-kissing  arguments." 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  the  play  before  us : 
**  New  lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill." 
Again,  in  The  Rape  ofLucrece: 

"  Threatning  cloud-kissing  Ilion  with  annoy." 

However,  the  instance  quoted  from  Cymbeline  by  Dr.  War- 
burton,  " common-kissing  Titan,"  seems  in  favour  of  the 

regulation  that  has  been  hitherto  made ;  for  here  we  find  the 
poet  considered  the  sun  as  kissing  the  carrion,  not  the  carrion 
as  kissing  the  sun.  So,  also,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I:  "  Did'st 
thou  never  see  Titan  kiss  a  dish  of  butter  ?"  The  following 
lines  also  in  the  historical  play  of  King  Edward  III.  1596, 
which  Shakspeare  had  certainly  seen,  are,  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged, adverse  to  the  regulation  I  have  suggested : 

*'  The  freshest  summer's  day  doth  soonest  taint 
"  The  loathed  carrion,  that  it  seems  to  kiss." 

In  justice  to  Dr.  Johnson,  I  should  add,  that  the  high  elogium 
which  he  has  pronounced  on  Dr.  Warburton's  emendation,  was 
founded  on  the  comment  which  accompanied  it ;  of  which,  how- 
ever, I  think,  his  judgment  must  have  condemned  the  reasoning, 
though  his  goodness  and  piety  approved  its  moral  tendency. 

MALONE. 

As  a  doubt,  at  least,  may  be  entertained  on  this  subject,  I  have 


122  HAMLET,  ACTIT. 

POL.  How  say  you  by  that  ?  \_Aside.~]  Still  harp- 
ing on  my  daughter : — yet  he  knew  me  not  at  first; 
he  said,  I  was  a  fishmonger :  He  is  far  gone,  far 
gone  :  and,  truly  in  my  youth  I  suffered  much  ex- 
tremity for  love  ;  very  near  this.  I'll  speak  to  him 
again. — What  do  you  read,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Words,  words,  words ! 

POL.  What  is  the  matter,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Between  who  ? 

POL.  I  mean,  the  matter  that  you  read,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Slanders,  sir :  for  the  satirical  rogue  says 
here,  that  old  men  have  grey  beards  ;8  that  their 

hot  ventured  to  expunge  a  note  written  by  a  great  critick,  and 
applauded  by  a  greater.     STEEVENS. 

7  conception  is  a  blessing;  &c.]    Thus  the  quarto.    The 

folio  reads  thus :  "  —  conception  is  a  blessing  ;  but  not  a*  your 
daughter  may  conceive.   Friend,  look  to't."   The  meaning  seemg 
to  be,  conception  (i.  e.  understanding)  is  a  blessing ;  but  as  your 
daughter  may  conceive  (i.  e.  be  pregnant,)  friend,  look  to't,  i.  e. 
have  a  care  of  that.     The  same  quibble  occurs  again  in  the  first 
scene  of  King  Lear : 

"  Kent.  I  cannot  conceive  you,  sir. 

"  Glo.  Sir,  this  young  fellow's  mother  could." 

STEEVENS. 

The  word  not,  I  have  no  doubt,  was  inserted  by  the  editor  of 
the  folio,  in  consequence  of  his  not  understanding  the  passage. 
A  little  lower  we  find  a  similar  interpolation  in  some  of  the  co- 
pies, probably  from  the  same  cause :  "  You  cannot,  sir,  take 
from  me  any  thing  that  I  will  not  more  willingly  part  withal, 
except  my  life."  MALONE. 

8  Slanders,  sir :  for  the  satirical  rogue  says  here,  that  old 
men  &c.]    By  the  satirical  rogue  he  means  Juvenal  m  his  10th 
Satire : 

"  Da  spatium  vitae,  multos  da  Jupiter  annos  : 
"  Hoc  recto  vultu,  solum  hoc  et  pallidus  optas. 
"  Sed  quam  continuis  et  quantis  tonga  senectus 
"  Plena  malis !  deformem,  et  tctrum  ante  omnia  vnltumt 
"  Dissimilemque  sui,"  &c. 
"Nothing  could  be  finer  imagined  for  Hamlet,  in  his  circum- 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  12S 

faces  are  wrinkled;  their  eyes  purging  thick  am- 
ber, and  plum-tree  gum  ;  and  that  they  have  a 
plentiful  lack  of  wit,  together  with  most  weak 
hams :  All  of  which,  sir,  though  I  most  powerfully 
and  potently  believe,  yet  I  hold  it  not  honesty  to 
have  it  thus  set  down ;  for  yourself,  sir,  shall  be 
as  old  as  I  am,  if,  like  a  crab,  you  could  go  back- 
ward. 

POL.  Though  this  be  madness,  yet  there's  me- 
thod in  it.  [_Aside.~]  Will  you  walk  out  of  the  air, 
my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Into  my  grave  ? 

POL.  Indeed,  that  is  out  o'the  air. — How  preg- 


stances,  than  the  bringing  him  in  reading  a  description  of  the 
evils  of  long  life.     WARBURTON. 

Had  Shakspeare  read  Juvenal  in  the  original,  he  had  met 
with — 

"  De  temone  Britanno,  Excidet  Arviragus" . 

and 

" Uxorem,  Posthume,  ducis  ?" 

We  should  not  then  have  had  continually  in  Cymbeline,  Arvira- 
gus, and  Posthumus.  Should  it  be  said  that  the  quantity  in  the 
former  word  might  be  forgotten,  it  is  clear  from  a  mistake  in  the 
latter,  that  Shakspeare  could  not  possibly  have  read  any  one  of 
the  Roman  poets. 

There  was  a  translation  of  the  10th  Satire  of  Juvenal  by  Sir 
John  Beaumont,  the  elder  brother  of  the  famous  Francis :  but  I 
cannot  tell  whether  it  was  printed  in  Shakspeare's  time.  In  that 
age  of  quotation,  every  classick  might  be  picked  up  by  piece- 
meal. 

I  forgot  to  mention  in  its  proper  place,  that  another  descrip- 
tion of  Old  Age  in  As  you  like  it,  has  been  called  a  parody  on  a 
passage  in  a  French  poem  of  Gamier.  It  is  trifling  to  say  any 
thing  about  this,  after  the  observation  I  made  in  Macbeth:  but 
one  may  remark  once  for  all,  that  Shakspeare  wrote  for  the 
people ;  and  could  not  have  been  so  absurd  as  to  bring  forward 
any  allusion,  which  had  not  been  familiarized  by  some  accident 
or  other.  FARMER. 


124  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

nant  sometimes  his  replies  are!9  a  happiness  that 
often  madness  hits  on,  which  reason  and  sanity  could 
not  so  prosperously  be  delivered  of.  I  will  leave 
him,  and  suddenly *  contrive  the  means  of  meeting 
between  him  and  my  daughter. — My  honourable 
lord,  I  will  most  humbly  take  my  leave  of  you. 

HAM.  You  cannot,  sir,  take  from  me  any  thing 
that  I  will  more  willingly  part  withal ;  except  my 
life,  except  my  life,  except  my  life, 

POL.  Fare  you  well,  my  lord. 
HAM.  These  tedious  old  fools ! 

Enter  ROSENCRANTZ  2  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

POL.  You  go  to  seek  the  lord  Hamlet ;  there 
be  is. 

Ros.  God  save  you,  sir!  [To  POLONIUS. 

[Exit  POLONIUS. 

GUIL.  My  honour'd  lord ! — 
Ros.  My  most  dear  lord ! — 

HAM.  My  excellent  good  friends!  How  dost 
thou,  Guildenstern  ?  Ah,  Rosencrantz  !  Good 
lads,  how  do  ye  both  ? 

Ros.  As  the  indifferent  children  of  the  earth. 

GUIL.  Happy,  in  that  we  are  not  overhappy ; 
On  fortune's  cap  we  are  not  the  very  button. 

9  How  pregnant  #c.]     Pregnant  is  ready,  dexterous,  apt. 
So,  in  Twelfth  Night: 

" a  wickedness 

"  Wherein  the  pregnant  enemy  doth  much."  STEEVENS. 

1  and  suddenly  &c.]     This  and  the  greatest  part  of  the 

two  following  lines,  are  omitted  in  the  quartos.     STEEVENS. 

*  Rosencrantz — ]  There  was  an  ernbassador  of  that  name 

in  England  about  the  time  when  this  play  was  written.  STEEVENS. 


sc.ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK. 

HAM.  Nor  the  soles  of  her  shoe  ? 
Ros.  Neither,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Then  you  live  about  her  waist,  or  in  the 
middle  of  her  favours  ? 

GUIL.  'Faith,  her  privates  we. 

HAM.  In  the  secret  parts  of  fortune  ?  O,  most 
true  ;  she  is  a  strumpet.  What  news  ? 

Ros.  None,   my  lord ;    but  that  the  world's 
grown  honest. 

HAM.  Then  is  dooms-day  near :  But  your  news 
is  not  true.  [Let  me3  question  more  in  particu- 
lar: What  have  you,  my  good  friends,  deserved 
at  the  hands  of  fortune,  that  she  sends  you  to 
prison  hither  ? 

GUIL.  Prison,  my  lord ! 
HAM.  Denmark's  a  prison. 
Ros.  Then  is  the  world  one. 

HAM.  A  goodly  one ;  in  which  there  are  many 
confines,  wards,  and  dungeons;  Denmark  being 
one  of  the  worst. 

Ros.  We  think  not  so,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Why,  then  'tis  none  to  you ;  for  there  is 
nothing  either  good  or  bad,  but  thinking  makes  it 
so :  to  me  it  is  a  prison. 

Ros.  Why,  then  your  ambition  makes  it  one  j 
'tis  too  narrow  for  your  mind. 

HAM.  O  God!  I  could  be  bounded  in  a  nut- 
shell, and  count  myself  a  king  of  infinite  space ; 
were  it  not  that  I  have  bad  dreams. 

3  [Let  me  &c.]  All  within  the  crotchets  is  wanting  in  the 
quartos.  STEEVENS. 


126  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

GUIL.  Which  dreams,  indeed,  are  ambition ;  for 
the  very  substance  of  the  ambitious  is  merely  the 
shadow  of  a  dream.3 

HAM.  A  dream  itself  is  but  a  shadow. 

Ros.  Truly,  and  I  hold  ambition  of  so  airy  and 
light  a  quality,  that  it  is  but  a  shadow's  shadow. 

HAM.  Then  are  our  beggars,  bodies  ;*  and  our 
monarchs,  and  outstretch'd  heroes,  the  beggars' 
shadows :  Shall  we  to  the  court  ?  for,  by  my  fay, 
I  cannot  reason. 

Ros.  GUIL.  We'll  wait  upon  you. 

HAM.  No  such  matter :  I  will  not  sort  you  with 
the  rest  of  my  servants ;  for,  to  speak  to  you  like 
aa  honest  man,  I  am  most  dreadfully  attended.] 
But,  in  the  beaten  way  of  friendship,  what  make 
you  at  Elsinore  ? 

Ros.  To  visit  you,  my  lord ;  no  other  occasion. 

HAM.  Beggar  that  I  am,  I  am  even  poor  in  thanks; 
but  I  thank  you :  and  sure,  dear  friends,  my  thanks 
are  too  dear,  a  halfpenny.5  Were  you  not  sent  for  ? 

3  the  shadow  of  a  dream."]     Shakspeare  has  accidentally 

inverted  an  expression  of  Pindar,  that  the  state  of  humanity  is 
ffKias  *ovxg ,  the  dream  of  a  shadow.     JOHNSON. 

So,  Davies : 

"  Man's  life  is  but  a  dreame,  nay,  less  than  so, 
"  A  shadow  of  a  dreame"     FARMER. 

So,  in  the  tragedy  of  Darius,  1603,  by  Lord  Sterline: 
"  Whose  best  was  but  the  shadow  of  a  dream." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Then  are  our  beggars,  bodies  ;~^     Shakspeare  seems  here  to 
design  a  ridicule  of  tnose  declamations  against  wealth  and  great- 
ness, that  seem  to  make  happiness  consist  in  poverty. 

JOHNSOH. 

4  too  dear,  a  halfpenny.^  i.  e.  a  halfpenny  too  dear :  they 

are  worth  nothing.    The  modern  editors  read — at  a  halfpenny. 

MALONE. 


sc.ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  127 

Is  it  your  own  inclining  ?  Is  it  a  free  visitation  ? 
Come,  come ;  deal  justly  with  me :  come,  come ; 
nay,  speak. 

GUIL.  What  should  we  say,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Any  thing — but  to  the  purpose.  You 
were  sent  for ;  and  there  is  a  kind  of  confession  in 
your  looks,  which  your  modesties  have  not  craft 
enough  to  colour :  I  know,  the  good  king  and 
queen  have  sent  for  you. 

Ros.  To  what  end,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  That  you  must  teach  me.  But  let  me 
conjure  you,  by  the  rights  of  our  fellowship,  by  the 
consonancy  of  our  youth,  by  the  obligation  of  our 
ever-preserved  love,  and  by  what  more  dear  a  better 
proposer  could  charge  you  withal,  be  even  and  di- 
rect with  me,  whether  you  were  sent  for,  or  no  ? 

Ros.  What  say  you?  [To  GUILDENSTERN. 

HAM.  Nay,  then  I  have  an  eye  of  you;6  \_Aside.~\ 
r— if  you  love  me,  hold  not  off. 

GUIL.  My  lord,  we  were  sent  for. 

HAM.  I  will  tell  you  why;  so  shall  my  anticipa- 
tion prevent  your  discovery,  and  your  secrecy  to  the 
king  and  queen  moult  no  feather.  I  have  of  late,7 
(but,  wherefore,  I  know  not,)  lost  all  my  mirth, 
forgone  all  custom  of  exercises:  and, indeed,  it  goes 
so  heavily  with  my  disposition,  that  this  goodly 
frame,  the  earth,  seems  to  me  a  steril  promontory; 

c  Nay,  then  I  have  an  eye  ofyou;~\  An  eye  of  you  means,  I 
have  a  glimpse  of  your  meaning.  STEEVENS. 

7  I  have  of  late,  &c.~]  This  is  an  admirable  description  of  a 
rooted  melancholy  sprung  from  thickness  of  blood ;  and  artfully 
imagined  to  hide  the  true  cause  of  his  disorder  from  the  penetra* 
tion  of  these  two  friends,  who  were  set  over  him  as  spies. 

WARJJURTON. 


128  HAMLET,  Act  1L 

this  most  excellent  canopy,  the  air,  look  you,  this 
brave  overhanging  firmament,8  this  majestical  roof 
fretted  with  golden  fire,9  why,  it  appears  no  other 
thing  to  me,  than  a  foul  and  pestilent  congrega- 
tion of  vapours.  What  a  piece  of  work  is  a  man  ! 
How  noble  in  reason  !  how  infinite  in  faculties !  in 
form,  and  moving,  how  express  and  admirable!  in 
action,  how  like  an  angel !  in  apprehension,  how 
like  a  god !  the  beauty  of  the  world !  the  paragon 
of  animals !  And  yet,  to  me,  what  is  this  quint- 
essence of  dust  ?  man  delights  not  me,  nor  woman 
neither ;  though,  by  your  smiling,  you  seem  to  say 
so. 

Ros.  My  lord,  there  is  no  such  stuff  in  my 
thoughts. 

HAM.  Why  did  you  laugh  then,  when  I  said, 
Man  delights  not  me? 

Ros.  To  think,  my  lord,  if  you  delight  not  in 
man,  what  lenten  entertainment1  the  players  shall 
receive  from  you:  we  coted  them  on  the  way;2 
and  hither  are  they  coming,  to  offer  you  service. 

8  this  brave  overhanging  firmament,]     Thus  the  quarto. 

The  folio  reads, — this  brave  o'er-hanging,  this  Sfc. 

STEEVENS. 

9  this  most  excellent  canopy,  the  air, — this  majestical  roof 

fretted  with  golden  fire,}    So,  in  our  author's  21st  Sonnet: 

"  As  those  gold  candles,  fix'd  in  heaven's  air." 
Again,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice: 

" Look,  how  the  floor  of  heaven 

"  Is  thick  inlaid  with  patins  of  bright  gold  /" 

MALONE. 

1  lenten  entertainment — ]  i.  e.  sparing,  like  the  enter- 
tainments given  in  Lent.  So,  in  The  Duke's  Mistress,  by  Shir- 
ley, 1638 : 

" to  maintain  you  with  bisket, 

"  Poor  John,  and  half  a  livery,  to  read  moral  virtue 
"  And  lenten  lectures."     STEEVENS. 
*  toe  coted  them  on  the  'way;']     To  cote  is  to  overtake. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  129 

HAM.  He  that  plays  the  king,  shall  be  welcome  ; 
his  majesty  shall  have  tribute  of  me:  the  adven- 
turous knight  shall  use  his  foil,  and  target :  the 
lover  shall  not  sigh  gratis  ;  the  humorous  man  shall 
end  his  part  in  peace  : 3  the  clown  shall  make  those 
laugh,  whose  lungs  are  tickled  o'the  sere;4  and  the 


I  meet  with  this  word  in  The  Return  from  Parnassus,  a  comedy, 
1606: 

" marry  we  presently  coted  and  outstript  them." 

Again,  in  Golding's  Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  1587,  Book  II: 

"  With  that  Hippomenes  coted  her." 
Again,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  1602,  B.  VI.  chap,  xxx  : 

"  Gods  and  goddesses  for  wantonness  out-coted." 
Again,  in  Drant's  translation  of  Horace's  satires,  1567: 

"  For  he  that  thinks  to  coat  all  men,  and  all  to  overgoe." 
Chapman  has  more  than  once  used  the  word  in  his  version  of 
the  23d  Iliad. 

See  Vol.  VII.  p.  107,  n.  8. 

In  the  laws  of  coursing,  says  Mr.  Tollett,  "  a  cote  is  when  a 
greyhound  goes  endways  by  the  side  of  his  fellow,  and  gives  the 
hare  a  turn."  This  quotation  seems  to  point  out  the  etymology 
of  the  verb  to  be  from  the  French  cote,  the  side.  STEEVENS. 

— shall  end  his  part  in  peace .-]  After  these  words  the 
folio  adds — the  clown  shall  make  those  laugh  whose  lungs  are 
tickled  o'the  sere.  WARBURTON. 

4 the  clown  shall  make  those  laugh,  whose  lungs  are  tickled 

o'the  sere;~\  i.  e.  those  who  are  asthmatical,  and  to  whom  laugh- 
ter is  most  uneasy.  This  is  the  case  (as  I  am  told)  with  those 
whose  lungs  are  tickled  by  the  sere  or  serum:  but  about  these 
Words  I  am  neither  very  confident,  nor  very  solicitous.  Will  the 
following  passage  in  The  Tempest  be  of  use  to  any  future  com- 
mentator ? 

" to  minister  occasion  to  these  gentlemen,  who  are  of 

such  sensible  and  nimble  lungs,  that  they  always  use  to  laugh  at 
nothing." 

The  word  scare  occurs  as  unintelligibly  in  an  ancient  Dialogue 
between  the  Comen  Secretary  and  Jelowsy,  touchynge  the  un- 
stableness  of  Harlottes,  bl.  1.  no  date: 

"  And  wyll  byde  whysperynge  in  the  eare, 
"  Thynk  ye  her  tayle  is  not  light  of  the  seare  ?" 
VOL.  XVIII.  K 


130  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

lady  shall  say  her  mind  freely,5  or  the  blank  verse 
shall  halt  for't. — What  players  are  they  ? 

Ros.  Even  those  you  were  wont  to  take  such 
delight  in,  the  tragedians  of  the  city. 

HAM.  How  chances  it,  they  travel  ?6  their  resi- 


The  sense  of  the  adjective  sere  is  not  more  distinct  in  Chap- 
man's version  of  the  22d  Iliad: 

"  Hector,  thou  only  pestilence,  in  all  mortalitie, 

"  To  my  sere  spirits." 
Seep.  135,  n.  1. 
A  sere  is  likewise  the  talon  of  a  hawk.     STEEVENS. 

These  words  are  not  in  the  quarto.  I  am  by  no  means  satis- 
fied with  the  explanation  given,  though  I  have  nothing  satis- 
factory to  propose.  I  believe  Hamlet  only  means,  that  the  clown 
shall  make  those  laugh  who  have  a  disposition  to  laugh ;  who 
are  pleased  with  their  entertainment.  That  no  asthmatic  disease 
was  in  contemplation,  may  be  inferred  from  both  the  words 
used,  tickled  and  lungs;  each  of  which  seems  to  have  a  relation 
to  laughter,  and  the  latter  to  have  been  considered  by  Shak- 
speare,  as  (if I  may  so  express  myself,)  its  natural  seat.  So,  in 
Coriolanus: 

" with  a  kind  of  smile, 

"  Which  ne'er  came  from  the  lungs, — ." 
Again,  in  As  you  like  it: 

" When  I  did  hear 

"  The  motley  fool  thus  moral  on  the  time, 
"  My  lungs  began  to  crow  like  chanticleer." 
O'the  sere  or  of  the  sere,  means,  I  think,  by  the  sere ;  but  the 
word  sere  I  am  unable  to  explain,  and  suspect  it  to  be  corrupt. 
Perhaps  we  should  read — the  clown  shall  make  those  laugh  whose 
lungs  are  tickled  o'the  scene,  i.  e.  by  the  scene.     A  similar  cor- 
ruption has  happened  in  another  place,  where  we  6nd  scare  for 
scene.     See  Vol.  V.  p.  190,  n.  6.    MA  LONE. 

4 the  lady  shall  say  her  mind  &c.]     The  lady  shall  have 

no  obstruction,  unless  from  the  lameness  of  the  verse. 

JOHNSON. 

I  think,  the  meaning  is, — The  lady  shall  mar  the  measure  of 
the  verse,  rather  than  not  express  herself  freely  or  fully. 

HENDERSON. 

0  Hoiv  chances  it,  they  travel? 3  To  travel  in  Shakspeare's 
time  was  the  technical  word,  for  which  we  have  substituted  to 


sc.  u.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  isi 

dence,  both  in  reputation  and  profit,  was  better 
both  ways. 

Ros.  I   think,   their   inhibition    comes  by  the 
means  of  the  late  innovation.7 

stroll.  So,  in  the  Office-book  of  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  Master  of 
the  Revels  to  King  Charles  the  First,  a  manuscript  of  which  an 
account  is  given  in  Vol.  Ill :  "  1622.  Feb.  17,  for  a  certificate 
for  the  Palsgrave's  servants  to  travel  into  the  country  for  six 
week,  10s."  Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster,  1601  :  "  If  he 
pen  for  thee  once,  thou  shalt  not  need  to  travell,  with  thy  pumps 
full  of  gravell,  any  more,  after  a  blinde  jade  and  a  hamper,  and 
stalk  upon  boords  and  barrel-heads  to  an  old  crackt  trumpet." 
These  words  are  addressed  to  a  player.  MALONE. 

7  /  think,  their  inhibition  #c.]  I  fancy  this  is  transposed : 
Hamlet  enquires  not  about  an  inhibition,  but  an  innovation  :  the 
answer  therefore  probably  was, — /  think,  their  innovation,  that 
is,  their  new  practice  of  strolling,  comes  by  means  of  the  late  in- 
hibition. JOHNSON. 

The  drift  of  Hamlet's  question  appears  to  be  this, — How 
chances  it  they  travel  ? — i.  e.  How  happens  it  that  they  are 
become  strollers  ? — Their  residence  both  in  reputation  and  profit, 
was  better  both  ways — i.  e.  to  have  remained  in  a  settled  thea- 
tre, was  the  more  honourable  as  well  as  the  more  lucrative 
situation.  To  this,  Rosencrantz  replies, — Their  inhibition  comes 
by  means  of  the  late  innovation.— \.  e.  their  permission  to  act 
any  longer  at  an  established  house  is  taken  away,  in  consequence 
of  the  NEW  CUSTOM  of  introducing  personal  abuse  iuto  their 
comedies.  Several  companies  of  actors  in  the  time  of  our  author 
were  silenced  on  account  of  this  licentious  practice.  Among 
these  (as  appears  from  a  passage  in  Have  with  you  to  Saffron 
Walden,  or  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  is  up,  &c.  1596,)  even  the 
children  of  St.  Paul's:  "  Troth,  would  he  might  for  mee  (that's 
all  the  harme  I  wish  him)  for  then  we  neede  never  wishe  the 
playes  at  Powles  up  againe,"  &c.  See  a  dialogue  between  Comedy 
and  Envy  at  the  conclusion  of  Mucedorus,  1598,  as  well  as  the 
preludium  to  Aristippus,  or  the  Jovial  Philosopher,  1630,  from 
whence  the  following  passage  is  taken  :  "  Shews  having  been  long 
intermitted  and  forbidden  by  authority ,  for  their  abuses,  could 
not  be  raised  but  by  conjuring."  Shew  enters,  whipped  by  two 
furies,  and  the  prologue  says  to  her : 

" with  tears  wash  off  that  guilty  sin, 

"  Purge  out  those  ill-digested  dregs  of  wit, 

K  2 


132  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

HAM.  Do  they  hold  the  same  estimation  they  did 
when  I  was  in  the  city  ?  Are  they  so  followed  ? 
Ros.  No,  indeed,  they  are  not. 
\_HAM.  How  comes  it?8  Do  they  grow  rusty? 

"  That  use  their  ink  to  blot  a  spotless  name  : 
"  Let's  have  no  one  particular  man  traduc'd, — 

" spare  the  persons,"  &c. 

Alteration,  therefore,  in  the  order  of  the  words,  seems  to  be 
quite  unnecessary.  STEEVENS. 

There  will  still,  however,  remain  some  difficulty.  The  statute 
39.  Eliz.  ch.  4,  which  seems  to  be  alluded  to  by  the  words — their 
inhibition,  was  not  made  to  inhibit  the  players  from  acting  any 
longer  at  an  established  theatre,  but  to  prohibit  them  from  stroll- 
ing. "  All  fencers,  (says  the  act,)  bearwards,  common  players 
of  enterludes,  and  minstrels,  wandering  abroad,  (other  than 
players  of  enterludes,  belonging  to  any  baron  of  this  realm  or 
any  other  honourable  personage  of  greater  degree,  to  be 
authorized  to  play  under  the  hand  and  seal  of  arms  of  such 
baron  or  personage,)  shall  be  taken,  adjudged,  and  deemed 
rogues,  vagabonds,  and  sturdy  beggars,  and  shall  sustain  such 
pain  and  punishments  as  by  this  act  is  in  that  behalf  appointed." 
This  statute,  if  alluded  to,  is  repugnant  to  Dr.  Johnson's  trans- 
position of  the  text,  and  to  Mr.  Steevens's  explanation  of  it  as 
it  now  stands.  Yet  Mr.  Steevens's  explanation  may  be  right : 
Shakspeare  might  not  have  thought  of  the  act  of  Elizabeth.  He 
could  not,  however,  mean  to  charge  his  frie'nds  the  old  trage- 
dians with  the  new  custom  of  introducing  personal  abuse  ;  but 
must  rather  have  meant,  that  the  old  tragedians  were  inhibited 
from*performing  in  the  city,  and  obliged  to  travel,  on  account 
of  the  misconduct  of  the  younger  company.  See  note  9. 

MALONE. 

By  the  late  innovation,  it  is  probable  that  Rosencrantz  means, 
the  late  change  of  government.  The  word  innovation  is  used  in 
the  same  sense  in  The  Triumph  of  Love,  in  Fletcher's  Four  moral 
Representations  in  One,  wh«re  Cornelia  says  to  Kioaldo : 

" and  in  poor  habits  clad, 

"  (You  fled,  and  the  innovation  laid  aside)." 
And  in  Fletcher's  [Shirley's]  play  of  The  Coronation,  after  Leo- 
natus  is  proclaimed  king,  Lysander  says  to  Philocles : 

"  What  dost  thou  think  of  this  innovation  ?"    M;  MASON. 
*  [Ham.  IIoivcomes.it?  &c.]   The  lines  enclosed  in  crotchet* 
are  in  the  folio  of  1623,  but  not  in  any  of  the  quartos. 

JOHNSOK. 


K.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  133 

Ros.  Nay,  their  endeavour  keeps  in  the  wonted 
pace  :  But  there  is,  sir,  an  aiery  of  children,9  little 

9 an  aiery  of  children,  &c.]     Relating  to  the  play  houses 

then  contending,  the  Bankside,  the  Fortune,  &c.  played  by  the 
children  of  his  majesty's  chapel.     POPE. 

It  relates  to  the  young  singing  men  of  the  chapel  royal,  or  St. 
Paul's,  of  the  former  of  whom  perhaps  the  earliest  mention  oc- 
curs in  an  anonymous  puritanical  pamphlet,  1569,  entitled  The 
Children  of  the  Chapel  stript  andixJtipt:  "  Plaies  will  neuer 
be  supprest,  while  her  maiesties  unfledged  minions  flaunt  it  in 
silkes  and  sattens.  They  had  as  well  be  at  their  popish  seruice 
in  the  deuils  garments,"  £c. — Again,  ibid;  "  Euen  in  her  ma- 
iesties chapel  do  these  pretty  upstart  youthes  profane  the  Lordes 
day  by  the  lasciuious  writhing  of  their  tender  limbes,  and  gor- 
geous decking  of  their  apparell,  in  feigning  bawdie  fables 
gathered  from  the  idolatrous  heathen  poets,"  &c. 

Concerning  the  performances  and  success  of  the  latter  in  at- 
tracting the  best  company,  I  also  find  the  following  passage  in 
Jack  Drum's  Entertainment,  or  Pasquil  and  Katherine,  1601: 
"  I  saw  the  children  qfPotvles  last  night; 
"  And  troth  they  pleas'd  me  pretty,  pretty  well, 
"  The  apes,  in  time,  will  do  it  handsomely. 

" I  like  the  audience  that  frequenteth  there 

"  With  much  applause  :  a  man  shall  not  be  choak'd 
"  With  the  stench  of  garlick,  nor  be  pasted 
"  To  the  barmy  jacket  of  a  beer-brewer. 

" 'Tis  a  good  gentle  audience,"  &c. 

It  is  said  in  Richard  Flecknoe's  Short  Discourse  of  the  English 
Stage,  1664,that  "both  the  children  of  the  chappel  and  St.  Paul's, 
acted  playes,  the  one  in  White-Friers,  the  other  behinde  the 
Convocation-house  in  Paul's  ;  till  people  growing  more  precise, 
and  playes  more  licentious,  the  theatre  of  Paul's  was  quite  sup- 
prest, and  that  of  the  children  of  the  chappel  converted  to  the 
use  of  the  children  of  the  revels."  STEEVENS. 

The  suppression  to  which  Flecknoe  alludes  took  place  in  the 
year  1583-4;  but  afterwards  both  the  children  of  the  chapel  and 
of  the  Revels  played  at  our  author's  playhouse  in  Blackfriars,  and 
elsewhere :  and  the  choir-boys  of  St.  Paul's  at  their  own  house. 
See  the  Account  of  our  old  Theatres,  in  Vol.  III.  A  certain 
number  of  the  children  of  the  Revels,  I  believe,  belonged  to 
each  o^f  the  principal  theatres. 

Our  author  cannot  be  supposed  to  direct  any  satire  at  those 
young  men  who  played  occasionally  at  his  own  theatre.  Ben 


134  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

eyases,  that  cry  out  on  the  top  of  question,1  and  are 
most  tyrannically  clapped  for't :  these  are  now  the 


Jonson's  Cynthia's  Revels,  and  his  Poetaster,  were  performed 
there  by  the  children  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  chapel,  in  1600  and 
1601  ;  and  Eastward  Hoe  by  the  children  of  the  revels,  in  1604- 
or  1605.  I  have  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  dialogue  before 
us  was  pointed  at  the  choir-hoys  of  St.  Paul's,  who  in  1601  acted 
two  of  Marston's  plays,  Antonio  and  Mellida,  and  Antonio's 
Revenge.  Many  of  Lyly's  plays  were  represented  by  them  about 
the  same  time;  and  in  1607,  Chapman's  Biissy  d'Amboisws& 
performed  by  them  with  great  applause.  It  was  probably  in  this 
and  some  other  noisy  tragedies  of  the  same  kind,  that  they  cry'd 
out  on  the  top  of  question,  and  were  most  tyrannically  clapped 
for't. 

At  a  later  period  indeed,  after  our  poet's  death,  the  Children 
of  the  Revels  had  an  established  theatre  of  their  own,  and  some 
dispute  seems  to  have  arisen  between  them  and  the  king's  com- 
pany. They  performed  regularly  in  1623,  and  for  eight  years 
afterwards,  at  the  Red  Bull  in  St.  John's  Street ;  and  in  1627, 
Shakspeare's  company  obtained  an  inhibition  from  the  Master  of 
the  Revels  to  prevent  their  performing  any  of  his  plays  at  their 
house :  as  appears  from  the  following  entry  in  Sir  Henry  Her- 
bert's Office-book,  already  mentioned :  "  From  Mr.  Heminge, 
in  their  company's  name,  to  forbid  the  playinge  of  any  of  Shak- 
speare's playes  to  the  Red  Bull  company,  this  llth  of  Aprill, 
1627, — 5  0  0."  From  other  passages  in  the  same  book,  it  ap- 
pears that  the  Children  of  the  Revels  composed  the  Red-Bull 
company. 

We  learn  from  Heywood's  Apology  for  Actors,  that  the  little 
eyases  here  mentioned  were  the  persons  who  were  guilty  of  the 
late  innovation,  or  practice  of  introducing  personal  abuse  on  the 
stage,  and  perhaps  for  their  particular  fault  the  players  in  ge- 
neral suffered ;  and  the  older  and  more  decent  comedians,  as 
well  as  the  children,  had  on  some  recent  occasion  been  inhibited 
from  acting  in  London,  and  compelled  to  turn  scrollers.  This 
supposition  will  make  the  words,  concerning  which  a  difficulty 
has  been  stated,  (see  n.  7.)  perfectly  clear.  Heywood's  Apology 
for  Actors  was  published  in  1612;  the  passage  therefore  which 
is  found  in  the  folio,  and  not  in  the  quarto,  was  probably  added 
not  very  long  before  that  time. 

"  Now  to  speake  (says  Hey  wood,)  of  some  abuse  lately  crept 
into  the  quality,  as  an  inveighing  against  the  state,  the  court, 
the  latu,  the  citty,  and  their  governments,  with  the  particular- 


sc.  ii.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  135 

fashion ;  and  so  berattle  the  common  stages,  (so 
they  call  them)  that  many,  wearing  rapiers,  are 

izing  of  private  mens  humours,  yet  alive,  noblemen  and  others, 
I  know  it  distastes  many  ;  neither  do  I  any  way  approve  it,  nor 
dare  I  by  any  means  excuse  it.  The  liberty  which  some  arrogate 
to  themselves,  committing  their  bitterness  and  liberal  invectives 
against  all  estates  to  the  mouthes  of  children,  supposing  their  ju- 
niority to  be  a  priviledge  for  any  rayling,  be  it  never  so  violent, 
I  could  advise  all  such  to  curbe,  and  limit  this  presumed  liberty 
within  the  bands  of  discretion  and  government.  But  wise  and 
judicial  censurers  before  whom  such  complaints  shall  at  any  time 
hereafter  come,  will  not,  I  hope,  impute  these  abuses  to  any 
transgression  in  us,  who  have  ever  been  carefull  and  provident 
to  shun  the  like." 

Prynne  in  his  Histriomastix,  speaking  of  the  state  of  the  stage, 
about  the  year  1620,  has  this  passage:  "  Not  to  particularise 
those  late  new  scandalous  invective  playes,  wherein  sundry  per- 
sons of  place  and  eminence  [Gundemore,  the  late  lord  admiral, 
lord  treasurer,  and  others,]  have  been  particularly  personated, 
jeared,  abused  in  a  gross  and  scurrilous  manner,"  &c. 

The  folio,  1623,  has — berattled.  The  correction  was  made 
by  the  editor  of  the  second  folio. 

Since  this  note  was  written,  I  have  met  with  a  passage  in  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Samuel  Calvert  to  Mr.  Winwood,  dated  March 
28,  1605,  which  might  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  words  found 
only  in  the  folio  were  added  at  that  time  : 

"  The  plays  do  not  forbear  to  present  upon  the  stage  the 
whole  course  of  this  present  time,  not  sparing  the  king,  state, 
or  religion,  in  so  great  absurdity,  and  with  such  liberty,  that  any 
would  be  afraid  to  hear  them."  Memorials,  Vol.  II.  p.  54. 

MALONE. 

1 little  eyases,  that  cry  out  on  the  top  of  question, ~\   Little 

eyases;  i.  e.  young  nestlings,  creatures  just  out  of  the  egg. 

THEOBALD. 

The  Booke  of  HauJcying,  &c.  bl.  1.  no  date,  seems  to  offer  ano- 
ther etymology :  "  And  so  bycause  the  best  knowledge  is  by  the 
eye,  they  be  called  eyessed.  Ye  may  also  know  an  eyesse  by  the 
paleness  of  the  seres  of  her  legges,  or  the  sere  over  thebeake." 

STEEVENS. 

From  ey,  Teut.  ovum,  q.  d.  qui  recens  ex  ovo  emersit. 
Skinner,  Etymol.  An  aiery  or  eyrie,  as  it  ought  rather  to  be 
written,  is  derived  from  the  same  root,  and  signifies  both  a  young 
brood  of  hawks,  and  the  nt-st  itself  in  which  they  are  produced. 


136  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

afraid  of  goose  quills,  and  dare  scarce  come  thi- 
ther. 

HAM.  What,  are  they  children  ?  who  maintains 
them  ?  how  are  they  escoted  ?2  Will  they  pursue 
the  quality  no  longer  than  they  can  sing?J  will  they 

An  eyas  hawk  is  sometimes  written  a  nyas  hawk,  perhaps  from 
a  corruption  that  has  happened  in  many  words  in  our  language, 
from  the  latter  n  passing  from  the  end  of  one  word  to  the  be- 
ginning of  another.  However,  some  etymologists  think  nyas  a 
legitimate  word.  MALONE. 

cry  out  on  the  top  of  question,"]  The  meaning  seems  to 

be,  they  ask  a  common  question  in  the  highest  note  of  the  voice. 

JOHNSON. 

I  believe,  question,  in  this  place,  as  in  many  others,  signifies 
conversation,  dialogue.  So,  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice:  "  Think, 
you  question  with  a  Jew."  The  meaning  of  the  passage  may 
therefore  be — Children  that  perpetually  recite  in  the  highest  notes 
of  voice  that  can  be  uttered.  STEEVENS, 

When  we  ask  a  question,  we  generally  end  the  sentence  with 
a  high  note.  I  believe,  therefore,  that  what  Kosencrantz  means 
to  say  is,  that  these  children  declaim,  through  the  whole  of  their 
parts,  in  the  high  note  commonly  used  at  the  end  oj  a  question, 
and  are  jipplauded  for  it.  M.  MASON. 

—  escoted?^     Paid.     From  the  French  escot,  a  shot  or 
reckoning.     JOHNSON. 

3  Will  they  pursue  the  quality  no  longer  than  they  can  sing  ?J 
Will  they  follow  the  profession  of  players  no  longer  than  they 
keep  the  voices  of  boys,  and  sing  in  the  choir  ?  So  afterwards,  he 
says  to  the  player,  Come,  give  us  a  taste  of  your  quality  ;  come,  a 
passionate  speech.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  the  players'  Dedication,  prefixed  to  the  first  edition  of 
Fletcher's  plays  in  folio,  1647  :  "  — directed  by  the  example  of 
some  who  once  steered  in  our  quality,  and  so  fortunately  aspired 
to  chuse  your  honour,  joined  with  your  now  glorified  brother, 
patrons  to  the  flowing  compositions  of  the  then  expired  sweet 
swan  of  Avon,  Shakspeare."  Again,  in  Gosson's  School  of 
Abuse,  1579:  "  1  speak  not  of  this,  as  though  every  one  [of  the 
players]  that  professeth  the  oualitie,  so  abused  himself, — ." 

*'  Than  they  can  sing,"  does  not  merely  mean,  "  than  they 
keep  the  voices  of  boys,"  but  is  to  be  understood  literally.  He 
is  speaking  of  the  choir-boys  of  St.  Paul's.  MALONE. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  137 

not  say  afterwards,  if  they  should  grow  themselves 
to  common  players,  (as  it  is  most  like,4  if  their 
means  are  no  better,)  their  writers  do  them  wrong,5 
to  make  them  exclaim  against  their  own  succes- 
sion ? 

Ros.  'Faith,  there  has  been  much  to  do  on  both 
sides ;  and  the  nation  holds  it  no  sin,  to  tarre  them 
on  to  controversy:6  there  was,  for  a  while,  no 
money  bid  for  argument,  unless  the  poet  and  the 
player  went  to  cuffs  in  the  question. 

HAM,  Is  it  possible  ? 

GUIL.  O,  there  has  been  much  throwing  about 
of  brains. 

HAM.  Do  the  boys  carry  it  away  ? 

Ros.  Ay,  that  they  do,  my  lord  j  Hercules  and 
his  load  too.7] 

*  — •. —  most  like,']     The  old  copy  reads — like  most. 

STEEVENS. 

The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 

6  their  writers  do  them  wrong,  &c.]    I  should  have  been 

very  much  surprised  if  I  had  not  found  Ben  Jonson  among  the 
writers  here  alluded  to.     STEEVENS. 

0  to  tarre  them  on  to  controversy :]     To  provoke  any 

animal  to  rage,  is  to  tarre  him.  The  word  is  said  to  come  from 
the  Greek  ra.%a.<r<rw.  JOHNSON. 

So,  already,  in  King  John.- 

"  Like  a  dog,  that  is  compelled  to  fight, 

"  Snatch  at  his  master  that  doth  tarre  him  on.'* 

STEEVENS. 

7  Hercules  and  his  load  too.']     i.  e.  they  not  only  carry 

away  the  world,  but  the  world-bearer  too  :  alluding  to  the  story 
of  Hercules's  relieving  Atlas.     This  is  humorous. 

WARBURTON. 

The  allusion  may  be  to  the  Globe  playhouse  on  the  Bankside, 
the  sign  of  which  was  Hercules  carrying  the  Globe. 

STEEVENS. 


1 38  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

HAM.  It  is  not  very  strange :  for  my  uncle8  is 
king  of  Denmark ;  and  those,  that  would  make 
mouths  at  him  while  my  father  lived,  give  twenty, 
forty,  fifty,  an  hundred  ducats  a-piece,  for  his  pic- 
ture in  little.9  'Sblood,  there  is  something  in  this 
more  than  natural,  if  philosophy  could  find  it  out. 
[Flourish  of  Trumpets  within. 

GUIL.  There  are  the  players. 

HAM.  Gentlemen,  you  are  welcome  to  Elsinore. 
Your  hands.  Come  then :  the  appurtenance  of 
welcome  is  fashion  and  ceremony :  let  me  comply 
with  you  in  this  garb ; l  lest  my  extent  to  the 
players,  which,  I  tell  you,  must  show  fairly  outward, 
should  more  appear  like  entertainment  than  yours. 


I  suppose  Shakspeare  meant,  that  the  boys  drew  greater  au- 
diences than  the  elder  players  of  the  Globe  theatre.  MALONE. 

8  It  is  not  very  strange:  for  my  uncle — ]     I  do  not  wonder 
that  the  new  players  have  so  suddenly  risen  to  reputation,  my 
uncle  supplies  another  example  of  the  facility  with  which  honour 
is  conferred  upon' new  claimants.     JOHNSON. 

It  is  not  very  strange  :  &c.  was  originally  Hamlet's  observa- 
tion, on  being  informed  that  the  old  tragedians  of  the  city  were 
not  so  followed  as  they  used  to  be :  [see  p.  133,  n.  9.]  but  Dr. 
Johnson's  explanation  is  certainly  just,  and  this  passage  connects 
sufficiently  well  with  that  which  now  immediately  precedes  it. 

MALONE. 

9  in  little.']  i.  e.  in  miniature.     So,  in  The  Noble  Sol- 
diery 1634: 

"  The  perfection  of  all  Spaniards,  Mars  in  little." 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Shepherd's  Sirena : 

"  Paradise  in  little  done." 
Again,  in  Massinger's  Neve  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts  : 

"  His  father's  picture  in  little."     STEEVENS. 

1  let  me  comply  #c.]      Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads — let  me 

compliment  ixith  you.    JOHNSON. 

To  comply  is  again  apparently  used  in  the  sense  of — to  com- 
pliment, in  Act  V :  "  He  did  comply  with  his  dug,  before  he 
sucked  it."  STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  139 

You  are  welcome :  but  my  uncle-father,  and  aunt- 
mother,  are  deceived. 

GUIL.  In  what,  my  dear  lord  ? 

HAM.  I  am  but  mad  north-north  west :  when  the 
wind  is  southerly,2  I  know  a  hawk  from  a  hand- 


saw.3 


Enter  POLONIUS. 

POL.  Well  be  with  you,  gentlemen ! 

HAM.  Hark  you,  Guildenstern ; — and  you  too ; — 
at  each  ear  a  hearer:  that  great  baby,  you  see  there, 
is  not  yet  out  of  his  swaddling-clouts. 

•  •when  the  wind  is  southerly,  &;c.~]     So,  in  Damon  and 


Pythias,  1582: 

"  But  I  perceive  now,  either  the  winde  is  at  the  south, 
"  Or  else  your  tunge  cleaveth  to  the  roofte  of  your 
mouth."     STEEVENS. 

3  7  know  a  hawk  from  a  handsaw.]  This  was  a  com- 
mon proverbial  speech.  The  Oxford  editor  alters  it  to, — 7  know 
a  hawk  from  an  hernshaw,  as  if  the  other  had  been  a  corruption 
of  the  players  ;  whereas  the  poet  found  the  proverb  thus  cor- 
rupted in  the  mouth  of  the  people :  so  that  the  critick's  alteration 
only  serves  to  show  us  the  original  of  the  expression.. 

WARBURTON". 

Similarity  of  sound  is  the  source  of  many  literary  corruptions. 
In  Holborn  we  have  still  the  sign  of  the  Bull  and  Gate,  which 
exhibits  but  an  odd  combination  of  images.  It  was  originally 
(as  I  learn  from  the  title-page  of  an  old  play)  the  Boulogne 
Gate,  i.  e.  one  of  the  gates  of  Boulogne;  designed  perhaps  as  a 
compliment  to  Henry  VIII.  who  took  the  place  in  1544. 

The  Boulogne  mouth,  now  the  Bull  and  Mouth,  had  probably 
the  same  origin,  i.  e.  the  mouth  of  the  harbour  of  Boulogne. 

STEEVENS. 

The  Boulogne  Gate  was  not  one  of  the  gates  of  Boulogne,  but 
of  Calais;  and  is  frequently  mentioned  as  such  by  Hall  and 
Holinshed.  RITSON. 


140  HAMLET,  ACT  11. 

Ros.  Hapily,he's  the  second  time  come  to  them  j 
for,  they  say,  an  old  man  is  twice  a  child. 

HAM.  I  will  prophecy,  he  comes  to  tell  me  of  the 
players ;  mark  it. — You  say  right*  sir :  o*  Monday 
morning ;  'twas  then,  indeed. 

POL.  My  lord,  I  have  news  to  tell  you. 

HAM.  My  lord,  I  have  news  to  tell  you.  When 
Roscius  was  an  actor  in  Rome, 

.  POL.  The  actors  are  come  hither,  my  lord. 
HAM.  Buz,  buz!3 
POL.  Upon  my  honour, 


3  Buz,  buz!]     Mere  idle  talk,  the  buz  of  the  vulgar. 

JOHNSON. 

Buz,  buz!  are,  I  believe,  only  interjections  employed  to  inter- 
rupt Polonius.  Ben  Jonson  uses  them  often  for  the  same  pur- 
pose, as  well  as  Middleton  in  A  Mad  World,  my  Masters,  1608. 

STEEVENS. 

Buz  used  to  be  an  interjection  at  Oxford,  when  any  one  began 
a  story  that  was  generally  known  before.  BLACKSTONE. 

Buzzer,  in  a  subsequent  scene  in  this  play,  is  used  for  a  busy 
talker: 

"  And  wants  not  buzzers,  to  infect  his  ear 
"  With  pestilent  speeches." 
Again,  in  King  Lear: 

" on  every  dream, 

"  Each  buz,  each  fancy." 

Again,  in  Trussel's  History  nf  England,  1635:  "  —  who, 
instead  of  giving  redress,  suspecting  now  the  truth  of  the  duke 
of  Gloucester's  buzz,'*  &c. 

It  is,  therefore,  probable  from  the  answer  of  Polonius,  that 
buz  was  used,  as  Dr.  Johnson  supposes,  lor  an  idle  rumour  with- 
out any  foundation. 

In  Ben  Jonson's  Staple  of  News,  the  collector  of  mercantile 
intelligence  is  called  Emissary  Buz.  MALONE. 

Whatever  may  be  the  origin  of  this  phrase,  or  rather  of  this 
interjection,  it  is  not  unusual,  even  at  this  day,  to  cry  buz  to  any 
person  who  begins  to  relate  what  the  company  had  heard 
before.  M.  MASON. 


ac.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  141 

HAM.  Then  came  each  actor  on  his  assf 

POL.  The  best  actors  in  the  world,  either  for 
tragedy,  comedy,  history,  pastoral,  pastoral-comi- 
cal, historical-pastoral,  [tragical-historical,5  tragi- 
cal-comical-historical-pastoral,] scene  individable, 
or  poem  unlimited :  Seneca  cannot  be  too  heavy, 
nor  Plautus  too  light.6  For  the  law  of  writ,  and 
the  liberty,  these  are  the  only  men.7 


*  Then  came  &c.]  This  seems  to  be  a  line  of  a  ballad. 

JOHNSON. 

*  tragical-historical,  &c.]   The  words  within  the  crotchets 

I  have  recovered  from  the  folio,  and  see  no  reason  why  they 
were  hitherto  omitted.     There  are  many  plays  of  the  age,  if  not 
of  Shakspeare,  that  answer  to  these  descriptions.     STEEVENS. 

6  Seneca  cannot  be  too  heavy,  nor  Plautus  too  light."] 

The  tragedies  of  Seneca  were  translated  into  English  by  Thomas 
Newton,  and  others,  and  published  first  separate,  at  different 
times,  and  afterwards  all  together  in  1581.     One  comedy  of 
Plautus,  viz.  the  Mencechmi,  was  likewise  translated  and  pub- 
lished in  1595.     STEEVENS. 

I  believe  the  frequency  of  plays  performed  at  publick  schools, 
•uggested  to  Shakspeare  the  names  of  Seneca  and  Plautus  as 
dramatick  authors.  T.  WARTON. 

Prefixed  to  a  map  of  Cambridge  in  the  Second  Part  ofBraunii 
Civitates,  &c.  is  an  account  of  the  University,  by  Gulielmus 
Soonus,  1575.  In  this  curious  memoir  we  have  the  following 
passage :  "  Januarium,  Februarium,  &  Martium  menses,  ut 
noctis  teedix  fallant  in  spectaculis  populo  exhibendis  ponunt  tanta 
elegantia,  tanta  actionis  dignitate,  ea  vocis  &  vultus  moderatione, 
ea  magnificentia,  ut  si-  Plautus,  aut  Terentius,  aut  Seneca  revi- 
visceret  mirarentur  suas  ipsi  fabulas,  majoremque  quam  cum 
inspectante  popul.  Rom.  agerentur,  voluptatem  credo  caperent. 
Euripidem  vero,  Sophoclem  &  Aristophanem,  etiam  Athenarum 
suarum  taederet."  STEEVENS. 

7  For  the  law  of  writ,  and  the  liberty,  these  are  the  only  men.~\ 
All  the  modern  editions  have, — the  law  oj~w\t,  and  the  liberty  ; 
but  both  my  old  copies  have — the  law  of  writ,  I  believe  rightly. 
Writ,  for  writing,  composition.     Wit  was  not,  in  our  author's 
time,  taken  either  for  imagination,  or  acuteness,  or  both  together^ 
but  for  understanding,  for  the  faculty  by  which  we  apprehend 


142  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

HAM.  O  Jephthah,  judge  of  Israel, — what  a  trea- 
sure hadst  thou ! 

POL.  What  a  treasure  had  he,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Why — One  fair  daughter,  and  no  more, 
The  which  he  loved  passing  well. 

POL.  Still  on  my  daughter.  \_Aside. 

HAM.  Am  I  rrot  i'the  right,  old  Jephthah  ? 

POL.  If  you  call  me  Jephthah,  my  lord,  I  have  a 
daughter,  that  I  love  passing  well. 

HAM.  Nay,  that  follows  not. 

POL.  What  follows  then,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Why,  As  by  lot,  God  wo/,8  and  then,  you 


and  judge.  Those  who  wrote  of  the  human  mind,  distinguished 
its  primary  powers  into  wit  and  will.  Ascham  distinguishes  boys 
of  tardy  and  of  active  faculties  into  quick  wits  and  slow  wits. 

JOHNSON. 

That  writ  is  here  used  for  writing,  may  be  proved  by  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  Titus  Andronicus: 

"  Then  all  too  late  I  bring  this  fatal  writ."   STEEVENS. 

The  old  copies  are  certainly  right.  Writ  is  used  for  writing 
by  authors  contemporary  with  Shakspeare.  Thus,  in  The  Apo- 
logie  of  Pierce  Pennilesse,  by  Thomas  Nashe,  1593:  "  For  the 
lowsie  circumstance  of  his  poverty  before  his  death,  and  sending 
that  miserable  writte  to  his  wife,  it  cannot  be  but  thou  liest, 
learned  Gabriel."  Again,  in  Bishop  Earle's  Character  of  a  mere 
dull  Physician,  1638:  "  Then  followes  a  writ  to  his  drugger, 
in  a  strange  tongue,  which  he  understands,  though  he  cannot 
conster." 

Again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  II : 

"  Now,  good  my  lord,  let's  see  the  devil's  writ." 

MALONE. 

9  Why,  As  by  lot,  God  wot, — &c."]  The  old  song  from  which 
these  quotations  are  taken,  I  communicated  to  Dr.  Percy,  who 
has  honoured  it  with  a  place  in  the  second  and  third  editions  of 
his  Reliqiu's  of  ancient  English  Poetry.  In  the  books  belonging 
to  the  Stationers'  Company,  there  are  two  entries  of  this  Ballad 
among  others.  "  A  ballet  intituled  the  Songe  of  Jepthah's 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  143 

know,  It  came  to  pass,  As  most  like  it  was, — The 
first  row  of  the  pious  chanson9  will  show  you  more  j 
for  look,  my  abridgment1  comes. 

doughter"  &c.  1567,  Vol.  I.  fol.  162.  Again :  "  Jeffa  Judge  of 
Israel,"  p.  93,  Vol.  III.  Dec.  14,  1624. 

This  story  was  also  one  of  the  favourite  subjects  of  ancient 
tapestry.  STEEVENS. 

There  is  a  Latin  tragedy  on  the  subject  of  Jeptha,  by  John 
Christopherson,  in  1546,  and  another  by  Buchanan,  in  1554. 
A  third  by  Du  Plessis  Mornay,  is  mentioned  by  Prynne,  in  his 
Histriomastix.  The  same  subject  had  probably  been  introduced 
on  the  English  stage.  MA  LONE. 

9  the  pious  chanson — ]     It  is  pons  chansons  in  the  first 

folio  edition.  The  old  ballads  sung  on  bridges,  and  from  thence 
called  Pons  chansons.  Hamlet  is  here  repeating  ends  of  old 
songs.  POPE. 

It  is  pons  chansons  in  the  quarto  too.  I  know  not  whence  the 
rubrick  has  been  brought,  yet  it  has  not  the  appearance  of  an 
arbitrary  addition.  The  titles  of  old  ballads  were  never  printed 
red ;  but  perhaps  rubrick  may  stand  for  marginal  explanation. 

JOHNSON. 

There  are  five  large  volumes  of  ballads  in  Mr.  Pepys's  collec- 
tion in  Magdalen  College  Library,  Cambridge,  some  as  ancient 
as  Henry  VII's  reign,  and  not  one  red  letter  upon  any  one  of 
the  titles.  GREY. 

The  words,  of  the  rubrick,  were  first  inserted  by  Mr.  Rowe, 
in  his  edition  in  1709.  The  old  quartos  in  1604,  1605,  and 
1611,  read,  pious  chanson,  which  gives  the  sense  wanted,  and 
I  have  accordingly  inserted  it  in  the  text. 

The  pious  chansons  were  a  kind  of  Christmas  carols,  contain- 
ing some  scriptural  history  thrown  into  loose  rhymes,  and  sung 
about  the  streets  by  the  common  people  when  they  went  at  that 
season  to  solicit  alms.  Hamlet  is  here  repeating  some  scraps 
from  a  song  of  this  kind,  and  when  Polonius  enquires  what  fol- 
lows them,  he  refers  him  to  thejirst  row  (i.  e.  division)  of  one 
of  these,  to  obtain  the  information  he  wanted.  STEEVENS. 

1  my  abridgment — ]     He  calls  the  players  afterwards, 

the  brief  chronicles  of  the  times;  but  I  think  he  now  means  only 
those  who  ivill  shorten  my  talk.  JOHNSON. 

An  abridgment  is  used  for  a  dramatick  piece  in  A  Midsummer- 
Night's  Dream,  Act  V.  sc.  i : 

"  Say  what  abridgment  have  you  for  this  evening  ?" 


144  HAMLET,  ACT  it. 


Enter  Four  or  Five  Players. 

You  are  welcome,  masters  ;  welcome,  all  :  —  I  am 
glad  to  see  thee  well  :  —  welcome,  good  friends.— 
O,  old  friend  !  Why,  thy  face  is  valanced'2  since  I 
saw  thee  last;  Com'st  thoti  to  beard  me3  in  Den- 
mark  ?  —  What!  my  young  lady  and  mistress!  By-'r- 
lady,  your  ladyship  is  nearer  to  heaven,  than  when 
I  saw  you  last,  by  the  altitude  of  a  chopine.4  Pray 

but  it  does  not  commodiously  apply  to  this  passage.  See  Vol.  IV. 
p.  465,  n.  4.  STEEVENS. 

*  -  thy  face  is  valanced  —  ]  i.  e.  fringed  with  a  beard.     The 
valance  is  the  fringes  or  drapery  hanging  round  the  tester  of  a 
bed.     MALONE. 

Dryden,  in  one  of  his  epilogues,  has  the  following  line  : 
"  Criticks  in  plume,  and  white  valancy  wig." 

STEEVENS. 

*  --  to  beard  me  —  ]   To  beard,  anciently  signified  to  set  at 
defiance.     So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I  : 

"  No  man  so  potent  breathes  upon  the  ground, 
"  But  I  will  beard  him."     STEEVENS. 

4  -  by  the  altitude  of  a  chopine.]   A  chioppine  is  a  high 
shoe,  or  rather,  a  clog,  worn  by  the  Italians,  as  in  T.  Heywood's 


Challenge  of  Beauty,  Act  V.  Song: 
"  The  Italian  i 


in  her  high  chopeene, 
"  Scotch  lass,  and  lovely  froe  too  ; 
"  The  Spanish  Donna,  French  Madame, 

"  He  doth  not  feare  to  go  to." 
So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Cynthia's  Revels: 

"  I  do  wish  myself  one  of  my  mistress's  cioppini."  Another 
demands,  why  would  he  be  one  of  his  mistress's  cioppini  ?  a  third 
answers,  "  because  he  would  make  her  higher." 

Again,  in  Decker's  Match  me  in  London,  1631  :  "  I'm  only 
taking  instructions  to  make  her  a  lower  chopccne  ;  she  finds  fault 
that  she's  lifted  too  high." 

Again,  in  Chapman's  Ccesar  and  Pompry,  1613: 
"  -  .  -  and  thou  shalt 
"  Have  chopincs  at  commandement  to  an  height 
"  Of  life  thou  canst  wish." 


A?.  //.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  145 

God,  your  voice,  like  a  piece  of  uncurrent  gold, 
be  not  cracked  within  the  ring.5 — Masters,  you  are 


See  the  figure  of  a  Venetian  courtezan  among  the  Haliti  An- 
tichi  &c.  di  Cesar e  Vecellio,  p.  114,  edit.  1598:  and  (as  Mr. 
Ritson  observes)  among  the  Diversarum  Nationum  Habitus, 
Padua,  1592.  STEEVENS. 

Tom  Coryat,  in  his  Crudities,  1611,  p.  262,  calls  them 
chapineys,  and  gives  the  following  account  of  them  :  "  There  is 
one  thing  used  of  the  Venetian  women,  and  some  others  dwelling 
in  the  cities  and  townes  subject  to  the  signiory  of  Venice,  that 
is  not  to  be  observed  (I  thinke)  amongst  any  other  women  in 
Christendome :  which  is  so  common  in  Venice,  that  no  woman 
whatsoever  goeth  without  it,  either  in  her  house  or  abroad,  a 
thing  made  of  wood  and  covered  ivith  leather  of  sundry  colors, 
some  with  white,  some  redde,  some  yellow.  It  is  called  a  chapi- 
ney,  which  they  wear  under  their  shoes.  Many  of  them  are  cu- 
riously painted  ;  some  also  of  them  I  have  seen  fairely  gilt:  so  un- 
comely a  thing  (in  my  opinion)  that  it  is  pitty  this  foolish  cus- 
tom is  not  cleane  banished  and  exterminated  out  of  the  citie. 
There  are  many  of  these  chapineys  of  a  great  height,  even  half  a 
yard  high,  which  maketh  many  of  their  women  that  are  very 
short,  seeme  much  taller  than  the  tallest  women  we  have  in. 
England.  Also  I  have  heard  it  observed  among  them,  that  by 
how  much  the  nobler  a  woman  is,  by  so  much  the  higher  are 
her  chapineys.  All  their  gentlewomen  and  most  of  their  wives 
and  widowes  that  are  of  any  wealth,  are  assisted  and  supported 
eytherby  men  or  women,  when  they  walke  abroad,  to  the  end 
they  may  not  fall.  They  are  borne  up  most  commonly  by  the 
left  arme,  otherwise  they  might  quickly  take  a  fall."  REED. 

Again,  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtezan,  1605 :  "  Dost  not 
vreare  high  corked  shoes,  chopines  ?" 

The  word  ought  rather  to  be  written  chapine,  from  chapin, 
Span,  which  is  defined  by  Minsheu  in  his  Spanish  Dictionary  : 
"  a  high  cork  shoe."  There  is  no  synonymous  word  in  the  Ita- 
lian language,  though  the  Venetian  ladies,  as  we  are  told  by 
Lassels,  "  wear  high  heel'd  shoes,  like  stilts,"  &c.  MALONE. 

—  be  not  cracked  within  the  ring."]  That  is,  cracked  too 
much  for  use.  This  is  said  to  a  young  player  who  acted  the  parts 
of  women.  JOHNSON. 

I  find  the  same  phrase  in  The  Captain,  by  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher : 


VOL.  XVIII.  L 


146  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

all  welcome.  We'll  e'en  to't  like  French  falcon- 
ers,6 fly  at  any  thing  we  see  :  We'll  have  a  speech 
straight :  Come,  give  us  a  taste  of  your  quality  j 
come,  a  passionate  speech. 

1  PLAY.  What  speech,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  I  heard  thee  speak  me  a  speech  once,  - 
but  it  was  never  acted ;  or,  if  it  was,  not  above 
once :  for  the  play,  I  remember,  pleased  not  the 
million  ;  'twas  caviare  to  the  general:7  but  it  was 


"  Come  to  be  married  to  my  lady's  woman, 
"  After  she's  crack'd  in  the  ring." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Magnetick  Lady : 

tl  Light  gold,  and  crack*  d  within  the  ring" 
Again,   in    your  Five  Gallants,   1608:    "  Here's  Mistresse 
Rosenoble  has  lost  her  maidenhead,  crackt  in  the  ring." 
Again,  in  Ram- Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611  : 

" not  a  penny  the  worse 

"  For  a  little  use,  whole  within  the  ring." 
Again,  in  Decker's  Honest  Whore,  1635 :  "  You  will  not  let 
my  oaths  be  cracked  in  the  ring,  will  you  ?"     STEEVENS. 

The  following  passage  in  Lyly's  Woman  in  the  Moon,  1597, 
as  well  as  that  in  Fletcher's  Captain,  might  lead  us  to  suppose 
that  this  phrase  sometimes  conveyed  a  wanton  allusion :  "  Well, 
if  she  were  twenty  grains  lighter,  refuse  her,  provided  always 
she  be  not  dipt  within  the  ring."  T.  C. 

6 like  French  Jalconers,~\     The  amusement  of  falconry 

was  much  cultivated  in  France.  In  All's  well  that  ends  well, 
Shakspeare  has  introduced  an  astringer  or  falconer  at  the  French 
court.  Mr.  Toilet,  who  has  mentioned  the  same  circumstance, 
likewise  adds  that  it  is  said  in  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  Tracts, 
p.  116,  that  "  the  French  seem  to  have  been  the  first  and  noblest 
falconers  in  the  western  part  of  Europe ;"  and, "  that  the  French 
king  sent  over  his  falconers  to  show  that  sport  to  King  James 
the  First."  See  Weldon's  Court  of  King  James.  STEEVENS. 

like  Frenchya/c<w<?r.9,]  Thus  the  folio.     Quarto: — like 

friendly  falconers.     MA  LONE. 

7 caviare  to  the  general :]     Giles  Fletcher,  in  his  liusse 

CommonweaMt ,  1591,  p.  11,  says  in  Russia  they  have  divers 
kinds  offish  "  very  good  and  delicate:  as  the  Bcllouga  &  Bel- 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  147 

(as  I  received  it,  and  others,  whose  judgments,  in 
such  matters,  cried  in  the  top  of  mine,8)  an  excel- 


lougina  of  four  or  five  elnes  long,  the  Ositrina  &  Sturgeon,  but 
not  so  thick  nor  long.  These  four  kind  of  fish  breed  in  the 
Wolgha  and  are  catched  in  great  plenty,  and  served  thence  into 
the  whole  realme  for  a  good  food.  Of  the  roes  of  these  four 
kinds  they  make  very  great  store  of  Icary  or  Caveary."  See 
also,  Mr.  Ritson's  Remarks,  &c.  on  Shakspeare,  (edit.  1778,) 
p.  199.  REED. 

Ben  Jonson  has  ridiculed  the  introduction  of  these  foreign  de- 
licacies in  his  Cynthia's  Revels  ;  "  He  doth  learn  to  eat  An- 
chovies, Macaroni,  Bovoli,  Fagioli,  and  Caviare,"  &c. 
Again,  in  The  Muses'  Looking  Glass,  by  Randolph,  1638 : 

" the  pleasure  that  I  take  in  spending  it, 

"  To  feed  on  caviare,  and  eat  anchovies." 
Again,  in  The  White  Devil,  or  Vittoria  Corombona,  1612: 

"  . , one  citizen 

"  Is  lord  of  two  fair  manors  that  call'd  you  master, 

"  Only  for  caviare," 
Again,  in  Marston's  What  you  'will,  1607 : 

" a  man  can  scarce  eat  good  meat, 

"  Anchovies,  caviare,  but  he's  satired."     STEEVENS. 

Florio,  in  his  Italian  Dictionary,  1598,  defines,  Caviarot 
"  a  kinde  of  salt  meat,  used  in  Italic,  like  black  sope  ;  it  is  made 
of  the  roes  of  fishes." 

Lord  Clarendon  uses  the  general  for  the  people,  in  the  same 
manner  as  it  is  used  here :  "  And  so  by  undervaluing  many  par- 
ticulars, (which  they  truly  esteemed,)  as  rather  to  be  consented 
to  than  that  the  general  should  suffer, — ."  Book  V.  p.  530. 

MALONE. 

8 cried  in  the  top  qfmine,~\     i.  e.  whose  judgment  I  had 

the  highest  opinion  of.    WARBURTON. 

I  think  it  means  only,  that  tvere  higher  than  mine. 

JOHNSON. 

Whose  judgment,  in  such  matters,  was  in  much  higher  vogue 
than  mine.  HEATH. 

Perhaps  it  means  only — whose  judgment  was  more  clamorous- 
ly delivered  than  mine.  We  still  say  of  a  bawling  actor,  that  he 
Speaks  on  the  top  of  his  voice.  STEEVENS. 

To  over-top  is  a  hunting  term  applied  to  a  dog  when  he  gives 

L  2 


148  HAMLET,  ACT  ii. 

lent  play;  well  digested  in  the  scenes,  set  down 
with  as  much  modesty 9  as  cunning.  I  remember, 
one  said,  there  were  no  sallets1  in  the  lines,  to 
make  the  matter  savoury;  nor  no  matter  in  the 
phrase,  that  might  indite  the  author  of  affection  :2 
but  called  it,  an  honest  method,3  as  wholesome4  as 

more  tongue  than  the  rest  of  the  cry.  To  this,  I  believe,  Ham- 
let refers,  and  he  afterwards  mentions  a  CRY  of  players. 

HENLEY. 

9 set  down  tvith  as  much  modesty  — ]  Modesty,  for  sim- 
plicity. WARBURTON. 

1 there  mere  no  sallets  #c.]     Such  is  the  reading  of  the 

old  copies.  I  know  not  why  the  later  editors  continued  to  adopt 
the  alteration  of  Mr.  Pope,  and  read, — no  salt,  &c. 

Mr.  Pope's  alteration  may  indeed  be  in  some  degree  supported 
by  the  following  passage  in  Decker's  Satiromastix,  1602 :  "  — a 
prepar'd  troop  of  gallants,  who  shall  distaste  every  unsaltcd  line 
in  their  fly-blown  comedies."  Though  the  other  phrase  was 
used  as  late  as  in  the  year  1665,  in  A  Banquet  of  Jests,  &c. 

" for  junkets,  joci ;  and  for  curious  sallets,  sales." 

STEEVENS. 

* indite  the  author  of  affection  :]    Indite,  for  convict. 

WARBURTON. 

— —  indite  the  author  of  affection  .•]  i.  e.  convict  the  author 
of  being  a  fantastical  affected  writer.  Maria  calls  Malvolio  an 
affectioned  ass :  i.  e.  an  affected  ass  ;  and  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
Nathaniel  tells  the  Pedant,  that  his  reasons  "  have  been  witty, 
without  affection." 

Again,  in  the  translation  of  Castiglione's  Courtier,by  Hobby, 
1556:  "  Among  the  chiefe  conditions  and  qualityes  in  a  waiting- 
gentlewoman,"  is,  "  to  flee  affection  or  curiosity." 

Again,  in  Chapman's  Preface  to  Ovid's  Banquet  of  Sense, 
1595:  "  Obscuritie  in  affection  of  words  and  indigested  concete, 
is  pedanticall  and  childish."  STEEVENS. 

3 but  called  it,  an  honest  method,']  Hamlet  is  telling  hovr 

much  his  judgment  differed  from  that  of  others.  One  said, 
there  "were  no  sallets  in  the  lines,  &c.  but  called  it  an  honest  method. 
The  author  probably  gave  it, — But  I  called  it  an  honest  method, 
Sec.  JOHNSON. 

an  honest  method,']     Honest,  for  chaste.     WARBURTOX. 

4 as  wholesome  &c.]  This  passage  was  recovered  from 

the  quartos  by  Dr.  Johnson.  STEEVKNS. 


ac.  //.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  149 

sweet,  and  by  very  much  more  handsome  than  fine. 
One  speech  in  it  I  chiefly  loved :  'twas  ^Eneas'  tale 
to  Dido ;  and  thereabout  of  it  especially,  where  he 
speaks  of  Priam's  slaughter:  If  it  live  in  your  me- 
mory, begin  at  this  line  ;  let  me  see,  let  me  see  ; — 
The  rugged  Pyrrhics,  like  the  Hyrcanian  beast,5— 
'tis  not  so ;  it  begins  with  Pyrrhus. 

"  Fabula  nullius  veneris,  morataque  recte." 

M.  MASON. 

*  The  rugged  Pyrrhus,  &c.]  Mr.  Malone  once  observed  to 
me,  that  Mr.  Capell  supposed  the  speech  uttered  by  the  Player 
before  Hamlet,  to  have  been  taken  from  an  ancient  drama,  en- 
titled, "  Dido  Queen  of  Carthage."  I  had  not  then  the  means 
of  justifying  or  confuting  his  remark,  the  piece  alluded  to  having 
escaped  the  hands  of  the  most  liberal  and  industrious  collectors 
of  such  curiosities.  Since,  however,  I  have  met  with  this  per- 
formance, and  am  therefore  at  liberty  to  pronounce  that  it  did 
not  furnish  our  author  with  more  than  a  general  hint  for  his  de- 
scription of  the  death  of  Priam,  &c. ;  unless  with  reference  to — 

" the  whiff  and  wind  of  his  fell  sword 

"  The  unnerved  father  falls, ." 

we  read,  ver.  * : 

"  And  with  the  wind  thereof  the  king  felldown ;" 
and  can  make  out  a  resemblance  between — 

"  So  as  a  painted  tyrant,  Pyrrhus  stood ;" 
and  ver.  *  * : 

"  So  leaning  on  his  sword,  he  stood  stone  still.'* 
The  greater  part  of  the  following  lines  are  surely  more  ridicu- 
lous in  themselves,  than  even  Shakspeare's  happiest  vein  of  bur- 
lesque or  parody  could  have  made  them: 

"  At  last  came  Pirrhus  fell  and  full  of  ire, 

"  His  harnesse  dropping  bloud,  and  on  his  speare 

*'  The  mangled  head  of  Priams  yongest  sonne ; 

"  And  after  him  his  band  of  Mirmidons, 

"  With  balles  of  wild-fire  in  their  murdering  pawes, 

"  Which  made  the  funerall  flame  that  burnt  faire  Troy: 

"  All  which  hemd  me  about,  crying,  this  is  he. 

"  Dido.  Ah,  how  could  poor  ^Eneas  scape  their  hands? 
"  JEn.  My  mother  Venus,  jealous  of  my  health, 
"  Convaid  me  from  their  crooked  nets  and  bands : 
"  So  I  escapt  the  furious  Pirrhus  wrath, 
*'  Who  then  ran  to  the  pallace  of  the  King, 


150  HAMLET,  ACTII. 

The  rugged  Fyrrhus, — he,  whose  sable  arms, 
Black  as  his  purpose,  did  the  night  resemble 


"  And  at  Jove's  Altar  finding  Priamus, 
"  About  whose  witherd  neck  hung  Hecuba, 
"  Foulding  his  hand  in  hers,  and  joyntly  both 
"  Beating  their  breasts  and  falling  on  the  ground, 
"  He  with  his  faulchions  point  raisde  up  at  once; 
"  And  with  Megeras  eyes  stared  in  their  face, 
"  Threatning  a  thousand  deaths  at  every  glaunce. 
"  To  whom  the  aged  king  thus  trembling  spoke  :  &C.— 
'*  Not  mov'd  at  all,  but  smiling  at  his  teares, 
"  This  butcher,  whil'st  his  hands  were  yet  held  up, 
"  Treading  upon  his  breast,  stroke  off  his  hands. 
"  Dido.  O  end,  ./Eneas,  I  can  hear  no  more. 
"  JEn.  At  which  the  franticke  queene  leapt  on  his  face, 
"  And  in  his  eyelids  hanging  by  the  nayles, 
"  A  little  while  prolong'd  her  husband's  life : 
"  At  last  the  souldiers  puld  her  by  the  heeles, 
"  And  swong  her  howling  in  the  emptie  ayre, 
"  Which  sent  an  echo  to  the  wounded  king : 
"  Whereat  he  lifted  up  his  bedred  lims, 
"  And  would  have  grappeld  with  Achilles  sonne, 
"  Forgetting  both  his  want  of  strength  and  hands  ; 
"  Which  he  disdaining,  whiskt  his  sword  about, 
*"  And  with  the  wound  thereof  the  king  fell  downe  : 
"  Then  from  the  navell  to  the  throat  at  once, 
"  He  ript  old  Priam ;  at  whose  latter  gaspe 
"  Jove's  marble  statue  gan  to  bend  the  brow, 
"  As  lothing  Pirrhus  for  this  wicked  act : 
"  Yet  he  undaunted  tooke  his  fathers  flagge, 
"  And  dipt  it  in  the  old  kings  chill  cold  bloud, 
"  And  then  in  triumph  ran  into  the  streetes, 
"  Through  which  he  could  not  passe  for  slaughtred  men: 
**  "  So  leaning  on  his  sword  he  stood  stone  still, 

"  Viewing  the  fire  wherewith  rich  Ilion  burnt."  Act  II. 
The  exact  title  of  the  play  from  which  these  lines  are  copied, 
is  as  follows:  The — Tragedie  of  Dido   |   Queen  of  Carthage  \ 
Played  by  the  Children  of  her  I  Majesties   Chappel.  \  Written 
by  Christopher  Marlowe,  and  |  Thomas  Nash,  Gent.  \  — Actors 
f  Jupiter.  |  Ganimed.  \   Venus.  \  Cupid.  \  Juno.  \  Mercurie,    or 
— Hermes,  \  &neas.  \  Ascanius.  \   Dido.  \  Anna.  \  Achates.  I 
Jlioneus.    \    larbas.   \   Cloanthes.     Sergestus.  \    At  London,    | 
Printed,  by  the  Widdowe  Orwin,  for  Thomas  Woodcocke,  and 


se.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  151 

When  he  lay  couched  in  the  ominous  horse, 
Hath  now  this  dread  and  black  complexion  smear*  d 
With  heraldry  more  dismal;  head  to  foot 
Now  is  he  total  gules;6  horridly  trick*  dn 
With  blood  of  fathers,  mothers,  daughters,  sons  ; 
Bak'd  and  impasted  with  the  parching  streets, 
That  lend  a  tyrannous  and  a  damned  light 
To  their  lord's  murder:  Roasted  in  wrath,  and 

fire, 

And  thus  o'er-sized  with  coagulate  gore, 
With  eyes  like  carbuncles*  the  hellish  Pyrrhus 
Old  grandsire  Priam  seeks ; — So  proceed  you.9 

POL.  'Fore  God,  my  lord,  well  spoken  j  with 
good  accent,  and  good  discretion. 

1  PLAY.  Anon  he  finds  him 
Striking  too  short  at  Greeks;  his  antique  sword, 
Rebellious  to  his  arm,  lies  where  it  falls, 
Repugnant  to  command :   Unequal  match* d, 
Pyrrhus  at  Priam  drives;  in  rage,  strikes  wide ; 


|  are  to  be  solde  at  his  shop,  in  Paules  Church-yeard,  at  |  the 
signe  of  the  black  Beare.  1594.  |      STEEVENS. 

6  Notu  is  he  total  gules  ;]  Gules  is  a  term  in  the  barbarous 
jargon  peculiar  to  heraldry,  and  signifies  red.  Shakspeare  has 
it  again  in  Timon  of  Athens  : 

"  With  man's  blood  paint  the  ground  ;  gules,  gules." 
Hey  wood,  in  his  Second  Part  of  the  Iron  Age,  has  made  a 
verb  from  it : 

" old  Hecuba's  reverend  locks 

"  Be  gul'd  in  slaughter — ."     STEEVENS. 

7 tricPd — ]  i.  e.  smeared,  painted.     An  heraldick  term. 

See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  212,  n.  8.     MALONE. 

8  With  eyes  like  carbuncles,]   So,  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost, 
B.  IX.  1. 500  : 

" and  carbuncles  his  eyes."     STEEVENS. 

9  So  proceed  you.'}  These  words  are  not  in  the  folio. 

MALONE. 


152  HAMLET,  ACT  ii. 

But  with  the  whiff  and  wind  of  his  jell  sword 
The  unnerved  father  falls.     Then  senseless  Ilium, 
Seeming  to  feel  this  blow,  with  Jf anting  top 
Stoops  to  his  base ;  and  with  a  hideous  crash 
Takes  prisoner  Pyrrhus*  ear :  for,  lo  !  his  sword 
Which  was  declining  on  the  milky  head 
Of  reverend  Priam,  seem'd  iy  the  air  to  stick : 
So,  as  a  painted  tyrant,*  Pyrrhus  stood  ; 
And,  like  a  neutral  to  his  will  and  mattert 
Did  nothing. 

But,  as  we  often  see,  against  some  storm, 
A  silence  in  the  heavens,  the  rack  stand  still, 
The  bold  winds  speechless,  and  the  orb  below 
As  hush  as  death  :z  anon  the  dreadful  thunder 
Doth  rend  the  region :  So,  after  Pyrrhus'  pause^ 
A  roused  vengeance  sets  him  new  a  work ; 
And  never  did  the  Cyclops*  hammers  fall 
On  Mars' s  armour,3  for g'd  for  proof  eterne, 
With  less  remorse  than  Pyrrhus'  bleeding  sword 
Now  falls  on  Priam. — 

1 as  a  painted  tyrant,"]     Shakspeare  was  probably  here 

thinking  of  the  tremendous  personages  often  represented  in  old 
tapestry,  whose  uplifted  swords  stick  in  the  air,  and  do  nothing. 

MALONE. 

* as  we  often  see,  against  some  storm, 

The  bold  winds  speechless,  and  the  orb  below 
As  hush  as  death:']   So,  in  Venus  and  Adonis : 

"  Even  as  the  wind  is  hush'd  before  it  raineth." 
This  line  leads  me  to  suspect  that  Shakspeare  wrote — the  bold 
wind  speechless.     Many  similar  mistakes  have  happened  in  these 
plays,  where  the  word  ends  with  the  same  letter  with  which  the 
next  begins.     MALONE. 

3  And  never  did  the  Cyclops*  hammers  fall 

On  Mars's  armour,  &c.]  This  thought  appears  to  have 
been  adopted  from  the  3d  Book  of  Sidney's  Arcadia:  "  Vulcan, 
when  he  wrought  at  his  wive's  request  /Eneas  an  armour,  made 
not  his  hammer  beget  a  greater  sound  than  the  swords  pf  those 
noble  knights  did"  &c.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          153 

Out,  out,  thou  strumpet,  Fortune  !  All  you  gods, 
In  general  synod,  take  away  her  power  ; 
Break  all  the  spokes  and  Jellies  from  her  wheel, 
And  bowl  the  round  nave  down  the  hill  ofheaven> 
As  low  as  to  the  Jiends  ! 

POL.  This  is  too  long. 

HAM.  It  shall  to  the  barber's,  with  your  beard. — 
Pr'ythee,  say  on : — He's  for  a  jig,  or  a  tale  of  baw- 
dry,4 or  he  sleeps : — say  on  :  come  to  Hecuba. 

1  PLAY.  But  who,  ah  woe  !5  had  seen  the  mobled 


He's  for  a  jig,  or  a  tale  of  bawdry,"]     See  note  on 


your  only  jig-maker,"  Act  III.  sc.  ii.     STEEVENS. 


A  jig,  in  our  poet's  time,  signified  a  ludicrous  metrical  com- 
position, as  well  as  a  dance.  Here  it  is  used  in  the  former  sense. 
So,  in  Florio's  Italian  Diet.  1598  :  "  Frottola,  a  countriejigg, 
or  round,  or  countrie  song,  or  wanton  verses."  See  The  His- 
torical Account  of  the  English  Stage,  &c.  Vol.  III.  MA.LONE. 

5  But  who,  ah  woe  !"]  Thus  the  quarto,  except  that  it  has — a 
woe.  A  is  printed  instead  of  ah  in  various  places  in  the  old  co- 
pies. Woe  was  formerly  used  adjectively  for  woeful.  So,  in 
Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  Woe,  woe  are  we,  sir,  you  may  not  live  to  wear 
"  All  your  true  followers  out." 
The  folio  reads — But  who,  O  who,  &c.    MALONE. 

c the  mobled  queen — ~\  Mobled  or  mabled  signifies, 

veiled.  So,  Sandys,  speaking  of  the  Turkish  women,  says, 
their  heads  and  faces  are  mabled  in  fine  linen,  that  no  more  is 
to  be  seen  of  them  than  their  eyes.  Travels.  WARBURTON. 

Mobled  signifies  huddled,  grossly  covered.     JOHNSON. 

I  meet  with  this  word  in  Shirley's  Gentleman  of  Venice  : 
"  The  moon  does  mobble  up  herself."     FARMER. 

Mobled  is,  I  believe,  no  more  than  a  depravation  of  muffled. 
It  is  thus  corrupted  in  Ogilby's  Fables,  Second  Part : 
"  Mobbled  nine  days  in  my  considering  cap, 
"  Before  my  eyes  beheld  the  blessed  day." 
In  the  West  this  word  is  still  used  in  the  same  sense ;  and  that 
is  the  meaning  of  mobble  in  Dr.  Farmer's  quotation. 

HOLT  WHITE. 


154  HAMLET,  ACT  ii. 

HAM.  The  mobled  queen  ? 

POL.  That's  good  ;  mobled  queen  is  good. 

1  PLAY.  Run  barefoot  up  and  down,  threatening 

thcjlames 

With  bisson  rheum  ;7  a  clout  upon  that  head, 
Where  late  the  diadem  stood ;  and,  for  a  robe. 
About  her  lank  and  all  o'er-teemed  loins, 
A  blanket,  in  the  alarm  of  fear  caught  up; 
Who  this  had  seen,  with  tongue  in  'venom  steep' d, 
'Gainst  fortune's  state  would  treason  hare  pro- 

nounc'd : 

But  if  the  gods  themselves  did  see  her  then, 
JVJien  she  saw  Pyrrhus  make  malicious  sport 
In  mincing  with  his  sword  her  husband's  limbs ; 
The  instant  burst  of  clamour  that  she  made, 
(  Unless  things  mortal  more  them  not  at  all,) 


The  mabled  queen,  (or  mobled  queen,  as  it  is  spelt  in  the 
quarto,)  means,  the  queen  attired  in  a  large,  coarse,  and  careless 
head-dress.  A  few  lines  lower  we  are  told  she  had  "  a  clout 
upon  that  head,  where  late  the  diadem  stood." 

To  mab,  (which  in  the  North  is  pronounced  mob,  and  hence 
the  spelling  of  the  old  copy  in  the  present  instance,)  says  Ray 
in  his  Diet,  of  North  Country  words,  is  "  to  dress  carelessly. 
Mabsare  slatterns" 

The  ordinary  morning  head-dress  of  ladies  continued  to  be 
distinguished  by  the  name  of  a  mab,  to  almost  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  George  the  Second.  The  folio  reads — the  inobled 
queen.  MALONE. 

In  the  counties  of  Essex  and  Middlesex,  this  morning  cap  has 
always  been  called — a  mob,  and  not  a  mab.  My  spelling  of  the 
word  therefore  agrees  with  its  most  familiar  pronunciation. 

STEEVENS. 

7  With  bisson  rheum  ;~\  Bisson  or  beesen,  i.  e.  blind.  A  word 
still  in  use  in  some  parts  of  the  North  of  England. 

So,  in  ('oriolanus  :  "  What  harm  can  your  bisson  conspectui- 
ties  glean  out  of  this  character  ?"  STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  155 

Would  have  made  milch*  the  burning  eye  of  hea- 
ven, 
And  passion  in  the  gods. 

POL.  Look,  whether  he  has  not  turned  his  co- 
lour, and  has  tears  in's  eyes. — Pr'ythee,  no  more. 

HAM.  *Tis  well ;  I'll  have  thee  speak  out  the 
rest  of  this  soon. — Good  my  lord,  will  you  see  the 
players  well  bestowed  ?  Do  you  hear,  let  them  be 
well  used;  for  they  are  the  abstract,  and  brief 
chronicles,  of  the  time :  After  your  death  you 
were  better  have  a  bad  epitaph,  than  their  ill  re- 
port while  you  live. 

POL.  My  lord,  I  will  use  them  according  to 
their  desert. 

HAM.  Odd's  bodikin,  man,  much  better :  Use 
every  man  after  his  desert,  and  who  shall  'scape 
whipping  ?  Use  them  after  your  own  honour 
and  dignity :  The  less  they  deserve,  the  more 
merit  is  in  your  bounty.  Take  them  in. 

POL.  Come,  sirs. 

\_Exit  POLONIUS,  with  some  of  the  Players. 

HAM.  Follow  him,  friends :  we'll  hear  a  play  to- 
morrow.— Dost  thou  hear  me,  old  friend  j  can  you 
play  the  murder  of  Gonzago  ? 

1  PLAY.  Ay,  my  lord. 

HAM.  We'll  have  it  to-morrow  night.  You 
could,  for  a  need,  study  a  speech  of  some  dozen  or 
sixteen  lines,  which  I  would  set  down,  and  insert 
in't  ?  could  you  not  ? 

1  PLAY.  Ay,  my  lord. 

8 made  milch — ]     Drayton   in   the  13th  Song  of  his 

Polyollrion  gives  this  epithet  to  dew :    "  Exhaling  the  milch 
dew."  &c.    STEEVENS. 


156  HAMLET,  ACT  //. 

.  HAM.  Very  well. — Follow  that  lord ;  and  look 
you  mock  him  not.  \_Exit  Player.]  My  good 
friends,  [To  Ros.  and  GUIL.]  I'll  leave  you  till 
night:  you  are  welcome  to  Elsinore. 

Ros.  Good  my  lord  ! 

\_Exeunt  KOSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

HAM.  Ay,  so,  God  be  wi*  you : — Now  I  am  alone. 
O,  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I ! 
Is  it  not  monstrous,  that  this  player  here,9 
But  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dream  of  passion, 
Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  own  conceit, 
That,  from  her  working,  all  his  visage  wann'd  j1 


9  Is  it  not  monstrous,  that  this  player  here,  ]  It  should  seem 
from  the  complicated  nature  of  such  parts  as  Hamlet,  Lear,  &c. 
that  the  time  of  Shakspeare  had  produced  some  excellent  per- 
formers. He  would  scarce  have  taken  the  pains  to  form 
characters  which  he  had  no  prospect  of  seeing  represented  with 
force  and  propriety  on  the  stage. 

His  plays  indeed,  by  their  own  power,  must  have  given  a  dif- 
ferent turn  to  acting,  and  almost  new-created  the  performers  of 
his  age.  Mysteries,  Moralities,  and  Enterludes,  afforded  no  ma- 
terials for  art  to  work  on,  no  discriminations  of  character  or  va- 
riety of  appropriated  language.  From  tragedies  like  Cambyses, 
Tamburlaine,  and  Jeronymo,  nature  was  wholly  banished;  and 
the  comedies  of  Gammer  Gurton,  Common  Condycyons,  and 
The  Old  Wives  Tale,  might  have  had  justice  done  to  them  by 
the  lowest  order  of  human  beings. 

Sanctius  his  animal,  mentisque  capacius  altce 
was  wanting,  when  the  dramas  of  Shakspeare  made  their  first 
appearance ;  and  to  these  we  were  certainly  indebted  for  the  ex- 
cellence of  actors  who  could  never  have  improved  so  long  as 
their  sensibilities  were  unawakened,  their  memories  burthened 
only  by  pedantick  or  puritanical  declamation,  and  their  manners 
vulgarized  by  pleasantry  of  as  low  an  origin.  STEE  YEN  s . 

1 all  his  visage  wann'd  ;]     [The  folio  toarwzW.]     This 

might  do,  did  not  the  old  quarto  lead  us  to  a  more  exact  and 
pertinent  reading,  which  is — visage  ivan'd  ;  i.  e.  turned  pale  or 
wan.  For  so  the  visage  appears  when  the  mind  is  thus  affection-, 
ed,  and  not  tuarm'd  or  flush'd.  WARBURTON. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          157 

Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in's  aspect,2 

A  broken  voice,  and  his  whole  function  suiting 

s  That,  from  her  working,  alt  his  visage  wann'd ; 

Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in's  aspect, ~]  Wan'd  (wann'd  ll 
should  have  been  spelt,)  is  the  reading  of  the  quarto,  which  Dr. 
Warburton,  I  think  rightly,  restored.  The  folio  reads  warm'd, 
for  which  Mr.  Steevens  contends  in  the  following  note : 

"  The  working  of  the  soul,  and  the  effort  to  shed  tears,  will 
give  a  colour  to  the  actor's  face,  instead  of  taking  it  away.  The 
visage  is  always  warm'danA  flush'd  by  any  unusual  exertion  in  a 
passionate  speech  ;  but  no  performer  was  ever  yet  found,  I  be- 
lieve, whose  feelings  were  of  such  exquisite  sensibility  as  to  pro- 
duce paleness  in  any  situation  in  which  the  drama  could  place 
him.  But  if  players  were  indeed  possessed  of  that  power,  there 
is  no  such  circumstance  in  the  speech  uttered  before  Hamlet,  a8 
could  introduce  the  wanness  for  which  Dr.  Warburton  con- 
tends." The  same  expression,  however,  is  found  in  the  fourth 
Book  of  Stanyhurst's  translation  of  the  JEneid: 

"  And  eke  all   her  visage   waning  with   murther   ap- 
proaching." 

Whether  an  actor  can  produce  paleness,  it  is,  I  think,  unne- 
cessary to  enquire.  That  Shakspeare  thought  he  could,  and  con- 
sidered the  speech  in  question  as  likely  to  produce  wanness,  is 
proved  decisively  by  the  words  which  he  has  put  into  the  mouth 
of  Polonius  in  this  scene ;  which  add  such  support  to  the  original 
reading,  that  I  have  without  hesitation  restored  it.  Immediately 
after  the  Player  has  finished  his  speech,  Polonius  exclaims, 

"  Look,  whether  he  has  not  turned  his  colour,  and  has  tears 
in  his  eyes."  Here  we  find  the  effort  to  shed  tears,  taking  away, 
not  giving  a  colour.  If  it  be  objected,  that  by  turned  his  colour, 
Shakspeare  meant  that  the  player  grew  red,  a  passage  in  King 
Richard  III.  in  which  the  poet  is  again  describing  an  actor,  who 
is  master  of  his  art,  will  at  once  answer  the  objection : 

"  Rich.  Come,  cousin,  canst  thou  quake,  and  change 

thy  colour? 

u  Murder  thy  breath  in  middle  of  a  word  ; 
"  And  then  again  begin,  and  stop  again, 
"  As  if  thou  wert  distraught  and  mad  with  terror? 

"  Buck.  Tut,  I  can  counterfeit  the  deep  tragedian , 
"  Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw,"  &c. 
The  words  quake,  and  terror,  and  tremble,  as  well  as  the  whole 
context,  show,  that  by  "  change  thy  colour,"  Shakspeare  meant 
grow  pale.    MALONE. 


158  HAMLET,  ACT  n. 

With  forms  to  his  conceit  ?  And  all  for  nothing  ! 

For  Hecuba! 

What's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba,3 

That  he  should  weep  for  her  ?  What  would  lie  do, 

Had  he  the  motive  and  the  cue  for  passion,4 

That  I  have  ?  He  would  drown  the  stage  with  tears, 

And  cleave  the  general  ear5  with  horrid  speech  -9 

Make  mad  the  guilty,  and  appal  the  free, 

Confound  the  ignorant ;  and  amaze,  indeed, 

The  very  faculties  of  eyes  and  ears. 

Yet  I, 

A  dull  and  muddy-mettled  rascal,  peak, 


The  word  aspect  (as  Dr.  Farmer  very  properly  observes)  was 
in  Shakspeare's  time  accented  on  the  second  syllable.  The  folio 
exhibits  the  passage  as  I  have  printed  it.  STEEVENS. 

3  What's  Hecuba  to  him,  &c.]  It  is  plain  Shakspeare  alludes 
to  a  story  told  of  Alexander  the  cruel  tyrant  of  Pherae  in  Thes- 
saly,  who  seeing  a  famous  tragedian  act  in  the  Troades  of 
Euripides,  was  so  sensibly  touched  that  he  left  the  theatre  before 
the  play  was  ended ;  being  ashamed,  as  he  owned,  that  he  who 
never  pitied  those  he  murdered,  should  weep  at  the  sufferings  of 
Hecuba  and  Andromache.  See  Plutarch  in  the  Life  of  Pelopi- 
das.  UPTON. 

Shakspeare,  it  is  highly  probable,  had  read  the  life  of  Pelopi- 
das,  but  I  see  no  ground  for  supposing  there  is  here  an  allusion 
to  it.  Hamlet  is  not  ashamed  of  being  seen  to  weep  at  a  thea- 
trical exhibition,  but  mortified  that  a  player,  in  a  dream  ofpas- 
sion,  should  appear  more  agitated  by  fictitious  sorrow,  than  the 
prince  was  by  a  real  calamity.  MALONE. 

4 the  cue Jbr  passion,"]     The  hint,  the  direction. 

JOHNSON. 

This  phrase  is  theatrical,  and  occurs  at  least  a  dozen  times  in 
our  author's  plays.  Thus,  says  Quince  to  Flute  in  A  Midsum- 
mer-Night's Dream  :  "  You  speak  all  your  part  at  once,  cues  and 
all."  See  also  Vol.  XII.  p.  403,  n.  4.  STEEVENS. 

5 the  general  ear — ]  The  ear  of  all  mankind.  So  be- 
fore,— Caviare  to  the  general,  that  is,  to  the  multitude. 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  1S9 

Like  John  a-dreams,6  unpregnant  of  my  cause,7 
And  can  say  nothing  ;  no,  not  for  a  king, 
Upon  whose  property,  and  most  dear  life, 
A  damn'd  defeat  was  made.8     Am  I  a  coward  ? 


6  Like  John  a-dreams,]  John  a-dreams,  i.  e.  of  dreams, 
means  only  John  the  dreamer;  a  nick-name,  I  suppose,  for  any 
ignorant  silly  fellow.  Thus  the  puppet  formerly  thrown  at  dur- 
ing the  season  of  Lent,  was  called  Jack-a-lent,  and  the  ignis  fa- 
tuus  Jack-a-lanthorn. 

At  the  beginning  of  Arthur  Hall's  translation  of  the  second 
Book  of  Homer's  Iliad,  1581,  we  are  told  of  Jupiter,  that — 

"  John  dreaming  God  he  callde  to  him,  that  God,  chiefe 

Godofil, 
"  Common  cole  carrier  of  every  lye,"  &c. 

John-a-droynes  however,  if  not  a  corruption  of  this  nick-name, 
seems  to  have  been  some  well-known  character,  as  I  have  met 
with  more  than  one  allusion  to  him.  So,  in  Have  with  you  to 
Saffron  Walden,  or  Gabriel  Harvey's  Hunt  is  up,  by  Nashe, 
1596:  "  The  description  of  that  poor  John-a-droynes  his  man, 
whom  he  had  hired,"  &c.  John-a-Droynes  is  likewise  a  foolish 
character  in  Whetstone's  Promos  and  Cassandra,  1578,  who  is 
seized  by  informers,  has  not  much  to  say  in  his  defence,  and  is 
cheated  out  of  his  money.  STEEVENS. 

7 unpregnant  of  my  cause,~]      Unpregnant,  for  having  no 

due  sense  of.      WARBURTON. 

Rather,  not  quickened  with  a  new  desire  of  vengeance ;  not 
teeming  with  revenge.  JOHNSON. 

*  A  damn'd  defeat  was  made."]     Defeat,  for  destruction. 

WARBURTON. 

Rather,  dispossession.    JOHNSON. 

The  word  defeat,  (which  certainly  means  destruction  in  the 
present  instance,)  is  very  licentiously  used  by  the  old  writers. 
Shakspeare  in  Othello  employs  it  yet  more  quaintly : — "  Defeat 
thy  favour  with  an  usurped  beard ;"  and  Middleton,  in  his 
comedy  called  Any  Thing  for  a  quiet  Life,  says — "  I  have  heard 
of  your  defeat  made  upon  a  mercer." 

Again,  in  Revenge  for  Honour,  by  Chapman: 

"  That  he  might  meantime  make  a  sure  defeat 
"  On  our  good  aged  father's  life." 

Again,  in  The  Wits,  by  Sir  W.  D'Avenant,  1637 :  "  Not  all 


160  HAMLET,  ACTII. 

Who  calls  me  villain  ?  breaks  my  pate  across  ? 
Plucks  off  my  beard,  and  blows  it  in  my  face  ? 
Tweaks  me  by  the  nose  ?  gives  me  the  lie  i'the 

throat, 

As  deep  as  to  the  lungs  ?  Who  does  me  this  ? 
Ha! 

Why,  I  should  take  it :  for  it  cannot  be, 
But  I  am  pigeon-liver'd,  and  lack  gall 
To  make  oppression  bitter ;  or,  ere  this, 
I  should  have  fatted  all  the  region  kites 
With  this  slave's  offal :  Bloody,  bawdy  villain ! 
Remorseless,  treacherous,  lecherous,  kindless9  vil- 
lain! 

Why,  what  an  ass  am  I?  This  is  most  brave  ;* 
That  I,  the  son  of  a  dear  father  murder'd, 
Prompted  to  my  revenge  by  heaven  and  hell, 
Must,  like  a  whore,  unpack  my  heart  with  words, 
And  fall  a  cursing,  like  a  very  drab, 


the  skill  I  have,  can  pronounce  him  free  of  the  defeat  upon  my 
gold  and  jewels." 

Again,  in  The  Isle  of  Gulls,  1606:  "  My  late  shipwreck  has 
made  a  defeat  both  of  my  friends  and  treasure."  STEEVENS. 

In  the  passage  quoted  from  Othello,  to  defeat  is  used  for  undo 
or  alter:  defaire,  Fr.  See  Minsheu  in  v.  Minsheu  considers 
the  substantives  defeat  and  defeature  as  synonymous.  The  former 
he  defines  an  overthrow  ;  the  latter,  execution  or  slaughter  of 
men.  In  King  Henry  V.  we  have  a  similar  phraseology : 

"  Making  defeat  upon  the  powers  of  France." 
And  the  word  is  again  used  in  the  same  sense  in  the  last  Act 
of  this  play : 

" Their  defeat 

"  Doth  by  their  own  insinuation  grow.'*     MALONE. 

8 kindless — ]      Unnatural.     JOHNSON. 

1  Why,  what  an  ass  am  I?  This  is  most  brave ;]  The  folio 
reads : 

**  O  vengeance ! 

"  Who  ?  what  an  ass  am  I  ?  Sure  this  is  most  brave." 

STEBVENS. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OP  DENMARK.  161 

A  scullion ! 2 

Fye  upon't !  fob  !  About  my  brains  ?3  Humph !  I 

have  heard, 

That  guilty  creatures,  sitting  at  a  play,4 
Have  by  the  very  cunning  of  the  scene 
Been  struck  so  to  the  soul,  that  presently 
They  have  proclaim' d  their  malefactions  j 
For  murder,  though  it  have  no  tongue,  will  speak 
With  most  miraculous  organ.  I'll  have  these  players 
Play  something  like  the  murder  of  my  father, 


2  A  scullion .']  Thus  the  folio.  The  quartos  read,— A  stallion. 

STEEVENS. 

Brain,  go 


a About  my  brains!']      Wits,  to  your  work. 

about  the  present  business.     JOHNSON. 

This  expression  (which  seems  a  parody  on  the  naval  one, — 
about  ship  /)  occurs  in  the  Second  Part  of  the  Iron  Age,  by  Hey- 
wood,  1632 : 

"  My  brain  about  again  !  for  thou  hast  found 
"  New  projects  now  to  work  on." 

About, my  brain!  therefore,  (as  Mr. M. Mason  observes)  ap- 
pears to  signify,  "  be  my  thoughts  shifted  into  a  contrary  direc- 
tion." STEEVENS. 


•  I  have  heard, 


That  guilty  creatures,  sitting  at  a  play,"]  A  number  of  these 
stories  are  collected  together  by  Thomas  Heywood,  in  his  Actor's 
Vindication.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  A  Warning  for  fair  e  Women,  1599 : 

"  He  tell  you,  sir,  one  more  to  quite  your  tale. 

"  A  woman  that  had  made  away  her  husband, 

*'  And  sitting  to  behold  a  tragedy 

"  At  Linne  a  towne  in  Norffolke, 

"  Acted  by  players  trauelling  that  way, 
Wherein  a  woman  that  had  murtherd  hers 
Was  euer  haunted  with  her  husbands  ghost : 
The  passion  written  by  a  feeling  pen, 
And  acted  by  a  good  tragedian, 
She  was  so  mooued  with  the  sight  thereof, 
As  she  cryed  out,  the  play  was  made  by  her, 

"  And  openly  confest  her  husbands  murder."     TODD. 
VOL.  XVIII.  M 


162  HAMLET,  ACT  if. 

Before  mine  uncle  :  I'll  observe  his  looks  ; 
I'll  tent  him5  to  the  quick  ;  if  he  do  blench,6 
I  know  my  course.     The  spirit,  that  I  have  seen, 
May  be  a  devil :  and  the  devil  hath  power 
To  assume  a  pleasing  shape ;  yea,  and,  perhaps, 
Out  of  my  weakness,  and  my  melancholy, 
(As  he  is  very  potent  with  such  spirits,) 
Abuses  me  to  damn  me  :  I'll  have  grounds 
More  relative  than  this  :7  The  play's  the  thing, 
Wherein  I'll  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king. 

[Exit. 

* tent  him — ]     Search  his  wounds.     JOHNSON. 

if  he  do  blench,]     If  he  shrink,  or  start.    The  word  is 

used  by  Fletcher,  in  The  Night-walker ; 

"  Blench  at  no  danger,  though  it  be  a  gallows." 
Again,  in  Gower,  De  Confessione  Amantis,  Lib.  VI.  fol.  128: 

"  Without  blenchinge  of  mine  eie." 

Chaucer,  in  his  Knightes  Taley  v.  1080,  seems  to  use  the  verb 
— to  blent  in  a  similar  sense : 

"  And  therwithal  he  bl-ent  and  cried,  a !"     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  IX.  p.  24-5,  n.  1.     MALONE. 

7  More  relative  than  this:']     Relative,  for  convictive. 

WARBURTON. 

Convictive  is  only  the  consequential  sense.    Relative  is  nearly 
Delated,  closely  connected.    JOHNSON. 


ACTIH.      PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  16S 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 

A  Room  in  the  Castle. 

Enter  King,  Queen,  POLONIUS,  OPHELIA,  ROSEN- 
CRANTZ,  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

KING.  And  can  you,  by  no  drift  of  conference* 
Get  from  him,  why  he  puts  on  this  confusion  j 
Grating  so  harshly  all  his  days  of  quiet 
With  turbulent  and  dangerous  lunacy  ? 

Ros.  He  does  confess,  he  feels  himself  distracted; 
But  from  what  cause  he  will  by  no  means  speak. 

GUIL.  Nordowefind  him  forward  to  be  sounded; 
But,  with  a  crafty  madness,  keeps  aloof, 
When  we  would  bring  him  on  to  some  confession 
Of  his  true  state. 

QUEEN.  Did  he  receive  you  well  ? 

Ros.  Most  like  a  gentleman. 

GUIL.  But  with  much  forcing  of  his  disposition. 

Ros.  Niggard  of  question;  but,  of  our  demands, 
Most  free  in  his  reply.9 

8 conference — ]     The  folio  reads — circumstance. 

STEEVENS. 
9  Niggard  of  question;  but,  of  our  demands, 

Most  free  in  his  reply."]  This  is  given  as  the  description  of 
the  conversation  of  a  man  whom  the  speaker  found  not  forward 
to  be  sounded;  and  who  kept  aloof  when  they  would  bring  him 
to  confession :  but  such  a  description  can  never  pass  but  at  cross- 
purposes.  Shakspeare  certainly  wrote  it  just  the  other  way : 

Most  free  of  question;  but,  of  our  demands, 
Niggard  in  his  reply. 

M  2 


1 64  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

QUEEN.  Did  you  assay  him 

To  any  pastime  ? 

Ros.  Madam,  it  so  fell  out,  that  certain  players 
We  o'er-raught  on  the  way: '  of  these  we  told  him  j 
And  there  did  seem  in  him  a  kind  of  joy 
To  hear  of  it :  They  are  about  the  court ; 
And,  as  I  think,  they  have  already  order 
This  night  to  play  before  him. 

POL.  'Tis  most  true : 

And  he  beseech'd  me  to  entreat  your  majesties, 
To  hear  and  see  the  matter. 

KING.  With  all  my  heart  j  and  it  doth  much 

content  me 

To  hear  him  so  inclined. 
Good  gentlemen,  give  him  a  further  edge, 
And  drive  his  purpose  on  to  these  delights. 

That  this  is  the  true  reading,  we  need  but  turn  back  to  the 
preceding  scene,  for  Hamlet's  conduct,  to  be  satisfied. 

WARBURTOV. 

Warburton  forgets  that  by  question,  Shakspeare  does  not 
usually  mean  interrogatory,  but  discourse;  yet  in  which  ever 
sense  the  word  be  taken,  this  account  given  by  Rosencrantz 
agrees  but  ill  with  the  scene  between  him  and  Hamlet,  as 
actually  represented.  M.  MASON. 

Slow  to  begin  conversation,  but  free  enough  in  his  answers  to 
our  demands.  Guildenstern  has  just  said  that  Hamlet  kept  aloof 
when  they  wished  to  bring  him  to  confess  the  cause  of  nis  dis- 
traction :  Rosencrantz  therefore  here  must  mean,  that  up  to  that 
point,  till  they  touch'd  on  that,  he  was  free  enough  in  his  answers. 

MALONE. 

1  o'er-raught  on  the  way:]  O'er-raught  is  over -reached, 

that  is,  overtook.  JOHJJSON. 

So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  VI.  c.  iii : 

"  Having  by  chance  a  close  advantage  view'd, 
"  He  over-raught  him,"  &c. 

Again,  in  the  5th  Book  of  Gawin  Douglas's  translation  of  the 
i 
"  War  not  the  samyn  mysfortoun  me  over-rcucht." 

STEEVEXS. 


sc.i.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  165 

Ros.  We  shall,  my  lord. 

[Exeunt  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

KING.  Sweet  Gertrude,  leave  us  too  : 

For  we  have  closely  sent  for  Hamlet  hither ; 
That  he,  as  'twere  by  accident,  may  here2 
Affront  Ophelia:3 

Her  father,  and  myself  (lawful  espials,4) 
Will  so  bestow  ourselves,  that,  seeing,  unseen, 
We  may  of  their  encounter  frankly  judge  ; 
And  gather  by  him,  as  he  is  behav'd, 
If't  be  the  affliction  of  his  love,  or  no, 
That  thus  he  suffers  for. 

QUEEN.  I  shall  obey  you : 

And,  for  your  part,5  Ophelia,  I  do  wish, 
That  your  good  beauties  be  the  happy  cause 
Of  Hamlet's  wildness :  so  shall  I  hope,  your  virtues 
Will  bring  him  to  his  wonted  way  again, 
To  both  your  honours. 

2 may  here — ]     The  folio,  (I  suppose  by  an  error  of  the 

press, )  reads — may  there — .     STEE YENS. 

3  Affront  Ophelia  :]     To  affront,  is  only  to  meet  directly. 

JOHNSON. 

Affrontare,  Ital.     So,  in  The  Devil's  Charter,  1607 : 

"  Affronting  that  port  where  proud  Charles  should  enter." 
Again,  in  Sir  W.  D'Avenant's  Cruel  Brother,  1630: 

"  In  sufferance  affronts  the  winter's  rage  ?"    STEE  YENS. 

4  • espials,"]     i.  e.  spies.     So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  I: 

"  -      —  as  he  march'd  along, 
"  By  your  espials  were  discovered 
"  Two  mightier  troops." 
So  also,  Vol.  XIII.  p.  37,  n.  9. 

The  words — "  lawful  espials,"  are  found  only  in  the  folio. 

STEEVENS. 

5  And,  for  your  part,"]    Thus  the  quarto,  1604,  and  the  folio. 
The  modern  editors,  following  a  quarto  of  no  authority,  read— 
for  my  part.     MALONE. 


166  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

OPH.  Madam,  I  wish  it  may. 

[Exit  Queen. 

POL.  Ophelia,  walk  you  here: — Gracious,  so 

please  you, 
We  will  bestow  ourselves  : — Read  on  this  book ; 

[To  OPHELIA, 

That  show  of  such  an  exercise  may  colour 
Your  loneliness.6 — We  are  oft  to  blame  in  this, — 
'Tis   too   much    prov'd,7 — that,  with   devotion's 

visage, 

And  pious  action,  we  do  sugar  o'er 
The  devil  himself. 

KING.  O,  'tis  too  true !  how  smart 

A  lash  that  speech  doth  give  my  conscience ! 
The  harlot's  cheek,  beautied  with  plast'ring  art, 
Is  not  more  ugly  to  the  thing  that  helps  it,8 
Than  is  my  deed  to  my  most  painted  word : 
O  heavy  burden !  [Aside. 

POL.  I  hear  him  coming;  let's  withdraw,  my  lord. 
[Exeunt  King  and  POLONIUS. 

Enter  HAMLET. 
HAM.  To  be,  or  not  to  be,9  that  is  the  question : — 

8  Your  loneliness.]  Thus  the  folio.  The  first  and  second 
quartos  read — -lowliness.  STEEVENS. 

'  'Tis  too  much  proved,]  It  is  found  by  too  frequent  expe- 
rience. JOHNSON. 

8 more  ugly  to  the  thing  that  helps  it,"]  That  is,  com- 
pared with  the  thing  that  helps  it.  JOHNSON. 

So,  Ben  Jonson : 

"  All  that  they  did  was  piety  to  this."     STEEVENS. 

•  To  be,  or  not  to  be,"]  Of  this  celebrated  soliloquy,  which 
bursting  from  a  man  distracted  with  contrariety  of  desires,  and 
overwhelmed  with  the  magnitude  of  his  own  purposes,  is  con- 
nected rather  in  the  speaker's  mind,  than  on  his  tongue,  I  shall 


sc.  /,         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  167 

Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind,  to  suffer 

endeavour  to  discover  the  train,  and  to  show  how  one  sentiment 
produces  another. 

Hamlet,  knowing  himself  injured  in  the  most  enormous  and 
atrocious  degree,  and  seeing  no  means  of  redress,  but  such  as 
must  expose  him  to  the  extremity  of  hazard,  meditates  on  his 
situation  in  this  manner :  Before  I  can  form  any  rational  scheme 
of  action  under  this  pressure  of  distress,  it  is  necessary  to  decide, 
whether,  after  our  present  state,  we  are  to  be,  or  not  to  be. 
That  is  the  question,  which,  as  it  shall  be  answered,  will  deter- 
mine, whether  'tis  nobler,  and  more  suitable  to  the  dignity  of 
reason,  to  suffer  the  outrages  of  fortune  patiently,  or  to  take 
arms  against  them,  and  by  opposing  end  them,  though  perhaps 
with  the  loss  of  life.  If  to  die,  were  to  sleep,  no  more,  and  by 
a  sleep  to  end  the  miseries  of  our  nature,  such  a  sleep  were  de- 
voutly to  be  wished ;  but  if  to  sleep  in  death,  be  to  dream,  to 
retain  our  powers  of  sensibility,  we  must  pause  to  consider,  in 
that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come.  This  consideration 
makes  calamity  so  long  endured ;  for  'who  'would  bear  the  vexa- 
tions of  life,  which  might  be  ended  by  a  bare  bodkin,  but  that 
he  is  afraid  of  something  in  unknown  futurity  ?  This  fear  it  is 
that  gives  efficacy  to  conscience,  which,  by  turning  the  mind 
upon  this  regard,  chills  the  ardour  of  resolution,  checks  the 
vigour  of  enterprize,  and  makes  the  current  of  desire  stagnate 
in  inactivity. 

We  may  suppose  that  he  would  have  applied  these  general 
observations  to  his  own  case,  but  that  he  discovered  Ophelia. 

JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  explication  of  the  first  five  lines  of  this  passage 
is  surely  wrong.  Hamlet  is  not  deliberating  whether  after  our 
present  state  we  are  to  exist  or  not,  but  whether  he  should  con- 
tinue to  live,  or  put  an  end  to  his  life :  as  is  pointed  out  by  the 
second  and  the  three  following  lines,  which  are  manifestly  a  pa- 
raphrase on  the  first:  "  whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind  to  suffer, 
&c.  or  to  take  arms."  The  question  concerning  our  existence  in 
a  future  state  is  not  considered  till  the  tenth  line: — "  To  sleep! 
perchance,  to  dream;"  &c.  The  train  of  Hamlet's  reasoning 
from  the  middle  of  the  fifth  line,  "  If  to  die,  were  to  sleep,"  &c. 
Dr.  Johnson  has  marked  out  with  his  usual  accuracy. 

In  our  poet's  Rape  qfLucrece  we  find  the  same  question  stated, 
•which  is  proposed  in  the  beginning  of  the  present  soliloquy : 

— with  herself  she  is  in  mutiny, 
"  To  live  or  die,  which  of  the  twain  were  better." 

MALONE. 


168  HAMLET,  ACTIII. 

The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune,1 
Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles,2 


1  -  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune  ;]  "  Homines  nos  ut  esse 
meminerimus,  ea  lege  iiatos,  ut  omnibus  telis  fortunes  proposita 
sit  vita  nostra."  Cic.  Epist.  Fam.  v.  16.  STEEVENS. 

*  Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles,"]  A  sea  of  troubles 
among  the  Greeks  grew  into  a  proverbial  usage;  XO,KUY  SaXao-era, 
xaxur/  Tf  jxyu-ia.  So  that  the  expression  figuratively  means,  the 
troubles  of  human  life,  which  flow  in  upon  us,  and  encompass  us 
round,  like  a  sea.  THEOBALD. 

Mr.  Pope  proposed  siege.  I  know  not  why  there  should  be  so 
much  solicitude  about  this  metaphor.  Shakspeare  breaks  his 
metaphors  often,  and  in  this  desultory  speech  there  was  less  need 
of  preserving  them.  JOHNSON. 

A  similar  phrase  occurs  in  Rycharde  Morysine's  translation  of 
Ludovicus  Vives's  Introduction  to  Wysedome,  1544:  "  —  how 
great  a  sea  of  euils  euery  day  ouerunneth"  &c. 

The  change,  however,  which  Mr.  Pope  would  recommend, 
may  be  justified  from  a  passage  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  scene  the 
last: 

"  You  —  to  remove  that  siege  of  grief  from  her  —  ." 

STEEVENS. 

One  cannot  but  wonder  that  the  smallest  doubt  should  be  en- 
tertained concerning  an  expression  which  is  so  much  in  Shak- 
Speare's  manner  ;  yet,  to  preserve  the  integrity  of  the  metaphor, 
Dr.  Warburton  reads  assail  of  troubles.  In  the  Prometheus 
Vinctus  of  ^Eschylus,  a  similar  imagery  is  found  : 


"  The  stormy  sea  of  dire  calamity" 

and  in  the  same  play,  as  an  anonymous  writer  has  observed, 
(Gent.  Magazine,  Aug.  1772,)  we  have  a  metaphor  no  less  harsh 
than  that  of  the  text  : 

"  0oA£60J  8s  Aoyoi  TfaiQ'jar'  BIKI) 

"  Sruyvijf  Tfcof  xup,a<nv  arr,f." 

"  My  plaintive  words  in  vain  confusedly  beat 

"  Against  the  waves  of  hateful  misery." 
Shakspeare  might  have  found  the  very  phrase  that  he  has  em- 
ployed, in  The  Tragedy  of  Queen  Cordila,  MIRROUR  FOR  MA- 
GISTRATES, 1575,  which  undoubtedly  he  read: 

"  For  lacke  of  frendes  to  tell  my  seas  o/'giltlesse  smart." 

MALONE, 


sc.  I.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  169 

And,by  opposing,  end  them? — To  die, — to  sleep,3— - 
No  more ; — and,  by  a  sleep,  to  say  we  end 
The  heart-ach,  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to, — 'tis  a  consummation 
Devoutly  to  be  wish'd.     To  die ; — to  sleep ; — 
To  sleep!  perchance  to  dream; — ay,there'sthe  rub; 
For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come, 
When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil,4 
Must  give  us  pause :  There's  the  respect,5 
That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life : 
For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time,6 


Menander  uses  this  very  expression.    Fragm.  p.  22.    Amstel. 
12mo.  1719: 


"  Ei;  tfsAayof  aurov  sp,£cx.Xst$  yap  tff 

"  In  mare  molestiarum  te  conjicies."     HOLT  WHITE. 

3  -  To  die,  —  to  sleep,"]     This  passage  is  ridiculed  in  The 
Scortiful  Lady  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  as  follows  : 

"  -  be  deceased,  that  is,  asleep,  for  so  the  word  is  taken. 
To  sleep,  to  die;  to  die,  to  sleep;  a  very  figure,  sir,"  &c.  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

4  -  shuffled  off"  this  mortal  coil,]  i.  e.  turmoil,  bustle. 

WARBURTON. 

A  passage  resembling  this,  occurs  in  a  poem  entitled  A  dolfull 
Discours  of  tix>o  Strangers,  a  Lady  and  a  Knight,  published  by 
Churchyard,  among  his  Chippes,  1575  : 

"  Yea,  shaking  off  this  sir/full  soylet 

"  Me  thincke  in  cloudes  I  see, 
"  Among  the  perfite  chosen  lambs, 

"  A  place  preparde  for  mee."     STEEVENS. 

5  -  There's  the  respect,]  i.  e.  the  consideration,     See  Vol. 
XV.  p.  302,  n.  4.     MALONE. 

6  -  the  'whips  and  scorns  of  time,]     The  evils  here  com- 
plained of  are  not  the  product  of  time  or  duration  simply,  but 
of  a  corrupted  age  or  manners.     We  may  be  sure,  then,  that 
Shakspeare  wrote  : 

-  the  "whips  and  scorns  of  th'  time. 

and  the  description  of  the  evils  of  a  corrupt  age,  which  follows, 
confirms  this  emendation.     WARBURTON. 

It   may  be   remarked,  that  Hamlet,  in  his  enumeration  of 


miseries,  forgets,  whether  properly  or  not,  that  he  is  a  prince,  and 
mentions  many  evils  to  which  inferior  stations  only  are  exposed. 

JOHNSON. 

I  think  we  might  venture  to  read — the  "whips  and  scorns  o'thc 
times,  i.  e.  times  satirical  as  the  age  of  Shakspeare,  which  pro- 
bably furnished  him  with  the  idea. 

In  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James  (particularly  in  the  for- 
mer) there  was  more  illiberal  private  abuse  and  peevish  satire 
published,  than  in  any  others  I  ever  knew  of,  except  the  present 
one.  I  have  many  of  these  publications,  which  were  almost  all 
pointed  at  individuals. 

Daniel,  in  his  Musophilus,  1599,  has  the  same  complaint: 
"  Do  you  not  see  these  pamphlets,  libels,  rhimes, 
"  These  strange  confused  tumults  of  the  mind, 
"  Are  grown  to  be  the  sickness  of  these  times, 
"  The  great  disease  inflicted  on  mankind  ?" 
Whips  and  scorns  are  surely  as  inseparable  companions,  as 
publick  punishment  and  infamy. 

Quips,  the  word  which  Dr.  Johnson  would  introduce,  is  de- 
rived, by  all  etymologists,  from  "whips. 

Hamlet  is  introduced  as  reasoning  on  a  question  of  general 
concernment.  He  therefore  takes  in  all  such  evils  as  could 
befall  mankind  in  general,  without  considering  himself  at  present 
as  a  prince,  or  wishing  to  avail  himself  of  the  few  exemptions 
which  high  place  might  once  have  claimed. 

In  Part  of  King  James  Pst.  Entertainment  passing  to  his 
Coronation,  by  Ben  Jonson  and  Decker,  is  the  following  line,  and 
note  on  that  line : 

"  Andjirst  account  of  years,  of  months,  OF  TIME." 
"  By  time  we  understand  the  present"     This  explanation  af- 
fords the  sense  for  which  I  have  contended,  and  without  change. 

STEEVENS. 

The  word  "whips  is  used  by  Marston  in  his  Satires,  1599,  in 
the  sense  required  here : 

"  Ingenuous  melancholy, 

"  Inthrone  thee  in  my  blood ;  let  me  entreat, 
"  Stay  his  quick  jocund  skips,  and  force  him  run 
**  A  sad-pac'd  course,  until  my  "whips  be  done." 

MALONE. 

—  the  proud  man's  contumely,']  Thus  the  quarto.  The 
folio  reads — the  poor  man's  contumely;  the  contumely  which 
the  poor  man  is  obliged  to  endure : 


ae.  i.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          171 

The  pangs  of  despis'd  love,8  the  law's  delay, 
The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns 
That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 
When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 
With  a  bare  bodkin  ?9  who  would  fardels  bear, 


«*  Nil  habet  infelix  paupertas  durius  in  se, 

"  Quam  quod  ridicules  homines  facit."     MALONE. 

—  o/'despis'd  love,"]   The  folio  reads — of  dispriz'd  love. 

STEEVENS. 


•  might  his  quietus  make 


With  a  bare  bodkin  ?  ]  The  first  expression  probably  alluded 
to  the  writ  of  discharge,  which  was  formerly  granted  to  those 
barons  and  knights  who  personally  attended  the  king  on  any 
foreign  expedition.  This  discharge  was  called  a  quietus. 

It  is  at  this  time  the  term  for  the  acquittance  which  every 
sheriff  receives  on  settling  his  accounts  at  the  Exchequer. 

The  word  is  used  for  the  discharge  of  an  account,  by  Webster, 
in  his  Duchess  qfMalfy,  1623  : 

"  And  'cause  you  shall  not  come  to  me  in  debt,- 
"  (Being  now  my  steward)  here  upon  your  lips 
"  I  sign  your  quietus  est." 
Again : 

"  You  had  the  trick  in  audit  time  to  be  sick, 
"  Till  I  had  sign'd  your  quietus." 

A  bodkin  was  the  ancient  term  for  a  small  dagger.  So,  in 
the  Second  Part  of  The  Mirrour  for  Knighthood,  4to.  bl.  1. 
1598 :  "  — Not  having  any  more  weapons  but  a  poor  poynado, 
which  usually  he  did  weare  about  him,  and  taking  it  in  his 
hand,  delivered  these  speeches  unto  it.  Thou,  silly  bodkin, 
shalt  finish  the  piece  of  worke,"  &c. 

In  the  margin  of  Stowe's  Chronicle,  edit.  1614,  it  is  said,  that 
Caesar  was  slain  with  bodkins;  and  in  The  Muses'  LooJcing-Glass, 
by  Randolph,  1638 : 

"  Apho.  A  rapier's  but  a  bodkin. 
Deil.  And  a  bodkin 

Is  a  most  dang'rous  weapon ;  since  I  read 
Of  Julius  Caesar's  death,  I  durst  not  venture 
Into  a  taylor's  shop,  for  fear  of  bodkins." 


Again, 


n  The  Custom  of  the  Country,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher: 


•  Out  with  your  bodkin, 


Your  pocket  dagger,  your  stilletto." — 
Again,  in  Sapho  and  Phao,  1591 :   " there  will  be 


172  HAMLET,  ACTIII. 

To  grunt  and  sweat9  under  a  weary  life ; 

But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death, — 

desperate  fray  between  two,  made  at  all  weapons,  from  the 
brown  bill  to  the  bodkin*' 

Again,  in  Chaucer,  as  he  is  quoted  at  the  end  of  a  pamphlet 
called  The  Serpent  <tf  Division,  &c.  whereunto  is  annexed  the 
Tragedy  ofGorboduc,  &c.  1591 : 

"  With  bodkins  was  Caesar  Julius 

"  Murdered  at  Rome  of  Brutus  Crassus."     STEEVENS. 

By  a  bare  bodkin,  does  not  perhaps  mean,  "  by  so  little  an 
instrument  as  a  dagger,"  but  "  by  an  unsheathed  dagger." 

In  the  account  which  Mr.  Steevens  has  given  of  the  original 
meaning  of  the  term  quietus,  after  the  words,  "  who  personally 
attended  the  king  on  any  foreign  expedition,"  should  have  been 
added, — and  were  therefore  exempted  from  the  claims  of  scutage, 
or  a  tax  on  every  knight's  fee.  MA  LONE. 

9  To  grunt  and  sweat — 3  Thus  the  old  copies.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly the  true  reading,  but  can  scarcely  be  borne  by  modern 
ears.  JOHNSON. 

This  word  occurs  in  The  Death  of  Zoroas,  by  Nicholas  Gri- 
moald,  a  translation  of  a  passage  in  the  Alexandras  of  Philippe 
Gualtier,  into  blank  verse,  printed  at  the  end  of  Lord  Surrey's 
Poems . 

" none  the  charge  could  give : 

"  Here  grunts,  here  grones,  ech where  strong  youth  is 

spent." 
And  Stanyhurst  in  his  translation  of  Virgil,  1582,  for  supre- 

mum  congemuit  gives  us  :  " for  sighing  it  grunts."    Again, 

in  Turbervile's  translation  of  Ovid's  Epistle  from  Canace  to 
Macareus : 

"  What  might  I  miser  do  ?  greefe  forst  me  grunt." 
Again,  in  the  same  translator's  Hypermnestra  to  Lynceus; 

" round  about  I  heard 

"  Of  dying  men  the  grunts." 

The  change  made  by  the  editors  [to  groan']  is  however  sup- 
ported by  the  following  line  in  Julius  Ccesar,  Act  IV.  sc.  i : 

"  To  groan  and  sweat  under  the  business."    STEEVENS. 

I  apprehend  that  it  is  the  duty  of  an  editor  to  exhibit  what  his 
author  wrote,  and  not  to  substitute  what  may  appear  to  the  pre- 
sent age  preferable :  and  Dr.  Johnson  was  of  the  same  opinion. 
See  his  note  on  the  word  hugger-mugger,  Act  IV.  sc.  v.  I  have 
therefore,  though  with  some  reluctance,  adhered  to  the  old 
copies,  however  unpleasing  this  word  may  be  to  the  ear.  On  the 


ac.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  175 

The  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveller  returns,1 — puzzles  the  will ; 


stage,  without  doubt,  an  actor  is  at  liberty  to  substitute  a  less 
offensive  word.  To  the  ears  of  our  ancestors  it  probably  con- 
veyed no  unpleasing  sound  ;  for  we  find  it  used  by  Chaucer  and 
•thers : 

"  But  never  gront  he  at  no  stroke  but  on, 
"  Or  elles  at,  two,  but  if  his  storie  lie." 

The  Monkes  Tale,  v.  14,627,  Tyrwhitt's  edit. 
Again,  in  Wily  Bcguil'd,  written  before  1596: 

"  She's  never  well,  but  grunting  in  a  corner." 

MALONE. 
1   The  undiscover'd  country,  from  whose  bourn 

No  traveller  returns,']  This  has  been  cavilled  at  by  Lord 
Orrery  and  others,  but  without  reason.  The  idea  of  a  traveller 
in  Shakspeare's  time,  was  of  a  person  who  gave  an  account  of 
his  adventures.  Every  voyage  was  a  Discovery.  John  Taylor 
has  "  A  Discovery  by  sea  from  London  to  Salisbury." 

FARMER. 
Again,  Marston's  Insatiate  Countess,  1603  : 

"  . . wrestled  with  death, 

"  From  whose  stern  cave  none  tracks  a  backward  path." 

"  Qui  nunc  it  per  iter  tenebricosum 

"  Illuc  unde  negant  redire  quenquam."     Catullus. 

Again,  in  Sandford's  translation  of  Cornelius  Agrippa  &c.  4to. 
bl.  1. 1569  (once  a  book  of  uncommon  popularity)  "  The  coun- 
trie  of  the  dead  is  irremeable,  that  they  cannot  retourne."  Sig. 
P  p.  Again,  in  Cymbeline,  says  the  Gaoler  to  Posthumus : 
"  How  you  shall  speed  in  your  journey's  end  [after  execution] 
I  think  you'll  never  return  to  tell  one."  STEEVENS. 

This  passage  has  been  objected  to  by  others  on  a  ground 
which,  at  the  first  view  of  it,  seems  more  plausible.  Hamlet 
himself,  it  is  objected,  has  had  ocular  demonstration  that  tra- 
vellers do  sometimes  return  from  this  strange  country. 

I  formerly  thought  this  an  inconsistency.  But  this  objection 
is  also  founded  on  a  mistake.  Our  poet  without  doubt  in  the 
passage  before  us  intended  to  say,  that  from  the  unknown  regions 
of  the  dead  no  traveller  returns  with  all  his  corporeal  potters; 
such  as  he  who  goes  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  brings  back,  when 
he  returns  to  the  port  from  which  he  sailed.  The  traveller  whom 
Hamlet  had  seen,  though  he  appeared  in  the  same  habit  which 
he  had  worn  in  his  life-time,  was  nothing  but  a  shadow ;  "  in- 
vulnerable as  the  air,"  and  consequently  incorporeal. 


174  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of? 
•Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all ; 
And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought ; 
And  enterprizes  of  great  pith2  and  moment, 
With  this  regard,  the  currents  turn  awry,3 


If,  says  the  objector,  the  traveller  has  once  reached  this  coast, 
it  is  not  an  undiscovered  country.  But  by  undiscovered  Shak- 
speare  meant  not  undiscovered  by  departed  spirits,  but,  undisco- 
vered, or  unknown  to  "  such  fellows  as  us,  who  crawl  between 
earth  and  heaven ;"  super  is  incognita  tellus.  In  this  sense  every 
country,  of  which  the  traveller  does  not  return  alive  to  give  an 
account,  may  be  said  to  be  undiscovered.  The  Ghost  has  given 
us  no  account  of  the  region  from  whence  he  came,  being,  as  he 
himself  informed  us,  "  forbid  to  tell  the~ secrets  of  his  prison- 
house." 

Marlowe,  before  our  poet,  had  compared  death  to  a  journey 
to  an  undiscovered  country  : 

"  —  —  weep  not  for  Mortimer, 

"  That  scorns  the  world,  and,  as  a  traveller, 
"  Goes  to  discover  countries  yet  unknown." 

King  Edward  II.  1598  (written  before  1593). 

MA  LONE. 

Perhaps  this  is  another  instance  of  Shakspeare's  acquaintance 
with  the  Bible  :  "  Afore  I  goe  thither,  from  whence  I  shall  not 
turne  againe,  even  to  the  lande  of  darknesse  and  shadowe  of 
death  ;  yea  into  that  darke  cloudie  lande  and  deadlye  shadowe 
whereas  is  no  order,  but  terrible  feare  as  in  the  darknesse." 

Job,  ch.  x. 

"  The  way  that  I  must  goe  is  at  hande,  but  whence  I  shall  not 
turne  againe"  Ibid.  ch.  xvi. 

I  quote  Cranmer's  Bible.     DOUCE. 

*  great  pith — ]  Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos  read, — of 

great  pitcli.     STEEVENS. 

Pitch  seems  to  be  the  better  reading.  The  allusion  is  to  the 
pitching  or  throwing  the  bar; — a  manly  exercise,  usual  in 
country  villages.  RITSON. 

3 turn    awry,]       Thus   the    quartos.      The   folio — turn 

away.     The  same  printer's  error  occurs  in  the  old  copy  of 


sc.i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  175 

And  lose  the  name  of  action. — Soft  you,  now  1 
The  fair  Ophelia : — Nymph,  in  thy  orisons 
Be  all  my  sins  remember 'd.4 

OPH.  Good  my  lord, 

How  does  your  honour  for  this  many  a  day  ? 

HAM.  I  humbly  thank  you  j  well. 

OPH.  My  lord,  I  have  remembrances  of  yours, 
That  I  have  longed  long  to  re-deliver ; 
I  pray  you,  now  receive  them. 

HAM.  No,  not  I ; 

I  never  gave  you  aught. 

OPH.  My  honour' d  lord,  you  know  right  well, 

you  did ; 
And,  with  them,  words  of  so  sweet  breath  com- 

pos'd 

As  made  the  things  more  rich :  their  perfume  lost, 
Take  these  again  ;  for  to  the  noble  mind, 
Rich  gifts  wax  poor,  when  givers  prove  unkind. 
There,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Ha,  ha !  are  you  honest  ? 
OPH.  My  lord  ? 
HAM.  Are  you  fair  ? 
OPH.  What  means  your  lordship  ? 
HAM.  That  if  you  be  honest,  and  fair,  you  should 
admit  no  discourse  to  your  beauty.5 

Antony  and  Cleopatra,  where  we  find — "  Your  crown's  away" 
instead  of — "  Your  crown's  aivry."  STEEVENS. 

4  Nymph,  in  thy  orisons  &c.~]    This  is  a  touch  of  nature. 

Hamlet,  at  the  sight  of  Ophelia,  does  not  immediately  recollect, 
that  he  is  to  personate  madness,  but  makes  her  an  address  grave 
and  solemn,  such  as  the  foregoing  meditation  excited  in  his 
thoughts.  JOHNSON. 

s  That  if  you  be  honest,  and  fair,  you  should  admit  no  dis- 
course to  your  beauty.^     This  is  the  reading  of  all  the  modern 


176  HAMLET,  AcTiif. 

OPH.  Could  beauty,  my  lord,  have  better  com- 
merce than  with  honesty  ? 

HAM.  Ay,  truly ;  for  the  power  of  beauty  will 
sooner  transform  honesty  from  what  it  is  to  a  bawd, 
than  the  force  of  honesty  can  translate  beauty  into 
his  likeness  ;6  this  was  some  time  a  paradox,  but  now 
the  time  gives  it  proof.  I  did  love  you  once. 

OPH.  Indeed,  my  lord,  you  made  me  believe  so. 

,  HAM.  You  should  not  have  believed  me :  for 
virtue  cannot  so  inoculate7  our  old  stock,  but  we 
shall  relish  of  it :  I  loved  you  not. 

OPH.  I  was  the  more  deceived. 

editions,  and  is  copied  from  the  quarto.  The  folio  reads — your 
honesty  should  admit  no  discourse  to  your  beauty.  The  true 
reading  seems  to  be  this, — if  you  be  honest  and  fair,  you  should 
admit  your  honesty  to  no  discourse  with  your  beauty.  This  is 
the  sense  evidently  required  by  the  process  of  the  conversation. 

JOHNSON. 

That  if  you  be  honest  and  fair,  you  should  admit  no  discourse 
to  your  beauty.]  The  reply  of  Ophelia  proves  beyond  doubt, 
that  this  reading  is  wrong. 

The  reading  of  the  folio  appears  to  be  the  right  one,  and  re- 
quires no  amendment. — "  Your  honesty  should  admit  no  dis- 
course to  your  beauty,"  means, — "  Your  honesty  should  not 
admit  your  beauty  to  any  discourse  with  her;"  which  is  the 
very  sense  that  Johnson  contends  for,  and  expressed  with  suffi- 
cient clearness.  M.  MASON. 

" rara  est  concordia  formac 

"  Atque  pudicitiae."     Ovid.     STEEVENS. 

6  into  his  likeness :~]    The  modern  editors  read — its  like- 
ness ;  but  the  text  is  right.     Shakspeare  and  his  contemporaries 
frequently  use  the  personal  for  the  neutral  pronoun.  So  Spenser, 
Fairy  Queen,  Book  III.  c.  ix : 

"  Then  forth  it  break ;  and  with  his  furious  blast, 
"  Confounds  both  land  and  seas,  and  skies  doth  overcast." 
See  p.  68,  n.  4.     MALONE. 

7  inoculate — ~]     This  is  the  reading  of  the  first  folio. 

The  first  quarto  reads  euocutat;  the  second  euacuat;  and  the 
third,  evacuate.     STEEVENS. 


**7.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  177 

HAM.  Get  thee  to  a  nunnery;  Why  would'st 
thou  be  a  breeder  of  sinners  ?  I  am  myself  indif- 
ferent honest ;  but  yet  I  could  accuse  me  of  such 
things,  that  it  were  better,  my  mother  had  not 
borne  me:8  I  am  very  proud,  revengeful,  ambitious; 
with  more  offences  at  my  beck,  than  I  have 
thoughts  to  put  them  in,9  imagination  to  give  them 
shape,  or  time  to  act  them  in  :  What  should  such 
fellows  as  I  do  crawling  between  earth  and  heaven ! 
We  are  arrant  knaves,  all;  believe  none  of  us:  Go 
thy  ways  to  a  nunnery.  Where's  your  father  ? 

OPH.  At  home,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Let  the  doors  be  shut  upon  him ;  that  he 
may  play  the  fool  no  where  but  in's  own  house. 
Farewell. 

OPH.  O,  help  him,  you  sweet  heavens ! 

HAM*  If  thou  dost  marry,  I'll  give  thee  this 
plague  for  thy  dowry ;  Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as 
pure  as  snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny.  Get 
thee  to  a  nunnery ;  farewell :  Or,  if  thou  wilt  needs 
marry,  marry  a  fool ;  for  wise  men  know  well 
enough,  what  monsters  you  make  of  them.  To  a 
nunnery,  go  ;  and  quickly  too.  Farewell. 

OPH.  Heavenly  powers,  restore  him  ! 

HAM.  I  have  heard  of  your  paintings  too,  well 

8 /  could  accuse  me  of  such  things,  that  it  were  better,  my 

mother  had  not  borne  me:~\     So,  in  our  poet's  88th  Sonnet : 

" I  can  set  down  a  story 

"  Of  faults  conceal'd,  wherein  I  am  attainted." 

MALONE. 

9 taith  more  offences  at  my  beck,  than  /  have  thoughts  to 

put  them  in,  3     To  put  a  thing  into  thought,  is  to  think  on  it. 

JOHNSON. 

•  at  my  beck,~]    That  is,  always  ready  to  come  about  me. 

STEEVENS. 

VOL.  XVIII.  N 


178  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

enough ;'  God  hath  given  you  one  face,  and  you 
make  yourselves  another  :2  you  jig,  you  amble,  and 
you  lisp,  and  nick-name  God's  creatures,  and  make 
your  wantonness  your  ignorance  :3  Go  to ;  I'll  no 
more  oft;  it  hath  made  me  mad.  I  say,  we  will 
have  no  more  marriages :  those  that  are  married 
already,  all  but  one,  shall  live  ; 4  the  rest  shall  keep 
as  they  are.  To  a  nunnery,  go.  [Exit  HAMLET. 

QPH.  O,  what  a  noble  mind  is  here  o'erthrown  ! 
The  courtier's,  soldier's,  scholar's,   eye,  tongue, 
sword : 5 

1  I  have  heard  of  your  paintings  too,  ivell  enough ;  &c.]  This 
is  according  to  the  quarto;  the  folio,  for  painting,  has  prattlingst 
and  forjace,  has  pace,  which  agrees  with  what  follows,  you  jig, 
you  amble.  Probably  the  author  wrote  both.  I  think  the  com- 
mon reading  best.  JOHNSON. 

I  would  continue  to  read  paintings,  because  these  destructive 
aids  of  beauty  seem,  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  to  have  been 
general  objects  of  satire.  So,  in  Drayton's  Mooncalf: 

" No  sooner  got  the  teens, 

"  But  her  own  natural  beauty  she  disdains ; 

"  With  oyls  and  broths  most  venomous  and  base 

"  She  plaisters  over  her  well-favour'd  face ; 

"  And  those  sweet  veins  by  nature  rightly  plac'd 

"  Wherewith  she  seems  that  white  skin  to  have  lac'd, 

"  She  soon  doth  alter ;  and,  with  fading  blue, 

"  Blanching  her  bosom,  she  makes  others  new." 

STEEVENS. 

* God  hath  given  you  one  face,  and  you  make  yourselves 

another:]  In  Guzman  de  Alfarache,  1623,  p.  13,  we  have  an  in- 
vective against  painting  in  which  is  a  similar  passage  :  "  O  fil- 
thinesse,  above  all  filthinesse !  O  affront,  above  all  other  affronts! 
that  God  hath  given  thee  one  face,  thou  shouldst  abuse  his  image 
and  make  thyselfe  another."  REED. 

3 make  your  wantonness  your  ignorance:"]     You  mistake 

by  wanton  affectation,  and  pretend  to  mistake  by  ignorance, 

JOHNSON. 

* all  but  one,  shall  live;]   By  the  one  who  shall  not  live, 

he  means  his  step-father.     MA  LONE. 


sc.  f.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  179 

The  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  state, 
The  glass  of  fashion/  and  the  mould  of  form,7 
The  observ'd  of  all  observers !  quite,  quite  down ! 
And  I,  of  ladies  most  deject8  and  wretched, 
That  suck'd  the  honey  of  his  musick  vows, 
Now  see  that  noble  and  most  sovereign  reason, 
Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune9  and  harsh  ; 
That  unmatched  form  and  feature1  of  blown  youth, 
Blasted  with  ecstasy  :2  O,  woe  is  me ! 
To  have  seen  what  I  have  seen,  see  what  I  see ! 


*  The  courtier's,  soldier's,  scholar's,  eye,  tongue,  siuord;~\  The 
poet  certainly  meant  to  have  placed  his  words  thus : 

The  courtier's,  scholar's,  soldier's,  eye,  tongue,  stvord; 
otherwise  the  excellence  of  tongue  is  appropriated  to  the  soldier, 
and  the  scholar  wears  the  sword.     WARNER. 

This  regulation  is  needless.     So,  in  Tarquin  and  Lucrece: 
"  Princes  are  the  glass,  the  school,  the  book, 
"  Where  subjects  eyes  do  learn,  do  read,  do  look." 
And  in  Quintilian :  "  Multum  agit  sexus,  aetas,  conditio  ;  ut 
injbeminis,  senibus,  pupillis,  liberos,  parentes,  conjuges  alliganti- 
bus."     FARMER. 

*  The  glass  of  fashion, ~\  "  Speculum  consuetudinis."   Cicero. 

STEEVENS. 

—  the  mould  of  form, ~\     The  model  by  whom  all  endea- 
voured to  form  themselves.     JOHNSON. 

6 most  deject — ]     So,  in  Hey  wood's  Silver  Age,  1613  : 

" What  knight  is  that 

"  So  passionately  deject?"     STEEVENS. 

9 out  of  tune — ]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quarto — out  of 

lime.     STEEVENS. 

These  two  words  in  the  hand- writing  of  Shakspeare's  age  are 
almost  indistinguishable,  and  hence  are  frequently  confounded  in 
the  old  copies.  See  Vol.  V.  p.  300,  n.  3.  MALONE. 


and  feature — ]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos  read- 


stature.     STEEVENS. 


tKith  ecstacy :]     The  word  ecstacy  was  anciently  used 


to  signify  some  degree  of  alienation  of  mind. 

So,  Gawin  Douglas  translating — stetit  acrijlxa  dolore: 
"  In  ecstacy  she  stood,  and  mad  almaist." 

N  2 


180  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 


Re-enter  King  and  POLONIUS. 

KING.  Love !  his  affections  do  not  that  way  tend; 
Nor  what  he  spake,  though  it  lack'd  form  a  little, 
Was  not  like  madness.     There's  something  in  his 

soul, 

O'er  which  his  melancholy  sits  on  brood ; 
And,  I  do  doubt,  the  hatch,  and  the  disclose,3 
Will  be  some  danger :  Which  for  to  prevent, 
I  have,  in  quick  determination, 
Thus  set  it  down  ;  He  shall  with  speed  to  England, 
For  the  demand  of  our  neglected  tribute  : 
Haply,  the  seas,  and  countries  different, 
With  variable  objects,  shall  expel 
This  something-settled  matter  in  his  heart ; 
Whereon  his  brains  still  beating,  puts  him  thus 
From  fashion  of  himself.     What  think  you  on't  ? 

POL.  It  shall  do  well :  But  yet  I  do  believe, 
The  origin  and  commencement  of  his  grief 
Sprung  from  neglected  love. — How  now,  Ophelia  ? 
You  need  not  tell  us  what  lord  Hamlet  said  ; 
We  heard  it  all. — My  lord,  do  as  you  please ; 
But,  if  you  hold  it  fit,  after  the  play, 

See  Vol.  IV.  p.  122,  n.  4 ;  and  Vol.  X.  p.  162,  n.  2. 

STEEVENS, 

* the  disclose,]     This  was  the  technical  term.     So,  in 

The  Maid  of  Honour,  by  Massinger : 

"  One  aierie  with  proportion  ne'er  discloses 
"  The  eagle  and  the  wren."     MALONE. 

Disclose,  (says  Handle  Holme,  in  his  Academy  of  Armory 
and  Blazon,  Book  II.  ch.  ii.  p.  238,)  is  when  the  young  just 
peeps  through  the  shell.  It  is  also  taken  for  laying,  hatching^ 
0r  bringing  forth  young :  as  "  she  disclosed  three  birds.'* 

Again,  m  the  nfth  Act  of  the  play  now  before  us : 
"  Ere  that  her  golden  couplets  are  disclosed." 
See  my  note  on  this  passage.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  II.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  181 

Let  his  queen  mother  all  alone  entreat  him 
To  show  his  grief;  let  her  be  round  with  him  ;4 
And  I'll  be  plac'd,  so  please  you,  in  the  ear 
Of  all  their  conference :  If  she  find  him  not, 
To  England  send  him ;  or  confine  him,  where 
Your  wisdom  best  shall  think. 

KING.  It  shall  be  so : 

Madness  in  great  ones  must  not  un watch' d  go. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  II. 

A  Hall  in  the  same. 
Enter  HAMLET,  and  certain  Players. 

HAM.  Speak  the  speech,  I  pray  you,  as  I  pro- 
nounced it  to  you,  trippingly  on  the  tongue  :  but 
if  you  mouth  it,  as  many  of  our  players  do,  I  had 
as  lief  the  town-crier  spoke  my  lines.  Nor  do  not 
saw  the  air  too  much  with  your  hand,  thus ;  but 
use  all  gently :  for  in  the  very  torrent,  tempest,  and 
(as  I  may  say)  whirlwind  of  your  passion,  you  must 
acquire  and  beget  a  temperance,  that  may  give  it 
smoothness.  O,  it  offends  me  to  the  soul,  to  hear 
a  robustious  periwig-pated5  fellow  tear  a  passion 

4 be  round  with  him  ;~\     To  be  round  with  a  person,  is  to 

reprimand  him  with  freedom.  So,  in  A  Mad  World,  my  Masters, 
by  Middleton,  1608 :  "She's  round  with  her  i'faith."  MALONE. 

See  Comedy  of  Errors,  Vol.  XX.  Act  II.  sc.  i.     STEEVENS, 

*  periwig-pated — ]  This  is  a  ridicule  on  the  quantity  of 

false  hair  worn  in  Shakspeare's  time,  for  wigs  were  not  in  com- 
mon use  till  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  In  The  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Veronciy  Julia  says — "  I'll  get  me  such  a  colour'd  periwig." 


182  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

to  tatters,  to  very  rags,  to  split  the  ears  of  the 
groundlings  ;6  who,  for  the  most  part,  are  capable 

Goff\  who  wrote  several  plays  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  and 
was  no  mean  scholar,  has  the  following  lines  in  his  Tragedy  of 
The  Courageous  Turk,  1632: 

*' How  now,  you  heavens ; 

"  Grow  you  so  proud  you  must  needs  put  on  curl'd  locks, 
*'  And  clothe  yourselves  in  perriivigs  of  h're  ?" 
Players,  however,  seem  to  have  worn  them  most  generally. 
So,  in  Every   Woman  in  her  Humour,  1609:  "  — as  none  wear 
hoods  but  monks  and  ladies ;  and  feathers  but  fore-horses,  &c. 
— none  perriiuigs  but  players  and  pictures."     STEE  YENS. 

6 the  groundlings j~]  The  meaner  people  then  seem  to 

have  sat  below,  as  they  now  sit  in  the  upper  gallery,  who,  not 
well  understanding  poetical  language,  were  sometimes  gratified 
by  a  mimical  and  mute  representation  of  the  drama,  previous  to 
the  dialogue.  JOHNSON. 

Before  each  act  of  the  tragedy  of  Jocasta,  translated  from 
Euripides,  by  George  Gascoigne  and  Francis  Kinwelmersh,  the 
order  of  these  dumb  shows  is  very  minutely  described.  This 
play  was  presented  at  Gray's-Inn  by  them,  in  1566.  The  mute 
exhibitions  included  in  it  are  chiefly  emblematical,  nor  do  they 
display  a  picture  of  one  single  scene  which  is  afterwards  per* 
formed  on  the  stage.  In  some  other  pieces  I  have  observed,  that 
they  serve  to  introduce  such  circumstances  as  the  limits  of  a 
play  would  not  admit  to  be  represented. 

Thus,  in  Herod  and  Antipatcr,  1622: 
Let  me  now 


Intreat  your  worthy  patience  to  contain 
Much  in  imagination  ;  and,  what  words 
Cannot  have  time  to  utter,  let  your  eyes 
Out  of  this  DUMB  SHOW  tell  your  memories." 
In  short,  dumb  shows  sometimes  supplied  deficiencies,  and,  at 
others-,  filled  up  the  space  of  time  which  was  necessary  to  pass 
while  business  was  supposed  to  be  transacted  in  foreign  parts. 
With  this  method  of  preserving  one  of  the  unities,  our  ancestors 
appear  to  have  been  satisfied. 

Ben  Jonson  mentions  the  groundlings  with  equal  contempt : 
"  The  understanding  gentlemen  of  the  ground  here." 

Again,  in  The  Case  is  Altered,  1609  :  "  —  a  rude  barbarous 
crew  that  have  no  brains,  and  yet  grounded  judgements ;  they 
will  hiss  any  thing  that  mounts  above  their  grounded  capaci- 
ties." 


sc.  n.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  183 

of  nothing  but  inexplicable  dumb  shows,  and 
noise : 7  I  would  have  such  a  fellow  whipped  for 
o'er-doing  Termagant;8  it  out-herods  Herod:9 
Pray  you,  avoid  it. 


Again,  in  Lady  Alimony,  1659  :  "  Be  your  stage- cur  tains  ar- 
tificially drawn,  and  so  covertly  shrowded  that  the  squint-eyed 
groundling  may  not  peep  in  ?" 

In  our  early  play-houses  the  pit  had  neither  floor  nor  benches. 
Hence  the  term  of  groundlings  for  those  who  frequented  it. 

The  groundling,  in  its  primitive  signification,  means  a  fish 
which  always  keeps  at  th  e  bottom  of  the  water.  STEEVENS. 

7 who,  for  the  most  part,  are  capable  of  nothing  but  inex- 
plicable dumb  shows,  and  noise:']  i.  e.  have  a  capacity  for  nothing 
but  dumb  shows  ;  understand  nothing  else.  So,  in  Heywood's 
History  of  Women,  1624  :  "  I  have  therein  imitated  our  histori- 
cal and  comical  poets,  that  write  to  the  stage  ;  who,  lest  the  au- 
ditory should  be  dulled  with  serious  discourses,  in  every  act  pre- 
sent some  zany,  with  his  rnimick  gesture,  to  breed  in  the  less  ca- 
pable mirth  and  laughter."  See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  380,  n.  4. 

MA  LONE. 

inexplicable  dumb  shows,~\     I  believe  the  meaning   is, 

shows,  'without  words  to  explain  them.     JOHNSON. 

-.  Rather,  I  believe,  shows  which  are  too  confusedly  conducted 
to  explain  themselves. 

I  meet  with  one  of  these  in  Heywood's  play  of   The  Four 
Prentices  of  London,  1615,  where  the  Presenter  says  : 
"  I  must  entreat  your  patience  to  forbear 
"  While  we  do  feast  your  eye  and  starve  your  ear. 
•*'  For  in  dumb  shews,  which,  were  they  writ  at  large, 
"  Would  ask  a  long  and  tedious  circumstance, 
"  Their  infant  fortunes  I  will  soon  express:"  &c. 
Then  follow  the  dumb  shows,  which  well  deserve  the  character 
Hamlet  has  already  given  of  this  species  of  entertainment,  as 
may  be  seen  from  the  following  passage:  "  Enter  Tancred,  with 
Bella  Franca  richly  attired,  she  somewhat  affecting  him,  though 
she  makes  no  show  of  it."     Surely  this  may  be  called  an  inexpli- 
cable dumb  show.     STEEVENS. 

8 Termagant ;  ]  Termagaunt  ( says  Dr.  Percy )  is  the  name 

given  in  the  old  romances  to  the  god  of  the  Sarazens ;  in  which 
he  is  constantly  linked  with  Mahound,  or  Mohammed.  Thus,  in 
the  legend  of  SYR  GUY,  the  Soudan  swears: 


184  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

1  PLAY.  I  warrant  your  honour. 

HAM.  Be  not  too  tame  neither,  but  let  your  own 

"  So  helpe  me  Mahowne  of  might, 

"  And  Termagaunt  my  God  so  bright.'* 
So  also,  in  Hull's  first  Satire : 

"  Nor  fright  the  reader  with  the  Pagan  vaunt 

"  Of  migntie  Mahound,  and  greate  Termagaunt.'* 
Again,  in  Marston's  7th  Satire : 

" let  whirlwinds  and  confusion  teare 

"  The  center  of  our  state;  let  giants  reare 

"  Hill  upon  hill ;  let  westerne  Termagant 

"  Shake  heaven's  vault"  &c. 

Termagant  is  also  mentioned  by  Spenser  in  his  Fairy  Queen, 

and  by  Chaucer  in  The  Tale  of  Sir  Topas  ;  and  by  Beaumont 

and  Fletcher,  in  King  or  no  King,  as  follows :  "  This  would 

make  a  saint  swear  like  a  soldier,  and  a  soldier  like  Termagant." 

Again,  in  The  Picture,  by  Massinger: 

" a  hundred  thousand  Turks 

*'  Assail'd  him,  every  one  a  Termagaunt."     STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Bale's  Acts  of  English  Votaries : 

"  Grennyng  upon  her,  lyke  Termagauntes  in  a  play" 

RITSON. 

* out-herods  Herod :]  The  character  of  Herod  in  the  anr 

eient  mysteries,  was  always  a  violent  one. 

See  the  Coventriee  Ludus  among  the  Cotton  MSS.  Vespasian 
D.  vin : 

"  Now  I  regne  lyk  a  kyng  arrayd  ful  rych, 

"  Rollyd  in  rynggs  and  robys  of  array, 

"  Dukys  with  dentys  I  drive  into  the  dych ; 

"  My  dedys  be  full  dowty  demyd  be  day." 
Again,  in  The  Chester  Whitsun  Plays,  MS.  Harl.  1013 : 

"  I  kynge  of  kynges,  non  soe  keene, 

"  I  sovraigne  sir,  as  well  is  scene, 

"  I  tyrant  that  maye  bouth  take  and  teene 

"  Castell,  tower,  and  towne ; 

"  I  welde  this  worlde  withouten  wene, 
"  I  beate  all  those  unbuxome  heene ; 
"  I  drive  the  devills  alby  dene 
"  Deepe  in  hell  adowne. 

"  For  I  am  kinge  of  all  mankinde, 

"  I  byd,  I  beate,  I  lose,  I  bynde, 

"  I  master  the  moone;  take  this  in  mynde 

"  That  I  am  most  of  mighte. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  185 

discretion  be  your  tutor:  suit  the  action  to  the 
word,  the  word  to  the  action ;  with  this  special 
observance,  that  you  o'ei  -step  not  the  modesty  of 
nature:  for  any  thing  so  overdone  is  from  the  pur- 
pose of  playing,  whose  end,  both  at  the  first,  and 
now,  was,  and  is,  to  hold,  as  'twere,  the  mirrour  up 
to  nature  ;  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn 
her  own  image,  and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the 
time,1  his  form  and  pressure.2  Now  this,  over- 

"  I  ame  the  greatest  above  degree, 
"  That  is,  that  was,  or  ever  shall  be ; 
"  The  sonne  it  dare  not  shine  on  me, 
"  And  I  byd  him  goe  downe. 

"  No  raine  to  fall  shall  now  be  free, 

"  Nor  no  lorde  have  that  liberty 

"  That  dare  abyde  and  I  byd  fleey, 

"  But  I  shall  crake  his  crowne." 

See  The  Vintner's  Play,  p.  67. 
Chaucer,  describing  a  parish  clerk,  in  his  Miller's  Tale,  says : 

"  He  plaieth  Herode  on  a  skaffold  high." 

The  parish  clerks  and  other  subordinate  ecclesiasticks  appear  to 
have  been  our  first  actors,  and  to  have  represented  their  charac- 
ters on  distinct  pulpits  or  scaffolds.  Thus,  in  one  of  the  stage- 
directions  to  the  27th  pageant  in  the  Coventry  collection  alrea- 
dy mentioned :  "  What  tyme  that  processyon  is  entered  into  yl 
place,  and  the  Herowdys  taken  his  schqffalde,  and  Annas  and 
Cayphas  their  schaffaldys"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

To  the  instances  given  by  Mr.  Steevens  of  Herod's  lofty  lan- 
guage, may  be  added  these  lines  from  the  Coventry  plays 
among  the  Cotton  MSS.  p.  92 : 

*'  Of  bewte  and  of  boldnes  I  ber  evermore  the  belle, 
"  Of  mayn  and  of  myght  I  master  every  man ; 
"  I  dynge  with  my  dowtiness  the  devyl  down  to  helle, 
"  For  bothe  of  hevyn  and  of  earth  I  amkynge  certayn." 

MALONE. 

Again,  in  The  Unluckie  Firmentie,  by  G.  Kyttes,  4to.  bl.  1 : 
"  But  he  was  in  such  a  rage 
"  As  one  that  shulde  on  a  stage 

"  The  part  of  Herode  playe."     RITSON. 

1 age  and  body'o/"  the  time,]     The  age  of  the  time  can 

hardly  pass.    May  we  not  read,  the  face  and  body,  or  did  the 


1 86  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

done,  or  come  tardy  off',  though  it  make  the  un- 
skilful laugh,  cannot  but  make  the  judicious  grieve; 
the  censure  of  which  one,3  must,  in  your  allowance,4 
o*er- weigh  a  whole  theatre  of  others.  O,  there  be 


author  write,  the  page  ?  The  page  suits  well  with  form  and 
pressure,  but  ill  with  body.     JOHNSON. 

To  exhibit  theyorm  and  pressure  of  the  age  of  the  time,  is, 
to  represent  the  manners  of  the  time  suitable  to  the  period  that 
is  treated  of,  according  as  it  may  be  ancient,  or  modern. 

STEEVENS. 

I  can  neither  think  this  passage  right  asjt  stands,  nor  approve 
of  either  of  the  amendments  suggested  by  Johnson. — There  is 
one  more  simple  than  either,  that  will  remove  every  difficulty. 
Instead  of"  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time,"  (from  which  it 
is  hard  to  extract  any  meaning,)  I  read — "  every  age  and  body 
of  the  time  ;"  and  then  the  sense  will  be  this : — "  Show  virtue 
her  own  likeness,  and  every  stage  of  life,  every  profession  or 
body  of  men,  its  form  and  resemblance."  By  every  age,  is  meant, 
the  different  stages  of  life  ; — by  every  body,  the  various  fraterni- 
ties, sorts,  and  ranks  of  mankind.  M.  MASON. 

Perhaps  Shakspeare  did  not  mean  to  connect  these  words.  It 
is  the  end  of  playing,  says  Hamlet,  to  show  the  age  in  which 
we  live,  and  the  body  of  the  time,  its  form  and  pressure  :  to  de- 
lineate exactly  the  manners  of  the  age,  and  the  particular  hu- 
mour of  the  day.  MALOSE. 

* pressure."]   Resemblance,  as  in  a  print.     JOHNSON. 

3 the  censure  of  which  one,']     Ben  Jonson  seems  to  have 

Imitated  this  passage  in  his  Poetaster,  1601  : 

I  will  try 

If  tragedy  have  a  more  kind  aspect ; 
Her  favours  in  my  next  I  will  pursue ; 

*  Where  if  I  prove  the  pleasure  but  of  one, 
'  If  he  judicious  be,  he  shall  be  alone 

*  A  theatre  unto  me"     MA  LONE. 

the  censure  of  which  one,~]  The  meaning  is,  "  the  cen- 
sure of  one  of  which,"  and  probably  that  should  be  the  reading 
also.  The  present  reading,  though  intelligible,  is  very  licen- 
tious, especially  in  prose.  M.  MASON. 

—  in  your  allowance,]     In  your  approbation.     See  Vol. 
XVII.  King  Lear,  Act  II.  sc.  iv.     MALONE. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  187 

players,5  that  I  have  seen  play, — and  heard  others 
praise,  and  that  highly, — not  to  speak  it  profanely,6 
that,  neither  having  th^  accent  of  Christians,  nor 


4  0,  there  le  players,  &c.]     I  would  read  thus  :  "  There  be 

E  layers,  that  I  have  seen  play,  and  heard  others  praise,  and  that 
ighly  (not  to  speak  profanely)  that  neither  have  the  accent  nor 
the  gait  of  Christian,  Pagan,  nor  Mussulman,  have  so  strutted 
and  bellowed,  that  I  thought  some  of  nature's  journeymen  had 
made  the  men,  and  not  made  them  well,"  &c.     FARMER. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  our  author  wrote, — "that  I  thought  some 
pf  nature's  journeymen  had  made  them,  and  not  made  them 
well,"  &c.  Them  and  men  are  frequently  confounded  in  the  old 
copies.  See  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  II.  sc.  ii.  folio,  1623  : 
" — because  it  is  a  blessing  that  he  bestows  on  beasts,  and  what 
he  hath  scanted  them  [r.  men]  in  hair,  he  hath  given  them  in 
wit." — In  the  present  instance  the  compositor  probably  caught 
the  word  men  from  the  last  syllable  of  journeymen.  Shakspeare 
could  not  mean  to  assert  as  a  general  truth,  that  nature's  jour- 
neymen had  made  men,  i.  e.  all  mankind ;  for,  if  that  were  the 
case,  these  strutting  players  would  have  been  on  a  footing  with 
the  rest  of  the  species.  Nature  herself,  the  poet  means  to  say, 
made  all  mankind  except  these  strutting  players,  and  they  were 
made  by  Nature's  journeymen. 

A  passage  in  King^  Lear,  in  which  we  meet  with  the  same 
sentiment,  in  my  opinion  fully  supports  the  emendation  now  pro- 
posed : 

"  Kent.  Nature  disclaims  in  THEE,  a  tailor  made  THEE. 

"  Corn.  Thou  art  a  strange  fellow  :  A  tailor  make  a  man  ! 

"  Kent.  Ay,  a  tailor,  sir;  a  stone-cutter  or  a  painter  [Na- 
ture's journeymen^  could  not  have  made  him  so  ill,  though  he 
had  been  but  two  hours  at  the  trade." 

This  notion  of  Nature  keeping  a  shop,  and  employing  jour- 
neymen to  form  mankind,  was  common  in  Shakspeare's  time. 
See  Lyly's  Woman  in  the  Moon,  a  comedy,  1597  :  "They  draw 
the  curtains  from  before  Nature's  shop,  where  stands  an  image 
chid,  and  some  unclad."  MALONE. 

fi not  to  speak  it  profanely,]     Profanely  seems  to  relate, 

not  to  the  praise  which  he  has  mentioned,  but  to  the  censure 
which  he  is  about  to  utter.  Any  gross  or  indelicate  language 
was  called  profane.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello  : — "he  is  a  most  profane  and  liberal  counsellor." 

MALONE. 


188  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

the  gait  of  Christian,  pagan,  nor  man,  have  so 
strutted,  and  bellowed,  that  I  have  thought  some  of 
nature's  journeymen  had  made  men,  and  not  made 
them  well,  they  imitated  humanity  so  abominably. 

1  PLAY.  I  hope,  we  have  reformed  that  indif- 
ferently with  us. 

HAM.  O,  reform  it  altogether.  And  let  those, 
that  play  your  clowns,  speak  no  more  than  is  set 
down  for  them:7  for  there  be  of  them,  that  will 

7 speak  no  more  than  is  set  dovonjbr  them:~]    So,  in  The 

Antipodes,  by  Brome,  1638: 

—  you,  sirfc  are  incorrigible,  and 
Take  licence  to  yourself  to  add  unto 
Your  .parts,  your  own  free  fancy,"  &c. 

That  is  a  way,  ray  lord,  has  been  allow'd 

On  elder  stages,  to  move  mirth  and  laughter.*' 
Yes,  in  the  days  of  Tarlton,  and  of  Kempe, 


Before  the  stage  was  purg'd  from  barbarism,"  &c. 
Stowe  informs  us,  (p.  697,  edit.  1615,)  that  among  the 
twelve  players  who  were  sworn  the  queen's  servants  in  1583, 
"  were  two  rare  men,  viz.  Thomas  Wilson,  for  a  quick  delicate 
refined  extemporall  ivitte ;  and  Richard  Tarleton,  for  a  wondrous 
plentifull,  pleasant  extemporall  ivitt,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Tarleton's  Newesfrom  Purgatory :  "  — I  absented 
myself  from  allplaies,  as  wanting  that  merrye  Roscius  of  plaiers 
that  famosed  all  comedies  so  with  his  pleasant  and  extemporall 
invention." 

This  cause  for  complaint,  however,  against  low  comedians,  is 
still  more  ancient ;  for  in  The  Contention  belwyxte  Churchyard 
and  Cornell,  &c.  1560,  I  find  the  following  passage : 
"  But  Vices  in  stage  plaies, 

"  When  theyr  matter  is  gon, 
"  They  laugh  out  the  reste 

"  To  the  lookers  on. 
"  And  so  wantinge  matter, 

"  You  brynge  in  my  coate,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

The  clown  very  often  addressed  the  audience  in  the  middle 
of  the  play,  and  entered  into  a  contest  of  raillery  and  sarcasm 
with  such  of  the  audience  as  chose  to  engage  with  him.  It  is 
to  this  absurd  practice  that  Shakspeare  alludes.  See  the  Histo- 
rical Account  of  our  Old  English  Theatres,  Vol.  III.  MALONE. 


sc.ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  189 

themselves  laugh,  to  set  on  some  quantity  of  barren 
spectators  to  laugh  too ;  though,  in  the  mean  time, 
some  necessary  question  of  the  play  be  then  to  be 
considered :  that's  villainous ;  and  shows  a  most 
pitiful  ambition  in  the  fool  that  uses  it.  Go,  make 
you  ready.—  \_Exeunt  Players. 

Enter  POLONIUS,  ROSENCRANTZ,  and  GUILDEN- 
STERN. 

How  now,  my  lord  ?  will  the  king  hear  this  piece 
of  work  ? 

POL.  And  the  queen  too,  and  that  presently. 
HAM.  Bid  the  players  make  haste. — 

[Exit  POLONIUS. 
Will  you  two  help  to  hasten  them  ? 

BOTH.  Ay,  my  lord. 

\_Exeunt  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDEN- 
STERN. 

HAM.  What,  ho ;  Horatio ! 

Enter  HORATIO. 

HOE.  Here,  sweet  lord,  at  your  service. 

HAM.  Horatio,  thou  art  e'en  as  just  a  man 
As  e'er  my  conversation  cop'd  withal. 

HOR.  O,  my  dear  lord, 

HAM.  Nay,  do  not  think  I  flatter : 

For  what  advancement  may  I  hope  from  thee, 
That  no  revenue  hast,  but  thy  good  spirits, 
To  feed,  and  clothe  thee  ?   Why  should  the  poor 

be  flatter'd  ? 
No,  let  the  candied  tongue  lick  absurd  pomp ; 


190  HAMLET, 

And  crook  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee,8 
Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning.  Dost  thou  hear? 
Since  my  dear  soul"  was  mistress  of  her  choice, 
And  could  of  men  distinguish  her  election, 
She  hath  seaPd  thee  for  herself:1  for  thou  hast  been 
As  one,  in  suffering  all,  that  suffers  nothing ; 
A  man,  that  fortune's  buffets  and  rewards 
Hast  ta'en  with  equal  thanks:  andbless'd  are  those, 
Whose  blood  and  judgment2  are  so  well  co-min- 
gled,3 

That  they  are  not  a  pipe  for  fortune's  finger 
To  sound  what  stop  she  please :  Give  me  that  man 
That  is  not  passion's  slave,  and  I  will  wear  him 
In  my  heart's  core,4  ay,  in  my  heart  of  heart, 

*  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee,~\  I  believe  the  sense  of 

pregnant  in  this  place,  is,  quick,  ready,  prompt.     JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  VI.  p.  191,  n.  5.     STEEVENS. 

9  my  dear  soul — ~\     Perhaps — my  clear  soul. 

JOHNSON. 

Dear  soul  is  an  expression  equivalent  to  the  £iAa  ya'vaTa, 
f  iXov  ijrof ,  of  Homer.  STEEVENS. 

1  And  could  of  men  distinguish  her  election, 

She  hath  seal'd  thee  for  herself  '.-]     Thus  the  quarto.     The 
folio  thus : 

And  could  of  men  distinguish,  her  election 
Hath  sealed  thee  &c.     STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Ritson  prefers  the  reading  of  the  quarto,  and  observes, 
that  to  distinguish  her  election,  is  no  more  than  to  make  her 
election.  Distinguish  of  men,  he  adds,  is  exceeding  harsh,  to 
say  the  best  of  it.  REED. 

2  Whose  blood  and  judgment — ]   According  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  four  humours,  desire  and  confidence  were  seated  in  the  blood, 
and  judgment  in  the  phlegm,  and  the  due  mixture  of  the  hu- 
mours made  a  perfect  character.     JOHNSON. 

3  co-mingled,']     Thus  the  folio.      The  quarto  reads — 

comedlcd ;  which  had  formerly  the  same  meaning.     MALONE. 

4  my  heart's  core,]  This  expression  occurs  also  in  Chap- 
man's translation  of  the  sixth  Iliad: 


sc.li.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  191 

As  I  do  thee. — Something  too  much  of  this. — 
There  is  a  play  to-night  before  the  king ; 
One  scene  of  it  comes  near  the  circumstance, 
Which  I  have  told  thee  of  my  father's  death. 
I  pr'ythee,  when  thou  seest  that  act  a-foot, 
Even  with  the  very  comment  of  thy  soul 
Observe  my  uncle :  if  his  occulted  guilt 
Do  not  itself  unkennel  in  one  speech, 
It  is  a  damned  ghost  that  we  have  seen ; 
And  my  imaginations  are  as  foul 
As  Vulcan's  stithy.5    Give  him  heedful  note : 
For  I  mine  eyes  will  rivet  to  his  face ; 
And,  after,  we  will  both  our  judgments  join 
In  censure  of  his  seeming. 

HOR.  Well,  my  lord : 

If  he  steal  aught,  the  whilst  this  play  is  playing, 
And  scape  detecting,  I  will  pay  the  theft. 

HAM.  They  are  coming  to  the  play;  I  must  b* 

idle : 
Get  you  a  place. 


" he  wandred  evermore 

"  Alone  through  his  Aleian  field ;  and  fed  upon  the  core 
"  Of  his  sad  bosome."     STEEVENS. 

5  Vulcan's  stithy.]   Stithy  is  a  smith's  anvil.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  : 

11  Now  by  the  Jorge  that  stithied  Mars's  helm.'* 
Again,  in  Greene's  Card  of  Fancy,  1608 :  "  determined  to 
strike  on  the  stith  while  the  iron  was  hot." 

Again,  in  Chaucer's  celebrated  description  of  the  Temple  of 
Mars,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  ver.  2028 : 

« the  smith 

"  That  forgeth  sharp  swerdes  on  his  stith."    STEEVENS. 

The  stith  is  the  anvil;  the  stithy,  the  smith's  shop.  These 
words  are  familiar  to  me,  being  in  constant  use  at  Halifax,  my 
native  place.  J.  EDWARDS. 


192  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 


Danish  March.  A  Flourish.  Enter  King,  Queen, 
POLONIUS,  OPHELIA,  ROSENCRANTZ,  GUILDEN- 
STERN,  and  Others. 

KING.  How  fares  our  cousin  Hamlet  ? 

HAM.  Excellent,  i'faith  ;  of  the  camelion's  dish: 
I  eat  the  air,  promise-crammed :  You  cannot  feed 
capons  so. 

KING.  I  have  nothing  with  this  answer,  Hamlet; 
these  words  are  not  mine. 

HAM.  No,  nor  mine  now.6  My  lord, — you 
played  once  in  the  university,  you  say  ?7 

[To  POLONIUS. 


r>  nor  mine  now.']     A  man's  words,  says  the  proverb, 

are  his  own  no  longer  than  he  keeps  them  unspoken. 

JOHNSON. 

7 you  played  once  in  the  university,  you  say?]     It  should 

seem  from  the  following  passage  in  Vice  Chancellor  Hatcher's 
Letters  to  Lord  Burghley,  on  June  21,  1580,  that  the  common 
players  were  likewise  occasionally  admitted  to  perform  there : 
"  Whereas  it  has  pleased  your  honour  to  recommend  my  lorde 
of  Oxenford  his  players,  that  they  might  show  their  cunning  in 
several  plays  already  practised  by  'em  before  the  Queen's  ma- 
jesty"  (denied  on  account  of  the  pestilence  and  commence- 
ment:) "of late  we  denied  the  like  to  the  Right  Honourable 
the  Lord  of  Leicester  his  servants."  FARMER. 

The  practice  of  acting  Latin  plays  in  the  universities  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  is  very  ancient,  and  continued  to  near  the  mid- 
dle of  the  last  century.  They  were  performed  occasionally  for 
the  entertainment  of  princes  and  other  great  personages ;  and 
regularly  at  Christmas,  at  whicli  time  a  Lord  of  misrule  was  ap- 
pointed at  Oxford  to  regulate  the  exhibitions,  and  a  similar  offi- 
cer with  the  title  of  Imperator  at  Cambridge.  The  most  cele- 
brated actors  at  Cambridge  were  the  students  of  St.  John's  and 
King's  colleges  :  at  Oxford  those  of  Christ- Church.  In  the  hall 
of  that  college  a  Latin  comedy  called  Marcus  Geminus,  and  the 
Latin  tragedy  of  Progne,were  performed  before  Queen  Elizabeth 
in  the  year  1566;  and  in  1564-,  the  Latin  tragedy  of  Dido  was 


sc.  //.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  193 

POL.  That  did  I,  my  lord;  and  was  accounted 
a  good  actor. 

HAM.  And  what  did  you  enact  ? 

POL.  I  did  enact  Julius  Caesar:8  I  was  killed 
i'the  Capitol  ;9  Brutus  killed  me. 

played  before  her  majesty,  when  she  visited  the  university  of 
Cambridge.  The  exhibition  was  in  the  body  or  nave  of  the 
chapel  of  King's  college,  which  was  lighted  by  the  royal  guards, 
each  of  whom  bore  a  staff-torch  in  his  hand.  See  Peck's  Desider. 
Cur.  p.  36,  rv.  x.  The  actors  of  this  piece  were  all  of  that 
college.  The  author  of  the  tragedy,  who  in  the  Latin  ac- 
count of  this  royal  visit,  in  the  Museum,  [MSS.  Baker,  7037, 
p.  203,3  is  said  t°  have  been  Regalis  Collegii  olim  socitis,  was,  I 
believe,  John  Rightwise,  who  was  elected  a  fellow  of  King's 
college,  in  1507,  and  according  to  Anthony  Wood,  "  made  the 
tragedy  of  Dido  out  of  Virgil,  and  acted  the  same  with  the  scho- 
lars of  his  school  [St.  Paul's,  of  which  he  was  appointed  master 
in  1522,]  before  Cardinal  Wolsey  with  great  applause."  In 
1583,  the  same  play  was  performed  at  Oxford,  in  Christ-Church 
hall,  before  Albertus  de  Alasco,  a  Polish  prince  Palatine,  as  was 
William  Gager's  Latin  comedy,  entitled  Rivales.  On  Elizabeth's 
second  visit  to  Oxford,  in  1592,  a  few  years  before  the  writing 
of  the  present  play,  she  was  entertained  on  the  24th  and  26th 
of  September,  with  the  representation  of  the  last-mentioned 
play,  and  another  Latin  comedy,  called  Bellum  Grammaticale. 

MALONE. 

8  /  did  enact  Julius  Csesar :]  A  Latin  play  on  the  subject  of 
Caesar's  death  was  performed  at  Christ-Church  in  Oxford,  in 
1582;  and  several  years  before,  a  Latin  play  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, written  by  Jacques  Grevin,  was  acted  in  the  college  of 
Beauvais,  at  Paris.  I  suspect  that  there  was  likewise  an  En- 
on  the  story  of  Caesar  before  the  time  of  Shakspeare, 


See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  252,  and  the  Essay  on  the  Order  of  Shak- 
speare's  Plays,  Vol.  II.     MALONE. 

a  1  was  killed  i'the  Capitol ;~]  This,  it  is  well  known,  was 

not  the  case ;  for  Caesar,  we  are  expressly  told  by  Plutarch,  was 
killed  in  Pompey's  portico.  But  our  poet  followed  the  received 
opinion,  and  probably  the  representation  of  his  own  time,  in 
a  play  on  the  subject  of  Caesar's  death,  previous  to  that  which 
he  wrote.  The  notion  that  Julius  Caesar  was  killed  in  the  Ca- 
pitol is  as  old  as  the  time  of  Chaucer : 
VOL.  XVIII.  O 


194  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

HAM.  It  was  a  brute  part  of  him,1  to  kill  so  ca- 
pital a  calf  there. — Be  the  players  ready  ? 

Ros.  Ay,  my  lord ;  they  stay  upon  your  patience.5 

QUEEN.  Come  hither,  my  dear  Hamlet,  sit  by 
me. 

HAM.  No,  good  mother,  here's  metal  more  at- 
tractive. 

POL.  O  ho !  do  you  mark  that  ?   [To  the  King. 

HAM.  Lady,  shall  I  lie  in  your  lap  ? 

[Lying  dow?i  at  OPHELIA'S  Feet.* 

OPH.  No,  my  lord. 


"  This  Julius  to  the  capUolie  wente 

"  Upon  a  day  as  he  was  wont  to  gon, 

"  And  in  the  capitolie  anon  him  hente 

**  This  false  Brutus,  and  his  other  soon, 

"  And  sticked  him  with  bodekins'anon 

"  With  many  a  wound,"  &c.     The  Monkes  Tale. 

Tyrwhitt's  edit.  Vol.  II.  p.  31.    MALONE. 

1  It  tons  a  brute  part  of  him,']  Sir  John  Harrington  in  his 
Metamorphosis  of  Ajax,  1596,  has  the  same  quibble :  "  O  brave- 
minded  Brutus  !  but  this  I  must  truly  say,  they  were  two  brutish 
parts  both  of  him  and  you ;  one  to  kill  his  sons  for  treason,  the 
other  to  kill  his  father  in  treason."  STEEVENS. 

*  they  stay  upon  your  patience.]     May  it  not  be  read 

more  intelligibly, — they  stay  upon  your  pleasure  ?  In  Macbeth 
it  is: 

"  Noble  Macbeth,  we  stay  upon  your  leisure." 

JOHNSON. 

1  at  Ophelia's  fret.']     To  lie  at  the  feet  of  a  mistress. 

during  any  dramatick  representation,  seems  to  have  been  a  com- 
mon act  of  gallantry.  So,  in  The  Queen  of  Corinth,  by  Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher: 

"  Ushers  her  to  her  couch,  lies  at  her  feel 
"  At  solemn  masques,  applauding  what  she  laughs  at.'* 
Again,  in  Gascoigne's  Greene  Knight's  Farewell  to  Fancie  : 
**  To  lie  along  in  ladies  lappes.yy     STEEVENS. 


Sc.n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  195 

HAM.  I  mean,  my  head  upon  your  lap  ?4 
OPH.  Ay,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Do  you  think,  I  meant  country  matters  ?5 
OPH.  I  think  nothing,  my  lord. 
HAM.    That's  a  fair  thought   to  lie  between 
maids'  legs. 

OPH.  What  is,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Nothing. 

OPH.  You  are  merry,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Who,  I  ? 

OPH.  Ay,  my  lord. 

HAM.  O!  your  only  jig-maker.6  What  should  a 

*  I  mean,  &c.]  This  speech  and  Ophelia's  reply  to  it  are 
omitted  in  the  quartos.  STEEVENS. 

5  Do  you  think,  I  meant  country  matters  ?]  Dr.  Johnson,  from 
a  casual  inadvertence,  proposed  to  read — country  manners.  The 
old  reading  is  certainly  right.  What  Shakspeare  meant  to  allude 
to,  must  be  too  obvious  to  every  reader,  to  require  any  explana- 
tion. MALONE. 

—  your  only  jig-maker.]   There  may  have  been  some  hu- 
mour in  this  passage,  the  force  of  which  is  now  diminished : 

many  gentlemen 

Are  not,  as  in  the  days  of  understanding, 
Now  satisfied  without  a  jig,  which  since 
'  They  cannot  with  their  honour,  call  for  after 
4  The  play,  they  look  to  be  serv'd  up  in  the  middle.'* 

Changes,  or  Love  in  a  Maze,  by  Shirley,  1632. 
In  The  Hog  hath  lost  his  Pearl,  1614,  one  of  the  players 
comes  to  solicit  a  gentleman  to  'write  a  jig  for  him.  A- jig  was 
not  in  Shakspeare's  time  only  a  dance,  but  a  ludicrous  dialogue 
in  metre,  and  of  the  lowest  kind,  like  Hamlet's  conversation 
with  Ophelia.  Many  of  these  jigs  are  entered  in  the  books  of 
the  Stationers'  Company : — "  Philips  his  Jigg  of  the  slyppers, 
1595.  Kempe's  Jigg  of  the  Kitchin-stuff  woman,  1595." 

STEJEVEJJS. 

The  following  lines  in  the  prologue  to  Fletcher's  Love's  Pil- 
grimage, confirms  Mr.  Steevens's  remark : 

o  2 


196  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

man  do,  but  be  merry  ?  for,  look  you,  how  cheer- 
fully my  mother  looks,  and  my  father  died  within 
these  two  hours. 

OPH.  Nay,  'tis  twice  two  months,  my  lord. 

HAM.  So  long?    Nay,  then  let  the  devil  wear 
black,  for  I'll  have  a  suit  of  sables.7     O  heavens! 


" for  approbation, 

"  A  jig  shall  be  clapp'd  at,  and  every  rhyme 
"  Prais'd  and  applauded  by  a  clamorous  chime." 
A  jig  was  not  always  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue.     Many  histo- 
rical ballads  were  formerly  called  jigs.     See  also,  p.  153,  n.  4, 
and  The  Historical  Account  of  the  English  Theatres,  Vol.  II. 

MALONE. 

A  jig,  though  it  signified  a  ludicrous  dialogue  in  metre,  yet  it 
also  was  used  for  a  dance.  In  the  extract  from  Stephen  Gosson 
in  the  next  page  but  one,  we  have — 

"  tumbling,  dancing  ofgiggft*"     RITSON. 

'  •  Nay*  then  let  the  devil  wear  black,  for  /'//  have  a  suit 

itf  sables.]  The  conceit  of  these  words  is  not  taken.  They  are 
an  ironical  apology  for  his  mother's  cheerful  looks :  two  months 
was  long  enough  in  conscience  to  make  any  dead  husband  for- 
gotten. But  the  editors,  in  their  nonsensical  blunder,  have  made 
Hamlet  say  just  the  contrary:  That  the  devil  and  he  would  both 
go  into  mourning,  though  his  mother  did  not.  The  true  reading 
is — Nay,  then  let  the  devil  wear  black,  'fore  /'//  have  a  suit  of 
sable.  'Fore,  i.  e.  before.  As  much  as  to  say, — Let  the  devil 
wear  black  for  me,  I'll  have  none.  The  Oxford  editor  despises 
an  emendation  so  easy,  and  reads  it  thus, — Nay,  then  let  the 
devil  wear  black,  for  I'll  have  a  suit  of  ermine.  And  you  could 
expect  no  less,  when  such  a  critick  had  the  dressing  of  him. 
But  the  blunder  was  a  pleasant  one.  The  senseless  editors  had 
wrote  sables,  the  fur  so  called,  for  sable,  black.  And  the  critick 
only  changed  this  fur  for  that ;  by  a  like  figure,  die  common 
people  say, —  You  rejoice  the  cockles  of  my  heart,  for  the  muscles 
of  my  heart;  an  unlucky  mistake  of  one  shell-fish  for  another. 

WAHBURTON. 

I  know  not  why  our  editors  should  with  such  implacable  anger 
pel secutu  their  predecessors.  Oi  vex^ot  py  £axvacnv,  the  dead, 
it  is  true,  can  make  no  resistance,  they  may  be  attacked  with 
great  security ;  but  since  they  can  neither  feel  nor  mend,  the 
safety  of  mauling  them  seems  greater  than  the  pleasure ;  nor 


sc.n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  197 

die  two  months  ago,  and  not  forgotten  yet  ?  Then 
there's  hope,  a  great  man's  memory  may  outlive 

perhaps  would  it  much  misbeseem  us  to  remember,  amidst  our 
triumphs  over  the  nonsensical  and  senseless,  that  we  likewise  are 
men ;  that  debemur  morti,  and  as  Swift  observed  to  Burnet,  shall 
soon  be  among  the  dead  ourselves. 

I  cannot  find  how  the  common  reading  is  nonsense,  nor  why 
Hamlet,  when  he  laid  aside  his  dress  of  mourning,  in  a  country 
where  it  was  bitter  cold,  and  the  air  nipping  and  eager,  should 
not  have  a  suit  of  sables.  I  suppose  it  is  well  enough  known, 
that  the  fur  of  sables  is  not  black.  JOHNSON. 

A  suit  of  sables  was  the  richest  dress  that  could  be  worn  in 
Denmark.  STEEVENS. 

Here  again  is  an  equivoque.  In  Massinger's  Old  Laic,  we 
have, — 

" A  cunning  grief, 

"  That's  only  faced  with  sables  for  a  show, 
"  But  gawdy-h carted."     FARMER. 

Nay,  then  let  the  devil  luear  black,  for  I'll  have  a  suit  of 

sables.]  Nay  then,  says  Hamlet,  if  my  father  be  so  long  dead 
as  you  say,  let  the  devil  wear  black ;  as  for  me,  so  far  from 
wearing  a  mourning  dress,  I'll  wear  the  most  costly  and  magni- 
ficent suit  that  can  be  procured :  a  suit  trimmed  tvith  sables. 

Our  poet  furnished  Hamlet  with  a  suit  of  sables  on  the  present 
occasion,  not,  as  I  conceive,  because  such  a  dress  was  suited  to 
"  a  country  where  it  was  bitter  cold,  and  the  air  was  nipping 
and  eager,"  (as  Dr.  Johnson  supposed,)  nor  because  "a  suit  of 
sables  was  the  richest  dress  that  could  be  worn  in  Denmark," 
(as  Mr.  Steevens  has  suggested,)  of  which  probably  he  had  no 
knowledge,  but  because  a  suit  trimmed  with  sables  was  in  Shak- 
speare's  time  the  richest  dress  worn  by  men  in  England.  We 
have  had  again  and  again  occasion  to  observe,  that,  wherever 
his  scene  might  happen  to  be,  the  customs  of  his  own  country 
were  still  in  his  thoughts. 

By  the  statute  of  apparel,  24-  Henry  VIII.  c.  13,  (article 
farres,)  it  is  ordained,  that  none  under  the  degree  of  an  earl 
may  use  sables. 

Bishop  says  in  his  Blossoms,  1577,  speaking  of  the  extrava- 
gance of  those  times,  that  a  thousand  ducates  were  sometimes 
given  for  "  a  face  of  sables." 

That  a  suit  of  sables  was  the  magnificent  dress  of  our  au- 
thor's time,  appears  from  a  passage  in  Ben  Jonson's  Discoveries : 


198  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

his  life  half  a  year :  But,  by'r-lady,  he  must  build 
churches  then:8  or  else  shall  he  suffer  not  think- 
ing on,  with  the  hobby-horse  ;'J  whose  epitaph  is, 
For,  O,for,  O,  the  hobby -horse  is  forgot.1 

"  Would  you  not  laugh  to  meet  a  great  counsellor  of  state ,  in  a 
flat  cap,  with  his  trunk-hose,  and  a  hobby-horse  cloak,  [See 
fig.  5,  in  the  plate  annexed  to  King  Henri/  IV.  P.  I.  Vol.  XI.] 
and  yond  haberdasher  in  a  velvet  gown  trimni'd  with  sables?" 

Florio,  in  his  Italian  Dictionary,  1598,  thus  explains  zibilinis 
"  The  rich  furre  called  sables." — Sables  is  the  skin  of  the  sable 
Martin.  See  Cotgrave's  French  Diet.  1611:  "  Sebilline  Martre 
Sebcl.  The  sable  Martin ;  the  beast  whose  skinne  we  call 
sables."  MA  LONE. 

8  But  he  must  build  churches  then :~]    Such  benefactors  to 

society  were  sure  to  be  recorded  by  means  of  the  feast  day  on 
which  the  patron  saints  and  founders  of  churches  were  comme- 
morated in  every  parish.  This  custom  having  been  long  disused, 
the  names  of  the  builders  of  sacred  edifices  are  no  longer  known 
to  the  vulgar,  and  are  preserved  only  in  antiquarian  memoirs. 

STEEVBNS, 

9  stiffer  not  thinking  on,ivith  the  hobby-horse;]  Amongst 

the  country  May-games  there  was  an  hobby-horse,  which,  when 
the  puritanical  humour  of  those  times  opposed  and  discredited 
these  games,  was  brought  by  the  poets  and  ballad-makers  as  an 
instance  of  the  ridiculous  zeal  of  the  sectaries:  from  these  bal- 
lads Hamlet  quotes  a  line  or  two.     WARBURTON. 

1  O,  the  hobby-horse  is  forgot."]   In  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 

this  line  is  also  introduced.  In  a  small  black  letter  book  enti- 
tled, Plays  Confuted^  by  Stephen  Gosson,  I  find  the  hobby-horse 
enumerated  in  the  list  of  dances :  "  For  the  devil  (says  this  au- 
thor) beeside  the  beautie  of  the  houses,  and  the  stages,  sendeth 
in  gearish  apparell,  maskes,  vauting,  tumbling,  dauncing  of 
gigges,  galiardes,  morisces,  hobbi-horsrs,"  &c.  and  in  Green's 
Tu  Quoque,  1614-,  the  same  expression  occurs:  "  The  other 
hobby-horse  I  perceive  is  not  forgotten." 

In  TEXNOFAMIA,  or  The  Marriage  of  the  Arts,  1618,  is 
the  following  stage-direction : 

"  Enter  a  hobby-horse,  dancing  the  morrice,"  $fc. 
Again,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Women  Pleased  : 
"  So/o.  Shall  the  hobby-horse  be  forgot  then, 
"  The  hopeful  hobby-horse,  shall  he  lie  founder'd  ?" 


sc.n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  199 


Trumpets  sound.     The  dumb  Show  follows? 

Enter  a  King  and  a  Queen,  very  lovingly;  the  Queen 
embracing  Mm,  and  he  her.  She  kneels,  and 
makes  show  of  protestation  unto  him.  He  takes 
her  up,  and  declines  his  head  upon  her  neck :  lays 
him  down  upon  a  hank  ofjtowers;  she,  seeing  him 
asleep,  leaves  him.  Anon  comes  in  a  fellow,  takes 
off  his  crown,  kisses  it,  and  pours  poison  in  the 
King's  ears,  and  exit.  The  Queen  returns  /  finds 
the  King  dead,  and  makes  passionate  action.  The 
poisoner,  with  some  two  or  three  Mutes,  comes  in 
again,  seeming  to  lament  with  her.  The  dead 


The  scene  in  which  this  passage  is,  will  very  amply  confirm 
all  that  Dr.  Warburton  has  said  concerning  the  hobby-horse. 

Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Entertainment  for  the  Queen  and 
Prince  at  Althorpe : 

"  But  see  the  hobby-horse  is  forgot, 
"  Fool,  it  must  be  your  lot, 
"  To  supply  his  want  with  faces 
"  And  some  other  buffoon  graces." 

See  figure  5,  in  the  plate  at  the  end  of  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henry  IV.  with  Mr.  Toilet's  observations  on  it.  STEEVENS. 

*  The  dumb  shoiu  jbllotus.']  and  appears  to  contain 

every  circumstance  of  the  murder  of  Hamlet's  father.  Now 
there  is  no  apparent  reason  why  the  Usurper  should  not  be  as 
much  affected  by  this  mute  representation  of  his  crimes,  as  he  is 
afterwards  when  the  same  action  is  accompanied  by  words. 

I  once  conceived  this  might  have  been  a  kind  of  direction  to 
the  players,  which  was  from  mistake  inserted  in  the  editions ; 
but  the  subsequent  conversation  between  Hamlet  and  Ophelia, 
entirely  destroys  such  a  notion.  PYE. 

I  cannot  reconcile  myself  to  the  exhibition  in  dumb  show, 
preceding  the  interlude  which  is  injudiciously  introduced  by  the 
author,  and  should  always  be  omitted  on  the  stage ;  as  we  can- 
not well  conceive  why  the  mute  representation  of  his  crime 
should  not  affect  as  much  the  conscience  of  the  King,  as  the 
scene  that  follows  it.  M.  MASON. 


200  HAMLET,  ACTIJL 

body  is  carried  away.  The  poisoner  wooes  the 
Queen  with  gifts  /  she  seems  loath  and  unwilling 
awhile,  but,  in  the  end,  accepts  his  love. 

[Exeunt. 

OPH.  What  means  this,  my  lord  ? 
HAM.  Marry,  this  is  miching  mallecho ;  it  means 
mischief.3 


3  Marry,  this  is  miching  mallecho ;  it  means  mischief."]  To 
mich  signified,  originally,  to  keep  hid  and  out  of  sight ;  and, 
as  such  men  generally  did  it  for  the  purposes  of  lying  in  •wait, 
it  then  signified  to  rob.  And  in  this  sense  Shakspeare  uses  the 
noun,  a  micher,  when  speaking  of  Prince  Henry  amongst  a 
gang  of  robbers.  Shall  the  blessed  sun  of  heaven  prove  a  micher  ? 
Shall  the  son  of  England  prove  a  thief?  And  in  this  sense  it 
is  used  by  Chaucer,  in  his  translation  of  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose, 
where  he  turns  the  word  lierre,  (which  is  larron,  voleur,)  by 
micher.  WARBURTON. 

Dr.  Warburton  is  right  in  his  explanation  of  the  word 
miching.  So,  in  The  Raging  Turk,  1631: 

" wilt  thou,  envious  dotard, 

"  Strangle  my  greatness  in  a  miching  hole  ?" 
Again,  in  Stanyhurst's  Virgil,  1582: 

" wherefore  thus  vainely  in  land  Lybye  mitche  you  ?'* 

The  quarto  reads — munching  Mallico.     STEEVENS. 

The  word  miching  is  daily  used  in  the  West  of  England  for 
playing  truant,  or  sculking  about  in  private  for  some  sinister 
purpose;  and  malicho,  inaccurately  written  for  malheco,  signifies 
mischief;  so  that  miching  malicho  is  mischief  on  the  tvatch  for 
opportunity.  When  Ophelia  asks  Hamlet — "  What  means  this  ?" 
she  applies  to  him  for  an  explanation  of  "what  she  had  not  seen  in 
the  snow:  and  not,  as  Dr.  Warburton  would  have  it,  the  pur- 
pose for  which  the  show  was  contrived.  Besides,  malhechor  no 
more  signifies  a  poisoner,  than  a  perpetrator  of  any  other  crime. 

HENLEY. 

—  miching  mallecho ;]  A  secret  and  wicked  contrivance;  a 
concealed  wickedness.  To  mich  is  a  provincial  word,  and  was 
orobably  once  general ;  signifying  to  lie  hid,  or  play  the  truant. 
In  Norfolk  mich,  rs  signify  pilferers.  The  signification  of  miching 
in  the  present  passage  may  be  ascertained  by  a  passage  in  Deck- 
er's Wonderful  Ycarc,  4to.  1603  :  "  Those  that  could  shift  for  a 


so.  ii.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          201 

OPH.  Belike,  this  show  imports  the  argument  of 
the  play. 

time, — went  most  bitterly  miching  and  muffled,  up  and  downe, 
with  rue  and  wormwood  stuft  into  their  ears  and  nostrills." 

See  also,  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary,  1598,  in  v.  Acciapinare: 

"  To  miche,  to  shrug  or  sneak  in  some  corner,  and  with  powting 

and  lips  to  shew  some  anger."    In  a  subsequent  passage  we  find 

that  the  murderer  before  he  poisons  the  king  makes  damnable 

faces. 

Where  our  poet  met  with  the  word  mallecho,  which  in  Min- 
sheu's  Spanish  Dictionary,  1617,  is  defined  malefactum,  I  am 
unable  to  ascertain.  In  the  folio,  the  word  is  spelt  malicho. 
Mallico  [in  the  quarto]  is  printed  in  a  distinct  character,  as  a 
proper  name.  MALONE, 

If,  as  Capell  declares,  (I  know  not  on  what  authority)  Malicho 
be  the  Vice  of  the  Spanish  Moralities,  he  should  at  least  be  dis- 
tinguished by  a  capital.  FARMER. 

It  is  not,  however,  easy  to  be  supposed  that  our  readers  dis- 
cover pleasantry  or  even  sense  in  "  this  is  miching  [or  munching] 
mallico,"  no  meaning  as  yet  affixed  to  these  words  has  entitled 
them  to  escape  a  further  investigation.  Omit  them,  and  the  text 
unites  without  their  assistance : 

"  Oph.  What  means  this,  my  lord  ? 
"  Ham.  Marry,  it  means  mischief." 

Among  the  Shakspearian  memoranda  of  the  late  Dr.  Farmer, 
I  met  with  the  following — "  At  the  beginning  of  Grim  the  Col- 
lier of  Croydon,  the  ghost  of  Malbecco  is  introduced  as  a  prolo- 
cutor." Query,  therefore,  if  the  obscure  words  already  quoted, 
were  not  originally: — "  This  is  mimicking  Malbecco;"  a  private 
gloss  by  some  friend  on  the  margin  of  the  IMS.  Hamlet,  and 
thence  ignorantly  received  into  the  text  of  Shakspeare. 

It  remains  to  be  observed,  that  the  mimickry  imagined  by  Dr. 
Farmer,  must  lie  in  our  author's  stage-directions,  &c.  which, 
like  Malbecco's  legend,  convey  a  pointed  censure  on  t  the  infi- 
delity of  married  women.  Or,  to  repeat  the  same  idea  in  dif- 
ferent words — the  drift  of  the  present  dumb  shew  and  succeed- 
ing dialogue,  was  considered  by  the  glosser  as  too  congenial  with 
the  well-known  invective  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  Book  III. 
or  the  contracted  copy  from  it  in  the  Induction  to  Grim  the 
Collier  &c.  a  comedy  which  was  acted  many  years  before  it  was 
printed.  See  Mr.  Reed's  Old  Plays,  Vol.  XI.  p.  189. 

STEEVENS. 


202  HAMLET,  ACTIII. 

Enter  Prologue. 

HAM.  We  shall  know  by  this  fellow :  the  players 
cannot  keep  counsel ;  they'll  tell  all. 

OPIL  Will  he  tell  us  what  this  show  meant  ? 

HAM.  Ay,  or  any  show  that  you'll  show  him : 
Be  not  you  ashamed  to  show,4  he'll  not  shame  to 
tell  you  what  it  means. 

OPH.  You  are  naught,  you  are  naught ;  I'll  mark 
the  play. 

PRO.  For  us,  and  for  our  tragedy. 
Here  stooping  to  your  clemency. 
We  beg  your  hearing  patiently. 

HAM.  Is  this  a  prologue,  or  the  posy  of  a  ring? 
OPH.  'Tis  brief,  my  lord. 
HAM.  As  woman's  love. 

Enter  a  King  and  a  Queen. 

P.  KING.  Full  thirty  times  hath  Phoebus'  cart5 

gone  round 
Neptune's  salt  wash,6  and  Tellus'  orbed  ground  ;7 

4 Be  not  you  ashamed  to  shoiv,  &c.]     The  conversation 

of  Hamlet  with  Ophelia,  which  cannot  tail  to  disgust  every  mo- 
dern reader,  is  probably  such  as  was  peculiar  to  the  young  and 
fashionable  of  the  age  of  Jihakspeare,  which  was,  by  no  means, 
an  age  of  delicacy.  The  poet  is,  however,  blanieable  ;  for  ex- 
travagance of  thought,  not  indecency  of  expression,  is  the  cha- 
racteristick  of  madness,  at  least  of  such  madness  as  should  be 
represented  on  the  scene.  STEEVENS. 

* cart — 3     A   chariot  was  anciently  so  called.     Thus, 

Chaucer,  in  The  Knight's  Tale,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  v.  202* : 
"  The  carter  overridden  with  his  cart."     STEEVENS. 

8  Full  thirty  times  hath  Phoebus'  cart  gone  round 
Neptune's  salt  ivash,  &c.]     This  speech  of  the  Player  King 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  203 

And  thirty  dozen  moons,  with  borrow' d  sheen,8 
About  the  world  have  times  twelve  thirties  been ; 
Since  love  our  hearts,  and  Hymen  did  our  hands, 
Unite  commutual  in  most  sacred  bands. 

P.  QUEEN.  So  many  journeys  may  the  sun  and 

moon 

Make  us  again  count  o'er,  ere  love  be  done ! 
But,  woe  is  me,  you  are  so  sick  of  late, 
So  far  from  cheer,  and  from  your  former  state, 
That  I  distrust  you.     Yet,  though  I  distrust, 
Discomfort  you,  my  lord,  it  nothing  must : 
For  Women  fear  too  much,  even  as  they  love ; 9 

appears  to  me  as  a  burlesque  of  the  following  passage  in  Tht 
Cornwall  Historic  ofAlphonsus,  by  R.  G.  1599  : 

«  Thrise  ten  times  Phoebus  with  his  golden  bennies 
"  Hath  compassed  the  circle  of  the  skie, 
"  Thrise  ten  times  Ceres  hath  her  workemen  hir'd, 
"  And  fild  her  barnes  with  frutefull  crops  of  corne, 
*'  Since  first  in  priesthood  I  did  lead  my  life."     TODD. 
7 orbed  ground ;]     So  also,  in  our  author's  Lover's  Com- 
plaint : 

"  Sometimes  diverted,  their  poor  balls  are  tied 
"  To  the  orbed  earth."     STEEVENS. 

8 sheen,"]     Splendor,  lustre.     JOHNSON. 

9 even  as  they  love ;]     Here  seems  to  have  been  a  line 

lost,  which  should  have  rhymed  to  love.     JOHNSON. 

This  line  is  omitted  in  the  folio.  Perhaps  a  triplet  was  de- 
signed, and  then  instead  of  love,  we  should  read  lust.  The  folio 
gives  the  next  line  thus  : 

"  For  women's  fear  and  love  holds  quantity." 

STEEVENS. 

There  is,  I  believe,  no  instance  of  a  triplet  being  used  in  our 
author's  time.  Some  trace  of  the  lost  line  is  found  in  the  quartos, 
which  read : 

Either  none  in  neither  aught,  &c. 

Perhaps  the  words  omitted  might  have  been  of  this  import  : 
"  Either  none  they  feel,  or  an  excess  approve; 
"  In  neither  aught,  or  in  extremity." 
In  two  preceding  passages  in  the  quarto,  half  a  line  was  in- 


204  HAMLET,  Acrnr. 

And  women's  fear  and  love  hold  quantity ; 
In  neither  aught,  or  in  extremity. 
Now,  what  my  love  is,  proof  hatn  made  you  know; 
And  as  my  love  is  siz'd,  my  fear  is  so.1 
Where  love  is  great,2  the  littlest  doubts  are  fear ; 
Where  little  fears  grow  great,  great  love  grows 
there. 

P.  KING.  'Faith,  I  must  leave  thee,  love,  and 

shortly  too ; 
My  operant  powers3  their  functions  leave  to  do : 

advertently  omitted  by  the  compositor.  See  p.  151,  "  then  sense- 
less Ilium,  seeming,"  &c.  and  p.  174,  "  thus  conscience  does 
make  cowards  of  us  all:" — the  words  in  Italick  characters  are 
not  found  in  the  quarto.  MALONE. 

Every  critick,  before  he  controverts  the  assertions  of  his  pre- 
decessor, ought  to  adopt  the  resolution  of  Othello : 

"  I'll  see,  before  I  doubt,  what  I  doubt,  prove." 

In  Phaer  and  Twine's  Virgil,  1584,  the  triplets  are  so  frequent, 
that  in  two  opposite  pages  of  the  tenth  Book,  not  less  than  seven 
are  to  be  met  with.  They  are  likewise  as  unsparingly  employed 
in  Golding's  Ovid,  1587.  Mr.  Malone,  in  a  note  on  The  Tem- 
pest, Vol.  IV.  p.  150,  has  quoted  a  passage  from  this  very  work, 
containing  one  instance  of  them.  In  Chapman's  Homer  they 
are  also  used,  &c.  &c.  &c.  In  The  Tempest,  Act  IV.  sc.  i. 
Many  other  examples  of  them  occur  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
Act  III.  sc.  i.  as  well  as  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  II.  and 
III.  &c.  &c. — and,  yet  more  unluckily  for  my  opponent,  the 
Prologue  to  the  Mock  Tragedy,  now  under  consideration,  con- 
sists of  a  triplet,  which  in  our  last  edition  stood  at  the  top  of  the 
same  page  in  which  he  supposed  "  no  instance  of  a  triplet  being 
used  in  our  author's  time."  STEEVENS. 

1  And  as  my  love  is  siz'd,  my  fear  is  so.~]  Cleopatra  expresses 
herself  much  in  the  same  manner,  with  regard  to  her  grief  for 
the  loss  of  Antony : 

"  . our  size  of  sorrow, 

"  Proportioned  to  our  cause,  must  be  as  great 
"  As  that  which  makes  it."     THEOHALD. 

*  Where  love  &c.]     These  two  lines  are  omitted  in  the  folio. 

STEEVENS. 

' operant  powers — ]      Operant   is  active.     Shakspeare 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  205 

And  thou  shalt  live  in  this  fair  world  behind, 
Honoured,  belov'd ;  and,  haply,  one  as  kind 
For  husband  shalt  thou 

P.  QUEEN.  O,  confound  the  rest 

Such  love  must  needs  be  treason  in  my  breast : 
In  second  husband  let  me  be  accurst ! 
None  wed  the  second,  but  who  killed  the  first. 

HAM.  That's  wormwood. 

P.  QUEEN.  The  instances,4  that  second  marriage 

move, 

Are  base  respects  of  thrift,  but  none  of  love ; 
A  second  time  I  kill  my  husband  dead, 
When  second  husband  kisses  me  in  bed. 

P.  KING.  I  do  believe,  you  think  what  now  you , 

speak ; 

But,  what  we  do  determine,  oft  we  break. 
Purpose  is  but  the  slave  to  memory;5 
Of  violent  birth,  but  poor  validity  : 
Which  now,  like  fruit  unripe,  sticks  on  the  tree  j 
But  fall,  unshaken,  when  they  mellow  be. 
Most  necessary  'tis,  that  we  forget 
To  pay  ourselves  what  to  ourselves  is  debt : 6 

gives  it  in  Timon  of  Athens  as  an  epithet  to  poison.     Heywood 
has  likewise  used  it  in  his  Royal  King  and  Loyal  Subject,  16S7  : 

" may  my  operant  parts 

"  Each  one  forget  their  office !" 
The  word  is  now  obsolete.     STEEVENS. 

4  The  instances,]     The  motives.     JOHNSON. 

3  Purpose  is  but  the  slave  to  memory  ;~\  So,  in  King  Henry  IV. 
Part  I : 

"  But  thought's  the  slave  of  life."     STEEVENS. 

6 ivhat  to  ourselves  is  dcbt:~]  The  performance  of  a  re- 
solution, in  which  only  the  rcsolver  is  interested,  is  a  debt  only 
to  himself,  which  he  may  therefore  remit  at  pleasure. 

JOHNSON. 


206  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

What  to  ourselves  in  passion  we  propose, 
The  passion  ending,  doth  the  purpose  lose. 
The  violence  of  either  grief  or  joy 
Their  own  enactures  with  themselves  destroy  :7 
Where  joy  most  revels,  grief  doth  most  lament ; 
Grief  joys,  joy  grieves,  on  slender  accident. 
This  world  is  not  for  aye ;  nor  'tis  not  strange, 
That  even  our  loves  should  with   our  fortunes 

change ; 

For  'tis  a  question  left  us  yet  to  prove, 
Whether  love  lead  fortune,  or  else  fortune  love. 
The  great  man  down,  you  mark  his  favourite  flies ; 
The  poor  advanc'd  makes  friends  of  enemies. 
And  hitherto  doth  love  on  fortune  tend : 
For  who  not  needs,  shall  never  lack  a  friend ; 
And  who  in  want  a  hollow  friend  doth  try, 
Directly  seasons  him  his  enemy.8 
But,  orderly  to  end  where  I  begun,— 
Our  wills,  and  fates,  do  so  contrary  run, 
That  our  devices  still  are  overthrown ; 
Our  thoughts  are  ours,  their  ends  none  of  our  own: 
So  think  thou  wilt  no  second  husband  wed ; 
But  die  thy  thoughts,  when  thy  first  lord  is  dead. 

P.  QUEEN.  Nor  earth  to  me  give  food,9  nor  hea- 
ven light! 
Sport  and  repose  lock  from  me,  day,  and  night ! 


7  The  violence  of  either  grief  or  joy 

Their  own  enactures  with  themselves  destroy:']  What  grief 
or  joy  enact  or  determine  in  their  violence,  is  revoked  in  their 
abatement.  Enactures  is  the  word  in  the  quarto  ;  all  the  mo- 
dern editions  have  enactors.  JOHNSON. 

8 seasons  him  his  enemy.']  This  quaint  phrase  infests  al- 
most every  ancient  English  composition.  Thus,  in  Chapman's 
translation  of  the  fifteenth  Book  of  Homer's  Odyssey: 

" taught  with  so  much  woe 

"  As  thou  hast  suffered,  to  be  seasoned  true." 

STEEVENS. 


ao.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          207 

To  desperation1  turn  my  trust  and  hope ! 
An  anchor's  cheer  in  prison  be  my  scope  ! 2 
Each  opposite,  that  blanks  the  face  of  joy, 
Meet  what  I  would  have  well,  and  it  destroy ! 
Both  here,  and  hence,  pursue  me  lasting  strife, 
If,  once  a  widow,  ever  1  be  wife ! 

HAM.  If  she  should  break  it  now, 

[To  OPHELIA. 

P.  KING.  JTis  deeply  sworn.     Sweet,  leave  me 

here  a  while ; 
My  spirits  grow  dull,  and  fain  I  would  beguile 

9  Nor  earth  to  me  givejfoorf,]  Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  The 
folio  and  the  late  editors  read  : 

Nor  earth  to  give  me  food, . 

An  imperative  or  optative  verb  was  evidently  intended  here, 
as  in  the  following  line  : 

"  Sport  and  repose  lock  from  me,"  &c.     MALONE. 
A  very  similar  imprecation, — 

"  Day,  yield  me  not  thy  light ;  nor  night,  thy  rest !"  &c. 
occurs  in  King  Richard  III.     See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  473. 

STEEVENS. 

1  To  desperation  &c.]  This  and  the  following  line  are  omitted 
in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

2  An  anchor's  cheer  in  prison  be  my  scope!']     May  my  whole 
liberty  and  enjoyment  be  to  live  on  hermit's  fare  in  a  prison. 
Anchor  is  for  anchoret.     JOHNSON. 

This  abbreviation  of  the  word  anchoret  is  very  ancient.  I  find 
it  in  the  Romance  of  Robert  the  Devil,  printed  by  Wynken  de 
Worde  :  "  We  haue  robbed  and  killed  nonnes,  holy  aunkers, 
preestes,  clerkes,"  &c.  Again :  "  the  foxe  will  be  an  aunker, 
for  he  begynneth  to  preche." 

Again,  in  The  Vision  of  Pierce  Plowman : 

"  As  ankers  and  hermits  that  hold  them  in  her  selles." 
This  and  the  foregoing  line  are  not  in  the  folio.  I  believe  we 
should  read — anchor's  chair.    So,  in  the  second  Satire  of  Hall's 
fourth  Book,  edit.  1602,  p.  18 : 

"  Sit  seven  yeres  pining  in  an  anchore's  cheyre, 

"  To  win  some  parched  shreds  of  minivere."    STEEVENS. 

The  old  copies  read — And  anchor's  cheer.  The  correction 
was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald.  MALONE. 


208  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

The  tedious  day  with  sleep.  \_Skeps. 

P.  QUEEN.  Sleep  rock  thy  brain  ; 

And  never  come  mischance  between  us  twain ! 

[Exit. 
HAM.  Madam,  how  like  you  this  play  ? 

QUEEN.  The  lady  doth  protest  too  much,  me- 
thinks. 

HAM.  O,  but  she'll  keep  her  word. 

KING.  Have  you  heard  the  argument  ?  Is  there 
no  offence  in't  ? 

HAM.  No,  no,  they  do  but  jest,  poison  in  jest; 
no  offence  i'the  worm. 

KING.  What  do  you  call  the  play  ? 

HAM.  The  mouse-trap.2  Marry,  how  ?  Tropi- 
cally. This  play  is  the  image  of  a  murder  done  in 
Vienna  :  Gonzago  is  the  duke's  name  ;4  his  wife, 
Baptista:5  you  shall  see  anon ;  'tis  a  knavish  piece 


1  The  mouse-trap.']  He  calls  it  the  mouse-trap,  because  it  is — 

" the  thing 

"  In  which  he'll  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king." 

STEEVENS. 

4 Gonzago  is  the  duke's  name ;]   Thus  all  the  old  copies : 

yet  in  the  stage-direction  for  the  dumb  show,  and  the  subsequent 
entrance,  we  have  "  Enter  a  king  and  queen,"  &c.  and  in  the 
latter  part  of  this  speech  both  the  quarto  and  folio  read: 
" Lucianus,  nephew  to  the  king." 

This  seeming  inconsistency,  however,  may  be  reconciled. 
Though  the  interlude  is  the  image  of  the  murder  of  a  duke  of 
Vienna,  or  in  other  words  founded  upon  that  story,  the  poet 
might  make  the  principal  person  of  his  fable  a  king. 

MALONE. 


' Baptista:]     Baptista  is,  I  think,  in  Italian,  the  name 

always  of  a  man.     JOHNSON. 

I  believe  Battista  is  never  used  singly  by  the  Italians,  being 
uniformly  compounded  with  Giant  (for  Giovanni,)  and  meaning 


a&  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  209 

of  work :  But  what  of  that  ?  your  majesty,  and  we 
that  have  free  souls,  it  -touches  us  not :  Let  the 
galled  jade  wince,6  our  withers  are  unwrung. — 


This  is  one  Lucianus,  nephew  to  the  king.7 
OPH.  You  are  as  good  as  a  chorus,  my  lord.8 
HAM.  I  could  interpret  between  you  and  your 

love,  if  I  could  see  the  puppets  dallying.9 
OPH.  You  are  keen,  my  lool,  you  are  keen. 


of  course,  John  the  Baptist.  Nothing  more  was  therefore 
necessary  to  detect  the  forgery  of  Shebbeare's  Letters  on  the 
English  Nation,  than  his  ascribing  them  to  Battista  Angeloni. 

RlTSON. 

6  Let  the  galled  jade  wince,']     This  is  a  proverbial  saying. 
So,  in  Damon  and  Pythias,  1582 : 

"  I  know  the  gall'd  horse  will  soonest  wince." 

STEEVENS. 

7  nephew  to  the  king.]    i.  e.  to  the  king  in  the  play  then 

represented.    The  modern  editors,  following  Mr.  Theobald,  read 
— nepheiv  to  the  duke, — though  they  have  not  followed  that  editor 
in  substituting  duke  and  dutchess,  for  Icing  and  queen,  in  the 
dumb  show  and  subsequent  entrance.     There  is  no  need  of 
departing  from  the  old  copies.     See  n.  4.     MALONE. 

8  You  are  as  good  as  a  chorus,  fyc.~]    The  use  to  which  Shak- 
speare  converted  the  chorus,  may  be  seen  in  King  Henry  V. 

HENLEY. 

9  Ham.  /  could  interpret  &c.]    This  refers  to  the  interpreter, 
who  formerly  sat  on  the  stage  at  all  motions  or  puppet-shows,  and 
interpreted  to  the  audience. 

So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Vetona : 

"  O  excellent  motion  !  O  exceeding  puppet  I 
"  Now  will  he  interpret  for  her." 

Again,  in  Greene's  Groatsworth  of  Wit,  1621 :  "  — It  was  I 
that  penned  the  moral  of  Man's  wit,  the  dialogue  of  Dives,  and 
for  seven  years'  space  was  absolute  interpreter  of  the  puppets." 

STEEVENS. 
VOL.  XVIII.  P 


210  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

HAM.  It  would  cost  you  a  groaning,  to  take  off 
my  edge. 

OPH.  Still  better,  and  worse.1 

HAM.  So  you  mistake  your  husbands.2 — Begin, 
murderer ; — leave  thy  damnable  faces,  and  begin. 
Come ; 


1  Still  better,  and  worse."]  i.  e.  better  in  regard  to  the  wit  of 
your  double  entendre,  but  worse  in  respect  to  the  grossness  of 
your  meaning.  STEEVENS. 

*  So  you  mistake  your  husbands.'}  Read — So  you  must  take 
your  husbands;  that  is,  for  better,  for  worse.  JOHNSON. 

Mr.  Theobald  proposed  the  same  reading  in  his  Shakspeare 
Restored,  however  he  lost  it  afterwards.  STEEVENS. 

So  you  mistake  your  husbands."]  I  believe  this  to  be  right :  the 
word  is  sometimes  used  in  this  ludicrous  manner :  "  Your  true 
trick,  rascal,  (says  Ursula,  in  Bartholomew  Fair,)  must  be  to 
be  ever  busie,  and  mistake  away  the  bottles  and  cans,  before  they 
be  half  drunk  off."  FARMER. 

Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of  Augurs:  "  — To  mistake 
six  torches  from  the  chandry,  and  give  them  one." 
Again,  in  The  Elder  Brother  of  Fletcher : 

**  I  fear  he  will  persuade  me  to  mistake  him." 
Again,  in  Chrestoleros ;  Seven  Bookes  of  Epigrams  written  by 
T.  B.  [Thomas  Bastard]  1598,  Lib.  VII.  Epig.  xviii : 
"  Caius  hath  brought  from  forraine  landes 
"  A  sootie  wench,  with  many  handes, 
**  Which  doe  in  goolden  letters  say 
"  She  is  his  wife,  not  stolne  away. 
"  He  mought  have  sav'de,  with  small  discretion, 
"  Paper,  inke,  and  all  confession : 
"  For  none  that  see'th  her  face  and  making, 
*'  Will  judge  her  stolne,  but  by  mistaking" 
Again,  in  Questions  of  Profitable  and  Pleasant  Concemings, 
&c.  1594- :  "  Better  I  were  now  and  then  to  suffer  his  remisse 
mother  to  mistake  a  quarter  or  two  of  corne,  to  buy  the  knave  a 
coat  with,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

I  believe  the  meaning  is — you  do  amiss  for  yourselves  to  take 
husbands  for  the  worse.  You  should  take  them  only  for  the 
better.  TOLLET. 


sc.ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  211 

The  croaking  raven 

Doth  bellow  for  revenge. 

Luc.  Thoughts  black,  hands  apt,  drugs  fit,  and 

time  agreeing ; 

Confederate  season,  else  no  creature  seeing ; 
Thou  mixture  rank,  of  midnight  weeds3  collected, 
With  Hecat's  ban  thrice  blasted,  thrice  infected, 
Thy  natural  magick  and  dire  property, 
On  wholesome  life  usurp  immediately. 

\_Pours  the  Poison  into  the  Sleeper's  Ears. 

HAM.  He  poisons  him  i'the  garden  for  his  estate. 
His  name's  Gonzago :  the  story  is  extant,  and 
written  in  very  choice  Italian :  You  shall  see  anon, 
how  the  murderer  gets  the  love  of  Gonzago's 
wife. 

OPH.  The  king  rises. 

HAM.  What !  frighted  with  false  fire  !4 

QUEEN.  How  fares  my  lord  ? 

POL.  Give  o'er  the  play. 

KING.  Give  me  some  light : — away ! 

POL.  Lights,  lights,  lights  !5 

\JKxeunt  all  but  HAMLET  and  HORATIO. 


3  midnight  taeeds — ]    The  force  of  the  epithet — mid- 

mght,  will  be  best  displayed  by  a  corresponding  passage  ,jn 
Macbeth  : 

"  Root  of  hemlock,  digg'd  i'the  dark."     STEEVENS. 

4  What !  frighted  luithfalsejire !"]    This  speech  is  omitted  ip. 
the  quartos.     STEEVENS. 

*  Lights,  lights,  lights!]     The  quartos  give  this  speech  to 
Polonius.     STEEVENS. 

In  the  folio  All  is  prefixed  to  this  speech.    MA  LONE. 

P  2 


HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

H-Mf.Why,  let  the  strucken  deer  go  weep,6 

1  he  hart  ungalled  play : 
For  some  must  watch,  while  some  must  sleep; 

Thus  runs  the  world  away. — 
Would  not  this,  sir,  and  a  forest  of  feathers,7  (if 
the  rest  of  my  fortunes  turn  Turk  with  me,8)  writh 
two  Provencial  roses  on  my  razed  shoes,9  get  me  a 
fellowship  in  a  cry  of  players,1  sir  ? 

8  strucken  deer  go  tueepr']  See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  4-3,  n.  8. 

STEEVENS. 

7  Would  not  this,  sir,  and  a  forest  of  feathers,  #c.]  ,It  appears 
from  Decker's  Gul's  Hornbooke,  that  feathers  were  much  worn 
on  the  stage  in  Shakspeare's  time.     MALONE. 

I  believe,  since  the  English  stage  began,  feathers  were  worn 
by  every  company  of  players  that  could  afford  to  purchase  them. 

STEEVENS. 

8  turn  Turk  with  me,]    This  expression  has  occurred 

already  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  and  I  have  met  with  it  in 
several   old   comedies.     So,  in   Greene's    Tu    Quoque,    1614: 
"  This  it  is  to  turn  Turk,  from  an  absolute  and  most  compleat 
gentleman,  to  a  most  absurd,  ridiculous,  and  fond  lover."     It 
means,  I  believe,  no  more  than  to  change  condition  fantastically. 
Again,  in  Decker's  Honest  Whore,  1635  :• 

" 'tis  damnation, 

"  If  you  turn  Turk  again." 

Perhaps  the  phrase  had  its  rise  from  some  popular  story  like 
that  of  Ward  and  Dansiker,  the  two  famous  pirates ;  an  account 
of  whose  overthrow  was  published  by  A.  Barker,  1609:  and,  in 
1612,  a  play  was  written  on  the  same  subject  called  A  Christian 
turned  Turk.  STEEVENS. 

9  Provencial  roses  on  my  razed  shoes,~]   [Old  copies — pro- 
vincial.']   Why  provincial  roses  ?     Undoubtedly  we  should  read 
—Provencial,  or  (with  the  French  f )  Provencal.     He  means 
roses  of  Provence,  a  beautiful  species  of  rose,  and  formerly  much 
cultivated.     T.  WARTON. 

They  are  still  more  cultivated  than  any  other  flower  of  the 
same  tribe.  STEEVENS. 

When  shoe-strings  were  worn,  they  were  covered,  where  they 
met  in  the  middle,  by  a  ribband,  gathered  in  the  form  of  a  rose. 
So,  in  an  old  Song : 

"  Gil-de-Roy  was  a  bonny  boy, 

"  Had  roses  tull  his  skoon."    JOHNSON. 


sc.n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  213 

HOR.  Half  a  share. 

These  roses  are  .often  mentioned  by  our  ancient  dramatick 
writers. 

So,  in  The  Demi's  Law-case,  1623  : 

"  With  overblown  roses  to  hide  your  gouty  ancles." 

Again,  in  The  Roaring  Girl,  1611:  " many  handsome 

legs  in  silk  stockings  have  villainous  splay-feet,  for  all  their  great 
roses." 

The  reading  of  the  quartos  is  raz'd  shoes;  that  of  the  folio 
rac'd  shoes.  Razed  shoes  may  mean  slashed  shoes,  i.  e.  with  cuts 
or  openings  in  them.  The  poet  might  have  written  raised  shoes, 
i.  e.  shoes  with  high  heels;  such  as  by  adding  to  the  stature,  are 
supposed  to  increase  the  dignity  of  a  player.  In  Stubbs's  Ana- 
tomie  of  Abuses,  1595,  there  is  a  chapter  on  the  corked  shoes  in 
England,  "which  (lie  says)  beare  them  up  two  inches  or  more 
from  the  ground,  &c.  some  of  red,  blacke,  &c.  razed,  carved, 
cut,  and  stitched,"  &c. 

Again,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  1602,  B.  IX-  ch. 
xlvii : 

"  Then  wore  they  shoes  of  ease,  now  of  an  inch-broad, 
corked  high." 

Mr.  Pope  reads— rawea?  shoes,  i.e.  (as  interpreted  by  Dr. 
Johnson)  "shoes  braided  in  lines."  Stowe's  Chronicle,  anno 
1353,  mentions  women's  hoods  reyed  or  striped.  Raie  is  the 
French  word  for  a  stripe.  Johnson's  Collection  of  'Ecclesiastical 
Laws  informs  us,  under  the  years  1222  and  1353,  that  in  dis- 
obedience of  the  canon,  the  clergy's  shoes  were  checquered  with 
red  and  green,  exceeding  long,  and  variously  pinked. 

The  reading'  of  the  quartos  may  likewise  receive  additional 
support.  Bulwer,  in  his  Artificial  Changeling,  speaks  of  gallants 
who  pink  and  raze  their  satten,  damask,  and  Duretto  skins.  To 
raze  and  to  race,  alike  signify  to  streak.  See  Minsheu's  Diet,  in 
v.  To  rase.  The  word,  though  diiferently  spelt,  is  used  in  nearly 
the  same  signification  in  Markham's  Country  Farm,  p.  585 : 
"  — baking  all  (i.  e.  wafer  cakes)  together  between  two  irons, 
having  within  them  many  raced  and  checkered  draughts  after 
the  manner  of  small  squares."  STEEVENS. 

1  a  cry  of  player  s,~]   Allusion  to  a  pack  of  hounds. 

WARBURTON. 

A  pack  of  hounds  was  once  called  a  cry  of  hounds.  So,  i« 
The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  by  Shakspeare  and  Fletcher : 

" and  well  have  halloo'd 

"  To  a  deep  cry  of  hounds." 
Again,  in  A  Midsummer- Night's  Dream: 


214  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

HAM.  A  whole  one,  I.* 

For  thou  dost  know,  O  Damon  dear,3 

This  realm  dismantled  was 
Of  Jove  himself;  and  now  reigns  here 

A  very,  very — peacock.4 


•  a  cru  more  tuneable 


"  Was  never  halloo'd  to,  or  cheer'*!  with  horn." 
Milton,  likewise,  has — "  A  cry  of  hell-hounds." 

STEEVENS. 

a  cry  of  players,]  A  troop  or  company  of  players.     So, 


in  Coriolanus; 

" You  have  made  good  work, 

"  You  and  your  cry" 

Again,  in  a  strange  Horse-race,  by  Thomas  Decker,  1613: 
"  The  last  race  they  ran,  (for  you  must  know  they  ran  many,) 
was  from  a  cry  of  Serjeants."  MALONE. 

*  Hor.  Haifa  share. 
Ham.  A  whole  one,  I.]     It  should  be,  I  think, — 

A  whole  one; — ay, — 

For  &c. 

The  actors  in  our  author's  time  had  not  annual  salaries  as  at 
present.  The  whole  receipts  of  each  theatre  were  divided  into 
shares,  of  which  the  proprietors  of  the  theatre,  or  house-keepers, 
as  they  were  called,  had  some ;  and  each  actor  had  one  or  more 
shares,  or  part  of  a  share,  according  to  his  merit.  See  The 
Account  of  the  Ancient  Theatres,  Vol.  III.  MALONE. 

A  whole  one,  I,  in  familiar  language,  means  no  more  than — 
'  I  think  myself  entitled  to  a  whole  one.  STEEVENS. 

—  O  Damon  dear,"]  Hamlet  calls  Horatio  by  this  name, 
in  allusion  to  the  celebrated  friendship  between  Damon  and 
Pythias.  A  play  on  this  subject  was  written  by  Richard  Ed- 
wards, and  published  in  1582.  STEEVENS. 

The  friendship  of  Damon  and  Pythias  is  also  enlarged  upon 
in  a  book  that  was  probably  very  popular  in  Shakspeare's  youth, 
Sir  Thomas  Eliot's  Governour,  1553.  MALONE. 

4  A  very,  very — peacock.]  This  alludes  to  a  fable  of  the 
birds  choosing  a  king ;  instead  of  the  eagle,  a  peacock.  POPE. 

The  old  copies  have  it  paiock,  paicocke,  and  pajocke.  I  sub- 
stitute paddock,  as  nearest  to  the  traces  of  the  corrupted  read- 
ing. I  have,  as  Mr.  Pope  says,  been  willing  to  substitute  any 
thing  in  the  place  of  his  peacock.  He  thinks  a  fable  alluded  to, 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  215 

HOR.  You  might  have  rhymed. 

HAM.  O  good  Horatio,  I'll  take  the  ghost's  word 
for  a  thousand  pound.  Didst  perceive  ? 

HOR.  Very  well,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Upon  the  talk  of  the  poisoning, 

HOR.  I  did  very  well  note  him. 

of  the  birds  choosing  a  king ;  instead  of  the  eagle,  a  peacock.  I 
suppose,  he  must  mean  the  fable  of  Barlandus,  in  which  it  is  said, 
the  birds,  being  weary  of  their  state  of  anarchy,  moved  for  the 
setting  up  of  a  king  ;  and  the  peacock  was  elected  on  account  of 
his  gay  feathers.  But,  with  submission,  in  this  passage  of  our 
Shakspeare,  there  is  not  the  least  mention  made  of  the  eagle  in 
antithesis  to  the  peacock;  and  it  must  be  by  a  very  uncommon 
figure,  that  Jove  himself  stands  in  the  place  of  his  bird.  I 
think,  Hamlet  is  setting  his  father's  and  uncle's  characters  in 
contrast  to  each  other :  and  means  to  say,  that  by  his  father's 
death  the  state  was  stripped  of  a  godlike  monarch,  and  that  now 
in  his  stead  reigned  the  most  despicable  poisonous  animal  that 
could  be ;  a  mere  paddock  or  toad.  PAD,  btifo,  rubeta  major; 
a  toad.  This  word  I  take  to  be  of  Hamlet's  own  substituting. 
The  verses,  repeated,  seem  to  be  from  some  old  ballad ;  in 
which,  rhyme  being  necessary,  I  doubt  not  but  the  last  verse 
ran  thus : 

A  very,  very ass.     THEOBALD. 

A  peacock  seems  proverbial  for  a  fool.  Thus,  Gascoigne,  in 
his  Weeds: 

"  A  theefe,  a  cowarde,  and  apeacocke  foole." 

FARMER. 

In  the  last  scene  of  this  Act,  Hamlet,  speaking  of  the  King, 
uses  the  expression  which  Theobald  would  introduce : 
"  Would  from  a  paddock,  from  a  bat,  a  gib, 
"  Such  dear  concernments  hide?" 

The  reading,  peacock,  which  I  believe  to  be  the  true  one,  was 
first  introduced  by  Mr.  Pope. 

Mr.  Theobald  is  unfaithful  in  his  account  of  the  old  copies. 
No  copy  of  authority  reads — paicocke.  The  quarto,  1604,  has 
paiock ;  the  folio,  1623,  paiocke. 

Shakspeare,  I  suppose,  means,  that  the  King  struts  about  with 
a  false  pomp,  to  which  he  has  no  right.  See  Florio's  Italian 
Dictionary,  1568:  "  Pavonnegiare.  To  jet  up  and  down, 
fondly  gazing  upon  himself,  as  a  peacock  doth."  MALONE. 


216  HAMLET,  ACTIII. 

HAM.  Ah,  ha ! — Come,  some  musick ;  come,  the 
recorders. — 

For  if  the  king  like  not  the  comedy, 

Why  then,  belike,5 — he  likes  it  not,  perdy.6 — 

Enter  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN, 

Come,  some  musick, 

GUIL.  Good  my  lord,  vouchsafe  me  a  word  with 
you. 

HAM.  Sir,  a  whole  history. 

GUIL.  The  king,  sir, 

HAM.  Ay,  sir,  what  of  him  ? 

GUIL.  Is,  in  his  retirement,  marvellous  distem- 
pered. 

HAM.  With  drink,  sir  ?7 

GUIL.  No,  my  lord,  with  choler. 

HAM.  Your  wisdom  should  show  itself  more 
richer,  to  signify  this  to  the  doctor ;  for,  for  me  to 
put  him  to  his  purgation,  would,  perhaps,  plunge 
him  into  more  choler. 

GuiL.Good  mylord,put  your  discourse  into  some 
frame,  and  start  not  so  wildly  from  my  affair. 

HAM.  I  am  tame,  sir : — pronounce. 


*  Why  then,  belike,']     Hamlet  was  going  on  to  draw  the  con- 
sequence, when  the  courtiers  entered.     JOHNSON. 

6  he  likes  it  not,  perdy.]    Perdy  is  the  corruption  of 

far  Dieu,  and  is  not  uncommon  in  the  old  plays.     So,  in  The 
Play  of  the  Four  P's,  1569: 

"  In  that,  you  Palmer,  as  deputie, 

"  May  clearly  discharge  him,  pardie."     STEEVENS. 

7  With  drink,  sir  f~\     Hamlet  takes  particular  care  that  his 
Uncle's  love  of  drink  shall  not  be  forgotten.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  u.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          217 

GUIL.  The  queen,  your  mother,  in  most  great 
affliction  of  spirit,  hath  sent  me  to  you. 

HAM.  You  are  welcome. 

GUIL.  Nay,  good  my  lord,  this  courtesy  is  not 
of  the  right  breed.  If  it  shall  please  you  to  make 
me  a  wholesome  answer,  I  will  do  your  mother's 
commandment :  if  not,  your  pardon,  and  my  re- 
turn, shall  be  the  end  01  my  business. 

HAM.  Sir,  I  cannot. 
GUIL.  What,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Make  you  a  wholesome  answer  j  my  wit's 
diseased :  But,  sir,  such  answer  as  I  can  make,  you 
shall  command ;  or,  rather,  as  you  say,  my  mother: 
therefore  no  more,  but  to  the  matter :  My  mother, 
you  say, 

Ros.  Then  thus  she  says ;  Your  behaviour  hath 
struck  her  into  amazement  and  admiration. 

HAM.  O  wonderful  son,  that  can  so  astonish  a 
mother ! — But  is  there  no  sequel  at  the  heels  of 
this  mother's  admiration  ?  impart. 

Ros.  She  desires  to  speak  with  you  in  her  closet, 
ere  you  go  to  bed. 

HAM.  We  shall  obey,  were  she  ten  times  our 
mother.  Have  you  any  further  trade8  with  us? 

Ros.  My  lord,  you  once  did  love  me. 

HAM.  And  do  still,  by  these  pickers  and  stealers.9 


*, — --further  trade — ~\     Further  business;  further  dealing. 

JOHNSON. 

* by  these  pickers  &c.]     By  these  hands.     JOHNSON. 

By  these  hands,  says  Dr.  Johnson,  and  rightly.  But  the  phrase 
is  taken  from  our  church  catechism,  where  the  catechumen,  in 
his  duty  to  his  neighbour,  is  taught  to  keep  his  hands  from  pick 
iitg  and  stealing.  WHALLEY. 


218  HAMLET,  ACTIII. 

Ros.  Good  my  lord,  what  is  your  cause  of  dis- 
temper ?  you  do,  surely,  but  bar  the  door  upon  your 
own  liberty,  if  you  deny  your  griefs  to  your  friend. 

HAM.  Sir,  I  lack  advancement. 

Ros.  How  can  that  be,  when  you  have  the  voice  of 
the  king  himself  for  your  succession  in  Denmark?1 

HAM.  Ay,  sir,  but  While  the  grass  grows, — the 
proverb  is  something  musty.2 

Enter  the  Players,  with  Recorders.3 

O,  the  recorders : — let  me  see  one. — To  withdraw 
with  you  :* — Why  do  you  go  about  to  recover  the 

1 "when  you  have  the  voice,  of  the  king  himself  for  your  suc- 
cession in  Denmark^']  See  p.  35,  n.  8.  MALONE. 

*  Ay,  sir,  but,  While  the  grass  grows, — the  proverb  is  some- 
thing musty.']  The  remainder  of  this  old  proverb  is  preserved  in 
Whetstone's  Promos  and  Cassandra,  1 578 : 

*'  WTiylst  grass  doth  growe,  oft  sterves  the  seely  steede." 
Again,  in  The  Paradise  ofdaintie  Devises,  1578: 
"  To  whom  of  old  this  proverbe  well  it  serves, 
"  While  grass  doth  growe,  the  silly  horse  he  starves." 
Hamlet  means  to  intimate,  that  whilst  he  is  waiting  for  the  suc- 
cession to  the  throne  of  Denmark,  he  may  himself  be  taken  off 
by  death.     MALONE. 

* Recorders.^]     i.  e.  a  kind  of  large  flute.     See  Vol.  IV. 

p.  4-72,  n.  4. 

To  record  anciently  signified  to  sing  or  modulate.   STEEVENS. 

4  To  withdraw  with  you :]  These  last  words  have  no  meaning, 
as  they  stand  ;  yet  none  of  the  editors  have  attempted  to  amend 
them.  They  were  probably  spoken  to  the  Players,  whom  Ham- 
let wished  to  get  rid  of: — I  therefore  should  suppose  that  we 
ought  to  read,  "  so,  withdraw  you ;"  or,  "  so  withdraw,  will 
you  ?"  M.  MASON. 

HcreMr.Malone  adds  the  following  stage  direction: — [  Taking 
Guildenstern  aside.]  But  the  foregoing  obscure  words  may  refer 
to  some  gesture  which  Guildenstern  had  used,  and  which,  at  first, 
was  interpreted  by  Hamlet  into  a  signal  for  him  to  attend  the 
speaker  into  another  room.  "  To  withdraw  with  you  ?"  (says 


sc.ii.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  219 

wind  of  me,5  as  if  you  would  drive  me  into  a 
toil? 

GUIL.  O,  my  lord,  if  my  duty  be  too  bold,  my 
love  is  too  unmannerly.6 

HAM.  I  do  not  well  understand  that.  Will  you 
play  upon  this  pipe  ? 

GUIL.  My  lord,  I  cannot. 

HAM.  I  pray  you. 

GUIL.  Believe  me,  I  cannot. 

HAM.  I  do  beseech  you. 

GUIL.  I  know  no  touch  of  it,  my  lord. 

he)  Is  that  your  meaning  ?  But  finding  his  friends  continue  to 
move  mysteriously  about  him,  he  adds,  with  some  resentment, 
a  question  more  easily  intelligible.  STEEVENS. 

4 recover  the  ivind  of  me,']     So,  in  an  ancient  MS.  play 

entitled  The  Second  Maiden's  Tragedy  : 

" Is  that  next  ? 

"  Why,  then  I  have  your  ladyship  in  the  wind." 

STEEVENS, 

Again,  in  Churchyard's  Worthiness  of  Wales: 

"  Their  cunning  can  with  craft  so  cloke  a  troeth, 
"  That  hardly  we  shall  have  them  in  the  tvinde, 
"  To  smell  them  forth  or  yet  their  fineness  finde." 

HENDERSON. 

6  0,  my  lord,  if  my  duty  be  too  bold,  my  love  is  too  unmannerly.'] 
i.  e.  if  my  duty  to  the  king  makes  me  press  you  a  little,  my  love 
to  you  makes  me  still  more  importunate.  If  that  makes  me  bold, 
this  makes  me  even  unmannerly.  WARBURTON. 

I  believe  we  should  read — my  love  is  not  unmannerly.  My 
conception  of  this  passage  is,  that,  in  consequence  of  Hamlet's 
moving  to  take  the  recorder,  Guildenstern  also  shifts  his  ground, 
in  order  to  place  himself  beneath  the  prince  in  his  new  position. 
This,  Hamlet  ludicrously  calls  "going  about  to  recover  the  uind," 
&c.  and  Guildenstern  may  answer  properly  enough,  I  think,  and 
like  a  courtier  :  "  if  my  duty  to  the  king  makes  me  too  bold  in 
pressing  you  upon  a  disagreeable  subject,  my  love  to  you  will 
make  me  not  unmannerly,  in  showing  you  all  possible  marks  of 
respect  and  attention."  TYRWHITT. 


220  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

HAM.  'Tis  as  easy  as  lying :  govern  these  ven- 
tages7 with  your  fingers  and  thumb,8  give  it  breath 
with  your  mouth,  and  it  will  discourse  most  elo- 
quent musick.  Look  you,  these  are  the  stops.9 

GUIL.  But  these  cannot  I  command  to  any  ut- 
terance of  harmony;  I  have  not  the  skill. 

i ventages — ]     The  holes  of  a  flute.     JOHNSON. 

O  • 

• and  thumb,']   The  first  quarto  reads — with  your  jingers 

and  the  umber.  This  may  probably  be  the  ancient  name  for 
that  piece  of  moveable  brass  at  the  end  of  a  flute  which  is  either 
raised  or  depressed  by  the  finger.  The  word  umber  is  used  by 
Stowe  the  chronicler,  who,  describing  a  single  combat  between 
two  knights,  says — "  he  brast  up  his  umber  three  times."  Here, 
the  umber  means  the  visor  of  the  helmet.  So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy 
Qtieene,  B.  III.  c.  i.  St.  42: 

"  But  the  brave  maid  would  not  disarmed  be, 

"  But  only  vented  up  her  umbriere, 

"  And  so  did  let  her  goodly  visage  to  appere." 
Again,  Book  IV.  c.  iv: 

"  And  therewith  smote  him  on  his  umbriere.1* 
Again,  in  the  Second  Book  of  Lidgate  on  the  Trojan  War, 
1513: 

"  Thorough  the  umber  into  Troylus'  face."    STEEVENS. 

If  a  recorder  had  a  brass  key  like  the  German  Flute,  we  are 
to  follow  the  reading  of  the  quarto ;  for  then  the  thumb  is  not 
concerned  in  the  government  of  the  ventages  or  stops.  If  a  re- 
corder was  like  a  labourer's  pipe,  which  has  no  brass  key,  but  has 
a  stop  for  the  thumb,  we  are  to  read — Govern  these  ventages 
tvith  your  finger  and  thumb.  In  Cotgrave's  Dictionary,  ombre, 
ombrairc,  ombriere,  and  ombrelle,  are  all  from  the  Latin  umbra, 
and  signify  a  shadow,  an  umbrella,  or  any  thing  that  shades  or 
hides  the  face  from  the  sun ;  and  hence  they  may  have  been  ap- 
plied to  any  thing  that  hides  or  covers  another;  as  for  example, 
they  may  have  been  applied  to  the  brass  key  that  covers  the  hole 
in  the  German  flute.  So,  Spenser  used  umbriere  for  the  visor  of 
the  helmet,  as  Rous's  History  of  the  Kings  of  England  uses 
umbrella  in  the  same  sense.  TOLLET. 

9 the  stops.]  The  sounds  formed  by  occasionally  stopping 

the  holes,  while  the  instrument  is  played  upon.  So,  in  the  rro- 
logue  to  King  Henry  V ' : 

"  Rumour  is  a  pipe — 

"  And  of  so  easy  and  so  plain  a  stop,"  &c.    MALONI. 


se.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  221 

HAM.  Why,  look  you  now,  how  unworthy  a 
thing  you  make  of  me  ?  You  would  play  upon  me ; 
you  would  seem  to  know  my  stops  ;  you  would 
pluck  out  the  heart  of  my  mystery ;  you  would 
sound  me  from  my  lowest  note  to  the  top  of  my 
compass:  and  there  is  much  musick,  excellent 
voice,  in  this  little  organ  ;  yet  cannot  you  make  it 
speak.  'Sblood,  do  you  think,  I  am  easier  to  be 
played  on  than  a  pipe  ?  Call  me  what  instrument 
you  will,  though  you  can  fret  me,  you  cannot  play 
upon  me. 

Enter  POLONIUS. 

God  bless  you,  sir ! 

POL.  My  lord,  the  queen  would  speak  with  you, 
and  presently. 

HAM.  Do  you  see  yonder  cloud,  that's  almost  in 
shape  of  a  camel  ? 

POL.  By  the  mass,  and  'tis  like  a  camel,  indeed. 
HAM.  Methinks,  it  is  like  a  weasel.1 

1  Methinks,  &c.]  This  passage  has  been  printed  in  modern 
editions  thus : 

Ham.  MelMnks,  it  is  like  an  ouzle,  8$c. 
Pol.  It  is  black  like  an  ouzle. 

The  first  folio  reads, — It  is  like  a  weazel. 

Pol.  It  is  back'd  like  a  weazel — :  and  what  occasion  for  al- 
teration there  was,  I  cannot  discover.  The  weasel  is  remarka- 
ble for  the  length  of  its  back;  but  though  I  believe  a  black  weasel 
is  not  easy  to  be  found,  yet  it  is  likely  that  the  cloud  should 
resemble  a  iveasel  in  shape,  as  an  ouzle  (i.  e.  black-bird)  in 
colour. 

Mr.  Toilet  observes,  that  we  might  read — "  it  is  beck'd  like  a 
weasel,"  i.  e.  weasel-snouted.  So,  in  Holinshed's  Description  of 
England,  p.  172:  "  if  he  be  wesell-beched."  Quarles  uses  this 
term  of  reproach  in  his  Virgin  Widow:  "  Go  you  ueazel- 
snouted,  addle-pated,"  &c.  Mr.  Toilet  adds,  that  Milton  in  his 


222  HAMLET,  ACT  III. 

POL.  It  is  backed  like  a  weasel. 

HAM.  Or,  like  a  whale  ? 

POL.  Very  like  a  whale. 

HAM.  Then  will  I  come  to  my  mother  by  and 
by. — They  fool  me'  to  the  top  of  my  bent.2 — I  will 
come  by  and  by. 

POL.  I  will  say  so.  [Exit  POLONIUS. 

HAM.  By  and  by  is  easily  said. — Leave  me, 
friends.  [Exeunt  Ros.  GUIL.  HOR.  fyc. 

'Tis  now  the  very  witching  time  of  night ; 
When  churchyards  yawn,  and  hell  itself  breathes 

out 
Contagion  to  this  world :  Now  could  I  drink  hot 

blood, 
And  do  such  business  as  the  bitter  day3 

Lycidas,  calls  a  promontory  leaked,  i.  e.  prominent  like  the  beak 
of  a  bird,  or  a  ship.     STEEVENS. 

Ham.  Methinks  it  is  like  a  ttieazel. 

Pol.  It  is  backed  like  a  lweazel.~\  Thus  the  quarto,  1604,  and 
the  folio.  In  a  more  modern  quarto,  that  of  1611,  backed,  the 
original  reading,  was  corrupted  into  black. 

Perhaps  in  the  original  edition  the  words  camel  and  ivcazel 
Were  shuffled  out  of  their  places.  The  poet  might  have  intended 
the  dialogue  to  proceed  thus  : 

"  Ham.  Do  you  see  yonder  cloud,  that's  almost  in  the 

shape  of  a  ixeazel  ? 

"  Pol.  By  the  mass,  and  'tis  like  a  weazel,  indeed. 
"  Ham.  Methinks,  it  is  like  a  camel. 
"  Pol.  It  is  backed  like  a  camel." 

The  protuberant  back  of  a  camel  seems  more  to  resemble  a 
cloud,  than  the  back  of  a  weazel  does.  MALONE. 

*  They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent.~]  They  compel  me  to 
play  the  fool,  till  I  can  endure  it  no  longer.  JOHNSON. 

Perhaps  a  term  in  archery ;  i.  e .  as  far  as  the  bow  will  admit 
of  being  bent  without  breaking.  DOUCE. 

3  And  do  such  business  as  the  bitter  day — ]  Thus  the  quarto. 
The  folio  reads : 

And  do  such  bitter  business  as  the  day  &c.     MALONE. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  223 

Would  quake  to  look  on.     Soft ;   now  to  my  mo- 
ther.— 

O,  heart,  lose  not  thy  nature  ;  let  not  ever 
The  soul  of  Nero  enter  this  firm  bosom : 
Let  me  be  cruel,  not  unnatural : 
I  will  speak  daggers  to  her,4  but  use  none ; 
My  tongue  and  soul  in  this  be  hypocrites  : 
How  in  my  words  soever  she  be  shent,5 
To  give  them  seals6  never,  my  soul,  consent ! 

[Exit. 

The  expression  bitter  business  is  still  in  use,  and  though  at 
'  present  a  vulgar  phrase,  might  not  have  been  such  in  the  age  of 
Shakspeare.  The  bitter  day  is  the  day  rendered  hateful  or  bitter 
by  the  commission  of  some  act  of  mischief. 

Watts,  in  his  Logick,  says,  "  Bitter  is  an  equivocal  word ; 
there  is  bitter  wormwood,  there  are  bitter  words,  there  are  bitter 
enemies,  and  a  bitter  cold  morning."  It  is,  in  short,  any  thing 
unpleasing  or  hurtful.  STEEVENS. 

4 1  will  speak  daggers  to  her,"]  A  similar  expression  occurs  in 
The  Return  from  Parnassus,  1606 :  "  They  are  pestilent  fellows, 
they  speak  nothing  but  bodkins."  It  has  been  already  observed, 
that  a  bodkin  anciently  signified  a  short  dagger. 

It  may,  however,  be  observed,  that  in  the  Aulularia  of  Plau- 
tus,  Act  II.  sc.  i.  a  phrase  not  less  singular  occurs : 
"  ME.  Quia  mihi  misero  cerebrum  excutiunt 
"  Tua  dicta,  soror :  lapides  loqueris."     STEEVENS. 

* be  shent,]     To  shend,  is  to  reprove  harshly,  to  treat 

with  rough  language.     So,  in  The  Coxcomb  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher : 

" We  shall  be  shent  soundly."     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  224,  n.  2.    MALONE. 

Shent  seems  to  mean  something  more  than  reproof,  by  the 
following  passage  from  The  Mirror  for  Magistrates  :  Thomas 
Mowbray,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  is  the  speaker,  and  he  relates  his 
having  betrayed  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  and  his  confederates  to 
the  King,  "  for  which  (says  he)  they  were  all  tane  and  shent." 

Hamlet  surely  means,  "  however  my  mother  may  be  hurt, 
tvounded,  orpunish'd,  by  my  words,  let  me  never  consent"  &c. 

HENDERSON. 

'  To  give  them  seals — ]    i.  e.  put  them  in  execution. 

WARBURTOK. 


224  HAMLET,  ACT  III. 

SCENE  III. 

A  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  King,  ROSENCRANTZ,  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

KING.  I  like  him  not  j  nor  stands  it  safe  with  us, 
To  let  his  madness  range.  Therefore,  prepare  you ; 
I  your  commission  will  forthwith  despatch, 
And  he  to  England  shall  along  with  you  :7 
The  terms  of  our  estate  may  not  endure 
Hazard  so  near  us,  as  doth  hourly  grow 
Out  of  his  lunes.8 


~  I  like  him  not ;  nor  stands  it  safe  "with  us, 
To  let  his  madness  range.     Therefore,  prepare  you; 
I  your  commission  "will  forthwith  despatch. 
And  he  to  England  shall  along  with  you  .-]     In  The  Hystory 
of  Hamblett,  bl.  1.  the  King  does  not  adopt  this  scheme  of  sending 
Hamlet  to  England  till  after  the  death  of  Polonius ;  and  though 
he  is  described  as  doubtful  whether  Polonius  was  slain  by  Hamlet, 
his  apprehension  lest  he  might  himself  meet  the  same  rate  as  the 
old  courtier,  is  assigned  as  the  motive  for  his  wishing  the  Prince 
out  of  the  kingdom.    This  at  first  inclined  me  to  think  that  this 
short  scene,  either  from  the  negligence  of  the  copyist  or  the 
printer,  might  have  been  misplaced ;  but  it  is  certainly  printed 
as  the  author  intended,  for  in  the  next  scene  Hamlet  says  to  his 
mother,  "  I  must  to  England;  you  know  that,"  before  the  King 
could  have  heard  of  the  death  of  Polonius.     MA  LONE. 

8  Out  of  his  lunes.]     [The  folio  reads — Out  of  his  lunacies.] 
The  old  quartos : 

Out  of  his  brows. 

This  was  from  the  ignorance  of  the  first  editors ;  as  is  this  un- 
necessary Alexandrine,  which  we  owe  to  the  players.  The  poet, 
I  am  persuaded,  wrote : 

as  doth  hourly  grow 

Out  of  his  lunes. 
i.  e.  lus  madness, frenzy.    THEOBALD. 


sc.  m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          225- 

GUIL.  We  will  ourselves  provide : 

Most  holy  and  religious  fear  it  is, 


I  take  brows  to  be,  properly  read,  frows,  which,  I  think,  is  a 
provincial  word  for  perverse  humours;  which  being,  I  suppose, 
not  understood,  was  changed  to  lunacies.  But  of  this  I  am  not 
confident.  JOHNSON. 

I  would  receive  Theobald's  emendation,  because  Shakspeare 
uses  the  word  lunes  in  the  same  sense  in  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,  and  The  Winter's  Tale. 

I  have  met,  however,  with  an  instance  in  support  of  Dr. 
Johnson's  conjecture : 

" were  you  but  as  favourable  as  you  arefrotvish — " 

Tully's  Love,  by  Greene,  1616. 

Froes  is  also  used  by  Chapman,  in  his  version  of  the  sixth 
Iliad,  for  furious  women: 

" ungodly  fears 

"  He  put  thefroes  in,  seiz'd  their  god — ." 
Perhaps,  however,   Shakspeare  designed  a  metaphor  from 
horned  cattle,  whose  powers  of  being  dangerous  increase  with 
the  growth  of  their  brows.     STEEVENS. 

The  two  readings  of  brows  and  lunes — when  taken  in  con- 
nection with  the  passages  referred  to  by  Mr.  Steevens,  in  The 
Winter's  Tale,  and  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  plainly  figure 
forth  the  image  under  which  the  King  apprehended  danger  from 
Hamlet : — viz.  that  of  a  bull,  which,  in  his  frenzy,  might  not 
only  gore,  but  push  him  from  his  throne. — "  The  hazard  that 
hourly  grows  out  of  his  BROWS"  (according  to  the  quartos)  cor- 
responds to  "  the  SHOOTS  from  the  ROUGH  PASH,"  [that  is  the 
TUFTED  PROTUBERANCE  on  the  head  of  a  bull,  from  whence  his 
horns  spring,"]  alluded  to  in  The  Winter's  Tale;  whilst  the  im- 
putation of  impending  danger  to  "  his  LUNES"  (according  to  the 
other  reading)  answers  as  obviously  to  the  jealous  fury  of  the 
husband  that  thinks  he  has  detected  the  infidelity  of  his  wife. 
Thus,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor:  "Why,  woman,  your 
husband  is  in  his  old  lunes — he  so  takes  on  yonder  with  my  hus- 
band ;  so  rails  against  all  married  mankind ;  so  curses  all  Eve's 
daughters,  and  so  buffets  himself  on  the  forehead,  crying  peer 
out !  peer  out !  that  any  madness,  I  ever  yet  beheld,  seem'd  but 
tameness,  civility,  and  patience,  to  this  distemper  he  is  now  in." 

HENLEY. 

r  Shakspeare  probably  had  here  the  following  passage  in  The 
Hystory  of  Hamblet,  bl.  1.  in  his  thoughts :  "  Fengan  could  not 
VOL.  XVIII.  Q 


226  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

To  keep  those  many  many  bodies  safe, 
That  live,  and  feed,  upon  your  majesty. 

Ros.  The  single  and  peculiar  life  is  bound, 
With  all  the  strength  and  armour  of  the  mind, 
To  keep  itself  from  'noyance ;  but  much  more 
That  spirit,  upon  whose  weal9  depend  and  rest 
The  lives  of  many.     The  cease  of  majesty 
Dies  not  alone  ;  but,  like  a  gulf,  doth  draw 
What's  near  it,  with  it :  it  is  a  massy  wheel,1 
Fix'd  on  the  summit  of  the  highest  mount, 
To  whose  huge  spokes  ten  thousand  lesser  things 
Are  mortis'd  and  adjoin'd  ;  which,  when  it  falls, 
Each  small  annexment,  petty  consequence, 
Attends  the  boist'rous  ruin.     Never  alone 
Did  the  king  sigh,  but  with  a  general  groan. 

KING.  Arm  you,   I  pray  you,  to  this  speedy 

voyage ; 

For  we  will  fetters  put  upon  this  fear, 
Which  now  goes  too  free-footed. 

Ros.  GUIL.  We  will  haste  us. 

[Exeunt  ROSENCEANTZ  <§p  GUILDENSTERN. 

Enter  POLONIUS. 
POL.  My  lord,  he's  going  to  his  mother's  closet : 

content  himselfe,  but  still  his  minde  gave  him  that  thefoole 
[Hamlet~\  would  play  him  some  trick  of  legerdemaine.  And  in 
that  conceit  seeking  to  be  rid  of  him,  determined  to  find  the 
meanes  to  do  it,  by  the  aid  of  a  stranger ;  making  the  king  of 
England  minister  of  his  massacrous  resolution,  to  whom  he  pur- 
posed to  send  him."  M ALONE. 

'  That  spirit,  upon  lahose  weal — ]  So  the  quarto.     The  folio 
gives — 

That  spirit,  upon  whose  spirit .     STEEVENS. 

—  it  is  a  massu  'wheel,']     Thus  the  folio.     The  quarto 
reads — Or  it  is  &c.    M  ALONE. 


sc.  in.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          227 

Behind  the  arras  I'll  convey  myself,2 

To  hear  the  process  j  I'll  warrant,  she'll  tax  him 
home: 

And,  as  you,  said,  and  wisely  was  it  said, 

'Tis  meet,  that  some  more  audience,  than  a  mo- 
ther, 

Since  nature  makes  them  partial,3  should  o'erhear 

The  speech,  of  vantage.4    Fare  you  well,  my  liege : 

I'll  call  upon  you  ere  you  go  to  bed, 

And  tell  you  what  I  know, 

KING.  Thanks,  dear  my  lord. 

\JRxit  POLONIUS. 

O,  my  offence  is  rank,  it  smells  to  heaven  j 
It  hath  the  primal  eldest  curse  upon't, 
A  brother's  murder ! — Pray  can  I  not, 
Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  will  j5 

4  Behind  the  arras  Pll  convey  myself,"]     See  Vol.  XI.  p.  311, 
n.  9.     STEEVENS. 

The  arras-hangings  in  Shakspeare's  time,  were  hung  at  such  a 
distance  from  the  walls,  that  a  person  might  easily  stand  behind 
them  unperceived.  MALONE. 

3  Since  nature  makes  them  partial,  &c.] 

« Matres  omnes  filiis 

"  In  peccato  adjutrices,  auxilii  in  paterna  injuria 
"  Solent  esse ."     Ter.  Heaut.  Act.  V.  sc.  ii. 

STEEVENS. 

4 of  vantage.]  By  some  opportunity  of  secret  observation 

WARBURTON_ 

5  Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  will ;]     Dr.  Warburton 
would  read : 

Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  th*  ill. 
The  old  reading  is — as  sharp  as  will.     STEEVENS. 

I  have  followed  the  easier  emendation  of  Mr.  Theobald,  re- 
ceived by  Sir  T.  Hanmer  :  i.  e.  as  'twill.  JOHNSON. 

Will  is  command,  direction.  Thus,  Ecclesiasticus,  xliii.  16 
"  — and  at  his  will  the  south  wind  blovveth."  The  King  says, 

Q2 


228  HAMLET,  ACT  III. 

My  stronger  guilt  defeats  my  strong  intent ; 
And,  like  a  man  to  double  business  bound, 
I  stand  in  pause  where  I  shall  first  begin, 
And  both  neglect.     What  if  this  cursed  hand 
Were  thicker  than  itself  with  brother's  blood  ? 
Is  there  not  rain  enough  in  the  sweet  heavens, 
To  wash  it  white  as  snow  ?  Whereto  serves  mercy, 
But  to  confront  the  visage  of  offence  ? 
And  what's  in  prayer,  but  this  two-fold  force, — 
To  be  forestalled,  ere  we  come  to  fall, 
Or  pardon'd,  being  down  ?  Then  I'll  look  up ; 
My  fault  is  past.     But,  O,  what  form  of  prayer 
Can  serve  my  turn  ?  Forgive  me  my  foul  murder ! — 
That  cannot  be  ;  since  I  am  still  possess'd 
Of  those  effects  for  which  I  did  the  murder, 
My  crown,  mine  own  ambition,  and  my  queen. 
May  one  be  pardon'd,  and  retain  the  offence  ?6 

his  mind  is  in  too  great  confusion  to  pray,  even  though  his  incli- 
nation were  as  strong  as  the  command  which  requires  that  duty. 

STEEVENS. 

What  the  King  means  to  say,  is,  "  That  though  he  was  not 
only  willing  to  pray,  but  strongly  inclined  to  it,  yet  his  intention 
was  defeated  by  his  guilt." 

The  distinction  I  have  stated  between  inclination  and  will,  is 
supported  by  the  following  passage  in  the  Laws  of  Candy  ,  where 
Philander  says  to  Erato : 

"  I  have  a  will,  I'm  sure,  howe'er  my  heart 
"  May  play  the  coward."     M.  MASON. 

*  May  one  be  pardon'd,  and  retain  the  offence  ?]  He  that  does 
not  amend  what  can  be  amended,  retains  his  offence.  The  King 
kept  the  crown  from  the  right  heir.  JOHNSON. 

A  similar  passage  occurs  in  Philaster,  where  the  King,  who 
had  usurped  the  crown  of  Sicily,  and  is  praying  to  heaven  for 
forgiveness,  says : 

" But  IKW  can  I 

"  Look  to  be  heard  of  gods,  that  must  be  just, 
**  Praying  upon  the  ground  I  hold  by  wrong  ?" 

M.  MASON. 


sc.  in.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          229 

In  the  corrupted  currents  of  this  world, 
Offence's  gilded  hand  may  shove  by  justice ; 
And  oft  'tis  seen,  the  wicked  prize  itself 
Buys  out  the  law :  But  'tis  not  so  above : 
There  is  no  shuffling,  there  the  action  lies 
In  his  true  nature  ;  and  we  ourselves  compell'd, 
Even  to  the  teeth  and  forehead  of  our  faults, 
To  give  in  evidence.     What  then  ?  what  rests  ? 
Try  what  repentance  can  :  What  can  it  not  ? 
Yet  what  can  it,  when  one  can  not  repent  ?7 
O  wretched  state  !  O  bosom,  black  as  death  ! 
O  limed  soul ; 8  that  struggling  to  be  free, 
Art  more  engag'd  !  Help,  angels,  make  assay ! 
Bow,  stubborn  knees !  and,  heart,  with  strings  of 

steel, 

Be  soft  as  sinews  of  the  new-born  babe ; 
All  may  be  well !  [Retires,  and  kneels. 

Enter  HAMLET.  • 

HAM.  Now  might  I  do  it,  pat,  now  he  is  pray- 
ing ;y 

And  now  I'll  do't ; — and  so  he  goes  to  heaven : 
And  so  am  I  reveng'd  ?  That  would  be  scann'd  i1 


7  Yet  ivhat  can  it,  tvken  one  can  not  repent  ?~]      What  can  re- 
pentance do  for  a  man  that  cannot  be  penitent,  for  a  man  who 
has  only  part  of  penitence,  distress  of  conscience,  without  the 
other  part,  resolution  of  amendment  ?     JOHNSON. 

8  0  limed  sow/;]   This  alludes  to  bird-lime.     Shakspeare  uses 
the  same  word  again,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  II : 

"  Madam,  myself  have  lim'd  a  bush  for  her." 

STEEVENS. 

9  pat,  now  he  is  praying ;]   Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos 

read — but  now,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

1  That  icould  le  scanned:']  i.  e.  that  should  be  consi- 
dered, estimated.     STEEVENS. 


230  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

A  villain  kills  my  father ;  and,  for  that, 

I,  his  sole  son,  do  this  same  villain  send2 

To  heaven. 

Why,  this  is  hire  and  salary,3  not  revenge. 

He  took  my  father  grossly,  full  of  bread ; 

With  all  his  crimes  broad  blown,*  as  flush  as  May ; 

And,  how  his  audit  stands,  who  knows,  save  hea* 

venl5 

But,  in  our  circumstance  and  course  of  thought, 
'Tis  heavy  with  him  :  And  am  I  then  reveng'd, 
To  take  him  in  the  purging  of  his  soul, 
When  he  is  fit  and  season' d  for  his  passage  ? 
No. 

Up,  sword ;  and  know  thou  a  more  horrid  hent  :6 
When  he  is  drunk,  asleep,  or  in  his  rage  j 


*  7,  his  sole  son,  do  this  same  villain  send — ]    The  folio  reads 
—foule  son,  a  reading  apparently  corrupted  from  the  quarto. 
The  meaning  is  plain.     /,  his  only  son,  who  am  bound  to  punish 
his  murderer.     JOHNSON. 

3  hire  and  salary,]  Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos  read — 

base  and  silly.     STEEVENS. 

4  He  took  my  father  grossly,  full  of  bread ; 

With  all  his  crimes  broad  blown,']  The  uncommon  expression, 
full  of  bread,  our  poet  borrowed  from  the  sacred  writings  : 

"  Behold,  this  was  the  iniquity  of  thy  sister  Sodom  ;  pride, 
fullness  of  bread,  and  abundance  of  idleness  was  in  her  and  in 

her  daughters,  neither  did  she  strengthen  the  hand  of  the  poor 

and  needy."     Ezekiel,  xvi.  49,     MALONE. 

*  And,  how  his  audit  stands,  who  knows,  save  heaven  f]     As  it 
appears  from  the  Ghost's  own  relation  that  he  was  in  purgatory, 
Hamlet's  doubt  could  only  be  how  long  he  had  to  continue  there. 

RITSON. 

0  Up,  sword;  and  know  thou  a  more  horrid  hent :]  To  hent 
is  used  by  Shakspeare  for  to  seize,  to  catch,  to  lay  hold  on.  Hent 
is,  therefore,  hold,  or  seizure.  Lay  hold  on  him,  sword,  at  a, 
more  horrid  time.  JOHNSON. 


See  Vol.  VI.  p.  381,  n.  3.     STEEVENS. 


sc.m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          231 

Or  in  the  incestuous  pleasures  of  his  bed  ;7 
At  gaming,  swearing ; 8  or  about  some  act 
That  has  no  relish  of  salvation  in't : 
Then  trip  him,  that  his  heels  may  kick  at  heaven  j9 
And  that  his  soul  may  be  as  damn'd,  and  black, 
As  hell,  whereto  it  goes.1     My  mother  stays : 
This  physick  but  prolongs  thy  sickly  days.     \_Exit. 


7  When  he  is  drunk,  asleep,  or  in  his  rage; 

Or  in  the  incestuous  pleasures  of  his  bed;~\   So,  in  Marston's 
Insatiate  Countess,  1613 : 

"  Didst  thou  not  kill  him  drunk  ? 

"  Thou  should'st,  or  in  th*  embraces  of  his  lust." 

STEEVENS. 

*  At  gaming,  swearing ;]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto,  1604, 
reads — At  game,  a  swearing ;  &c.  MALONE. 

9  that  his  heels  may  kick  at  heaven;']    So,  in  Hey  wood's 

Silver  Age,  1613 : 

"  Whose  heels  tript  up,  kicked  gairist  the  Jirmament." 

STEEVENS. 

1  As  hell,  thereto  it  goes.~]  This  speech,  in  which  Hamlet, 
represented  as  a  virtuous  character,  is  not  content  with  taking 
blood  for  blood,  but  contrives  damnation  for  the  man  that  he 
would  punish,  is  too  horrible  to  be  read  or  to  be  uttered. 

JOHNSON. 

This  speech  of  Hamlet's,  as  Johnson  observes,  is  horrible 
indeed;  yet  some  moral  may  be  extracted  from  it,  as  all  his 
subsequent  calamities  were  owing  to  this  savage  refinement  of 
revenge.  M.  MASON. 

That  a  sentiment  so  infernal  should  have  met  with  imitators, 
may  excite  surprize ;  and  yet  the  same  fiend-like  disposition  is 
shown  by  Lodowick,  in  Webster's  White  Devil,  or  Vittoria 
Corombona,  1612: 

•  to  have  poison'd 


Again, 


"  The  handle  of  his  racket.     O,  that,  that ! — 
That  while  he  had  been  bandying  at  tennis, 
He  might  have  sworn  himself  to  hell,  and  struck 
His  soul  into  the  hazard !" 
n  The  Honest  Lawyer,  by  S.  S.  1616: 

"  I  then  should  strike  his  body  with  his  souly 
And  sink  them  both  together." 


232  HAMLET, 


The  King  rises,  and  advances. 

^ 

KING.  My  words  fly  up,  my  thoughts  remain 

below : 
Words,  without  thoughts,  never  to  heaven  go. 


Again,  in  the  third  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Four  Plays  in 
One: 

"  No ;  take  him  dead  drunk  now,  'without  repentance** 

STEEVENS. 

The  same  horrid  thought  has  been  adopted  by  Lewis  Machin, 
in  The  Dumb  Knight,  1633: 

"  Nay,  be  but  patient,  smooth  your  brow  a  little, 
"  And  you  shall  take  them  as  they  clip  each  other ; 
"  Even  in  the  height  of  sin ;  then  damn  them  both, 
"  And  let  them  sink  before  they  ask  God  pardon, 
'*  That  your  revenge  may  stretch  unto  their  souls.'* 

MALONE. 

I  think  it  not  improbable,  that  when  Shakspeare  put  this  hor- 
rid sentiment  into  the  mouth  of  Hamlet,  he  might  have  recol- 
lected the  following  story :  "  One  of  these  monsters  meeting  his 
enemie  unarmed,  threatned  to  kill  him,  if  he  denied  not  God, 
his  power,  and  essential  properties,  viz.  his  mercy,  suflrance, 
&c.  the  which,  when  the  other,  desiring  life,  pronounced  with 
great  horror,  kneeling  upon  his  knees ;  the  bravo  cried  out,  notue 
\uill  I  kill  thy  body  and  soule,  and  at  that  instant  thrust  him 
through  with  nis  rapier."  Brief  Discourse  of  the  Spanish  Statet 
toith  a  Dialogue  annexed  intitka  Philobasilis,  4to.  1590,  p.  24. 

REED. 

A  similar  story  is  told  in  The  Turkish  Spy,  Vol.  III.  p.  243. 

MALONE. 


sc.  iv.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          233 

SCENE  IV, 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  Queen  and  POLONIUS. 

POL.  He  will  come  straight.     Look,  you  lay 

home  to  him : 
Tell  him,  his  pranks  have  been  too  broad  to  bear 

with ; 

And  that  your  grace  hath  screened  and  stood  be- 
tween 

Much  heat  and  him.     I'll  silence  me  e'en  here.2 
Pray  you,  be  round  with  him.3 

QUEEN.  I'll  warrant  you ; 

Fear  me  not : — withdraw,  I  hear  him  coming. 

[POLONIUS  hides  himself^ 

8 I'll  silence  me  e'en  here.~\    I'll  silence  me  even  here,  is, 

I'll  use  no  more  laords.     JOHNSON. 

3  be  round  with  him.']    Here  the  folio  interposes,  impro- 
perly, I  think,  the  following  speech  : 

"  Ham.  [tVithin.']  Mother,  mother,  mother." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Polonius  hides  himself,^  The  concealment  of  Polonius  in  the 
Queen's  chamber,  during  the  conversation  between  Hamlet  and 
his  mother,  and  the  manner  of  his  death,  were  suggested  by 
the  following  passage  in  The  Hystory  of  Hamblet,  bl.  1.  sig.  D  1 : 
'*  The  counsellour  entered  secretly  into  the  queene's  chamber, 
and  there  hid  himselfe  behinde  the  arras,  and  long  before  the 
queene  and  Hamlet  came  thither ;  who  being  craftie  and  polli- 
tique,  as  soone  as  hee  was  within  the  chamber,  doubting  some 
treason,  and  fearing  if  he  should  speake  severely  and  wisely  to 
his  mother,  touching  his  secret  practises,  hee  should  be  under- 
stood, and  by  that  means  intercepted,  used  his  ordinary  manner 
of  dissimulation,  and  began  to  come  [r.  crow]  like  a  cocke, 
beating  with  his  arms  (in  such  manner  as  cockes  use  to  strike 


234  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 


Enter  HAMLET. 

HAM.  Now,  mother ;  what's  the  matter  ? 

QUEEN.  Hamlet,  thou  hast  thy  father  much  of- 
fended. 

HAM.  Mother,  you  have  my  father  much  of- 
fended. 

QUEEN.  Come,  come,  you  answer  with  an  idle 
tongue. 

HAM.  Go,  go,  you  question  with  a  wicked  tongue. 

QUEEN.  Why,  how  now,  Hamlet  ? 

HAM.  What's  the  matter  now  ? 

QUEEN.  Have  you  forgot  me  ? 

HAM.  No,  by  the  rood,  not  so : 

You  are  the  queen,  your  husband's  brother's  wife  ; 
And, — 'would  it  were  not  so!5 — you  are  my  mo- 
ther. 

QUEEN.  Nay,  then  I'll  set  those  to  you  that  can 
speak. 

HAM.  Come,  come,  and  sit  you  down  j  you  shall 

not  budge ; 

You  go  not,  till  I  set  you  up  a  glass 
Where  you  may  see  the  inmost  part  of  you. 


with  their  wings)  upon  the  hangings  of  the  chamber;  whereby 
feeling  something  stirring  under  them,  he  cried,  a  rat,  a  raty 
and  presently  drawing  his  sworde,  thrust  it  into  the  hangings  ; 
which  done;  pulled  the  counsellour  (half-deade)  out  by  the 
heeles,  made  an  ende  of  killing  him ;  and,  being  slaine,  cut  his 
body  in  pieces,  which  he  caused  to  be  boyled,  and  then  cast  it 
into  an  open  vault  or  privie."  MALONE. 

*  And, — 'would  it  were  not  so  /]  The  folio  reads — 
But  would  you  were  not  so.     HENDERSON. 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          235 

QUEEN.  What  wilt  thou  do  ?  thou  wilt  not  mur- 
der me  ? 
Help,  help,  ho ! 

POL.  [Behind.]  What,  ho !  help  ! 

HAM.  How  now !  a  rat  ? 6 

[Draws. 
Dead,  for  a  ducat,  dead. 

[HAMLET  makes  a  pass  through  the  Arras. 

POL.  [Behind.']  O,  I  am  slain. 

[Falls,  and  dies. 

QUEEN.  O  me,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 

HAM.  Nay,  I  know  not : 

Js  it  the  king  ? 

[Lifts  up  the  Arras,  and  draws  forth  POLO- 

NIUS. 
QUEEN.  O,  what  a  rash  and  bloody  deed  is  this ! 

HAM.  A  bloody  deed; — almost  as  bad,  good 

mother, 
As  kill  a  king,  and  marry  with  his  brother. 

QUEEN.  As  kill  a  king  !7 

6  HOIK  noiv!  a  rat?~\    This  (as  Dr.  Farmer  has  observed,)  is 
an  expression  borrowed  from  The  History  of  Hamblet,  a  trans- 
lation from  the  French  of  Belleforest.     STEEVENS. 

7  Queen.  As  kill  a  king  /]     This  exclamation  may  be  consi- 
dered as  some  hint  that  the  Queen  had  no  hand  in  the  murder  of 
Hamlet's  father.     STEEVENS. 

It  has  been  doubted  whether  Shakspeare  intended  to  represent 
the  Queen  as  accessary  to  the  murder  of  her  husband.  The  sur- 
prize she  here  expresses  at  the  charge  seems  to  tend  to  her  ex- 
culpation. Where  the  variation  is  not  particularly  marked,  we 
may  presume,  I  think,  that  the  poet  intended  to  tell  his  story  as 
it  had  been  told  before.  The  following  extract,  therefore,  from 
The  Hystory  of  Hamblet,  bl.  1.  relative  to  this  point,  will  pro- 
bably not  be  unacceptable  to  the  reader :  "  Fengon  [the  king  in 
the  present  play]  boldened  and  encouraged  by  such  impunitie, 
durst  venture  to  couple  himself  in  marriage  with  her,  whom  he 


236  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

HAM.  Ay,  lady,  'twas  my  word. — 

Thou  wretched,  rash,  intruding  fool,  farewell! 

[To  POLONIUS. 

used  as  his  concubine  during  good  Horvendille's  life ;  in  that 
sort  spotting  his  name  with  a  double  vice,  incestuous  adultcrie, 
and  paracide  murther. — This  adulterer  and  infamous  murtherer 
slaundered  his  dead  brother,  that  he  would  have  slaine  his  wife, 
and  that  bee  by  chance  rinding  him  on  the  point  ready  to  do  it, 
in  defence  of  the  lady,  had  slaine  him. — The  unfortunate  and 
wicked  woman  that  had  received  the  honour  to  be  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  valiantest  and  wisest  princes  in  the  North,  imbased  her- 
8elfe  in  such  vile  sort  as  to  falsifie  her  faith  unto  him,  and,  which 
is  worse,  to  marrie  him  that  had  bin  the  tyrannous  murtherer  of 
her  lawful  husband ;  which  made  diverse  men  think  that  she  hud 
been  the  causer  of  the  murther,  thereby  to  live  in  her  adulterie 
without  controle."  Hyst.  of  Ham b.  sig.  C  1.  2. 

In  the  conference,  however,  with  her  son,  on  which  the  pre- 
sent scene  is  founded,  she  strongly  asserts  her  innocence  with 
respect  to  this  fact: 

*'  I  know  well,  my  sonne,  that  I  have  done  thee  great  wrong 
in  marrying  with  Fengon,  the  cruel  tyrant  and  murtherer  of  thy 
father,  and  my  loyal  spouse;  but  when  thou  shall  consider  the 
small  means  of  resistance,  and  the  treason  of  the  palace,  with 
the  little  cause  of  confidence  we  are  to  expect,  or  hope  for,  of 
the  courtiers,  all  wrought  to  his  will ;  as  also  the  power  he  made 
ready  if  I  should  have  refused  to  like  him ;  thou  wouldst  rather 
excuse,  than  accuse  me  of  lasciviousness  or  inconstancy,  much 
less  ofter  me  that  wrong  to  suspect  that  ever  thy  mother  Geruth 
once  consented  to  the  death  and  murther  of  her  husband:  swear- 
ing unto  thee  by  the  majestie  of  the  gods,  that  if  it  had  layne  in 
me  to  have  resisted  the  tyrant,  although  it  had  beene  with  the 
losse  of  my  blood,  yea  and  of  my  life,  I  would  surely  have  saved 
the  life  of  my  lord  and  husband."  Ibid.  sig.  D  4. 

It  is  observable,  that  in  the  drama  neither  the  king  or  queen 
make  so  good  a  defence.  Shakspeare  wished  to  render  them  as 
odious  as  he  could,  and  therefore  has  not  in  any  part  of  the  play 
furnished  them  with  even  the  semblance  of  an  excuse  for  their 
conduct. 

Though  the  inference  already  mentioned  may  be  drawn  from 
the  surprize  which  our  poet  has  here  made  the  Queen  express 
at  being  charged  with  the  murder  of  her  husband,  it  is  observable 
that  when  the  Player-Queen  in  the  preceding  scene  says : 
*'  In  second  husband  let  me  be  accurst ! 
"  None  wed  the  second,  but  who  kiWd  the  fast." 


SC.  IT.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  237 

I  took  thee  for  thy  better ;  take  thy  fortune : 
Thou  find'st,  to  be  too'  busy,  is  some  danger. — 

he  has  made  Hamlet  exclaim — "  that's  wormwoods'  The  Prince, 
therefore,  both  from  the  expression  and  the  words  addressed 
to  his  mother  in  the  present  scene,  must  be  supposed  to  think 
her  guilty. — Perhaps  after  all  this  investigation,  the  truth  is, 
that  Shakspeare  himself  meant  to  leave  the  matter  in  doubt. 

MALONE. 

I  know  not  in  what  part  of  this  tragedy  the  King  and  Queen 
could  have  been  expected  to  enter  into  a  vindication  of  their 
mutual  conduct.  The  former  indeed  is  rendered  contemptible 
as  well  as  guilty ;  but  for  the  latter  our  poet  seems  to  have  felt 
all  that  tenderness  which  the  Ghost  recommends  to  the  imitation 
of  her  son.  STEEVENS. 

Had  Shakspeare  thought  fit  to  have  introduced  the  topicks  I 
have  suggested,  can  there  be  a  doubt  concerning  his  ability  to 
introduce  them  ?  The  king's  justification,  if  to  justify  had  been 
the  poet's  object,  (which  it  certainly  was  not),  might  have  been 
made  in  a  soliloquy;  the  queen's,  in  the  present  interview  with 
her  son.  MALONE. 

It  might  not  unappositely  be  observed,  that  every  new  com- 
mentator, like  Sir  T.  Hanmer's  Othello,  must  often  "  make  the 
meat  he  feeds  on."  Some  slight  objection  to  every  opinion  al- 
ready offered,  may  be  found ;  and,  if  in  doubtful  cases  we  are 
to  presume  that  "  the  poet  tells  his  stories  as  they  have  been  told 
before,"  we  must  put  new  constructions  on  many  of  his  scenes, 
as  well  as  new  comments  on  their  verbal  obscurities. 

For  instance — touching  the  manner  in  which  Hamlet  disposed 
of  Polonius's  body.  The  black-letter  history  tells  us  he  "  cut  it 
in  pieces,  which  he  caused  to  be  boiled,  and  then  cast  it  into  an 
open  vault  or  privie."  Are  we  to  conclude  therefore  that  he  did 
so  in  the  play  before  us,  because  our  author  has  left  the  matter 
doubtful  ?  Hamlet  is  only  made  to  tell  us,  that  this  dead  coun- 
sellor was  "safely  stowed."  He  afterwards  adds,  " — you 
shall  nose  him"  &c. ;  all  which  might  have  been  the  case,  had 
the  direction  of  the  aforesaid  history  been  exactly  followed.  In 
this  transaction  then  (which  I  call  a  doubtful  one,  because  the 
remains  of  Polonius  might  have  been  rescued  from  t\\eforicat 
and  afterwards  have  received  their  "hugger-mugger"  funeral) 
am  I  at  liberty  to  suppose  he  had  had  the  fate  of  Heliogabalus, 
in  cloacam  missus  ? 

That  the  Queen  (who  may  still  be  regarded  as  innocent  of 
murder)  might  have  offered  some  apology  for  her  "  over-hasty 


238  HAMLET, 

Leave  wringing  of  your  hands :  Peace ;  sit  you 

down, 

And  let  me  wring  your  heart :  for  so  I  shall, 
If  it  be  made  of  penetrable  stuff; 
If  damned  custom  have  not  braz'd  it  so, 
That  it  be  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense. 

QUEEN.  What  have  I  done,  that  thou  dar'st  wag 

thy  tongue 
In  noise  so  rude  against  me  ? 

HAM.  Such  an  act, 

That  blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  modesty; 
Calls  virtue,  hypocrite  ;  takes  off  the  rose8 

marriage,"  can  easily  be  supposed ;  but  Mr.  Malone  has  not 
suggested  what  defence  could  have  been  set  up  by  the  royal  fra- 
tricide. My  acute  predecessor,  as  well  as  the  novellist,  must 
have  been  aware  that  though  female  weakness,  and  an  offence 
against  the  forms  of  the  world,  will  admit  of  extenuation,  such 
guilt  as  that  of  the  usurper,  could  not  have  been  palliated  by  the 
dramatick  art  of  Shakspeare ;  even  if  the  father  of  Hamlet  had 
been  represented  as  a  wicked  instead  of  a  virtuous  character. 

STEEVENS. 

8  takes  off"  the  rose  #c.]     Alluding  to  the  custom  of 

wearing  roses  on  the  side  of  the  face.  See  a  note  on  a  passage 
in  King  John,  Act  I.  WARBURTON. 

I  believe  Dr.  Warburton  is  mistaken  ;  for  it  must  be  allowed 
that  there  is  a  material  difference  between  an  ornament  worn  on 
\heforehead,  and  one  exhibited  on  the  side  of  the  face.  Some 
have  understood  these  words  to  be  only  a  metaphorical  enlarge- 
ment of  the  sentiment  contained  in  the  preceding  line : 

" blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  modesty :" 

but  as  \heforehead  is  no  proper  situation  for  a  blush  to  be  dis- 
played in,  we  may  have  recourse  to  another  explanation. 

It  was  once  the  custom  for  those  who  were  betrothed,  to  wear 
some  flower  as  an  external  and  conspicuous  mark  of  their  mutual 
engagement.     So,  in  Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calendar Jor  April: 
"  Bring  coronations  and  sops  in  urine, 
"  Worn  of  paramours." 

Lyte,  in  his  Herbal,  1578,  enumerates  sops  in  wine  among 
the  smaller  kind  of  single  gilliflowers  or  pinks. 

Figure  4,  in  the  Morrice-dance  (a  plate  of  which  is  annexed 


ac.  iv.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          239 

From  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love, 

to  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.]  has  a  flower  fixed  on  his 
forehead,  and  seems  to  be  meant  for  the  paramour  of  the  female 
character.  The  flower  might  be  designed  for  a  rose,  as  the 
colour  of  it  is  red  in  the  painted  glass,  though  its  form  is  ex- 
pressed with  as  little  adherence  to  nature  as  that  of  the  mary- 
gold  in  the  hand  of  the  lady.  It  may,  however,  conduct  us  to 
affix  a  new  meaning  to  the  lines  in  question.  This  flower,  as  I 
have  since  discovered,  is  exactly  shaped  like  the  sops  in  tvine, 
now  called  the  Deptford  Pink. 

An  Address  "  To  all  Judiciall  censurers,"  prefixed  to  The 
Whipper  of  the  Satyre  his  Pennance  in  a  "white  Sheete,  or  the 
Beadle's  Confutation,  1601,  begins  likewise  thus: 

"  Brave  spirited  gentles,  on  whose  comely  front 
"  The  rose  of  favour  sits  majesticall, — ." 
Sets  a  blister  there,  has  the  same  meaning  as  in  Measure  for 
Measure : 

"  Who  falling  in  the  flaws  of  her  own  youth, 
"  Hath  blister'd  her  report." 
See  Vol.  VI.  p.  262,  n.  2.     STEEVENS. 

I  believe,  by  the  rose  was  only  meant  the  roseate  hue.  The 
forehead  certainly  appears  to  us  an  odd  place  for  the  hue  of  in- 
nocence to  dwell  on,  but  Shakspeare  might  place  it  there  with 
as  much  propriety  as  a  smile.  In  Troilus  and  Cressida  we  find 
these  lines : 

"  So  rich  advantage  of  a  promised  glory, 

"  As  smiles  upon  theforehead  of  this  action." 
That  part  of  the  forehead  which  is  situated  between  the  eye- 
brows, seems  to  have  been  considered  by  our  poet  as  the  seat  of 
innocence  and  modesty.     So,  in  a  subsequent  scene ; 

"  . -brands  the  harlot, 

"  Even  here,  between  the  chaste  and  unsmirch'd  Irona 

"  Of  my  true  mother."     MALONE. 

In  the  foregoing  quotation  from  Troilus  and  Cressida,  I  un- 
derstand that  the  forehead  is  smiled  upon  by  advantage,  and  not 
that  the  forehead  is  itself  the  smiler.  Thus,  says  Laertes  in  the 
play  before  us : 

"  Occasion  smiles  upon  a  second  leave.19 

But  it  is  not  the  leave  that  smiles,  but  occasion  that  smiles  upon 
it. 

In  the  subsequent  passage, our  author  had  no  choice;  for  having 
alluded  to  that  part  of  the  face  which  was  anciently  branded  with 
a  mark  of  shame,  he  was  compelled  to  place  his  token  of  inno- 
cence in  a  corresponding  situation.  STEEVENS. 


240  HAMLET, 

And  sets  a  blister  there  ;  makes  marriage  vows 

As  false  as  dicers'  oaths :  O,  such  a  deed 

As  from  the  body  of  contraction9  plucks 

The  very  soul ;  and  sweet  religion  makes 

A  rhapsody  of  words :  Heaven's  face  doth  glow ; 

Yea,  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 

With  tristful  visage,  as  against  the  doom, 

Is  thought-sick  at  the  act.1 

9  — —from  the  body  of  contraction — ]    Contraction  for  mar- 
riage contract.'}     WARBURTON. 

1  Heaven's  face  doth  glow; 

Yea,  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 
With  tristful  visage,  as  against  the  doom, 
Is  thought-tick  at  the  act.}    If  any  sense  can  be  found  here, 
it  is  this.     The  sun  glows  [and  does  it  not  always  ?]  and  the  very 
solid  mass  of  earth  has  a  tristful  visage,  and  is  thought-sick.     All 
this  is  sad  stuff.     The  old  quarto  reads  much  nearer  to  the  poet's 
sense: 

Heaven's  face  does  glow, 
O'er  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 
With  heated  visage,  as  against  the  doom, 
Is  thought-sick  at  the  act. 

From  whence  it  appears,  that  Shakspeare  wrote, 
Heaven's  face  doth  glow, 
O'er  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 
With  tristful  visage;  and,  ns  'gainst  the  doom, 
Is  thought-sick  at  the  act. 

This  makes  a  fine  sense,  and  to  this  effect.  The  sun  looks  upon 
our  globe,  the  scene  of  this  murder,  with  an  angry  and  mournful 
countenance,  half  hid  in  eclipse,  as  at  the  day  of  doom. 

WARBURTON. 

The  word  heated,  though  it  agrees  well  enough  with  glow,  is, 
I  think,  not  so  striking  as  tristful,  which  was,  I  suppose,  chosen 
at  the  revisal.  I  believe  the  whole  passage  now  stands  as  the 
author  gave  it.  Dr.  Warburton's  reading  restores  two  impro- 
prieties, which  Shakspeare,  by  his  alteration,  had  removed.  In 
the  first,  and  in  the  new  reading,  Heaven's  face  glows  with  trist- 
ful visage ;  and,  Heaven's  face  is  thought-sick.  To  the  common 
reading  there  is  no  just  objection.  JOHNSON. 

•  - 1  am  strongly  inclined  to  think  that  the  reading  of  the  quarto, 
1604,  is  the  true  one.  In  Shakspeare's  licentious  diction,  the 


ac.  ir.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          241 

QUEEN.  Ah  me,  what  act, 

That  roars  so  loud,2  and  thunders  in  the  index  ?3 

HAM.  Look  here,  upon  this  picture,  and  on  thisj4 


meaning  may  be, — The  face  of  heaven  doth  glow  with  heated 
visage  over  the  earth :  and  heaven  as  against  the  day  of  judge- 
ment, is  thought-sick  at  the  act. 

Had  not  our  poet  St.  Luke's  description  of  the  last  day  in  his 
thoughts? — "And  there  shall  be  signs  in  the  sun  and  in  the 
moon,  and  in  the  stars;  and  upon  the  earth  distress  of  nations, 
with  perplexity,  the  sea  and  the  waves  roaring :  men's  hearts 
failing  them  for  fear,  and  for  looking  on  those  things  which  are 
coming  on  the  earth ;  for  the  powers  of  heaven  shall  be 
shaken,"  &c.  MALONE. 

2  That  roars  so  loud,]  The  meaning  is, —  What  is  this  act,  of 
which  the  discovery,  or  mention,  cannot  be  made,  but  with  this 
violence  of  clamour  ?  JOHNSON. 

3 and  thunders  in  the  index?]  Mr.  Edwards  observes, 

that  the  indexes  of  many  old  books  were  at  that  time  inserted  at 
the  beginning,  instead  of  the  end,  as  is  now  the  custom.  This 
observation  I  have  often  seen  confirmed. 

So,  in  Othello,  Act  II.  sc.  vii :  "  an  index  and  obscure 

prologue  to  the  history  of  lust  and  foul  thoughts."  STEEVENS. 

Bullokar  in  his  Expositor,  8vo.  1616,  defines  an  Index  by  "A 
table  in  a  booke."  The  table  was  almost  always  prefixed  to  the 
books  of  our  poet's  age.  Indexes,  in  the  sense  in  which  we 
now  understand  the  word,  were  very  uncommon.  MALONE. 

4  Look  here,  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this;~\  It  is  evident 
from  the  following  words, 

"  A  station,  like  the  herald  Mercury,"  &c. 
that  these  pictures,  which  are  introduced  as  miniatures  on  the 
stage,  were  meant  for  whole  lengths,  being  part  of  the  furniture 
of  the  Queen's  closet : 

" like  Maia's  son  he  stood, 

"  And  shook  his  plumes."     Paradise  Lost,  Book  V. 
Hamlet,  who,  in  a  former  scene,  has  censured  those  who 
gave"  forty,  fifty,  a  hundred  ducats  apiece"  for  his  uncle's  "pic- 
ture in  little,"  would  hardly  have  condescended  to  carry  such 
a  thing  in  his  pocket.     STEEVENS. 

The  introduction  of  miniatures  in  this  place  appears  to  be  a 
modern  innovation.  A  print  prefixed  to  Rowe's  edition  of 
Hamlet,  published  in  1 709,  proves  this.  There,  the  ^wo  royal 

VOL.  XVIIT.  R 


242  H  AMLET,  ACT  III. 

The  counterfeit  presentment  of  two  brothers. 
See,  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  this  brow : 
Hyperion's  curls;5  the  front  of  Jove  himself; 
An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command ; 
A  station  like  the  herald  Mercury,6 

portraits  are  exhibited  as  half-lengths,  hanging  in  the  Queen's 
closet;  and  eithertlms,  or  as  whole-lengths,  they  probably  were 
exhibited  from  the  time  of  the  original  performance  of  this  tra- 
gedy to  the  death  of  Betterton.  To  half-lengths,  however,  the 
same  objection  lies,  as  to  miniatures.  MA  LONE. 

We  may  also  learn,  that  from  this  print  the  trick  of  kicking 
the  chair  down  on  the  appearance  of  the  Ghost,  was  adopted  by 
modern  Hamlets  from  the  practice  of  their  predecessors. 

STEEVENS. 

5  Hyperion's  curls;']  It  is  observable,  that  Hyperion  is  used 
by  Spenser  with  the  same  error  in  quantity.  FARMER. 

I  have  never  met  with  an  earlier  edition  of  Marston's  Insatiate 
Countess  than  that  in  1613.  In  this  the  following  lines  oc- 
cur, which  bear  a  close  resemblance  to  Hamlet's  description  of 
his  father  : 

**  A  donative  he  hath  of  every  god  ;. 

"  Apollo  gave  him  locks,  Jove  his  highbrow*." 

"  — —  dignos  et  Apolline  crines." 
Ovid's  Metam.  B.  III.  thus  translated  by  Golding,  1587  : 

"  And  haire  that  one  might  worthily  Apollo's  haire  it 
deeme."     STEEVENS. 

*  A  station  like  the  herald  Mercury,  #c.]  Station,  in  this  in- 
stance, does  not  mean  the  spot  'where  any  one  is  placed,  but  the 
act  of  standing.  So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  III.  sc.  iii : 

"  Her  motion  and  her  station  are  as  one." 
On  turning  to  Mr.  Theobald's  first  edition,  I  find  that  he  had. 
made  the  same  remark,  and  supported  it  by  the  same  instance. 
The  observation  is  necessary,  for  otherwise  the  compliment  de- 
signed to  the  attitude  of  the  King,  would  be  bestowed  on  the 
place  where  Mercury  is  represented  as  standing.  STEEVENS. 

In  the  first  scene  of  Timon  of  Athens,  the  poet,  admiring  a 
picture,  introduces  the  same  image : 

" How  this  grace 

44  Speaks  his  own  standing  /"     MALONE. 

I  think  it  not  improbable  that  Shakspeare  caught  this  image 


Be.  IF.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          243 

New-lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill  ;7 

A  combination,  and  a  form,  indeed, 

Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 

To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man  : 

This  was  your  husband. — Look  you  now,  what 

follows : 

Here  is  your  husband  ;  like  a  mildew' d  ear, 
Blasting  his  wholesome  brother.8  Have  you  eyes? 
Could  you  on  this  fair  mountain  leave  to  feed, 
And  batten9  on  this  moor  ?  Ha !  have  you  eyes  ? 


from  Phaer's  translation  of  Virgil,  (Fourth  JEneid,}  a  book  that 
without  doubt  he  had  read : 

"  And  now  approaching  neere,  the  top  he  seeth  and 

mighty  Jims 
"  Of  Atlas,  mountain  tough,  that  iheaven  on  boyst'rous 

shoulders  beares;— 

*'  There  Jirst  on  ground  with  wings  of  might  doth  Mer- 
cury arrive, 
"  Then  down  from  thence  right  over  seas  himselfe  doth 

headlong  drive." 

In  the  margin  are  these  words :  "  The  description  of  Mercury's 
journey  from  heaven,  along  the  mountain  Atlas  in  Afrike,  highest 
on  earth."  MALONE. 

7 heaven-kissing  hill;"]     So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida: 

"  Yon  towers  whose  wanton  tops  do  buss  the  clouds." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  fourteenth  Iliad  : 

"  A  fir  itwas  that  shot  pastair,and  kiss'dthe  burnings/^." 

STEEVENS. 


like  a  mildew'd  ear, 


Blasting  his  tvholesome  brother.']     This  alludes  to  Pharaoh's 
Dream,  in  the  41st  chapter  of  Genesis.     STEEVENS. 

9 batten — ]    i.  e.  to  grow  fat.     So,  in  Claudius  Tiberius 

Nero,  1607 : 

« an(j  for  milk 

"  I  batten1  d  was  with  blood." 
Again,  in  Marlowe's  Jew  of  Malta,  1633  : 

" make  her  round  and  plump, 

"  And  batten  more  than  you  are  aware." 
Bat  is  an  ancient  word  for  increase.     Hence  the  adjective  hat- 
ful, so  often  used  by  Drayton  in  his  Polyolbion.     STEEVENS. 

R  2 


244  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

You  cannot  call  it,  love :  for,  at  your  age, 
The  hey-day  in  the  blood1  is  tame,  it's  humble, 
And  waits  upon  the  judgment;  And  what  judgment 
Would  step  from  this  to  this?  Sense,  sure,  you 

have,f 
Else,  could  you  not  have  motion  :2  But,  sure,  that 

sense 


1  The  hey-day  intke  blood — ]  This  expression  occurs  in  Ford's 
'Tis  Pity  she's  a  Whore,  1633: 

« must 

"  The  hey-day  of  your  luxury  be  fed 
"  Up  to  a  surfeit  ?"     STEJEVENS. 

2 Sense,  sure,  you  have, 

Else,  could  you  not  have  motion :]  But  from  what  philoso- 
phy our  editors  learnt  this,  I  cannot  tell.  Since  motion  depends 
so  little  upon  sense,  that  the  greatest  part  of  motion  in  the  uni- 
verse, is  amongst  bodies  devoid  of  sense.  We  should  read  : 

Else,  could  you  not  have  notion. 

i.  e.  intellect,  reason,  &c.  This  alludes  to  the  famous  peripate- 
tic principle  of  Nil  Jit  in  intellectu,  quod  non  Juerit  in  sensu. 
And  how  fond  our  author  was  of  applying,  and  alluding  to,  the 
principles  of  this  philosophy,  we  have  given  several  instances. 
The  principle  in  particular  has  been  since  taken  for  the  founda- 
tion of  one  of  the  noblest  works  that  these  latter  ages  have  pro- 
duced. WARBURTONr 

The  whole  passage  is  wanting  in  the  folio  ;  and  which  soever 
of  the  readings  be  the  true  one,  the  poet  was  not  indebted  to 
this  boasted  philosophy  for  his  choice.  STEEVENS. 

Sense  is  sometimes  used  by  Shakspeare  for  sensation  or  sen- 
sual appetite  ;  as  motion  is  the  effect  produced  by  the  impulse  of 
nature.  Such,  I  think,  is  the  signification  of  these  words  here. 
So,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

" she  speaks,  and  'tis 

"  Such  sense,  that  my  sense  breeds  with  it." 
Again,  more  appositely  in  the  same  play,  where  both  the  words 
occur : 

" One  who  never  feels 

"  The  wanton  stings  and  motions  of  the  sense" 
So,  in  Braithwaite's  Survey  of  Histories,  1614:  "  These  con- 
tinent relations  will  reduce  the  straggling  motions  to  a  more 
settled  and  retired  harbour." 


*C7.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          245 

Is  apoplex'd  :  for  madness  would  not  err; 

Nor  sense  to  ecstasy  was  ne'er  so  thrall* d, 

But  it  reserv'd  some  quantity  of  choice, 

To  serve  in  such  a  difference.     What  devil  was't, 

That  thus  hath  cozen'd  you  at  hoodman-blind  ?3 

Eyes  without  feeling,4  feeling  without  sight, 

Ears  without  hands  or  eyes,  smelling  sans  all, 

Or  but  a  sickly  part  of  one  true  sense 

Could  not  so  mope.5 

O  shame  !  where  is  thy  blush  ?  Rebellious  hell, 

If  thou  canst  mutine  in  a  matron's  bones,6 


Sense  has  already  been  used  in  this  scene,  for  sensation  ? 
"  That  it  be  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense." 

MALONE, 

3 at  hoodman-blind  ?]     This  is,  I  suppose,  the  same  as 

blindman' s-bujf.     So,  in  Th"  Wise  Woman  of '  Hogsden,  1638: 

"  Why  should  I  play  at  hood-man  blind?" 

Again,  in   Two  Lamentable  Tragedies  in  One,  the  One  a  Mur- 
der of  Master  Beech,  &c.  1601 : 

"  Pick  out  men's  eyes,  and  tell  them  that's  the  sport 

"  Of  hood-man  blind."     STEEVENS. 

4  Eyes  without  feeling,  &c.]      This  and  the  three  following 
lines  are  omitted  in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

6  Could  not  so  mope.}     '•  e>  could  not  exhibit  such  marks  of 
stupidity.     The  same  word  is  used  in  The  Tempest,  sc.  ult : 
"  And  were  brought  moping  hither."     STEEVENS. 

6 Rebellious  hell, 

If  thou  canst  mutine  in  a  matron's  bones,  &c.]  Thus  the  old 
copies.  Shakspeare  calls  mutineers, — mutines,  in  a  subsequent 
scene.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Othello  : 

" this  hand  of  yours  requires 

"  A  sequester  from  liberty,  fasting  and  prayer, 

"  Much  castigation,  exercise  devout ; 

**  For  here's  a  young  and  sweating  devil  here, 

"  That  commonly  rebels." 
To  mutine,  for  which  the  modern  editors  have  substituted 


mutiny,  was  the  ancient  term,  signifying  to  rise  in  mutiny.     So, 
in  Knolles's  History  of  the  Turks,  1603:  "  The  Janisaries— be- 


246  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

To  flaming  youth  let  virtue  be  as  wax, 
And  melt  in  her  own  fire :  proclaim  no  shame, 
When  the  compulsive  ardour  gives  the  charge; 
Since  frost  itself  as  actively  doth  burn, 
And  reason  panders  will.7 

QUEEN.  O  Hamlet,  speak  no  more  : 

Thou  turn'st  mine  eyes  into  my  very  soul ; 
And  there  I  see  such  black  and  grained 8  spots, 
As  will  not  leave  their  tinct.9 

HAM.  Nay,  but  to  live 

In  the  rank  sweat  of  an  enseamed  bed  j1 


came  wonderfully  discontented,  and  began  to  mutine  in  diverse 
places  of  the  citie."     MALONE. 

7 reason  panders  will.']     So  the  folio,  I  think,  rightly; 

but  the  reading  of  the  quarto  is  defensible : 

— — —  reason  pardons  will,    JOHNSON. 

Panders  was  certainly  Shakspeare's  word.  So,  in  Venus  and 
Adonis : 

"  When  reason  is  the  bawd  to  lust's  abuse."    MALONE. 

• grained — ]  Died  in  grain.     JOHNSON. 

I  am  not  quite  certain  that  the  epithet — grained,  is  justly  in- 
terpreted. Our  author  employs  the  same  adjective  in  The  Co- 
medy of  Errors  : 

"  Though  now  this  grained  face  of  mine  be  hid,"  &c. 
and  in  this  instance  the  allusion  is  most  certainly  to  the  furrows 
in  the  grain  of  wood. 

Shakspeare  might  therefore  design  the  Queen  to  say,  that  her 
spots  of  guilt  were  not  merely  superficial,  but  indented. — A  pas- 
sage, however,  in  Twelfth- Night,  will  sufficiently  authorize  Dr. 
Johnson's  explanation  :  "  'Tis  in  grain,  sir,  'twill  endure  wind 
and  weather."  STEEVENS. 

9  As  will  not  leave  their  tinct. ~\  To  leave  is  to  part  with,  give 
up,  resign.  So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  : 

"  It  seems,  you  lov'd  her  not,  to  leave  her  token." 
The  quartos  read  : 

As  will  leave  there  their  tinct.     STEEVENS. 

1 enseamed  bed;~]  Thus  the  folio:  i.  e.  greasy  bed. 

JOHKSON. 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  247 

Stew'd  in  corruption;  honeying,  and  making  love 
Over  the  nasty  stye  ; 

QUEEN.  O,  speak  to  me  no  more ; 

These  words,  like  daggers  enter  in  mine  ears ; 
No  more,  sweet  Hamlet. 

HAM.  A  murderer,  and  a  villain  : 

A  slave,  that  is  not  twentieth  part  the  tythe 
Of  your  precedent  lord : — a  vice  of  kings  :2 
A  cutpurse  of  the  empire  and  the  rule  ; 
That  from  a  shelf  the  precious  diadem  stole,5 
And  put  it  in  his  pocket  I 


Thus  also  the  quarto,  1604.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  use  the 
word  inseamed  in  the  same  sense,  in  the  third  of  their  Four  Plays 
in  One; 

"  His  leachery  inseam'd  upon  him." 

In  The  Book  of  Hauhyng,  &c.  bl.  1.  no  date,  we  are  told  that 
"  Ensayme  of  a  hauke  is  the  grece." 

In  Handle  Holme's  Academy  of  Armory  and  Blazon,  B.  II. 
ch.  ii.  p.  238,  we  are  told  that  "  Enseame  is  the  purging  of  a 
hawk  from  her  glut  and  grease."  From  the  next  page  in  the 
same  work,  we  learn  that  the  glut  is  "  a  slimy  substance  in  the 
belly  of  the  hawk." 

In  some  places  it  means  hogs'  lard,  in  others,  the  grease  or 
oil  with  which  clothiers  besmear  their  wool  to  make  it  draw  out 
in  spinning. 

Incestuous  is  the  reading  of  the  quarto,  1611.     STEEVENS. 

In  the  West  of  England,  the  inside  fat  of  a  goose,  when  dis- 
solved by  heat,  is  called  its  seam ;  and  Shakspeare  has  used  the 
word  in  the  same  sense  in  his  Troilus  and  Cressida  .- 

" shall  the  proud  lord, 

"  That  bastes  his  arrogance  with  his  own  seam.11 

HENLEY. 

z vice  of  kings:']     A  low  mimick  of  kings.     The  vice  is 

the  fool  of  a  farce ;  from  whence  the  modern^w/zcA  is  descended. 

JOHNSON. 

3  That  from  a  shelf  &c.]  This  is  said  not  unmeaningly,  but 
to  show,  that  the  usurper  came  not  to  the  crown  by  any  glo- 
rious villainy  that  carried  danger  with  it,  but  by  the  low  cow- 
ardly theft  of  a  common  pilferer.  WARBURTON. 


248  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

QUEEN.  No  more. 

Enter  Ghost. 

HAM.  A  king 

Of  shreds  and  patches  :* — 
Save  me,  and  hover  o'er  me  with  your  wings, 
You  heavenly  guards ! — What  would  your  gracious 
figure  ? 

QUEEN.  Alas,  he's  mad. 

HAM.  Do  you  not  come  your  tardy  son  to  chide, 
That,  laps'd  in  time  and  passion,5  lets  go  by 
The  important  acting  of  your  dread  command? 
O, say! 

GHOST.  Do  not  forget :  This  visitation 
Is  but  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted  purpose. 
But,  look  !  amazement  on  thy  mother  sits  : 
O,  step  between  her  and  her  fighting  soul ; 
Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  strongest  works  ;6 
Speak  to  her,  Hamlet. 

HAM.  How  is  it  with  you,  lady? 

QUEEN.  Alas,  how  is't  with  you  ; 
That  you  do  bend  your  eye  on  vacancy, 
And  with  the  incorporal  air  do  hold  discourse  ? 

4  A  king 

Of  shreds  and  patches:"]  This  is  said,  pursuing  the  idea  of 
the  vice  of  kings.  The  vice  was  dressed  as  a  fool,  in  a  coat  of 
party-coloured  patches.  JOHNSON. 

* laps'd  in  time  and  passion,]     That,  having  suffered 

time  to  slip,  and  passion  to  cool,  lets  go  &c.     JOHNSON. 

8  Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  strongest  works;]   Conceit  for  i/wa- 
gination. 

So,  in  The  Rape  ofLucrece  : 

"  And  the  conceited  painter  was  so  nice."     MALONE. 

See  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  II.  sc.  vi. 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  249 

Forth  at  your  eyes  your  spirits  wildly  peep ; 
And,  as  the  sleeping  soldiers  in  the  alarm, 
Your  bedded  hair,  like  life  ^n  excrements,7 
Starts  up,  and  stands  on  end.     O  gentle  son, 
Upon  the  heat  and  flame  of  thy  distemper 
Sprinkle  cool  patience.8     Whereon  do  you  look  ? 

HAM.    On   him !    on    him ! — Look  you,   how 

pale  he  glares! 

His  form  and  cause  conjoined,  preaching  to  stones,* 
Would  make  them  capable.1 — Do  not  look  upon 

me; 

7 like  life  in  excrements,]  The  hairs  are  excrementitious, 

that  is,  without  life  or  sensation;  yet  those  very  hairs,  as  if  they 
had  life,  start  up,  &c.     POPE. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  The  time  has  been 

" my  fell  of  hair, 

"  Would  at  a  dismal  treatise  rouse  and  stir, 
"  As  life  were  in't."     MALONE. 

fc/ 

Not  only  the  hair  of  animals  having  neither  life  nor  sensation 
was  called  an  excrement,  but  the  feathers  of  birds  had  the  same 
appellation.  Thus,  in  Izaac  Walton's  Complete  Angler,  P.  I. 
c.  i.  p.  9,  edit.  1766:  "  I  will  not  undertake  to  mention  the  se- 
veral kinds  of  fowl  by  which  this  is  done,  and  his  curious  palate 
pleased  by  day ;  and  which,  with  their  very  excrements,  afford 
him  a  soft  lodging  at  night."  WHALLEY. 

9  Upon  the  heat  andjlame  of  thy  distemper 

Sprinkle  cool  patience, ,]     This  metaphor  seems  to  have  been 

suggested  by  an  old  black  letter  novel,  (already  quoted  in  a  note 

on  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  III.  sc.  ii.)  Green's  History  of 

the  fair  Bellora :  "  Therefore  slake   the  burning  heate  of  thy 

flaming  affections,  with  some  drops  of  cooling  moderation." 

STEEVENS. 

9  preaching  to  stones,~\      Thus,   in   Sidney's   Arcadia, 

Lib.  V :  "  Their  passions  then  so  swelling  in  them,  they  would 
have  made  auditors  of  stones,  rather  than"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

His  form  and  cause  conjoin' d,  preaching  to  stones, 
Would  make  them  capable.]      Capable  here  signifies  intelli- 
gent; endued  with  understanding.     So,  in  King  Richard  III ; 


HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

Lest,  with  this  piteous  action,  you  convert 

My  stern  effects  :2  then  what  I  have  to  do 

Will  want  true  colour  j  tears,  perchance,  for  blood. 

QUEEN.  To  whom  do  you  speak  this  ? 

HAM.  Do  you  see  nothing  there  ? 

QUEEN.  Nothing  at  all ;  yet  all,  that  is,  I  see. 

HAM.  Nor  did  you  nothing  hear  ? 

QUEEN.  No,  nothing,  but  ourselves. 

HAM.  Why,  look  you  there !  look,  how  it  steals 

away ! 

My  father,  in  his  habit  as  he  hVd  !3 
Look,  where  he  goes,  even  now,  out  at  the  portal ! 

{Exit  Ghost. 

QUEEN.  This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain : 


O,  'tis  a  parlous  boy, 


"  Bold,  quick,  ingenious,  forward,  capable." 
We  yet  use  capacity  in  this  sense.     See  also  Vol.  XV.  p.  187, 
&c.  n.  2.     MALONE. 

*  My  stern  effects :]  Effects  for  actions ;  deeds  effected. 

MALONE. 

3  My  father ,  in  his  habit  as  he  /zVc?/]  If  the  poet  means  by 
this  expression,  that  his  father  appeared  in  his  own  familiar  ha- 
bit, he  has  either  forgot  that  he  had  originally  introduced  him  in 
armour,  or  must  have  meant  to  vary  his  dress  at  this  his  last  ap- 
pearance. Shakspeare's  difficulty  might  perhaps  be  a  little  ob- 
viated by  pointing  the  line  thus : 

My  father — in  his  habit — 05  he  liv'd!     STEEVENS. 

A  man's  armour,  who  is  used  to  wear  it,  may  be  called  his 
habit,  as  well  as  any  other  kind  of  clothing.  As  he  lived,  pro- 
bably means — "  as  if  he  were  alive — as  if  he  lived." 

M.  MASON. 

At  if  is  frequently  so  used  in  these  plays ;  but  this  interpre- 
tation does  not  entirely  remove  the  difficulty  which  has  been 
stated.  MALONE. 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          251 

This  bodiless  creation  ecstasy 
Is  very  cunning  in.4 

HAM.  Ecstasy! 

My  pulse,  as  yours,  doth  temperately  keep  time, 
And  makes  as  healthful  musick :  It  is  not  madness, 
That  I  have  utter*  d  :  bring  me  to  the  test, 
And  I  the  matter  will  re-word ;  which  madness 
Would  gambol  from.     Mother,  for  love  of  grace, 
Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul, 
That  not  your  trespass,  but  my  madness  speaks : 
It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place  ; 5 
Whiles  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within, 
Infects  unseen.     Confess  yourself  to  heaven ; 
Repent  what's  past ;  avoid  what  is  to  come  ; 
And  do  not  spread  the  compost  on  the  weeds,6 
To  make  them  ranker.  Forgive  me  this  my  virtue: 
For  in  the  fatness  of  these  pursy  times, 
Virtue  itself  of  vice  must  pardon  beg  ; 
Yea,  curb7  and  woo,  for  leave  to  do  him  good. 

4  This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain : 
This  bodiless  creation  ecstasy 

Is  very  cunning  in.~\      So,  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  : 
"  Such  shadows  are  the  weak  brain's  forgeries." 

MALONB. 

Ecstasy  in  this  place,  and  many  others,  means  a  temporary 
alienation  of  mind,  a  fit.     So,  in  Eliosto  Libidinoso,  a  novel,  by 

John  Hinde,   1606 :    " that  bursting    out    of  an  ecstasy 

wherein  she  had  long  stood,  like  one  beholding  Medusa's  head, 
lamenting"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  162,  n.  2.     MALONE. 

* skin  andjilm  the  ulcerous  place  ;]   The  same  indelicate 

allusion  occurs  in  Measure  for  Measure  ; 

"  That  skins  the  vice  o'the  top."     STEEVENS. 

do  not  spread  the  compost  &c.]     Do  not,  by  any  new 

indulgence,  heighten  your  former  offences.    JOHNSON. 

7 curb — ]  That  is,  bend  and  truckle,  Fr.  courier.   So,  in 

Pierce  Plotuman  : 

"  Then  I  courbid  on  my  knees,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 


2.52  HAMLET,  ACT  ///. 

QUEEN.  O  Hamlet!  thou  hast  cleft  my  heart  in 
twain. 

HAM.  O,  throw  away  the  worser  part  of  it, 
And  live  the  purer  with  the  other  half. 
Good  night :  but  go  not  to  my  uncle's  bed ; 
Assume  a  virtue,  if  you  have  it  not. 
That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat 
Of  habit's  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this  ;8 
That  to  the  use  of  actions  fair  and  good 
He  likewise  gives  a  frock,  or  livery, 
That  aptly  is  put  on  :  Refrain  to-night ; 
And  that  shall  lend  a  kind  of  easiness 
To  the  next  abstinence  :  the  next  more  easy  :9 
For  use  almost  can  change  the  stamp  of  nature, 
And  either  curb  the  devil,1  or  throw  him  out 


*  That  monster,  custom,  -who  all  sense  doth  eat 

Of  habit's  devil,  e«  ang-l  yet  in  t'i's;']     This  passage  is  left 
out  in  the  two  elder  folios  :  it  is  certainly  corrupt,  and  the  players 
did  the  discreet  part  to  stifle  what  they  did  not  understand. 
Habit's  devil  certainly  arose  from  some  conceited  tamperer  with 
the  text,  who  thought  it  was  necessary,  in  contrast  to  angel.  The 
emendation  in  my  text  I  owe  to  the  sagacity  of  Dr.  Thirlby : 
That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat 
Of  habits  evil,  is  angel  &c.     THEOBALD. 

I  think  Thirlby 's  conjecture  wrong,  though  the  succeeding  edi- 
tors have  followed  it ;  angel  and  devil  are  evidently  op  .osed. 

JOHNSON. 

I  incline  to  think  with  Dr.  Thirlby  ;  though  I  have  left  the 
text  undisturbed.  From  That  monster  to  put  on,  is  not  in  the 
folio.  M  ALONE. 

I  would  read — Or  habit's  devil.  The  poet  first  styles  custom 
a  monster,  and  may  aggravate  and  amplify  his  description  by 
adding,  that  it  is  the  "daemon  who  presides  over  habit."-  — That 
monster  custom,  or  habit's  devil,  is  yet  an  angel  in  this  particular. 

STEEVENS. 

—  the  next  more  easy:~\     This  passage,  as  far  as  potency, 
is  omitted  in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

1  And  either  curb  the  devil,  &c.]  In  the  quarto,  where  alone 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK. 

With  wondrous  potency.  Once  more,  goodnight! 
And  when  you  are  desirous  to  be  bless'd, 
I'll  blessing  beg  of  you. — For  this  same  lord, 

[Pointing  to  POLONIUS. 

I  do  repent :  But  heaven  hath  pleas'd  it  so, — 
To  punish  me  with  this,  and  this  with  me,2 
That  I  must  be  their  scourge  and  minister. 
I  will  bestow  him,  and  will  answer  well 
The  death  I  gave  him.     So,  again,  good  night! — 
I  must  be  cruel,  only  to  be  kind  :3 
Thus  bad  begins,  and  worse  remains  behind. — 

this  passage  is  found,  some  word  was  accidentally  omitted  at  the 
•press  in  the  line  before  us.     The  quarto,  1604,  reads: 

And  either  the  devil,  or  throw  him  out  &c.  ' 
For  the  insertion  of  the  word  curb  I  am  answerable.  The 
printer  or  corrector  of  a  later  quarto,  finding  the  line  nonsense, 
omitted  the  word  either,  and  substituted  master  in  its  place.  The 
modern  editors  have  accepted  the  substituted  word,  and  yet  re- 
tain either;  by  which  the  metre  is  destroyed.  The  word  omitted 
in  the  first  copy  was  undoubtedly  a  monosyllable.  M ALONE. 

This  very  rational  conjecture  may  be  countenanced  by  the 
same  expression  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice: 

"  And  curb  this  cruel  devil  of  his  will."     STEEVENS. 

*  To  punish  me  "with  this,  and  this  ivith  me,~]  To  punish  me 
by  making  me  the  instrument  of  this  man's  death,  and  to  punish 
this  man  by  my  hand.  For  this,  the  reading  of  both  the  quarto 
and  folio,  Sir  T.  Hanmer  and  the  subsequent  editors  have  sub- 
stituted— 

To  punish  him  with  me,  and  me  ix>ith  him.     MALONE. 

I  take  leave  to  vindicate  the  last  editor  of  the  octavo  Shak- 
spearefrom  any  just  share  in  the  foregoing  accusation.  Whoever 
looks  into  the  edition  1785,  will  see  the  line  before  us  printed 
exactly  as  in  this  and  Mr.  Malone's  text. — In  several  preceding 
instances  a  similar  censure  on  the  same  gentleman  has  been  as 
•undeservedly  implied.  STEEVENS.  • 

3  /  must  be  cruel,  only  to  be  kind :]  This  sentiment  resembles 
the— -facto  pins,  ct  sceleratus  eodem,  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  B. 
III.  It  is  thus  translated  by  Golding : 

"  For  which  he  might  both  justly  fcinde,  and  cruel  called 
•    bee."     STEEVENS. 


254  HAMLET,  ACT  III. 

But  one  word  more,  good  lady.4 

.  QUEEN.  What  shall  I  do  ? 

HAM.  Not  this,  by  no  means,  that  I  bid  you  do : 
Let  the  bloat  king 5  tempt  you  again  to  bed  ; 
Pinch  wanton  on  your  cheek ;  callyou,  his  mouse ;6 
And  let  him,  for  a  pair  of  reechy  kisses,7 


4  But  one  "word  more,  &c.~]  This  passage  I  have  restored  from 
the  quartos.  For  the  sake  of  metre,  however,  I  have  supplied 
the  conjunction — But.  STEEVENS. 

*  Let  the  bloat  Icing — ~]  i-  e-  the  swollen  king.  Bloat  is  the 
reading  of  the  quarto,  1604.  MALONE. 

This  again  hints  at  his  intemperance.  He  had  already  drank 
himself  into  a  dropsy.  BLACKSTONE. 

The  folio  reads — blunt  king.     HENDERSON. 

0 his  mouse  ;]     Mouse  was  once  a  term  of  endearment. 

So,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  1602,  B.  II.  ch.  xvi: 

"  God  bless  thee  mouse,  the  bridegroom  said,"  &c. 
Again,  in  the  Mentechmi,  1595 :  "  Shall  I  tell  thee,  sweet 
mouse?  I  never  look  upon  thee,  but  I  am  quite  out  of  love  with 
my  wife." 

Again,  in  Churchyard's  Spider  and  Gcruit,  1575 : 
"  She  wan  the  love  of  all  the  house, 
"  And  pranckt  it  like  a  pretty  mouse." 

Again,  in  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  edit.  1632,p.  527 : 
"  — pleasant  names  may  be  invented,  bird,  mouse,  lamb,  pus, 
pigeon,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

This  term  of  endearment  is  very  ancient,  being  found  in  A 
new  and  merry  enter lude,  called  the  Trial  of  Treasure,  1567: 
"  My  mouse,  my  nobs,  my  cony  sweete ; 
"  My  hope  and  joye,  my  whole  delight."     MALONE. 

7 reechy  kisses,]  Reechy  is  smoky.    The  author  meant  to 

convey  a  coarse  idea,  and  was  not  very  scrupulous  in  his  choice 
of  an  epithet.  The  same,  however,  is  applied  with  greater  pro- 
priety to  the  neck  of  a  cook-maid  in  Coriolanus.  Again,  in 
Hans  Beer  Pot's  Invisible  Comedy,  1618: 

" bade  him  go 

"  And  wash  his  face,  he  look'd  so  rcechily, 
"  Like  bacon  hanging  on  the  chimney's  roof." 

STEEVENi. 


sc.  iv.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          255 

Or  padling  in  your  neck  with  his  damn'd  fingers, 

Make  you  to  ravel  all  this  matter  out, 

That  I  essentially  am  not  in  madness, 

But  mad  in  craft.8  'Twere  good,  you  let  him  know : 

Reechy  properly  means  steaming  with  exsudation,  and  seems 
to  have  been  selected,  to  convey,  in  this  place,  its  grossest  import. 

HENLEY. 

Reechy  includes,  I  believe,  heat  as  well  as  smoke.  The  verb 
to  reech,  which  was  once  common,  was  certainly  a  corruption  of 
— to  reek.  In  a  former  passage  Hamlet  has  remonstrated  with 
his  mother,  on  her  living — 

"  In  the  rank  sweat  of  an  enseamed  bed."    MALONE. 

Reeky  most  certainly  was  not  designed  by  our  author  to  convey 
the  idea  of  heat,  being  employed  by  him  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  to 
signify  the  chill  damp  of  human  bones  in  a  sepulchre  : 

" reeky  shanks,  and  yellow  chapless  sculls." 

STEEVENS. 

8  That  I  essentially  am  not  in  madness, 

But  mad  in  craft. ]  The  reader  will  be  pleased  to  see  Dr. 
Farmer's  extract  from  the  old  quarto  Historic  of  Hamblet,  of 
which  he  had  a  fragment  only  in  his  possession: — "  It  was  not 
without  cause,  and  just  occasion,  that  my  gestures,  countenances, 
and  words,  seeme  to  proceed  from  a  madman,  and  that  I  desire 
to  haue  all  men  esteeme  mee  wholly  depriued  of  sense  and  rea- 
sonable understanding,  bycause  I  am  well  assured,  that  he  that 
hath  made  no  conscience  to  kill  his  owne  brother,  (accustomed 
to  murthers,  and  allured  with  desire  of  gouernement  without 
controll  in  his  treasons)  will  not  spare  to  saue  himselfe  with  the 
like  crueltie,  in  the  blood  and  flesh  of  the  loyns  of  his  brother, 
by  him  massacred  ;  and  therefore  it  is  better  for  me  to  fayne  mad- 
nesse,  then  to  use  my  right  sences  as  nature  hath  bestowed  them 
upon  me.  The  bright  shining  clearnes  thereof  I  am  forced  to 
hide  vnder  this  shadow  of  dissimulation,  as  the  sun  doth  hir 
beams  under  some  great  cloud,  when  the  wether  in  summer-time 
ouercasteth :  the  face  of  a  madman  serueth  to  couer  my  gallant 
countenance,  and  the  gestures  of  a  fool  are  fit  for  me,  to  the  end 
that,  guiding  myself  wisely  therein,  I  may  preserue  my  life  for 
the  Danes  and  the  memory  of  my  late  deceased  father ;  for  that 
the  desire  of  reuenging  his  death  is  so  ingraven  in  my  heart,  that 
if  I  dye  not  shortly,  I  hope  to  take  such  and  so  great  vengeance, 
that  thesecountryes  shall  for  euer  speake  thereof.  Neuerthelesse 
I  must  stay  the  time,  meanes,  and  occasion,  lest  by  making  ouer- 
great  hast,  I  be  now  the  cause  of  mine  own  sodaine  ruine  and 


256  HAMLET,  ACT  m. 

For  who,  that's  but  a  queen,  fair,  sober,  wise, 
Would  from  a  paddock,  from  a  bat,  a  gib,9 
Such  dear  concernings  hide  ?  who  would  do  so  ? 
No,  in  despite  of  sense,  and  secrecy, 
Unpeg  the  basket  on  the  house's  top, 
Let  the  birds  fly  ;l  and,  like  the  famous  ape, 
To  try  conclusions,2  in  the  basket  creep, 
And  break  your  own  neck  down. 

QUEEN.  Be  thou  assur'd,  if  words  be  made  of 

breath, 

And  breath  of  life,  I  have  no  life  to  breathe 
What  thou  hast  said  to  me. 

HAM.  I  must  to  England  ;3  you  know  that  ? 


ouerthrow,  and  by  that  meanes  end,  before  I  bcginne  to  effect  my 
hearts  desire :  hee  that  hath  to  doe  with  a  wicked,  disloyal!, 
cruell,  and  discourteous  man,  must  vse  craft,  and  politike  inuen- 
tions,  such  as  a  fine  witte  can  best  imagine,  not  to  discover  his 
interprise;  for  seeing  that  by  force  I  cannot  effect  my  desire, 
reason  alloweth  me  by  dissimulation,  subtiltie,  and  secret  prac- 
tises to  proceed  therein."  STEEVENS. 

9 a  gib,]    So,  in  Drayton's  Epistle  from  Elinor  Cobham 

to  Duke  Humphrey  : 

"  And  call  me  beldam,  gib,  witch,  night-mare,  trot." 
Gib  was  a  common  name  for  a  cat.     So,  in  Chaucer's  Ro- 
rn.av.nt  of  the  Rose,  ver.  6204 : 

" gibbe  our  cat, 

"  That  waiteth  mice  and  rats  to  killen."     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  XI.  p.  200,  n.  7.     MAI.ONE. 

•    '  Unpeg  the  basket  on  the  house's  top, 

Let  the  birds  Jly  ;~]    Sir  John  Suckling,  in  one  of  his  letters, 

may  possibly  allude  to  the  same  story :  "  It  is  the  story  of  the 

jackanapes  and  the  partridges ;  thou  starest  after  a  beauty  till  it 

be  lost  to  thee,  and  then  let'st  out  another,  and  starest  after  that 

till  it  is  gone  too."     WARNER. 

To  try  conclusions, ]     i.  e.  experiments.     See  Vol.  VII.  p. 
266,  n.  3.     STEEVENS. 

3  I  must  to  England;]      Shakspeare  does  not  inform  us  how 
Hamlet  came  to  know  that  he  was  to  be  sent  to  England.  Rosen- 


sc.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  257 

QUEEN.  Alack, 

I  had  forgot ;  'tis  so  concluded  on. 

HAM.   There's   letters  seal'd:*    and  my  two 

schoolfellows, — 

Whom  I  will  trust,  as  I  will  adders  fang'd,5 — . 
They  bear  the  mandate ;  they  must  sweep  my  way,6 
And  marshal  me  to  knavery:  Let  it  work; 
For  'tis  the  sport,  to  have  the  engineer 
Hoist7  with  his  own  petar :  and  it  shall  go  hard, 
But  I  will  delve  one  yard  below  their  mines, 
And  blow  them  at  the  moon  :  O,  'tis  most  sweet, 
When  in  one  line  two  crafts  directly  meet.8 — 

crantz  and  Guildenstern  were  made  acquainted  with  the  King's 
intentions  for  the  first  time  in  the  very  last  scene ;  and  they  do 
not  appear  to  have  had  any  communication  with  the  Prince  since 
that  time.  Add  to  this,  that  in  a  subsequent  scene,  when  the 
King,  after  the  death  of  Polonius,  informs  Hamlet  he  was  to  go 
to  England,  he  expresses  great  surprize,  as  if  he  had  not  heard 
any  thing  of  it  before — This  last,  however,  may,  perhaps,  be 
accounted  for,  as  contributing  to  his  design  of  passing  for  a 
madman.  MALONE. 

4  There* s  letters  seal'd:  &c.]     The  nine  following  verses  are 
added  out  of  the  old  edition.     POPE. 

*  adders  fang'd,]     That  is,  adders  with  their  fangs  or 

poisonous  teeth,  undrawn.  It  has  been  the  practice  of  mounte- 
banks to  boast  the  efficacy  of  their  antidotes  by  playing  with 
vipers,  but  they  first  disabled  their  fangs.  JOHNSON. 

6  they  must  sweep  my  tuay,  &c.]     This  phrase  occurs 

again  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 

" some  friends,  that  will 

"  Sweep  your  'way  for  you."     STEEVENS. 

7  Hoist  &c.]     Hoist,  for  hoised ;  as  past,  for  passed. 

STEEVENS. 

8  When  in  one  line  two  crafts  directly  meet."]  Still  alluding  to 
a  countermine.     MALONE. 

The  same  expression  has  already  occurred  in  K.  John,  Act  IV. 
speech  ult: 

"  Now  powers  from  home,  and  discontents  at  home, 
"  Meet  in  one  line"     STEEVENS. 
VOL.  XVIII.  S 


258  HAMLET,  ACT  in. 

This  man  shall  set  me  packing. 
I'll  lug  the  guts  into  the  neighbour  room  :9 — 
Mother,  good  night. — Indeed,  this  counsellor 
Is  now  most  still,  most  secret,  and  most  grave, 
Who  was  in  life  a  foolish,  prating  knave. 
Come,  sir,  to  draw  toward  an  end  with  you  : ' — 
Good  night,  mother. 

[j&xeunt  severally  ;  HAMLET  dragging  in 
POLONIUS. 


9  Pll  lug  the  guts  into  the  neighbour  room:']  A  line  somewhat 
similar  occurs  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  Ill: 

"  I'll  throw  thy  body  in  another  room, ." 

The  word,  guts  was  not  anciently  so  offensive  to  delicacy  as  it 
is  at  present ;  but  was  used  by  Lyly  (who  made  the  Jirst  attempt 
to  polish  our  language)  in  his  serious  compositions.  So,  in  his 
My  das  t  1592:  "  Could  not  the  treasure  of  Phrygia,  nor  the 
tributes  of  Greece,  nor  mountains  in  the  East,  whose  guts  are 
gold,  satisfy  thy  mind?"  In  short,  guts  was  used  where  we 
now  use  entrails.  Stanyhurst  often  has  it  in  his  translation  of 
Virgil,  1582: 

Pectoribus  inhians  spirantia  consulit  exta. 

*'  She  weenes  her  fortune  by  guts  hoate  smoakye  to 

conster." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  sixth  Iliad: 

" in  whose  guts  the  king  of  men  imprest 

**  His  ashen  lance ; — ."     STEEVENS. 

1  Come,  sir,  to  draw  toward  an  end  tvith  you:"]  Shakspeare 
has  been  unfortunate  in  his  management  of  the  story  of  this 
play,  the  most  striking  circumstances  of  which  arise  so  early  in 
its  formation,  as  not  to  leave  him  room  for  a  conclusion  suitable 
to  the  importance  of  its  beginning.  After  this  last  interview 
with  the  Ghost,  the  character  of  Hamlet  has  lost  all  its  conse- 
quence. STEEVENS. 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  259 

••,-..      i,,  • 

ACT  IV.2    SCENE  I. 

Tlie  same. 


Enter  King,  Queen,  ROSENCRANTZ,  and  GUIL- 

DENSTERN. 

KING.  There's  matter  in  these  sighs  ;  these  pro- 

found heaves  ; 

You  must  translate  :  'tis  fit  we  understand  them  : 
Where  is  your  son  ? 

QUEEN.  Bestow  this  place  on  us  a  little  while.3-— 
[To  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN,  'who 

go  out. 
Ah,  my  good  lord,4  what  have  I  seen  to-night  ! 

KING.  What,  Gertrude  ?  How  does  Hamlet  ? 

QUEEN.  Mad  as  the  sea,  and  wind,  when  both 

contend5 
Which  is  the  mightier  :  In  his  lawless  fit, 


*  Act  IV.~\  This  play  is  printed  in  the  old  editions  without 
any  separation  of  the  Acts.  The  division  is  modern  and  arbi- 
trary ;  and  is  here  not  very  happy,  for  the  pause  is  made  at  a 
time  when  there  is  more  continuity  of  action  than  in  almost  any 
other  of  the  scenes.  JOHNSON. 

3  BestotK  this  place  on  us  a  little  tvhile.']     This  line  is  wanting 
in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

4  my  good  lord,"]    The  quartos  read — mine  oiun  lord. 

STEEVENS. 

5  Mad  as  the  sea,  and  wind,  when  both  contend  &c.]     We 
have  precisely  the  same  image  in  King  Lear,  expressed  with 
more  brevity : 

" he  was  met  even  now, 

"  As  mad  as  the  VEX'D  sea."     MALONE. 

S  2 


260  H  AMLET,  ACT  iv. 

Behind  the  arras  hearing  something  stir, 
Whips  out  his  rapier,  cries,  A  rat!  a  rat! 
And,  in  this  brainish  apprehension,  kills 
The  unseen  good  old  man. 

KING.  O  heavy  deed ! 

It  had  been  so  with  us,  had  we  been  there : 
His  liberty  is  full  of  threats  to  all ; 
To  you  yourself,  to  us,  to  every  one. 
Alas !  how  shall  this  bloody  deed  be  answer'd  ? 
It  will  be  laid  to  us,  whose  providence 
Should  have  kept  short,  restrained,  and  out  of 

haunt,6 

This  mad  young  man  :  but,  so  much  was  our  love, 
We  would  not  understand  what  was  most  fit ; 
But,  like  the  owner  of  a  foul  disease, 
To  keep  it  from  divulging,  let  it  feed 
Even  on  the  pith  of  life.     Where  is  he  gone  ? 

QUEEN.  To  draw  apart  the  body  he  hath  kill'd  : 
O'er  whom  his  very  madness,  like  some  ore,7 


6  out  o/'haunt,]  I  would  rather  read — out  o/'harm. 

JOHNSON. 

Out  of  haunt,  means,  out  of  company.  So,  in  Antony  and 
Cleopatra  : 

"  Dido  and  her  Sichaeus  shall  want  troops, 
"  And  all  the  haunt  be  ours." 
Again,  in  Warner's  Albion1  s  England,  1602,  B.  V.  ch.  xxvi: 

"  And  from  the  smith  of  heaven's  wife  allure  the  amorous 

haunt." 

The  place  where  men  assemble,  is  often  poetically  called  the 
haunt  of  men.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  We  talk  here  in  the  publick  haunt  of  men." 

STEEVENS. 

like  some  ore,]  Shakspeare  seems  to  think  ore  to  be  or, 

that  is,  gold.     Base  metals  have  ore  no  less  than  precious. 

JOHNSON. 

Shakspeare  uses  the  general  word  ore  to  express  gold,  because 
it  was  the  most  excellent  of  ores. — I  suppose  we  should  read 
"  of  metal  base"  instead  of  metals,  which  much  improves  the 
construction  of  the  passage.  M.  MASON. 


K.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  261 

Among  a  mineral  of  metals  base, 

Shows  itself  pure ;  he  weeps  for  what  is  done. 

KING.  O,  Gertrude,  come  away ! 
The  sun  no  sooner  shall  the  mountains  touch, 
But  we  will  ship  him  hence :  and  this  vile  deed 
We  must,  with  all  our  majesty  and  skill, 
Both  countenance  and  excuse. — Hoi  Guildenstern ! 

Enter  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

Friends  both,  go  join  you  with  some  further  aid : 
Hamlet  in  madness  hath  Polonius  slain, 
And  from  his  mother's  closet  hath  he  dragg'd  him: 
Go,  seek  him  out  j  speak  fair,  and  bring  the  body 
Into  the  chapel.     I  pray  you,  haste  in  this. 

[_Exeunt  Ros.  and  GUIL. 

Come,  Gertrude,  we'll  call  up  our  wisest  friends ; 
And  let  them  know,  both  what  we  mean  to  do, 
And  what's  untimely  done  :  so,  haply,  slander,8 — 

He  has  perhaps  used  ore  in  the  same  sense  in  his  Rape  of 
Lucrece: 

"  When  beauty  boasted  blushes,  in  despite 
"  Virtue  would  stain  that  ore  with  silver  white." 
A  mineral  Minsheu  defines  in  his  Dictionary,  1617:  "Any 
thing  that  grows  in  mines,  and  contains  metals."     Shakspeare 
seems  to  have  used  the  word  in  this  sense, — for  a  rude  mass  of 
metals.     In  Bullokar's  English  Expositor,  8vo.  1616,  Mineral 
is  defined,  "  mettall,  or  any  thing  digged  out  of  the  earth." 

MALONE. 

Minerals  are  mines.     So,  in  The  Golden  Remains  of  Hales  of 
Eton,  1693,  p.  34 :  "  Controversies  of  the  times,  like  spirits  in 
the  minerals,  with  all  their  labour,  nothing  is  done." 
Again,  in  Hall's  Virgidemiarum,  Lib.  VI : 
"  Shall  it  not  be  a  wild  fig  in  a  wall, 
"  Or  fired  brimstone  in  a  minerall?"     STEEVENS. 
•so,  haply,  slander,  &c.]    Neither  these  words,  nor  the 


O\/j     I C<l**/fW  9     OCMf/vlvCr  /    •     4A.  V  •      I  J.^  VAH**W*       UAJV.kJ*-'        FT  v*  «fcjj     «• 

following  three  lines  and  an  half,  are  in  the  folio.  In  the  quarto, 
1604,  and  all  the  subsequent  quartos,  the  passage  stands  thus : 


262  HAMLET,  ACTIY. 

Whose  whisper  o'er  the  world's  diameter, 

As  level  as  the  cannon  to  his  blank,9 

Transports  his  poison'd  shot, — may  miss  our  name, 

And  hit  the  woundless  air.1 — O  come  away! 

My  soul  is  full  of  discord,  and  dismay.     \JLxeunt* 

" And  what's  untimely  done. 

"  Whose  whisper  o'er  the  world's  diameter,"  &c. 
the  compositor  having  omitted  the  latter  part  of  the  first  line,  as 
in  a  former  scene,  (see  p.  202,  n.  9.)  a  circumstance  which 
gives  additional  strength  to  an  observation  made  in  Vol.  XVII. 
p.  257,  n.  5.  Mr.  Theobald  supplied  the  lacuna  by  reading, — 
For  haply  slander,  &c.  So  appears  to  me  to  suit  the  context 
better ;  for  these  lines  are  rather  in  apposition  with  those  imme- 
diately preceding,  than  an  illation  from  them.  Mr.  M.  Mason, 
I  find,  has  made  the  same  observation. 

Shakspeare,  as  Theobald  has  observed,  again  expatiates  on  the 
diffusive  power  of  slander,  in  Cymbeline; 

**  -i  No,  'tis  slander ; 

"  Whose  edge  is  sharper  than  the  sword,  whose  tongue 

"  Out-venoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile,  whose  breath 

"  Rides  on  the  posting  winds,  and  doth  bely 

*'  All  corners  of  the  world."     M  ALONE. 
Mr.  Malone  reads — So  viperous  slander.     STEEVEKS. 
9  cannon  to  his  blank,]     The  blank  was  the  white  mark 

at  which  shot  or  arrows  were  directed.     So,  in  King  Lear: 

" let  me  still  remain 

"  The  true  blank  of  thine  eye."    STEEVENS. 

1  .        the  woundless  air.]    So,  in  a  former  scene: 
"  It  is  as  the  air  invulnerable."    MALONE. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  263 

SCENE  II. 
Another  Room  in  the  same. 

Enter  HAMLET. 

HAM. Safely   stowed, — [Ros.    8$c.    within. 

Hamlet !  lord  Hamlet !]    But  soft,2 — what  noise  ? 
who  calls  on  Hamlet  ?  O,  here  they  come. 

Enter  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

Ros.  What  have  you  done,  my  lord,  with  the 
dead  body  ? 

HAM.  Compounded  it  with  dust,3  whereto  'tis 
kin. 


!  But  soft, ~]    I  have  added  these  two  words  from  the 

quarto,  1604.     STEEVENS. 

The  folio  reads : 

"  Ham.  Safely  stowed. 
"  Ros.  &c.  iKithin.  Hamlet !  lord  Hamlet. 
"  Ham.  What  noise,"  &c. 
In  the  quarto,  1604,  the  speech  stands  thus : 
"  Ham.  Safely  stowed;  but  soft,  what  noise?  who  calls  on 
Hamlet  ?"  &c. 

I  have  therefore  printed  Hamlet's  speech  unbroken,  and  in- 
serted that  of  Rosencrantz,  &c.  from  the  folio,  before  the  words, 
but  soft,  &c.  In  the  modern  editions  Hamlet  is  made  to  take 
notice  of  the  noise  made  by  the  courtiers,  before  he  has  heard  it. 

MALONE. 

3  Compounded  it  with  dust,~\   So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II : 

"  Only  compound  me  -with  forgotten  dust." 
Again,  in  our  poet's  71st  Sonnet: 

"  When  I  perhaps  compounded  am  "with  day." 

MALONE. 


264  HAMLET,  ACTIT. 

Ros.  Tell  us  where  'tis;  that  we  may  take  it 

thence, 
And  bear  it  to  the  chapel, 

HAM.  Do  not  believe  it. 
Ros.  Believe  what  ? 

HAM.  That  I  can  keep  your  counsel,  and  not 
mine  own.  Besides,  to  be  demanded  of  a  sponge  ! 
— -what  replication  should  be  made  by  the  son  of 
a  king  ? 

Ros.  Take  you  me  for  a  sponge,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Ay,  sir ;  that  soaks  up  the  king's  counte- 
nance, his  rewards,  his  authorities.  But  such  offi- 
cers do  the  king  best  service  in  the  end :  He  keeps 
them,  like  an  ape,4  in  the  corner  of  his  jaw ;  first 

*  like  an  ape,]  The  quarto  has  apple,  which  is  generally 

followed.  The  folio  has  ape,  which  Sir  1.  Haniuer  has  received, 
and  illustrated  with  the  following  note : 

"  It  is  the  way  of  monkeys  in  eating,  to  throw  that  part  of 
their  food,  which  they  take  up  first,  into  a  pouch  they  are  pro- 
vided with  on  each  side  of  their  jaw,  and  there  they  keep  it, 
till  they  have  done  with  the  rest."  JOHNSON. 

Surely  this  should  be  "  like  an  ape,  an  apple"     FARMER. 

The  reading  of  the  folio,  like  an  ape,  I  believe  to  be  the  true 
one,  because  Shakspeare  has  the  same  phraseology  in  many  other 
places.  The  word  ape  refers  to  the  King,  not  to  his  courtiers. 
He  keepa  them  like  an  ape,  in  the  corner  of  his  jaw,  &c.  means, 
he  keeps  them,  as  an  ape  keeps  food,  in  the  corner  of  his  jaw, 
&c.  So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I:  "  — your  chamber-lie  breeds 
fleas  like  a  loach}'1  i.  e.  as  fast  as  a  loach  breeds  loaches.  Again, 
in  King  Lear:  "  They  flattered  me  like  a  dog;"  i.  e.  as  a  dog 
Javnis  upon  and  Jlatters  his  master. 

That  the  particular  food  in  iShakspeare's  contemplation  was 
an  apple,  may  be  inferred  from  the  following  passage  in  The 
Captain,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher: 

"  And  lie,  and  kiss  my  hand  unto  my  mistress, 
"  As  often  as  an  ape  does  Jbf  an  apple." 

I  cannot  approve  of  Dr.  Fanner's  reading.     Had  our  poet 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  265 

mouthed,  to  be  last  swallowed:  When  he  needs 
what  you  have  gleaned,  it  is  but  squeezing  you, 
and,  sponge,  you  shall  be  dry  again.5 

Ros.  I  understand  you  not,  my  lord. 

HAM.  I  am  glad  of  it :  A  knavish  speech  sleeps 
in  a  foolish  ear.6 

Ros.  My  lord,  you  must  tell  us  where  the  body 
is,  and  go  with  us  to  the  king. 

HAM.  The  body  is  with  the  king,7  but  the  king 
is  not  with  the  body.  The  king  is  a  thing 

meant  to  introduce  both  the  ape  and  the  apple,  he  would,  I  think, 
have  written  not  like,  but  "  as  an  ape  an  apple." 

The  two  instances  above  quoted  show  that  any  emendation  is 
unnecessary.  The  reading  of  the  quarto  is,  however,  defensible. 

MALONE. 

Apple  in  the  quarto  is  a  mere  typographical  error.]  So,  in 
Peele's  Araygnement  of  Paris,  1584-: 

*' you  wot  it  very  well 

"  All  that  be  Dian's  maides  are  vowed  to  halter  apples  in 

hell." 

The  meaning,  however,  is  clearly  "  as  an  ape  does  an  apple." 

RITSON. 

4 and,  sponge,  you  shall  be  dry  again.~\    So,  in  the  7th 

Satire  of  Marston,  1598: 

"  He's  but  a  spunge,  and  shortly  needs  must  leese 

"  His  wrong-got  juice,  when  greatnes'  fist  shall  squeeze 

"  His  liquor  out.""     STEEVENS. 

6  '          A  knavish  speech  sleeps  in  a  foolish  ear.']     This,  if  I 
mistake  not,  is  a  proverbial  sentence.     MALOM:. 

Since  the  appearance  of  our  author's  play,  these  words  have 
become  proverbial ;  but  no  earlier  instance  of  the  idea  conveyed 
by  them,  has  occurred  within  the  compass  of  my  reading. 

STEEVENS. 

7  The  body  is  with  the  king,"]     This  answer  I  do  not  compre- 
hend.    Perhaps  it  should  be, — The  body  is  not  voith  the  king, 
for  the  king  is  not  luith  the  body.     JOHNSON. 

Perhaps  it  may  mean  this, — The  body  is  in  the  king's  house, 
(i.  e.  the  present  king's,)  yet  the  king  (i.  e.  he  who  should  have 
been  king,)  is  not  with  the  body.  Intimating  that  the  usurper 


266  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

GUIL.  A  thing,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Of  nothing:8  bring  me  to  him.     Hide 
fox,  and  all  after.*  [Exeunt. 

is  here,  the  true  king  in  a  better  place.  Or  it  may  mean — the 
guilt  of  the  murder  lien  with  the  king,  but  the  king  is  not  where 
the  body  lies.  The  affected  obscurity  of  Hamlet  must  excuse  so 
many  attempts  to  procure  something  like  a  meaning.  STEEVENS. 

•  Of  nothing:']  Should  it  not  be  read — Or  nothing?  When 
the  courtiers  remark  that  Hamlet  has  contemptuously  called  the 
Icing  a  thing,  Hamlet  defends  himself  by  observing,  that  the  king 
must  be  a  thing,  or  nothing.  JOHNSON. 

The  text  is  right.     So,  in  The  Spanish  Tragedy: 
"  In  troth,  my  lord,  it  is  a  thing  of  nothing." 
And,  in  one  of  Harvey's  Letters,  "  a  silly  bug-beare,  a  sorry 
puffe  of  winde,  a  thing  of  nothing."     FARMER. 

So,  in  Decker's  Match  me  in  London,  1631: 
"  At  what  dost  thou  laugh  ? 
"  At  a  thing  of  nothing,  at  thee." 
Again,  in  Look  about  you,  1600 : 

"  A  very  little  thing,  a  thing  of  nothing"      STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens  has  given  [i.  e.  edit.  1778]  many  parallelisms : 
but  the  origin  of  all  is  to  be  looked  for,  1  believe,  in  the  144th 
Psalm,  ver.  5 :  "  Man  is  like  a  thing  of  nought"  Mr.  Steevens 
must  have  observed,  that  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  and  the 
translation  of  the  Bible  into  English,  furnished  our  old  writers 
with  many  forms  of  expression,  some  of  which  are  still  in  use. 

WHALLEY. 

9 Hide  fox,  &c.]  There  is  a  play  among  children  called, 

Hide  fox,  and  all  after.     HANMER. 

The  same  sport  is  alluded  to  in  Decker's  Satiromastix :  " — our 
unhandsome-faced  poet  does  play  at  bo-beep  with  your  grace, 
and  cries — All  hid,  as  boys  do." 

This  passage  is  not  in  the  quarto.     STEEVENS. 


pc.  Hi.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  267 

SCENE  III. 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  King,  attended, 

KING.  I  have  sent  to  seek  him,  and  to  find  the 

body. 

How  dangerous  is  it,  that  this  man  goes  loose  ? 
Yet  must  not  we  put  the  strong  law  on  him : 
He's  lov'd  of  the  distracted  multitude, 
Who  like  not  in  their  judgment,  but  their  eyes ; 
And,  where  'tis  so,  the  offender's  scourge  is  weigh'd, 
But  never  the  offence.     To  bear  all  smooth  and 

even, 

This  sudden  sending  him  away  must  seem 
Deliberate  pause  :  Diseases,  desperate  grown, 
By  desperate  appliance  are  relievM, 

Enter  ROSENCRANTZ. 

Or  not  at  all. — How  now  ?  what  hath  befallen  ? 

Ros.  Where  the  dead  body  is  bestow'd,  my  lord, 
We  cannot  get  from  him. 
KING.  But  where  is  he  ? 

Ros.  Without,  my  lord ;  guarded,  to  know  your 
pleasure. 

KING.  Bring  him  before  us. 

Ros.  Ho,  Guildenstern !  bring  in  my  lord. 


268  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 


Enter  HAMLET  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

KING.  Now,  Hamlet,  where's  Polonius  ? 

HAM.  At  supper. 

KING.  At  supper  ?  Where  ? 

HAM.  Not  where  he  eats,  but  where  he  is  eaten : 
a  certain  convocation  of  politick  worms  are  e'en 
at  him.  Your  worm  is  your  only  emperor  for  diet : 
we  fat  all  creatures  else,  to  fat  us ;  and  we  fat  our- 
selves for  maggots :  Your  fat  king,  and  your  lean 
beggar,  is  but  variable  service  ;  two  dishes,  but  to 
one  table ;  that's  the  end. 

KING.  Alas,  alas ! J 

HAM.  A  man  may  fish  with  the  worm  that  hath 
eat  of  a  king ;  and  eat  of  the  fish  that  hath  fed  of 
that  worm. 

KING.  What  dost  thou  mean  by  this  ? 
HAM.  Nothing,  but  to  show  you  how  a  king  may 
go  a  progress2  through  the  guts  of  a  beggar. 

KING.  Where  is  Polonius  ? 

HAM.  In  heaven ;  send  thither  to  see  :  if  your 
messenger  find  him  not  there,  seek  him  i'the  other 
place  yourself.  But,  indeed,  if  you  find  him  not 
within  this  month,  you  shall'  nose  him  as  you  go 
up  the  stairs  into  the  lobby. 

KING.  Go  seek  him  there.  [To  some  Attendants. 

1  Alas,  alas!']  This  speech,  and  the  following,  are  omitted 
in  the  folio.  STEEVENS. 

* go  a  progress — ]  Alluding  to  the  royal  journeys  of 

state,  always  styled  progresses  ;  a  familiar  idea  to  those  who,  like 
our  author,  lived  during  the  reigns  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  King 
James  I.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  269 

HAM.  He  will  stay  till  you  come. 

\JLxeunt  Attendants. 

KING.  Hamlet,  this  deed,  for  thine  especial 

safety, — 

Which  we  do  tender,  as  we  dearly  grieve 
For  that  which  thou  hast  done, — must  send  thee 

hence 

With  fiery  quickness:3  Therefore, prepare  thyself ; 
The  bark  is  ready,  and  the  wind  at  help,4 
The  associates  tend,  and  every  thing  is  bent 
For  England. 

HAM.  For  England  ? 

KING.  Ay,  Hamlet. 

HAM.  Good. 

KING.  So  is  it,  if  thou  knew'st  our  purposes. 
HAM.  I  see  a  cherub,  that  sees  them. — But,  come; 
for  England ! — Farewell,  dear  mother. 

KING.  Thy  loving  father,  Hamlet. 

HAM.  My  mother :  Father  and  mother  is  man 
and  wife  ;  man  and  wife  is  one  flesh  ;  and  so,  my 
mother.  Come,  for  England.  [Exit. 

KING.  Follow  him  at  foot;  tempt  him  with  speed 

aboard ; 
Delay  it  not,  I'll  have  him  hence  to-night : 

'  Withjiery  quickness:"]  These  words  are  not  in  the  quartos. 
We  meet  with  fiery  expedition  in  King  Richard  III. 

STEEVENS. 

H the  "wind  at  help,]     I  suppose  it  should  be  read — 

The  bark  is  ready,  and  the  wind  at  helm.     JOHNSON. 

at  help,]    i.  e.  at  hand,  ready, — ready  to  help  or  assist 

you.     RITSON. 

Similar  phraseology  occurs  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre: 
"  —I'll  leave  it 
"  At  careful  nursing."     STEEVENS. 


270  HAMLET,  ACTIV. 

Away  j  for  every  thing  is  seal*d  and  done 
That  else  leans  on  the  affair:  Pray  you,  make  haste. 

[Exeunt  llos.  and  GUIL. 

And,  England,  if  my  love  thou  hold'st  at  aught, 
(As  my  great  power  thereof  may  give  thee  sense ; 
Since  yet  thy  cicatrice  looks  raw  and  red 
After  the  Danish  sword,  and  thy  free  awe 
Pays  homage  to  us,)  thou  may'st  not  coldly  set 
Our  sovereign  process;5  which  imports  at  full, 
By  letters  conjuring6  to  that  effect, 

5 thou  inay'st  not  coldly  set 

Our  sovereign  process;  ]  I  adhere  to  the  reading  of  the  quarto 
and  folio.  Mr.  M.  Mason  observes,  that  "  one  of  the  common 
acceptations  of  the  verb  set,  is  to  value  or  estimate ;  as  we  say 
to  set  at  nought ;  and  in  that  sense  it  is  used  here."  STEEVENS. 

Our  poet  has  here,  I  think,  as  in  many  other  places,  used  an 
elliptical  expression  :  "  thou  may'st  not  coldly  set  by  our  sove- 
reign process ;"  thou  may'st  not  set  little  by  it,  or  estimate  it 
lightly.  "  To  set  by,"  Cole  renders  in  his  Diet.  1679,  by  eestimo. 
"  To  set  little  by,  he  interprets  parvi-facio.  See  many  other 
instances  of  similar  ellipses,  in  Cymbeline,  Act  V.  sc.  v. 

MALONE. 

8  By  letters  c6njuring — ]    Thus  the  folio.   The  quarto  reads: 
By  letters  congruing — .     STEEVENS. 

The  reading  of  the  folio  may  derive  some  support  from  the 
following  passage  in  The  Hy story  of  Hamblet,  bl.  1 :  *'  — mak- 
ing the  king  of  England  minister  of  his  massacring  resolution; 
to  whom  he  purposed  to  send  him,  [Hamlet,]  and  by  letters 
desire  him  to  put  him  to  death."  So  also,  by  a  subsequent  line: 

"  Ham.  Wilt  thou  know  the  effect  of  what  I  wrote  ? 

"  Hor.  Ay,  good  my  lord. 

"  Ham.  An  earnest  conjuration  from  the  king,"  &c. 
The  circumstances  mentioned  as  inducing  the  king  to  send  the 
prince  to  England,  rather  than  elsewhere,  are  likewise  found  in 
The  Hyslory  of  Hamblet. 

Effect  was  formerly  used  for  act  or  deed,  simply,  and  is  so  used 
in  the  line  before  us.  So,  in  Leo's  Historic  of  Africa,  trans- 
lated by  Pory,  folio,  1600,  p.  253 :  "  Three  daies  after  this 
effect,  there  came  to  us  a  Zuum,  that  ia,  a  captaine,"  fire.  See 
also  supra,  p.  250,  n.  2. 


SC.IIL       PRINCK  OF  DENMARK.  271 

The  present  death  of  Hamlet.     Do  it,  England ; 
For  like  the  hectick  in  my  blood  he  rages,7 
And  thou  must  cure  me  :  'Till  I  know  'tis  done, 
Howe'er  my  haps,  my  joys  will  ne'er  begin.8 

[Exit, 

The  verb  to  conjure  (in  the  sense  of  to  supplicate,)  was  for- 
merly accented  on  the  first  syllable.  So,  in  Macbeth: 

"  I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess, 

"  Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it,  answer  me.'* 
Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  I  conjure  thee  but  slowly ;  run  more  fast.'* 
Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

**  I  conjure  thee,  by  Rosaline's  bright  eyes, — '* 
Again,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

"  O  prince,  I  conjure  thee,  as  thou  believ'st,"  &c. 

MALONE. 

7 like  the  hecticlc  in  my  blood  he  rages,~\     So,  in  Love's 

Labour's  Lost  : 

"  I  would  forget  her,  but  a. fever,  she 
"  Reigns  in  my  blood."     MALONE. 

Scaligerhas  a  parallel  sentiment  \-~Febris  hectica  uxor,Sf  non 
nisi  morte  avellenda.  STEEVENS. 

8  Howe'er  my  haps,  my  joys  will  ne'er  begin.]  This  being  the 
termination  of  a  scene,  should,  according  to  our  author's  custom, 
be  rhymed.  Perhaps  he  wrote : 

Howe'er  my  hopes,  my  joys  are  not  begun. 
If  haps  be  retained,  the  meaning  will  be,  'till  I  know  'tis  done, 
I  shall  be  miserable,  whatever  befal  me.     JOHNSON. 

The  folio  reads,  in  support  of  Dr.  Johnson's  remark : 
Howe'er  my  haps,  my  joys  were  ne'er  begun. 

Mr.  Heath  would  read  : 

Howe'er  't  may  hap,  my  joys  will  ne'er  begin. 

STEEVENS. 

By  his  haps,  he  means  his  successes.  His  fortune  was  begun, 
but  his  joys  were  not.  M.  MASON. 

Howe'er  my  haps,  my  joys  will  ne'er  begin.]  This  is  the  read- 
ing of  the  quarto.  The  folio,  for  the  sake  of  rhyme,  reads : 

Howe'er  my  haps,  my  joys  were  ne'er  begun. 
But  this,  I  think,  the  poet  could  not  have  written.     The  King 
is  speaking  of  the  future  time.    To  say,  till  I  shall  be  informed 
that  a  certain  act  has  been  done,  whatever  may  befal  me,  my  joys 
never  had  a  beginning,  is  surely  nonsense.     MALONE. 


272  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

SCENE  IV. 

A  Plain  in  Denmark. 

Enter  FORTINBRAS,  and  Forces,  marching. 

FOR.  Go,  captain,  from  me  greet  the  Danish 

king; 

Tell  him,  that,  by  his  licence,  Fortinbras 
Craves9  the  conveyance  of  a  promised  march 
Over  his  kingdom.     You  know  the  rendezvous. 
If  that  his  majesty  would  aught  with  us, 
We  shall  express  our  duty  in  his  eye,1 
And  let  him  know  so. 

CAP.  I  will  do't,  my  lord. 

FOR.  Go  softly  on. 

\_Exeunt  FORTINBRAS  and  Forces. 


9  Craves — ]     Thus  the  quartos.     The  folio — Claims. 

STEEVENS. 

1  We  shall  express  our  duty  in  his  eye,]  So,  in  Antony  and 
Cleopatra  : 

« tended  her  i'the  eyes." 

In  his  eye,  means,  in  his  presence.  The  phrase  appears  to 
have  been  formularly.  See  The  Establishment  of  the  Household 
of  Prince  Henry,  A.  D.  1610 :  "  Also  the  gentleman-usher  shall 
be  careful  to  see  and  informe  all  such  as  doe  service  in  the 
Prince's  eye,  that  they  perform  their  dutyes"  &c.  Again,  in  The 
Regulations  for  the  Government  of  the  Queen's  Household,  1627: 
" all  such  as  doe  service  in  the  Queen's  eye."  STEEVENS. 


sc.  IK        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  273 


Enter    HAMLET,    ROSENCRANTZ,    GUILDEN- 
STERN,  8$c.    . 

HAM.  Good  sir,  whose  powers  are  these?2 

CAP.  They  are  of  Norway,  sir. 

HAM.  How  purposed,  sir, 

I  pray  you  ? 

CAP.  Against  some  part  of  Poland. 

HAM.  Who 

Commands  them,  sir  ? 

CAP.    The  nephew  to  old  Norway,  Fortinbras. 

HAM.  Goes  it  against  the  main  of  Poland,  sir, 
Or  for  some  frontier  ? 

CAP.  Truly  to  speak,  sir,  and  with  no  addition, 
We  go  to  gain  a  little  patch  of  ground, 
That  hath  in  it  no  profit  but  the  name. 
To  pay  five  ducats,  five,  I  would  not  farm  it  j 
Nor  will  it  yield  to  Norway,  or  the  Pole, 
A  ranker  rate,  should  it  be  sold  in  fee. 

HAM.  Why,  then  the  Polack  never  will  defend  it. 
CAP.  Yes,  'tis  already  garrison'd. 

HAM.  Two  thousand  souls,  and  twenty  thou- 
sand ducats, 

Will  not  debate  the  question  of  this  straw : 
This  is  the  imposthume  of  much  wealth  and  peace; 
That  inward  breaks,  and  shows  no  cause  without 
Why  the  man  dies. — I  humbly  thank  you,  sir. 

CAP.  God  be  wi'you,  sir.  \_Exit  Captain. 

Ros.  WilPt  please  you  go,  my  lord  ? 

*  Good  sir,  &c.]    The  remaining  part  of  this  scene  is  omitted 
in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

VOL.  XVIII.  T 


274  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

HAM.  I  will  be  with  you  straight.     Go  a  little 
before.  \JExeunt  Ros.  and  GUIL. 

How  all  occasions  do  inform  against  me, 
And  spur  my  dull  revenge !  What  is  a  man, 
If  his  chief  good,  and  market  of  his  time,3 
Be  but  to  sleep,  and  feed  ?  a  beast,  no  more. 
Sure,  he,  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse,* 
Looking  before,  and  after,  gave  us  not 
That  capability  and  godlike  reason 
To  fust  in  us  unus'd.     Now,  whether  it  be 
Bestial  oblivion,  or  some  craven  scruple5 
Of  thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event, — 
A  thought,  which,  quartered,  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  Ihave  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  pufPd, 
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, 

1 chief  goodt  and  market  of  his  time,  &c.]    If  his  highest 

good,  and  that  for  •which  he  sells  his  time,  be  to  sleep  and  feed. 

JOHNSOX. 

Market,  I  think,  here  means  profit.    MALONE. 

4 large  discourse,]  Such  latitude  of  comprehension,  such 

power  of  reviewing  the  past,  and  anticipating  the  future. 

JOHNSON. 

* some  craven  scruple — ]    Some  cowardly  scruple.     See 

Vol.  IX.  p.  85,  n.  4.    MALONE. 
So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  Part  I : 

"  Or  durst  not,  for  his  craven  heart,  say  this." 

STEEVENS. 


so.  iv.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          275 

Is,  not  to  stir  without  great  argument  j6 

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,7 

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  j  fight  for  a  plot8 

Whereon  the  numbers  cannot  try  the  cause, 

Which  is  not  tomb  enough,  and  continent,9 

c Rightly  to  be  great, 

Is,  not  to  stir  taithout  &c.]     This  passage  I  have  printed  ac- 
cording to  the  copy.     Mr.  Theobald  had  regulated  it  thus : 

'  Tis  not  to  be  great, 

Never  to  stir  without  great  argument ; 

But  greatly  &c. 
The  sentiment  of  Shakspeare  is  partly  just,  and  partly  romantick. 

Rightly  to  be  great, 

Is,  not  to  stir  without  great  argument ; 
is  exactly  philosophical. 

But  greatly  tojind  quarrel  in  a  stratvt 

When  honour's  at  the  stake. 

is  the  idea  of  a  modern  hero.  But  then,  says  he,  honour  is  an- 
argument,  or  subject  of  'debate,  sufficiently  great,  ewe?  when  honour 
is  at  stake,  we  mustjind  cause  of  quarrel  in  a  strata.  JOHNSON. 

7  Excitements  of  my  reason,  and  my  blood,"]      Provocations 
which  excite  both  my  reason  and  my  passions  to  vengeance. 

JOHNSON. 

* a  plot — ]  A  piece,  or  portion.  See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  152,  n.  9. 

REED. 

So,  in  The  Mirror  for  Magistrates : 

"  Of  grounde  to  win  a  plot,  a  while  to  dwell, 
"  We  venture  lives,  and  send  our  souls  to  hell." 

HENDERSON. 

9 continent,"]      Continent,    in   our   author,    means    that 

which  comprehends  or  encloses.     So,  in  King  Lear  : 

"  Rive  your  concealing  continents" 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  third  Iliad : 

T  2 


276  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

To  hide  the  slain  ? — O,  from  this  time  forth, 
My  thoughts  be  bloody,  or  be  nothing  worth ! 

[Exit. 


SCENE  V. 

Elsinorc.     A  Room  in  the  Castle. 
Enter  Queen  and  HORATIO. 

QUEEN.  1  will  not  speak  with  her. 

HOR.  She  is  importunate  ;  indeed,  distract  j 
Her  mood  will  needs  be  pitied. 
QUEEN.  What  would  she  have  ? 

HOR.  She  speaks  much  of  her  father  j  says,  she 

hears, 
There's  tricks  i'the  world  j    and  hems,  and  beats 

her  heart ; 
Spurns  enviously  at  straws  j1  speaks  things  in  doubt, 

" did  take 

"  Thy  fair  form  for  a  continent  of  parts  as  fair,  — " 
See  King  Lear,  Act  III.  sc.  ii.     STEEVENS. 

Again,  Lord  Bacon,  On  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  4to. 

1633,  p.  7  :  " if  there  be  no  fulnesse,  then  is  the  continent 

greater  than  the  content."     REED. 

1  Spurns  enviously  at  straws  ;]  Envy  is  much  oftener  put  by 
our  poet  (and  those  of  his  time)  for  direct  aversion,  than  for  ma- 
lignity conceived  at  the  sight  nf  another's  excellence  or  happiness. 

So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

"  You  turn  the  good  we  offer  into  envy" 

Again,  in  God's  Revenge  against  Murder,  1621,  Hist.  VI. — 
"  She  loves  the  memory  of  Sypontus,  and  envies  and  detests  that 
of  her  two  husbands."  STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  XIII.  p.  123,  n.  1;  and  Vol.  XV.  p.  64-,  n.  2. 

MALONB. 


sc.  v.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  277 

That  carry  but  half  sense  :  her  speech  is  nothing, 
Yet  the  imshaped  use  of  it  doth  move 
The  hearers  to  collection  ;2  they  aim  at  it,3 
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.4 

QUEEN.  'Twere  good,  she  were  spoken  with  ;5 
for  she  may  strew 

5 to  collection  ;]  i.  e.  to  deduce  consequences  from  such 

premises  ;  or,  as  Mr.  M.  Mason  observes,  "  endeavour  to  col- 
lect some  meaning  from  them."  So,  in  Cymbeline,  scene  the 
last: 

" whose  containing 

"  Is  so  from  sense  to  hardness,  that  I  can 

"  Make  no  collection  of  it." 
See  the  note  on  this  passage.     STEEVENS. 

3 they  aim  at  it,~]     The  quartos  read  —  they  }7awn  at  it. 

To  aim  is  to  guess.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  : 

"  I  aim'd  so  near,  when  I  suppos'd  you  lov'd." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Though  nothing  sure,  yet  much  unhappily.]  i.  e.  though  her 
meaning  cannot  be  certainly  collected,  yet  there  is  enough  to 
put  a  mischievous  interpretation  to  it.  WARBURTON. 

That  unhappy  once  signified  mischievous,  may  be  known  from 
P.  Holland's  translation  of  Pliny's  Natural  History,  Book  XIX. 

ch.  vii :  " the  shrewd  and  unhajjpie  foules  which  lie  upon 

the  lands,  and  eat  up  the  seed  new  sowne."  We  still  use  un- 
lucky in  the  same  sense.  STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  VI.  p.  55,  n.  2 ;  and  Vol.  VIII.  p.  376,  n.  6 ;  and 
Vol.  XV.  p.  57,  n.  6.  MALONE. 

1  '  Tivere  good,  she  tvere  spoken  ivith  y  ]  These  lines  are  given  to 
the  Queen  in  the  folio,  and  to  Horatio  in  the  quarto.  JOHNSON. 

I  think  the  two  first  lines  of  Horatio's  speech  [^Twere  good, 
&c.]  belong  to  him ;  the  rest  to  the  Queen.  BLACKSTONE. 

In  the  quarto,  the  Queen,  Horatio,  and  a  Gentleman,  enter  at 
the  beginning  of  this  scene.  The  two  speeches,  "  She  is  impor- 


273  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

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:6 

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  Den- 
mark ? 

QUEEN.  How  now,  Ophelia  ? 

OPH.  How  should  I  your  true  love  know"1 

From  another  one  ? 
By  his  cockle  hat  and  staff, 
And  his  sandal  shoon.*  [Singing. 


tunate,"  &c.  and  "  She  speaks  much  of  her  father,"  &c.  are 
there  given  to  the  Gentleman,  and  the  line  now  before  UR,  as  well 
as  the  two  following,  to  Horatio:  the  remainder  of  this  speech  to 
the  Queen.  I  think  it  probable  that  the  regulation  proposed  by 
Sir  W.  Blackstone  was  that  intended  by  Shakspeare.  MALONE. 

6 to  some  great  amiss  :]     Shakspeare  is  not  singular  in 

his  use  of  this  word  as  a  substantive.  So,  in  The  Arraignment 
of  Paris,  1584: 

"  Gracious  forbearers  of  this  world's  amiss." 
Again,  in  Lyly's  Woman  in  the  Moon,  1597: 

"  Pale  be  my  looks,  to  witness  my  amiss." 
Again,  in  Greene's  Disputation  between  a  He  Coney-catcher, 
&c.  1592  :  "  revive  in  them  the  memory  of  my  great  amiss." 

STEEVENS. 

Each  toy  is,  each  trifle.     MALONE. 

7  IIoiv  should  I  your  true  love  &c.]  There  is  no  part  of  this 
play  in  its  representation  on  the  stage,  more  pathetick  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 


sc.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  279 

QUEEN.  Alas,  sweet  lady,  what  imports  this  song  ? 
OPH.  Say  you  ?  nay,  pray  you,  mark. 

He  is  dead  and  gone,  lady,  [Sings. 

He  is  dead  and  gone; 
At  his  head  a  grass-green  turf, 

At  his  heels  a  stone. 

0,ho! 

QUEEN.  Nay,  but  Ophelia, 

OPH.  Pray  you,  mark. 

White  his  shroud  as  the  mountain  snow, 

[Sings. 


Enter  King. 
QUEEN.  Alas,  look  here,  my  lord. 

effect.    In  the  latter  the  audience  supply  what  she  wants,  and 
with  the  former  they  sympathize.     SIR  J.  REYNOLDS. 

8  By  his  cockle  hat  and  staff", 

And  his  sandal  shoon.']  This  is  the  description  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  subjects  of  their  plots.  The  cockle-shell 
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. 

So,  in  Green's  Never  too  late,  1616 : 
"  A  hat  of  straw  like  to  a  swain, 
"  Shelter  for  the  sun  and  rain, 
"  With  a  scallop-shell  before,"  &c. 

Again,  in  The  Old  Wives  Tale,  by  George  Peele,  1595 :  "  I 
will  give  thee  a  palmer's  stajfiof  yvorie,  and  a  scallop-shell  of 
beaten  gold."  STEEVENS. 


280  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

OPH.       Larded  all  with  sweet  flower  s ; 9 
Which  bewept  to  the  grave  did  go, ' 
With  true-love  showers. 

KING.  How  do  you,  pretty  lady  ? 

OPH.  Well,  God'ield  you ! 2  They  say,  the  owl 
was  a  baker's  daughter.3  Lord,  we  know  what  we 

9  Larded  all  with  sweet  flowers  ;  ]  The  expression  is  taken 
from  cookery.  JOHNSON. 

1 did  go,"]  The  old  editions  read — did  not  go.  Cor- 
rected by  Mr.  Pope.  STEEVENS. 

a  Well,  God'ield  you  /]  i.  e.  Heaven  reward  you  !  So,  in  An- 
tony and  Cleopatra  : 

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

So,  Sir  John  Grey,  in  a  letter  in  Ashmole's  Appendix  to  his 
Account  of  the  Garter,  Numb.  46:  "  The  king  of  his  gracious 
lordshipe,  God  yeld  him,  hafe  chosen  me  to  be  owne  of  his  bre- 
threne  of  the  knyghts  of  the  garter."  THEOBALD. 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  74,  &c.  n.  9.     STEEVENS. 

3 the  owl  was  a  baker's  daughter.']  This  was  a  metamor- 
phosis of  the  common  people,  arising  from  the  mealy  appearance 
of  the  owl's  feathers,  and  her  guarding  the  bread  from  mice. 

WARBURTON. 

To  guard  the  bread  from  mice,  is  rather  the  office  of  a  cat 
than  an  oval.  In  barns  and  granaries,  indeed,  the  services  of 
the  owl  are  still  acknowledged.  This  was,  however,  no  meta- 
morphosis of  the  common  people,  but  a  legendary  story,  which 
both  Dr.  Johnson  and  myself  have  read,  yet  in  what  book  at 
least  I  cannot  recollect. — Our  Saviour  being  refused  bread  by 
the  daughter  of  a  baker,  is  described  as  punishing  her  by  turning 
her  into  an  owl.  STEEVENS. 

This  is  a  common  story  among  the  vulgar  in  Gloucestershire, 
and  is  thus  related :  "  Our  Saviour  went  into  a  baker's  shop 
where  they  were  baking,  and  asked  for  some  bread  to  eat.  The 
mistress  of  the  shop  immediately  put  a  piece  of  dough  into  the 
oven  to  bake  for  him ;  but  was  reprimanded  by  her  daughter, 
who  insisting  that  the  piece  of  dough  was  too  large,  reduced  it 
to  a  very  small  size.  The  dough,  however,  immediately  after- 
wards began  to  swell,  and  presently  became  of  a  most  enormous 


sc.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  281 

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  be  time, 
And  I  a  maid  at  your  window, 

To  be  your  Valentine  : 

Then  up  he  rose,  and  don'd  his  clothes, 5 
And  ditpp'd  the  chamber  door ; 6 

Let  in  the  maid,  that  out  a  maid 
Never  departed  more. 

size.  Whereupon,  the  baker's  (laughter  cried  out  *  Heugh, 
heugh,  heugh,'  which  owl-like  noise  probably  induced  our 
Saviour  for  her  wickedness  to  transform  her  into  that  bird." 
This  story  is  often  related  to  children,  in  order  to  deter  them 
from  such  illiberal  behaviour  to  poor  people.  DOUCE. 

4  Good  morrow,  'tis  Saint  Valentine's  day,"]     Old  copies: 

To-morrow  is  8fc. 
The  correction  is  Dr.  Farmer's.     STEEVENS. 

There  is  a  rural  tradition  that  about  this  time  of  year  birds 
choose  their  mates.  Bourne,  in  his  Antiquities  of  the  Common 
People,  observes,  that  "  it  is  a  ceremony  never  omitted  among 
the  vulgar,  to  draw  lots,  which  they  term  Valentines,  on  the  eve 
before  Valentine-day.  The  names  of  a  select  number  of  one 
sex  are  by  an  equal  number  of  the  other  put  into  some  vessel ; 
and  after  that  every  one  draws  a  name,  which  for  the  present  is 
called  their  Valentine,  and  is  also  look'd  upon  as  a  good  omen 
of  their  being  man  and  wife  afterwards."  Mr.  Brand  adds,  that 
he  has  "  searched  the  legend  of  St.  Valentine,  but  thinks  there 
is  no  occurrence  in  his  life,  that  could  give  rise  to  this  cere- 
mony." MA  LONE. 

5 don'd  his  clothes,']     To  don,  is  to  do  on,  to  put  on,  as 

doff" is  to  do  off",  put  off.     STEEVENS. 

0  And  dupp'd  the  chamber  door  ;]  To  dup,  is  to  do  upj  to  lift 
the  latch.  It  were  easy  to  write — And  op'd.  JOHNSON. 


282  HAMLET,  Acrir. 

KING.  Pretty  Ophelia  ! 

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


By  GisS  and  by  Saint  Charity,* 

Alack,  andfyefor  shame  ! 
Young  men  will  do't,  if  they  come  to't  ; 

By  coc/i,9  they  are  to  blame. 


To  dup,  was  a  common  contraction  of  to  do  up.     So,  in 
Damon  and  Pythias,  1582 :  " — the  porters  are  drunk;  will  they 
not  dun  the  gate  to-day  ?" 
Lord  Surrey,  in  his  translation  of  the  second  JEneid,  renders 

Panduntur  portfe,  &c. 

"  The  gates  cast  up,  we  issued  out  to  play." 
The  phrase  seems  to  have  been  adopted  either  from  doing  up  the 
latch,  or  drawing  up  the  portcullis.     So,  in  the  ancient  MS.  ro- 
mance of  The  Sowdon  qfBabyloyne,  p.  40  : 

"  To  the  prison  she  hyed  hir  swyth, 

"  Thenmon  dore  up  she  doth." 

Again,  in  The  Cooke's  Play,  in  the  Chester  collection  of  mys- 
teries, MS.  Harl.  1013,  p.  140: 

"  Open  up  hell-gates  anon." 

It  appears  from  Martin  Mark-all's  Apologie  to  the  Bel-man  of 
London,  1610,  that  in  the  cant  of  gypsies,  &c.  Dup  the  gigger, 
signified  to  open  the  doore.  STEEVENS. 

7  By  Gis,]     I  rather  imagine  it  should  be  read : 

By  Cis, 

That  is,  by  St.  Cecily.    JOHNSON. 

See  the  second  paragraph  of  the  next  note.     STEEVENS. 

* by  Saint  Charity,]      Saint  Chanty  is  a  known  saint 

among  the  Roman  Catholicks.  Spenser  mentions  her,  Eclog.  V. 
255: 

"  Ah  dear  lord,  and  sweet  Saint  Charity  /" 
Again,  in  The  Downfall  of  Robert  Earl  of  Huntington,  1601  : 

"  Therefore,  sweet  master,  for  Saint  Charity." 
Again,  in  A  lytell  Geste  ofRobyn  Hode: 

"  Lete  me  go,  then  sayd  the  sheryf, 

"  For  saint  Charyte, — " 
Again,  ibid  : 

"  Gyve  us  some  of  your  spendynge, 

•«  For  saynt  Charyte." 


so.  r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  283 

Quoth  she,  before  you  tumbled  me, 
You  promised  me  to  wed  : 

[He  answers.1] 

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

I  find,  by  Gisse,  used  as  an  adjuration,  both  by  Gascoigne  in 
his  Poems,  by  Preston  in  his  Cambyses,  and  in  the  comedy  of 
See  me  and  see  me  not,  1618  : 

"  By  Gisse  I  swear,  were  I  so  fairly  wed,"  &c. 
Again,  in  King  Edward  III.  1599: 

"  By  Gis,  fair  lords,  ere  many  daies  be  past,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Hey  wood's  23d  Epigram,  Fourth  Hundred: 

"  Nay,  by  Gis,  he  looketh  on  you  maister,  quoth  he." 

STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens's  first  assertion,  though  disputed  by  a  catholick 
friend,  can  be  supported  by  infallible  authority.  "  We  read," 
says  Dr.  Douglas,  "  in  the  martyrology  on  the  first  of  August — 
Romce  passio  sanctarum  virginum,  Fidei,  Spei,  et  CHARITATIS, 
qucB  sub  Hadriano  principe  martyrite  coronam  adeptte  sunt." 

Criterion,  p.  68.     RITSON. 

In  the  scene  between  the  Bastard  Faulconbridge  and  the  friars 
and  nunne,  in  the  First  Part  of  The  troublesome  Raigne  of  King 
John,  (edit.  1779,  p.  256,  £c.)  "  the  nunne  swears  by  Gis,  and 
the  friers  pray  to  Saint  Withold  (another  obsolete  saint  men- 
tioned in  King  Lear,  Vol.  XVII.)  and  adjure  him  by  Saint  Cha- 
ritie  to  hear  them."  BLACKSTONE. 

By  Gis,~]  There  is  not  the  least  mention  of  any  saint  whose 
name  corresponds  with  this,  either  in  the  Roman  Calendar,  the 
service  in  Usum  Sarum,  or  in  the  Benedictionary  of  Bishop 
Athelwold.  I  believe  the  word  to  be  only  a  corrupted  abbrevia- 
tion of  Jesus,  the  letters  J.  H.  S.  being  anciently  all  that  was  set 
down  to  denote  that  sacred  name,  on  altars,  the  covers  of 
books,  &c.  RIDLEY. 

Though  Gis  may  be,  and  I  believe  is,  only  a  contraction  of 
Jesus,  there  is  certainly  a  Saint  Gislen,  with  whose  name  it  cor- 
responds. RITSON. 

9  By  cock,]  This  is  likewise  a  corruption  of  the  sacred  name. 
Many  instances  of  it  are  given  in  a  note  at  the  beginning  of  the 
fifth  Act  of  The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  IV.  STEEVENS. 

\  Pie  answers.]    These  words  I  have  added  from  the  quartos. 

STEEVENS. 


284  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

KING.  How  long  hath  she  been  thus  ? 

OPH.  I  hope,  all  will  be  well.  We  must  be  pa- 
tient :  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  ;2 
good  night,  sweet  ladies  :  good  night,  good  night. 


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,3  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  :  5  Poor  Ophelia 

*  Come,  my  coach  !  Good  night,  ladies  ;    &c.]  In  Marlowe's 
Tamburlaine,  1590,  Zabina  in  her  frenzy  uses   the  same  ex- 

Jression  :  "  Hell,  make  ready  my  coach,  my  chair,  my  jewels, 
come,  I  come"     MALONE. 

3  When  sorroivs  come,  &c.]      In  Ray's  Proverbs   we   find, 
"  Misfortunes  seldom  come  alone,"  as  a  proverbial  phrase. 

REED. 

4  -  but  greenly,]     But  unskilfully;  with  greenness;  that 
is,  without  maturity  of  judgment.     JOHNSON. 

*  In  hugger-mugger  to  inter  him  .•]     All  the  modern  editions 
that  I  have  consulted,  give  it  : 

In  private  to  inter  him  ;  —  . 

That  the  words  now  replaced  are  better,  I  do  not  undertake  to 
prove  ;  it  is  sufficient  that  they  are  Shakspeare's  :  if  phraseology 
is  to  be  changed  as  words  grow  uncouth  by  disuse,  or  gross  by 


sc.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  285 

Divided  from  herself,  and  her  fair  judgment ; 
Without  the  which  we  are  pictures,  or  mere  beasts. 
Last,  and  as  much  containing  as  all  tfcese, 
Her  brother  is  in  secret  come  from  France  : 
Feeds  on  his  wonder,6  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,7 


vulgarity,  the  history  of  every  language  will  be  lost ;  we  shall  no 
longer  have  the  words  of  any  author ;  and,  as  these  alterations 
will  be  often  unskilfully  made,  we  shall  in  time  have  very  little 
of  his  meaning.  JOHNSON. 

On  this  just  observation  I  ground  the  restoration  of  a  gross 
and  unpleasing  word  in  a  preceding  passage,  for  which  Mr.  Pope 
substituted  groan.  See  p.  172,  n.  9.  The  alteration  in  the  pre- 
sent instance  was  made  by  the  same  editor.  MALONE. 

This  expression  is  used  in  The  Revenger's  Tragedy,  1609 : 

" he  died  like  a  politician, 

"  In  hugger-mugger.'* 
Again,  in  Harrington's  Ariosto  .• 

"  So  that  it  might  be  done  in  hugger-mugger" 
Shakspeare  probably  took  the  expression  from  the  following 
passage  in  Sir  Thomas  North's  translation  of  Plutarch : — "  An- 
tonius  thinking  that  his  body  should  be  honourably  buried,  and 
not  in  hugger-mugger." 

It  appears  from  Greene's  Groundwork  of  Coneycatching,  1592, 
that  to  hugger  was  to  lurk  about.  STEEVENS. 

The  meaning  of  the  expression  is  ascertained  by  FlorioTs 
Italian  Dictionary,  1598 :  "  Dinascoso,  Secretly,  hiddenly,  in 
hugger-mugger."  MALONE. 

6  Feeds  on  his  ivonder,"]     The  folio  reads — 

Keeps  on  his  wonder, . 

The  quarto — 

Feeds  on  this  taonder, . 

Thus  the  true  reading  is  picked  out  from  between  them.    Sir 
T.  Hanmer  reads  unnecessarily — 

Feeds  on  his  anger, .     JOHNSON. 

7  Wherein  necessity,  &c.]    Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads  : 

Whence  animosity  of  matter  beggar' d. 
He  seems  not  to  have  understood  the  connection.     Wherein, 


286  HAMLET,  ACT  17. 

Will  nothing  stick  our  person  to  arraign 
In  ear  and  ear.     O  my  dear  Gertrude,  this, 
Like  to  a  murdering  piece,8  in  many  places 
Gives  me  superfluous  death !         [A  Noise  within. 


that  is,  in  "which  pestilent  speeches,  necessity,  or  the  obligation  of 
an  accuser  to  support  his  charge,  will  nothing  stick,  &c. 

JOHNSON. 

8  Like  to  a  murdering  piece,]  Such  a  piece  as  assassins  use, 
with  many  barrels.  It  is  necessary  to  apprehend  this,  to  see 
the  justness  of  the  similitude.  WARBURTON. 

The  same  term  occurs  in  a  passage  in  The  Double  Marriage 
of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  : 

"  And,  like  a  murdering  piece,  aims  not  at  one, 

"  But  all  that  stand  within  the  dangerous  level." 
Again,  in  All's  Lost  by  Lust,  a  tragedy  by  Rowley,  1633 : 

"  If  thou  fail'st  too,  the  king  comes  with  a  murdering 
piece, 

"  In  the  rear." 
Again,  in  A  Fair  Quarrel,  by  Middleton  and  Rowley,  1622: 

"  There  is  not  such  another  murdering  piece 

"  In  all  the  stock  of  calumny." 

It  appears  from  a  passage  in  Smith's  Sea  Grammar,  1627, 
that  it  was  a  piece  of  ordnance  used  in  ships  of  war  :  "  A  case- 
shot  is  any  kinde  of  small  bullets,  nailes,  old  iron,  or  the  like, 
to  put  into  the  case,  to  shoot  out  of  the  ordnances  or  murderers; 
these  will  doe  much  mischiefe,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

A  murdering-piece  was  the  specifick  term  in  Shakspeare's 
time  for  a  piece  of  ordnance,  or  small  cannon.  The  word  is 
found  in  Cole's  Latin  Dictionary,  1679,  and  rendered,  "tormen- 
tum  murale." 

The  small  cannon,  which  are,  or  were,  used  in  the  forecastle, 
half-deck,  or  steerage  of  a  ship  of  war,  were,  within  this  century, 
called  murdering-pieces.  MALONE. 

Perhaps  wfyat  is  now,  from  the  manner  of  it,  called  a  swivel. 
It  is  mentioned  in  Sir  T.  Roes  Voiage  to  the  E.  Indies,  at  the  end 
of  Delia  Valle's  Travels,  1665:  " — the  East  India  company 
had  a  very  little  pinnace... mann'd  she  was  with  ten  men,  and  had 
only  one  small  murdering-piece  within  her."  Probably  it  was 
never  charged  with  a  single  ball,  but  always  with  shot,  pieces  of 
old  iron,  &c.  RITSON. 


sc.  v.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  287 

QUEEN.  Alack!  what  noise  is  this?9 

Enter  a  Gentleman. 

KING.  Attend. 

Where  are  my  Switzers?1  Let  them  guard  the  door: 
What  is  the  matter  ? 

GENT.  Save  yourself,  my  lord ; 

The  ocean,  overpeering  of  his  list,2 
Eats  not  the  flats  with  more  impetuous  haste, 
Than  young  Laertes,  in  a  riotous  head, 
O'erbears  your  officers !  The  rabble  call  him,  lord  j 
And,  as  the  world  were  now  but  to  begin, 
Antiquity  forgot,  custom  not  known, 

6  Alack!  &c.]     This  speech  of  the  Queen  is  omitted  in  the 
quartos.     STEEVENS. 

1  my  Switzers  ?]     I  have  observed  in  many  of  our  old 

plays,  that  the  guards  attendant  on  Kings  are  called  Switzers, 
and  that  without  any  regard  to  the  country  where  the  scene  lies. 
Thus,  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Noble  Gentleman,  Act  III. 
•c.  i: 

" was  it  not 

"  Some  place  of  gain,  as  clerk  to  the  great  band 
"  Of  marrow-bones,  that  the  people  call  the  Switzers  ? 
"  Men  made  of  beef  and  sarcenet  ?"     REED. 
The  reason  is,  because  the  Swiss  in  the  time  of  our  poet,  as 
at  present,  were  hired  to  fight  the  battles  of  other  nations.     So, 
in  Nashe's  Christ's  Teares  over  Jerusalem,  4to.  1594? :  "  Law, 
logicke,  and  the  Switzers,  may  be  hired  to  fight  for  any  body." 

MALONE. 

5  The  ocean,  overpeering  ofhisl'ist,']  The  lists  are  the  barriers 
which  the  spectators  of  a  tournament  must  not  pass.     JOHNSON. 

See  note  on  Othello,  Act  IV.  sc.  i.     STEEVENS. 

List,  in  this  place,  only  signifies  boundary,   i.  e.  the  shore. 
So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II : 

"  The  very  list,  the  very  utmost  bound 
"  Of  all  our  fortunes." 

The  selvage  of  cloth  was  in  both  places,  I  believe,  in  our  au- 
thor's thoughts.    MALONE. 


288  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

The  ratifiers  and  props  of  every  word,1 
They  cry,  Choose  we;  Laertes  shall  be  king! 
Caps,  hands,  and  tongues,  applaud  it  to  the  clouds, 
Laertes  sliall  be  king,  Laertes  king  ! 

QUEEN.  How  cheerfully  on  the  false  trail  they 

cry! 
O,  this  is  counter,  you  false  Danish  dogs.4 

3  The  ratifiers  and  props  of  every  word,]     By  word  is  here 
meant  a  declaration,  or  proposal.     It  is  determined  to  this  sense, 
by  the  inference  it  hath  to  what  had  just  preceded : 
"  The  rabble  call  him  lord,"  &c. 

This  acclamation,  which  is  the  word  here  spoken  of,  was 
made  without  regard  to  antiquity,  or  received  custom,  whose 
concurrence,  however,  is  necessarily  required  to  confer  validity 
and  stability  in  every  proposal  of  this  kind.  HEATH. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  would  transpose  this  line  and  the  next.  Dr. 
Warburton  proposes  to  read,  ward;  and  Dr.  Johnson,  weal, 
instead  of  word.  I  should  be  rather  for  reading,  work. 

TYRWHITT. 

In  the  first  folio  there  is  only  a  comma  at  the  end  of  the  above 
line  ;  and  will  not  the  passage  bear  this  construction  ? — The  rab- 
ble call  him  lord,  and  as  if  the  world  were  now  but  to  begin,  and 
as  if  the  ancient  custom  of  hereditary  succession  were  unknown, 
they,  the  ratifiers  and  props  of  every  word  he  utters,  cry, — Let 
us  make  choice,  that  Laertes  shall  be  king.  TOLLET. 

This  construction  might  certainly  be  admitted,  and  the  ratifiers 
and  props  of  every  word  might  be  understood  to  be  applied  to 
the  rabble  mentioned  in  a  preceding  line,  without  Sir  T.  Han- 
mer's  transposition  of  this  and  the  following  line;  but  there  is 
no  authority  for  what  Mr.  Toilet  adds,  "  of  every  word  he 
[Laertes]  utters,"  for  the  poet  has  not  described  Laertes  as 
having  uttered  a  word.  If,  therefore,  the  rabble  are  called  the 
ratifiers  and  props  of  every  word,  we  must  understand,  "of  every 
word  uttered  by  themselves  :"  which  is  so  tame,  that  it  would  be 
unjust  to  our  poet  to  suppose  that  to  have  been  his  meaning. 
Ratifiers,  &c.  refer  not  to  the  people,  but  to  custom  and  antiquity, 
which  the  speaker  says  are  the  true  ratifiers  and  props  of  every 
word.  The  last  word  however  of  the  line  may  well  be  suspected 
to  be  corrupt;  and  Mr.  Tyrwhitt  has  probably  suggested  the 
true  reading.  MA  LONE. 

4  O,  this  is  counter,  you  false  Danish  dogt.~\  Hounds  run 
counter  when  they  trace  the  trail  backwards.  JOHNSON. 


sc.-r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  289 

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,  pro- 
claims me  bastard ; 

Cries,  cuckold,  to  my  father ;  brands  the  harlot 
Even  here,  between  the  chaste  unsmirched  brow5 
Of  my  true  mother. 

KING.  WThat  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, 

5 unsmirched  Iroiu,"}  i.  e.  clean,  not  defiled.  To  be- 
smirch, our  author  uses,  Act  I.  sc.  v.  and  again  in  King  Henry  V. 
Act  IV.  sc.  iii. 

This  seems  to  be  an  allusion  to  a  proverb  often  introduced  in 
the  old  comedies.  Thus,  in  The  London  Prodigal,  1605:  "  —  as 
true  as  the  skin  between  any  man's  broivs."- 

The  same  phrase  is  also  found  in  Much  Ado  about  Nothing, 
Act  III.  sc.  v.  STEEVENS. 

VOL.  XVIII.  U 


290  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 


Why  thou  art  thus  incens'd;— Let  him  go,  Ger- 
trude ; — 
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,6 
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, 
They  shall  go  far  with  little. 

KING.  Good  Laertes, 

If  you  desire  to  know  the  certainty 

Of  your  dear  father's  death,  is't  writ  in  your  re- 
venge, 

That,  sweepstake,  you  will  draw  both  friend  and 
foe, 

Winner  and  loser  ? 

LAER.  None  but  his  enemies. 

KING.  Will  you  know  them  then  ? 

LAER.  To  his  good  friends  thus  wide  I'll  ope 
my  arms; 

'  That  both  the  worlds  I  give  to  negligence,"]    So,  in  Macbeth  : 
«•  But  let  the  frame  of  things  disjoint,  both  the  ivorlas 
suffer.'*    STEEVENS. 


ae.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          291 

And,  like  the  kind  life-rend* ring  pelican,7 
Repast  them  with  my  blood. 

KING.  Why,  now  you  speak 

Like  a  good  child,  and  a  true  gentleman. 
That  I  am  guiltless  of  your  father's  death, 
And  am  most  sensibly8  in  grief  for  it, 
It  shall  as  level  to  your  judgment  'pear,9 
As  day  does  to  your  eye. 

DANES.  \_Within.~\         Let  her  come  in. 
LAER.  How  now !  what  noise  is  that  ? 

7 life-rendering  pelican,]     So,  in  the  ancient  Interlude 

of  Nature,  bl.  1.  no  date  : 

"  Who  taught  the  cok  hys  watche-howres  to  observe, 
**  And  syng  of  corage  wy th  shryll  throte  on  hye  ? 
"  Who  taught  the  pellycan  her  tender  hart  to  carve  ? — 
"  For  she  nolde  suffer  her  byrdys  to  dye  ?" 
Again,  in  the  old  play  of  King  Leir,  1605  : 
"  I  am  as  kind  as  is  the  pelican, 
"  That  kils  itselfe,  to  save  her  young  ones  lives." 
It  is  almost  needless  to  add  that  this  account  of  the  bird  is  en- 
tirely fabulous.     STEEVENS. 

8 most  sensibly — ]     Thus  the  quarto,  1604.     The  folio, 

following  the  error  of  a  later  quarto,  reads — most  sensible. 

MALONE. 

9 to  your  judgment  'pear,]   So  the  quarto.  The  folio,  and 

all  the  later  editions,  read : 

• to  your  judgment  pierce, 

less  intelligibly.     JOHNSON. 

This  elision  of  the  verb  to  appear,  is  common  to  Beaumont 

and  Fletcher.     So,  in  The  Maid  in  the  Mitt: 

"  They  'pear  so  handsomely,  I  will  go  forward." 

Again : 

"  And  where  they  ypear  so  excellent  in  little, 
"  They  will  but  flame  in  great."     STEEVENS. 


U  2 


292  HAMLET,  ACTIV. 


Enter  OPHELIA,  fantastically  dressed  with  Straw* 
and  Flowers. 

O  heat,  dry  up  my  brains  !  tears  seven  times  salt, 
Burn  out  the  sense  and  virtue  of  mine  eye  !  — 
By  heaven,  thy  madness  shall  be  paid  with  weight, 
Till  our  scale  turn  the  beam.     O  rose  of  May  ! 
Dear  maid,  kind  sister,  sweet  Ophelia  !  — 
O  heavens  !  is't  possible,  a  young  maid's  wits 
Should  be  as  mortal  as  an  old  man's  life  ? 
Nature  is  fine  in  love  :  and,  where  'tis  fine, 
It  sends  some  precious  instance  of  itself 
After  the  thing  it  loves.1 

OPH.  They  bore  him  barefaced  on  the  bier;9 
Hey  no  nonny,  nvnny  hey  nonny:3 
And  in  his  grave  rain'd  many  a  tear;  — 
Fare  you  well,  my  dove  ! 

1  Nature  is  fine  in  love  :  and,  where  'tisjinef 
It  sends  some  precious  instance  of  itself 

After  the  thing  it  loves.']  These  lines  are  not  in  the  quarto, 
and  might  have  been  omitted  in  the  folio  without  great  loss,  for 
they  are  obscure  and  affected  ;  but,  I  think,  they  require  no 
emendation.  Love  (says  Laertes)  is  the  passion  by  which  nature' 
is  most  exalted  and  refined;  and  as  substances,  refined  and  sub- 
tilised, easily  obey  any  impulse,  or  follow  any  attraction,  some 
part  of  nature,  so  purified  and  refined,  flies  off  after  the  attract- 
ing object,  after  the  thing  it  loves  : 

"  As  into  air  the  purer  spirits  flow, 

"  And  separate  from  their  kindred  dregs  below, 

"  So  flew  her  soul."    JOHNSON. 

The  meaning  of  the  passage  may  be  —  That  her  wits,  like  the 
spirit  of  fine  essences,  flew  off  or  evaporated.  Fine,  however, 
sometimes  signifies  artful.  So,  in  All's  ivell  that  ends  tvcU  : 
"  Thou  art  toojine  in  thy  evidence."  STEEVENS. 

Thei/  bore  him  barefaced  on  the  bier  ;  &c.]    So,  in  Chaucer** 
e*  Tale,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  edit.  ver.  2879  : 
"  He  laid  him  bare  the  visage  on  the  bere, 
««  Thcrwith  he  wept  that  pitee  was  to  here."  STEEVENS. 


K.  r.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  293 

LAER.  Hadst  thou  thy  wits,  and  didst  persuade 

revenge, 
It  could  not  move  thus. 

OPH.  You  must  sing,  Down  a-do'wn^  an  you  call 
him  a-down-a.  O,  how  the  wheel  becomes  it!5  It 

3  Hey  no  nonny,  &c.]  These  words,  which  were  the  burthen 
of  a  song,  are  found  only  in  the  folio.  See  Vol.  XVII.  King  Lear, 
Act  III.  sc.  iii.  MALONE. 

These  words  are  also  found  in  old  John  Heywood's  Play  of 
The  Wether: 

"  Gyve  boys  wether,  quoth  a  nonny  nonny." 

I  am  informed,  that  among  the  common  people  in  Norfolk,  to 
nonny  signifies  to  trifle  or  play  with.  STEEVENS. 

4 sing,  Down  a-down,]     Perhaps  Shakspeare  alludes  to 

Phcebe's  Sonnet,  by  Thomas  Lodge,  which  the  reader  may  find 
in  England's  Helicon,  1600 : 
"  Doivne  a-downe, 
"  Thus  Phillis  sung, 
"  By  fancie  once  distressed :  &c. 
"  And  so  sing  I,  with  doiune  a-downe,"  &c. 
Down  a-down  is  likewise  the  burthen  of  a  song  in  The  Three 
Ladies  of  London,  1584,  and  perhaps  common  to  many  others. 

STEEVENS. 

See  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary,  1598:  "  Filibustacchina,  The 
burden  of  a  countrie  song ;  as  we  say,  Hay  doune  a  doune, 
douna"  MALONE. 

5  0,  how  the  wheel  becomes  it.'  &c.]  The  story  alluded  to  I 
do  not  know ;  but  perhaps  the  lady  stolen  by  the  steward  was 
reduced  to  spin.  JOHNSON. 

The  wheel  may  mean  no  more  than  the  burthen  of  the  song, 
which  she  had  just  repeated,  and  as  such  was  formerly  used.  I 
met  with  the  following  observation  in  an  old  quarto  black-letter 
book,  published  before  the  time  of  Shakspeare. 

"  The  song  was  accounted  a  good  one,  thogh  it  was  not 
moche  graced  by  the  whecle  which  in  no  wise  accorded  with  the 
subject  matter  thereof." 

I  quote  this  from  memory,  and  from  a  book,  of  which  I  cannot 
recollect  the  exact  title  or  date;  but  the  passage  was  in  a  pre- 
face to  some  songs  or  sonnets.  I  well  remember,  to  have  met 
with  the  word  in  the  same  sense  in  other  old  books. 

Rota,  indeed,  as  I  am  informed,  is  the  ancient  musical  term 


1294  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

is  the  false  steward,  that  stole  his  master's  daugh- 
ter. 

LAER.  This  nothing's  more  than  matter. 
OPH.  There's  rosemary, that's  for  remembrance; 


in  Latin,  for  the  burden  of  a  song.  Dr.  Fanner,  however,  has 
just  favoured  me  with  a  quotation  from  Nicholas  Breton's  Toyes 
of  an  idle  Head,  1577,  which  at  once  explains  the  word  wheel  in 
the  sense  for  which  I  have  contended : 

"  That  I  may  sing,  full  merrily, 

"  Not  heigh  ho  wele,  but  care  away !" 
i.  e.  not  with  a  melancholy,  but  a  cheerful  burthen. 

I  formerly  supposed  that  the  ballad  alluded  to  by  Ophelia,  waa 
that  entered  on  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company  :  "  Octo- 
ber 1580.  Four  ballades  of  the  Lord  of  Lorn  and  the  False 
Steward,'1  &c.  but  Mr.  Ritson  assures  me  there  is  no  correspond- 
ing theft  in  it.  STEEVENS. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  that  wheel  is  here  used  in  its  ordinary 
sense,  and  that  these  words  allude  to  the  occupation  of  the  girl 
who  is  supposed  to  sing  the  song  alluded  to  by  Ophelia. — The 
following  lines  in  Hall's  Virgidemiarum,  1597,  appear  to  me  to 
add  some  support  to  this  interpretation : 

"  Some  drunken  rimer  thinks  his  time  well  spent, 
"  If  he  can  live  to  see  his  name  in  print  ; 
"  Who  when  he  is  once  fleshed  to  the  presse, 
"  And  sees  his  handselle  have  such  fair  successe, 
*'  Sung  to  the  ivheele,  and  sung  unto  the  payle, 
"  He  sends  forth  thraves  of  ballads  to  the  sale." 
So,  in  Sir  Thomas  Overbury's  Characters,  1614:  **  She  makes 
her  hands  hard  with  labour,  and  her  head  soft  with  pittie ;  and 
when  winter  evenings  fall  early,  sitting  at  her  merry  tuheele,  she 
sings  a  defiance  to  the  giddy  wheele  of  fortune." 

Our  author  likewise  furnishes  an  authority  to  the  same  pur- 
pose. Twelfth  Night,  Act  II.  sc.  iv: 

" Come,  the  song  we  had  last  night : 

"  The  spinsters  and  the  knitters  in  the  sun, 
"  Do  use  to  chaunt  it." 

A  musical  antiquary  may  perhaps  contend,  that  the  contro- 
verted word  of  the  text  alludes  to  an  ancient  instrument  men- 
tioned by  Chaucer,  and  called  by  him  a  rote,  by  others  a  vielle ; 
which  was  played  upon  by  the  friction  of  a  -wheel.  MALONE, 


sc.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  295 

pray  you,  love,  remember :  and  there  is  pansies, 
that's  for  thoughts.6 


c  There 's  rosemary,  that's  for  remembrance; — and  there  is 
pansies,  that's  Jbr  thoughts.^  There  is  probably  some  mythology 
in  the  choice  of  these  herbs,  but  I  cannot  explain  it.  Pansies  is 
for  thoughts,  because  of  its  name,  Pensees ;  but  why  rosemary 
indicates  remembrance,  except  that  it  is  an  ever-green,  and  car- 
ried  at  funerals,  I  have  not  discovered.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  All  Fools,  a  comedy,  by  Chapman,  1605 : 
"  What  flowers  are  these? 
"  The  pansie  this. 
"  O,  that's  for  lovers'  thoughts!" 

Rosemary  was  anciently  supposed  to  strengthen  the  memory, 
And  was  not  only  carried  at  funerals,  but  worn  at  weddings,  as 
appears  from  a  passage  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Elder 
Brother,  Act  III.  sc.  iii. 

And  from  another  in  Ram  Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611 : 

" will  I  be  'wed  this  morning, 

"  Thou  shalt  not  be  there,  nor  once  be  graced  with 
"  A  piece  of  rosemary." 

Again,  in  The  Noble  Spanish  Soldier,  1634  :  I  meet  few  but 
are  stuck  with  rosemary:  every  one  asked  me  who  was  to  be 
married." 

Again,  in  Greene's  Never  too  late,  1616 :  " she  hath  given 

thee  a  nosegay  of  flowers,  wherein,  as  a  top-gallant  for  ail  the 
rest,  is  set  in  rosemary  for  remembrance," 

Again,  in  A  Dialogue  between  Nature  and  the  Phcenix,  by  R. 
Chester,  1601 : 

"  There's  rosemarie ;  the  Arabians  justifie 

"  ( Physitions  of  exceeding  perfect  skill ) 

"  It  comforteth  the  braine  and  memorie"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

Rosemary  being  supposed  to  strengthen  the  memory,  was  the 
emblem  of  fidelity  in  lovers.     So,  in  A  Handfull  of  pleasant 
Delites,  containing  sundrie  new  Sonets,  16mo.  1584: 
"  Rosemary  is  for  remembrance 

"  Betweene  us  daie  and  night ; 
"  Wishing  that  I  might  alwaies  have 

"  You  present  in  my  sight." 

The  poem  in  which  these  lines  are  found,  is  entitled  A  Nose- 
gaie  alwaies  siveetjbr  Lovers  to  send  for  Tokens  of  Love,  &c. 

MA  LONE. 


'296  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

LAER.  A  document  in  madness ;  thoughts  and 
remembrance  fitted. 

OPH.  There's  fennel  for  you,  and  columbines  :7 

7  There's  fennel  for  you,  and  columbines:]  Greene,  in  his 
Quip  for  an  Upstart  Courtier,  1620,  calls  fennel,  -women's  weeds: 
"  fit  generally  for  that  sex,  sith  while  they  are  maidens,  they 
wish  wantonly." 

Among  Turbervile's  Epitaphes,  &c.  p.  42,  b.  I  likewise  find 
the  following  mention  of  fennel  : 
"  \o\afenell  did  declare 

**  (As  simple  men  can  showe) 
"  That  flattrie  in  my  breast  I  bare, 

"  Where  friendship  ought  to  grow." 

I  know  not  of  what  columbines  were  supposed  to  be  emblema- 
tical. They  are  again  mentioned  in  AH  Fools,  by  Chapman, 
160j  : 

"  What's  that  ? — a  columbine  ? 

"  No :  that  thankless  flower  grows  not  in  my  garden." 
Gerard,  however,  and  other  herbalists,  impute  few,  if  any, 
virtues  to  them  ;  and  they  may  therefore  be  styled  thankless,  be- 
cause they  appear  to  make  no  grateful  return  for  their  creation. 
Again,  in  the  15th  Song  of  Drayton's  Polyolbion  : 

"  The  columbine  amongst,  they  sparingly  do  set." 
From  the  Caltha  Poetarum,  1599,  it  should  seem  as  if  this  flower 
was  the  emblem  of  cuckoldom  : 

" the  blue  cornuted  columbine, 

"  Like  to  the  crooked  horns  of  Acheloy."     STEEVENS. 
Columbine  was  an  emblem  of  cuckoldom  on  account  of  the 
horns  of  its  nectaria,  which  are  remarkable  in  this  plant.     See 
Aquilegia,  in  Linnaeus's  Genera,  684.     S.  W. 

The  columbine  was  emblematical  of  forsaken  lovers  : 
"  The  columbine  in  tawny  often  taken, 
**  Is  then  ascribed  to  such  as  are  forsaken" 

Browne's  Britannia's  Pastorals,  B.  I.  Song  ii.  1613. 

HOLT  WHITE. 

Ophelia  gives  her  fennel  and  columbines  to  the  king.     In  the 
collection  of  Sonnets  quoted  above,  the  former  is  thus  mentioned: 
*'  Fennel  is  for flatterers, 

"  An  evil  thing  'tis  sure  ; 
"  But  I  have  alwaies  meant  truely, 

"  With  constant  heart  most  pure." 

See  also,  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary,  1598  :  "  Dare  Jinocchiot 
to  give  fennel, — to  flatter,  to  dissemble."     MALONE. 


vc.  v.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  297 

—there's  rue  for  you  ;  and  here's  some  for  me  : — 
we  may  call  it,  herb  of  grace  o'Sundays:8 — you 

8  there's  rue  for  you  ;   and  here's  some  for  me  : — tve 

may  call  it,  herb  of  grace  o'Sundays  :  Sfc.~]  1  believe  there  is  a 
quibble  meant  in  this  passage  ;  rue  anciently  signifying  the  same 
as  ruth,  i.  e.  sorrow.  Ophelia  gives  the  Queen  some,  and  keeps 
a  proportion  of  it  for  herself.  There  is  the  same  kind  of  play 
with  the  same  word  in  King  Richard  II. 

Herb  of  grace  is  one  of  the  titles  which  Tucca  gives  to  Wil- 
liam Riffus,  in  Decker's  Satiromastix.  I  suppose  the  first  syl- 
lable of  the  surname  Rufus  introduced  the  quibble. 

In  Doctor  Do-good's  Directions,  an  ancient  ballad,  is  the  same 
allusion  : 

"  If  a  man  have  light  fingers  that  he  cannot  charme, 
"  Which  will  pick  men's  pockets,  and  do  such  like  harme, 
"  He  must  be  let  blood,  in  a  scarfe  weare  his  arme, 
*'  And  drink  the  herb  grace  in  a  posset  luke-warme." 

STEEVENS. 

The  following  passage  from  Greene's  Quip  for  an  Upstart 
Courtier,  will  furnish  the  best  reason  for  calling  rue  herb  of 
grace  o'Sundays  :  "  — some  of  them  smil'd  and  said,  Rue  was 
called  Herbegracc,  which  though  they  scorned  in  their  youth, 
they  might  wear  in  their  age,  and  that  it  was  never  too  late  to 
say  miserere."  HENLEY. 

Herb  of  grace  was  not  the  Sunday  name,  but  the  every  day 
name  of  rue.  In  the  common  Dictionaries  of  Shakspeare's 
time  it  is  called  herb  of  grace.  See  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary, 
1598,  in  v.  ruta,  and  Cotgrave's  French  Dictionary,  1611,  in  v. 
rue.  There  is  no  ground,  therefore,  for  supposing  with  Dr. 
Warburton,  that  rue  was  called  herb  of  grace,  from  its  being 
used  in  exorcisms  performed  in  churches  on  Sundays. 

Ophelia  only  means,  I  think,  that  the  Queen  may  with  peculiar 
propriety  on  Sundays,  when  she  solicits  pardon  for  that  crime 
which  she  has  so  much  occasion  to  rue  and  repent  of,  call  her 
rue,  herb  of  grace.  So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  Here  did  she  drop  a  tear ;  here  in  this  place 
"  I'll  set  a  bank  of  rue,  sour  herb  of  grace. 
"  Rue,  even  for  ruth,  here  shortly  shall  be  seen, 
"  In  the  remembrance  of  a  weeping  queen." 
Ophelia,  after  having  given  the  Queen  rue  to  remind  her  of 
the  sorrotv  and  contrition  she  ought  to  feel  for  her  incestuous 
marriage,  tells  her,  she  may  wear  it  with  a  difference,  to  distin- 
guish it  from  that  worn  by  Ophelia  herself;  because  her  tears 


298  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

may  wear  your  rue  with  a  difference.9 — There's  a 
daisy :' — I  would  give  you  some  violets ;  but  they 
withered  all,  when  my  father  died:2 — They  say, 
he  made  a  good  end, 

For  bonny  sweet  Robin  is  all  my  joy? — 

[Sings. 

flowed  from  the  loss  of  a  father,  those  of  the  Queen  ought  to 
flow  for  her  guilt.  MA  LONE. 

9  you  may  wear  your  rue  with  a  difference.]  This  seems 

to  refer  to  the  rules  of  heraldry,  where  the  younger  brothers  of 
a  family  bear  the  same  arms  with  a  difference,  or  mark  of  dis- 
tinction. So,  in  Holinshed's  Reign  of  King  Richard  II.  p.  443: 
"  — because  he  was  the  youngest  of  the  Spensers,  he  bare  a 
border  gules  for  a  difference." 

There  may,  however,  be  somewhat  more  implied  here  than 
is  expressed.  You,  madam,  (says  Ophelia  to  the  Queen,)  may 
call  your  RUE  by  its  Sunday  name,  HERB  OF  GRACE,  and  so 
luear  it  "with  a  difference  to  distinguish  it  from  mine,  which  can 
never  be  any  thing  but  merely  RUE,  i.  e.  sorrow.  STEEVENS. 

1  There's  a  daisy :]  Greene,  in  his  Quip  for  an  Upstart 
Courtier,  has  explained  the  significance  of  this  flower:  "  — Next 
them  grew  the  DISSEMBLING  DAISIE,  to  warne  such  light-of- 
love  wenches  not  to  trust  every  faire  promise  that  such  amorous 
bachelors  make  them."  HENLEY. 

*  /  would  give  you  some  violets  ;  but  they  withered  all,  when 
my  father  died:"]  So,  in  Bion's  beautiful  elegy  on  the  death  of 
Adonis: 

" Vavra  trvv  aura; 

"  flf  rrjvo;  T&VOLKS,  xa<  "avSea  rtavr  s^apy.'/^."   TODD. 

The  violet  is  thus  characterized  in  the  old  collection  of  Son- 
nets above  quoted,  printed  in  1584?: 
"  Violet  is  for  Jaithjulnesse, 

"  Which  in  me  shall  abide ; 
"  Hoping  likewise  that  from  your  heart 
"  You  will  not  let  it  slide."     MALONE. 

3  For  bonny  sweet  Robin  is  all  my  joy,  ]  This  is  part  of  an  old 
song,  mentioned  likewise  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  in  The 
Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  Act  IV.  sc.  i : 

" 1  can  sing  the  broom, 

«  And  Bonny  Robin." 


go.  r.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  299 

LAER.  Thought  and  affliction,4  passion,  hell  it- 
self, 
She  turns  to  favour,  and  to  prettiness. 

OPH.  And  will  he  not  come  again  ?  [Sings. 

And  will  he  not  come  again  ? 

No,  no,  he  is  dead, 

Go  to  thy  death-bed ', 
He  never  will  come  again. 

His  beard  was  as  white  as  snow,5 
All  flaxen  was  his  poll: 

He  is  gone,  he  is  gone, 

And  we  cast  away  moan  ; 
God  9a  mercy  on  his  soul! 

And  of  all  Christian  souls ! 6  I  pray  God.     God  be 
wi*  you !  \_Eocit  OPHELIA. 

In  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  26  April,  1594,  I» 
entered  "  A  ballad,  intituled,  A  doleful  adewe  to  the  last  Erie 
of  Darbie,  to  the  tune  of  Bonny  sweet  Robin."  STEEVENS. 

The  "  Courtly  new  ballad  of  the  princely  wooing  of  the  faire 
maid  of  London,  by  King  Edward,'*  is  also  "  to  the  tune  of 
Bonny  sweet  Robin."  RITSON. 

4  Thought  and  affliction,'}  Thought  here,  as  in  many  other 
places,  signifies  melancholy.  See  Vol.  XVII.  p.  179,  n.  1. 

MALONE. 

*  His  beard  was  as  white  as  snow,  &c.]     This,  and  several 
circumstances  in  the  character  of  Ophelia,  seem  to  have  been 
ridiculed  in  Eastward  Hoe,  a  comedy,  written  by  Ben  Jonson, 
Chapman,  and  Marston,  printed  in  1605,  Act  III: 
"  His  head  as  white  as  milk, 
"  All  flaxen  was  his  hair ; 
"  But  now  he's  dead, 
"  And  laid  in  his  bed, 

"  And  never  will  come  again, 
"  God  be  at  your  labour !"     STEEVENS. 

0  God  'a  mercy  on  his  soul ! 
And  of  all  Christian  souls  /]   Thig  is  the  common  conclusion 


soo  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

LAER.  Do  you  see  this,  O  God  ? 

KING.  Laertes,  I  must  commune  with  your  grief,7 
Or  you  deny  me  right.     Go  but  apart, 
Make  choice  of  whom  your  wisest  friends  you  will, 
And  they  shall  hear  and  judge  'twixt  you  and  me : 
If  by  direct  or  by  collateral  hand 
They  find  us  touch'd,  we  will  our  kingdom  give, 
Our  crown,  our  life,  and  all  that  we  call  ours, 
To  you  in  satisfaction  ;  but,  if  not, 
Be  you  content  to  lend  your  patience  to  us, 
And  we  shall  jointly  labour  with  your  soul 
To  give  it  due  content. 

LAER.  Let  this  be  so  ; 

His  means  of  death,  his  obscure  funeral, — 
No  trophy,  sword,  nor  hatchment,  o'er  his  bones,' 

to  many  of  the  ancient  monumental  inscriptions.  See  Weever's 
Funeral  Monuments,  p.  657,  658.  Berthelette,  the  publisher  of 
Gower's  Confessio  Amantis,  1554-,  speaking  first  of  the  funeral 
of  Chaucer,  and  then  of  Gower,  says :  "  — he  lieth  buried  in 
the  monasterie  of  Seynt  Peter's  at  Westminster,  &c.  On  uhose 
soules  and  all  christen,  Jesu  have  mercie."  STEEVENS. 

7  commune  faith  your  grief,']    The  folio  reads — common. 

To  common  is  to  commune.    This  word,  pronounced  as  anciently 
spelt,  is  still  in  frequent  provincial  use.  So,  in  The  Last  Voyage 
of  Captaine  Frobisher,  by  Dionyse  Settle,  12mo.  bl.  1.  1577: 
"  Our  Generall  repayred  with  the  ship  boat  to  common  or  sign 
with  them."    Again,  in  Holinshed's  account  of  Jack  Cade's  in- 
surrection :  "  — to  whome  were  sent  from  the  king  the  arch- 
bishop &c.  to  common  with  him  of  his  griefs  and  requests." 

STEEVENS. 

8  No  trophy,  sword,  nor  hatchment,  o'er  his  bones,~\     It  was 
the  custom,  in  the  times  of  our  author,  to  hang  a  sword  over  the 
grave  of  a  knight.     JOHNSON. 

This  practice  is  uniformly  kept  up  to  this  day.  Not  only  the 
sword,  but  the  helmet,  gauntlet,  spurs,  and  tabard  ( i.  e.  a  coat 
whereon  the  armorial  ensigns  were  anciently  depicted,  from 
whence  the  term  coat  of  armour,}  are  hung  over  the  grave  of 
every  knight.  SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 


sc.  vi.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          301 

No  noble  rite,  nor  formal  ostentation, — 

Cry  to  be  heard,  as  'twere  from  heaven  to  earth, 

That  I  must  call't  in  question. 

KING.  So  you  shall ; 

And,  where  the  offence  is,  let  the  great  axe  fall. 
I  pray  you,  go  with  me.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  VI. 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 

Enter  HORATIO,  and  a  Servant. 

HOR.  What  are  they,  that  would  speak  with  me  ? 

SERV.  Sailors,  sir ; 

They  say,  they  have  letters  for  you. 

HOR.  Let  them  come  in.— - 

{_Exit  Servant. 

I  do  not  know  from  what  part  of  the  world 
I  should  be  greeted,  if  not  from  lord  Hamlet. 

Enter  Sailors. 

1  SAIL.  God  bless  you,  sir. 
HOR.  Let  him  bless  thee  too. 

1  SAIL.  He  shall,  sir,  an't  please  him.  There's 
a  letter  for  you,  sir ;  it  comes  from  the  ambassador 
that  was  bound  for  England ;  if  your  name  be  Ho- 
ratio, as  I  am  let  to  know  it  is. 

HOR.  \_Reads.~]  Horatio,  when  thou  shalt  have 
overlooked  this,  give  these  fellows  some  means  to  the 
king  ;  they  have  letters  for  him.  Ere  we  were  two 


302  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

days  old  at  sea,  a  pirate  of  very  warlike  appointment 
gave  us  chace :  Finding  ourselves  too  slow  of  sail, 
we  put  on  a  compelled  valour;  and  in  the  grapple  I 
boarded  them :  on  the  instant,  they  got  clear  qf  our 
ship;  so  I  alone  became  their  prisoner.  They  have 
dealt  with  me,  like  thieves  of  mercy ;  but  they  knew 
what  they  did ;  I  am  to  do  a  good  turn  for  them. 
Let  tfie  king  have  the  letters  I  have  sent ;  and  repair 
thou  to  me  with  as  much  haste  as  thou  would* stjly 
death.  I  have  words  to  speak  in  thine  ear,  will  make 
thee  dumb;  yet  are  they  much  too  light  for  the  bore 
of  the  matter.9  These  good  fellows  will  bring  thee 
where  I  am.  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  hold 
their  course  for  England :  of  them  I  have  much  to 
tell  thee.  Farewell. 

He  that  thou  knowest  thine,  Hamlet. 

Come,  I  will  give  you  way  for  these  your  letters ; 
And  do't  the  speedier,  that  you  may  direct  me 
To  him  from  whom  you  brought  them. 

[Exeunt. 


9  for  the  bore  of  the  matter.']    The  bore  is  the  caliber  of 

a  gun,  or  the  capacity  of  the  barrel.  The  matter  (says  Hamlet) 
would  carry  heavier  words.    JOHNSON. 


K.  vii.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  303 

SCENE  VII. 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 

Enter  King  and  LAERTES. 

KING.  Now  must  your  conscience  my  acquit- 
tance seal, 

And  you  must  put  me  in  your  heart  for  friend ; 
Sith  you  have  heard,  and  with  a  knowing  ear, 
That  he,  which  hath  your  noble  father  slain, 
Pursu'd  my  life. 

LAER.  It  well  appears : — But  tell  me, 

Why  you  proceeded  not  against  these  feats, 
So  crimeful  and  so  capital  in  nature, 
As  by  your  safety, greatness,  wisdom,  all  things  else, 
You  mainly  were  stirr'd  up. 

KING.  O,  for  two  special  reasons ; 

Which  may  to  you,  perhaps,  seem  much  unsinew'd, 
But  yet  to  me  they  are  strong.     The  queen  his 

mother, 

Lives  almost  by  his  looks ;  and  for  my  self, 
(My  virtue,  or  my  plague,  be  it  either  which,) 
She  is  so  conjunctive  to  my  life  and  soul, 
That,  as  the  star  moves  not  but  in  his  sphere, 
I  could  not  but  by  her.     The  other  motive, 
Why  to  a  publick  count  I  might  not  go, 
Is,  the  great  love  the  general  gender1  bear  him : 
Who,  dipping  all  his  faults  in  their  affection, 


the  general  gender — ]  The  common  race  of  the  people. 

JOHNSON. 


30*  HAMLET, 

Work  like  the  spring2  that  turneth  wood  to  stone, 
Convert  his  gyves  to  graces ;  so  that  my  arrows, 
Too  slightly  timber' d  for  so  loud  a  wind,3 
Would  have  reverted  to  my  bow  again, 
And  not  where  I  had  aim'd  them. 

LAER.  And  so  have  I  a  noble  father  lost ; 
A  sister  driven  into  desperate  terms ; 
Whose  worth,  if  praises  may  go  back  again,4 

*  Work  like  the  spring  &c.]  This  simile  is  neither  very  sea- 
sonable in  the  deep  interest  of  this  conversation,  nor  very  accu- 
rately applied.  If  the  spring  had  changed  base  metals  to  gold, 
the  thought  had  been  more  proper.  JOHNSON. 

The  folio,  instead  of — tuont,  reads — 'would. 

The  same  comparison  occurs  in  Churchyard's  Choise: 
"  So  there  is  wood  that  water  turns  to  stones." 

In  Thomas  Lupton's  Third  Book  of  Notable  Thinges,  4to. 
bl.  1.  there  is  also  mention  of  "  a  well,  that  whatsoever  is  throwne 
into  the  same,  is  turned  into  a  stone." 

This,  however,  we  learn  from  Ovid,  is  no  modern  supposition : 
"  Flumen  habent  Cicones,  quod  potum  saxea  reddit 
"  Viscera,  quod  tactis  inducit  marmora  rebus." 

See  also,  Hackluyt,  Vol.  I.  p.  565.     STEEVENS. 

The  allusion  here  is  to  the  qualities  still  ascribed  to  the  drop- 
ping well  at  Knaresborough  in  Yorkshire.  Camden  (edit.  1590, 
p.  564, )  thus  mentions  it :  "  Sub  quo  fons  est  in  quern  ex  inipen- 
dentibus  rupibus  aquae  guttatim  distillant, unde  DROPPING  WELL 
vocant,  in  quern  qnicqnid  ligni  immittitur,  lapideo  cortice  brevi 
obduci  Sf  lapidescere  ooscrvatum  est."  REED. 

3  for  so  loud  a  wind,]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto,  1604-, 

reads — for  so  loiied  (irm*d.  If  these  words  have  any  meaning, 
it  should  seem  to  be — The  instruments  of  offence  I  employ, 
would  have  proved  too  weak  to  injure  one  who  is  so  loved  and 
arm'd  by  the  affection  of  the  people.  Their  love,  like  armour  t 
would  revert  the  arrow  to  the  bow. 

The  reading  in  the  text,  however,  is  supported  in  Ascham's 
Toxophilus,  edit.  1589,  p.  57:  "  Weake  bowes  and  lights 
shajtes  cannot  stand  in  a  rough  winde."  STEEVENS. 

Loued  armyd  is  as  extraordinary  a  corruption  as  any  that  is 
found  in  these  plays.  MALONE. 

*  if  praises  may  go  back  again,']  If  I  may  praise  what 

has  been,  but  is  now  to  be  found  no  more.  JOHNSON. 


ac.  VIL       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  305 

Stood  challenger  on  mount  of  all  tjie  age 

For  her  perfections : — But  my  revenge  will  come* 

KING.  Break  not  your  sleeps  for  that :  you  must 

not  think, 

That  we  are  made  of  stuff  so  flat  and  dull, 
That  we  can  let  our  beard  be  shook  with  danger,5 
And  think  it  pastime.  You  shortly  shall  hear  more : 
I  loved  your  father,  and  we  love  ourself ; 
And  that,  I  hope,  will  teach  you  to  imagine, — 
How  now?  what  news?6 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

MESS.  Letters,  my  lord,  from  Hamlet  :7 

This  to  your  majesty;  this  to  the  queen. 

KING.  From  Hamlet !  who  brought  them  ? 

MESS.  Sailors,  my  lord,  they  say :  I  saw  them  not ; 
They  were  given  me  by  Claudio,  he  receiv'd  them 
Of  him  that  brought  them.8 

KING.  Laertes,  you  shall  hear  them  : — 

Leave  us.  [Exit  Messenger. 

[Reads.]  High  and  mighty,  you  shall  know,  I 
am  set  naked  on  your  kingdom.  To-morrow  shall  I 
beg  leave  to  see  your  kingly  eyes:  when  I  shall ^ first 
asking  your  pardon  thereunto,  recount  the  occasion 
of  my  sudden  and  more  strange  return.  Hamlet. 

3  That  <we  can  let  our  beard  be  shook  with  danger,"]  It  is  won- 
derful that  none  of  the  advocates  for  the  learning  of  Shakspeare 
have  told  us  that  this  line  is  imitated  from  Persius,  Sat.  ii : 

"  Idcirco  stolidam  praebet  tibi  vellere  barbam 

"  Jupiter  ?"     STEEVENS. 

6  Hoiu  now  ?  &c.]    Omitted  in  the  quartos.     THEOBALD. 

7  Letters,  &c.]     Omitted  in  the  quartos.     STEEVENS. 

B  Of  him  that  brought  them."]  I  have  restored  this  hemistich 
from  the  quartos.  STEEVENS. 

VOL.  XVIII.  X 


306  HAMLET,  Acrir. 

What  should  this  mean !  Are  all  the  rest  come  back  ? 
Or  is  it  some  abuse,  and  no  such  thing  ? 

LAER.  Know  you  the  hand  ? 

KING.         'Tis  Hamlet's  character.    Naked, — 
And,  in  a  postscript  here,  he  says,  alone: 
Can  you  advise  me  ? 

LAER.  I  am  lost  in  it,  my  lord.     But  let  him 

come; 

It  warms  the  veiy  sickness  in  my  heart, 
That  I  shall  live  and  tell  him  to  his  teeth, 
Thus  diddest  thou. 

KING.  If  it  be  so,  Laertes, 

As  how  should  it  be  so  ? — how  otherwise  ? — 
Will  you  be  rul'd  by  me  ? 

LAER.  Ay,  my  lord ; 

So  you  will  not  o'er-rule  me  to  a  peace. 

KING.  To  thine  own  peace.     If  he  be  now  re- 
turn* d, — 

As  checking  at  his  voyage,9  and  that  he  means 
No  more  to  undertake  it, — I  will  work  him 
To  an  exploit,  now  ripe  in  my  device, 
Under  the  which  he  shall  not  choose  but  fall : 
And  for  his  death  no  wind  of  blame  shall  breathe j 


9  As  checking  at  his  voyage,]  The  phrase  is  from  falconry ; 
and  may  be  justified  from  the  following  passage  in  Hinde's  Eliosto 
Libidinoso,  1606:  "  — For  who  knows  not,  quoth  she,  that  this 
hawk,  which  comes  now  so  fair  to  the  fist,  may  to-morrow  check 
at  the  lure  ?" 

Again,  in  G.  Whetstone's  Castle  of  Delight,  1576: 

"  But  as  the  hawke,  to  gad  which  knowes  the  way, 
"  Will  hardly  leave  to  checfce  at  carren  crowes,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

As  checking  at  his  voyage,"]  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto, 
1604,, exhibits  a  corruption  similar  to  that  mentioned  in  n.  3, 
p.  304.  It  reads : — As  the  king  at  his  voyage.  M ALONE. 


sc.  vii.      PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  307 

But  even  his  mother  shall  uncharge  the  practice, 
And  call  it,  accident. 

LAER.*  My  lord,  I  will  be  rul'd ; 

The  rather,  if  you  could  devise  it  so, 
That  I  might  be  the  organ. 

KING.  It  falls  right. 

You  have  been  talk'd  of  since  your  travel  much, 
And  that  in  Hamlet's  hearing,  for  a  quality 
Wherein,  they  say,  you  shine :  your  sum  of  parts 
Did  not  together  pluck  such  envy  from  him, 
As  did  that  one  ;  and  that,  in  my  regard, 
Of  the  unworthiest  siege.2 

LAER.  What  part  is  that,  my  lord  ? 

KING.  A  very  ribband  in  the  cap  of  youth, 
Yet  needful  too ;  for  youth  no  less  becomes 
The  light  and  careless  livery  that  it  wears, 
Than  settled  age  his  sables,  and  his  weeds, 
Importing  health  and  graveness.3 — Two  months 
since, 

1  Laer.  &c.]   The  next  sixteen  lines  are  omitted  in  the  folio. 

STEEVENS. 

*  Of  the  uniuorthiest  siege.]  Of  the  lowest  rank.  Siege,  for 
seat,  place.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello: 

" 1  fetch  my  birth 

"  From  men  of  royal  siege."     STEEVENS. 

3  Importing  health  and  graveness."]  Importing  here  may  be, 
not  inferring  by  logical  consequence,  but  producing  by  physical 
effect.  A  young  man  regards  show  in  his  dress,  an  old  man, 
health.  JOHNSON. 

Importing  health,  I  apprehend,  means,  denoting  an  attention 
to  health.  MALONE. 

Importing  may  only  signify — implying,  denoting.  So,  in  King 
Henry  VI.  P.  I : 

"  Comets,  importing  change  of  times  and  states." 
Mr.  Malone's  explanation,  however,  may  be  the  true  one. 

STEEVENS. 

x  2 


308  HAMLET,  ACT  ir. 

Here  was  a  gentleman  of  Normandy, — 
I  have  seen  myself,  and  serv'd  against,  the  French, 
And  they  can  well  on  horseback  :  but  this  gallant 
Had  witchcraft  in't ;  he  grew  unto  his  seat ; 
And  to  such  wond'rous  doing  brought  his  horse, 
As  he  had  been  incorps'd  and  demi-natur'd 
With  the  brave  beast:4  so  far  he  topp'd  my  thought, 
That  I,  in  forgery  of  shapes  and  tricks,5 
Come  short  or  what  he  did. 

LAER.  A  Norman,  was't  ? 

KING.  A  Norman. 

LAER.  Upon  my  life,  Lamord.6 

KING.  The  very  same. 

LAER.  I  know  him  well :  he  is  the  brooch,  in- 
deed, 
And  gem  of  all  the  nation. 

KING.  He  made  confession  of  you  ; 
And  gave  you  such  a  masterly  report, 
For  art  and  exercise  in  your  defence,7 
And  for  your  rapier  most  especial, 
That  he  cried  out,  'twould  be  a  sight  indeed, 
If  one  could  match  you :  the  scrimers8  of  their 
nation, 


4  As  he  had  been  incorps'd  and  demi-natur'd 

With  the  brave  beast  :~\  This  is  from  Sidney's  Arcadia, 
B.  II :  "  As  if,  Centaur-like,  he  had  been  one  peece  with  the 
horse.'*  STEEVENS. 

5  in  forgery  of  shapes  and  tricks  t~]     I  could  not  contrive 

so  many  proofs  of  dexterity  as  he  could  perform.     JOHNSON. 

0  Lamord.~\  Thus  the  quarto,  IGOi.  Shakspeare,  I  suspect, 
wrote  Lamode.  See  the  next  speecli  but  one.  The  folio  has — 
Lamound.  MALONE. 

7  'in  your  defence^}    That  is,  in  the  science  of  defence. 

JOHNSON. 


scrimers — ]    The  fencers.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  VIL       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  309 

He  swore,  had  neither  motion,  guard,  nor  eye, 
If  you  oppos'd  them  :  Sir,  this  report  of  his 
Did  Hamlet  so  envenom  with  his  envy, 
That  he  could  nothing  do,  but  wish  and  beg 
Your  sudden  coming  o'er,  to  play  with  you. 
Now,  out  of  this, 

LAER,  What  out  of  this,  my  lord  ? 

KING.  Laertes,  was  your  father  dear  to  you  ? 
Or  are  you  like  the  painting  of  a  sorrow, 
A  face  without  a  heart  ? 

LAER.  Why  ask  you  this  ? 

KING.  Not  that  I  think,  you  did  not  love  your 

father ; 

But  that  I  know,  love  is  begun  by  time;9r  '  '     !;ii 
And  that  I  see,  in  passages  of  proof,1 
Time  qualifies  the  spark  and  fire  of  it. 
There  lives2  within  the  very  flame  of  love 
A  kind  of  wick,  or  snuff,  that  will  abate  it ; 
And  nothing  is  at  a  like  goodness  still ; 

From  escrimeur,  Fr.  a  fencer.     MALONE. 

This  unfavourable  description  of  the  French  swordsmen  is 
not  in  the  folio.  STEEVENS. 

9  love  is  begun  by  time;']  This  is  obscure.  The  mean- 
ing may  be,  love  is  not  innate  in  us,  and  co-essential  to  our  na- 
ture, but  begins  at  a  certain  time  from  some  external  cause,  and 
being  always  subject  to  the  operations  of  time,  suffers  change 
and  diminution,  JOHNSON. 

The  King  reasons  thus : — "  I  do  not  suspect  that  you  did  not 
love  your  father ;  but  I  know  that  time  abates  the  force  of  affec- 
tion." I  therefore  suspect  that  we  ought  to  read : 

love  is  begone  by  time; 

I  suppose  that  Shakspeare  places  the  syllable  be  before  gone,  as 
we  say  ie-paint,  &e-spatter,  fe-think,  &c.     M.  MASON. 

1  passages  of  proof,']  In  transactions  of  daily  experience. 

JOHNSON. 

2  There  lives  &c.]  The  next  ten  lines  are  not  in  the  folio. 

STEEVENS. 


310  HAMLET,  ACT  ir, 

For  goodness,  growing  to  a  plurisy,5 
Dies  in  his  own  too-much :    That  we  would  do, 
We  should  do  when  we  would;   for  this  would 
changes, 

*  For  goodness,  growing  to  a  plurisy, "]  I  would  believe,  for 
the  honour  of  Shakspeare,  that  he  wrote  plethory.  But  I  ob- 
serve the  dramatick  writers  of  that  time  frequently  call  a  fullness 
of  blood  SL  plurisy,  as  if  it  came,  not  from  irtevpy,,  but  from  plust 
pluris.  WARBURTON. 

I  think  the  word  should  be  spelt— -plurisy.  This  passage  is 
fully  explained  by  one  in  Mascal's  Treatise  on  Cattle,  1662, 
p.  1 87 :  **  Against  the  blood,  or  plurisie  of  blood.  The  disease 
of  blood  is,  some  young  horses  will  feed,  and  being  fat  will  in- 
crease blood,  and  so  grow  to  a  plurisie,  and  die  thereof  if  he  have 
not  soon  help."  TOLLET. 

We  should  certainly  read  plurisy,  as  Toilet  observes.  Thus, 
in  Massinger's  Unnatural  Combat,  Malefort  says — 

"  — — — in  a  word, 

"  Thy  plurisy  of  goodness  is  thy  ill." 
And  again,  in  The  Picture,  Sophia  says : 

"  A  plurisy  of  blood  you  may  let  out,"  &c. 
The  word  also  occurs  in  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen.     Arcite,  in 
his  invocation  to  Mars,  says : 

" that  heal'st  with  blood 

"  The  earth,  when  it  is  sick,  and  cur'st  the  world 

«'  Of  the  plurisy  of  people !"     M.  MASON. 

Dr.  Warburton  is  right.  The  word  is  spelt  plurisy  in  the 
quarto,  1604,  and  is  used  in  the  same  sense  as  here,  in  'Tis  Pity 
she's  a  Whore,  by  Ford,  1633 : 

"  Must  your  hot  itch  and  plurisie  of  lust, 

"  The  hey-day  of  your  luxury,  be  fed 

"  Up  to  a  surfeit  ?"     MALONE. 

Mr.  Pope  introduced  this  simile  in  the  Essay  on  Criticismt 
v.  303: 

"  For  works  may  have  more  wit  than  does  them  good, 
"  As  bodies  perish  through  excess  of  blood." 
Ascham  has  a  thought  very  similar  to  Pope's:  "  Twenty  to 
one,  offend  more,  in  writing  to  much,  then  to  litle :  euen  as 
twenty,  fall  into  sicknesse,  rather  by  ouer  much  fidnes,  then  by 
any  tacke,  or  emptinesse."    The  Schole-Master,  4to.  bl.  1.  fol.  43. 

HOLT  WHITE. 


sc.ru.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  311 

And  hath  abatements  and  delays  as  many, 
As  there  are  tongues,  are  hands,  are  accidents ; 
And  then  this  should  is  like  a  spendthrift  sigh, 
That  hurts  by  easing.4     But,  to  the  quick  o'the 
ulcer : 


4  And  then  this  should  is  like  a  spendthrift  sigh, 

That  hurts  by  easing.^  A  spendthrift  sigh  is  a  sigh  that 
makes  an  unnecessary  waste  of  the  vital  flame.  It  is  a  notion 
very  prevalent,  that  sighs  impair  the  strength,  and  wear  out  the 
animal  powers.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  the  Governall  of  Helthe  &c.  printed  by  Wynkyn  de 
Worde :  "  And  for  why  whan  a  man  casteth  out  that  noble  hu- 
mour too  moche,  he  is  hugely  dyscolored,  and  his  body  moche 
febled,  more  then  he  lete  four  sythes,  soo  moche  blode  oute  of 
his  body."  STEEVENS. 

Hence  they  are  called,  in  King  Henry  VI. — blood-consuming 
sighs.  Again,  in  Pericles,  1609: 

"  Do  not  consume  your  blood  tvith  sorrowing." 
The  idea  is  enlarged  upon  in  Fenton's  Tragical  Discourses, 
1579 :  "  Why  staye  you  not  in  tyme  the  source  of  your  scorch- 
ing sighes,  that  have  already  drayned  your  body  of  his  whole- 
some humoures,  appoynted  by  nature  to  gyve  sucke  to  the  en- 
trals  and  inward  parts  of  you  ?" 

The  original  quarto,  as  well  as  the  folio,  reads — a  spendthrift's 
sigh  ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  was  a  corruption,  arising  from 
the  first  letter  of  the  following  word  sigh,  being  an  s.  I  have, 
therefore,  with  the  other  modern  editors,  printed  spendthrift 
sigh,  following  a  late  quarto,  (which  however  is  of  no  authority,) 
printed  in  1611.  That  a  sigh,  if  it  consumes  the  blood,  hurts  us 
by  easing,  or  is  prejudicial  to  us  on  the  whole,  though  it  affords 
a  temporary  relief,  is  sufficiently  clear :  but  the  former  part  of 
the  line,  and  then  this  should,  may  require  a  little  explanation. 
I  suppose  the  King  means  to  say,  that  if  we  do  not  promptly 
execute  what  we  are  convinced  we  should  or  ought  to  do,  we 
shall  afterwards  in  vain  repent  our  not  having  seized  the  fortu- 
nate moment  for  action :  and  this  opportunity  which  we  have 
let  go  by  us,  and  the  reflection  that  we  should  have  done  that, 
which,  from  supervening  accidents,  it  is  no  longer  in  our  power 
to  do,  is  as  prejudicial  and  painful  to  us  as  a  blood-consuming 
sigh,  that  at  once  hurts  and  eases  us. 

I  apprehend  the  poet  meant  to  compare  such  a  conduct,  and 
the  consequent  reflection,  only  to  the  pernicious  quality  which  he 


312  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

Hamlet  comes  back ;  What  would  you  undertake, 
To  show  yourself  in  deed  your  father's  son 
More  than  in  words  ? 

LAER.  To  cut  his  throat  i'the  church. 

KING.  No  place,  indeed,  should  murder  sanc- 

tuarize ; 

Revenge  should  have  no  bounds.     But,  good  La- 
ertes, 

Will  you  do  this,  keep  close  within  your  chamber: 
Hamlet,  return'd,  shall  know  you  are  come  home: 
We'll  put  on  those  shall  praise  your  excellence, 
And  set  a  double  varnish  on  the  fame 
The  Frenchman  gave  you  ;  bring  you,  in  fine,  tor 

gether, 

And  wager  o'er  your  heads :  he,  being  remiss,5 
Most  generous,  and  free  from  all  contriving, 
Will  not  peruse  the  foils ;  so  that,  with  ease, 
Or  with  a  little  shuffling,  you  may  choose 
A  sword  unbated,6  and,  in  a  pass  of  practice,7 

supposed  to  be  annexed  to  sighing,  and  not  to  the  temporary 
ease  which  it  affords.  His  similes,  as  I  have  frequently  had  oc- 
casion to  observe,  seldom  run  on  four  feet.  MALONE. 

4  he,  being  remiss,']    He  being  not  vigilant  or  cautious. 

JOHNSON. 

0  A  sword  unbated,]  i.  e.  not  blunted  as  foils  are.  Or,  as  one 
edition  has  it,  embaited  or  envenomed.  POPE. 

There  is  no  such  reading  as  embaited  in  any  edition.  In  Sir 
Thomas  North's  translation  of  Plutarch,  it  is  said  of  one  of  the 
Metelli,  that  **  he  shewed  the  people  the  cruel  fight  of  fencers, 
at  unrelated  swords."  STEEVENS. 

Not  blunted,  as  foils  are  by  a  button  fixed  to  the  end.  So, 
in  Love's  Labour's  Lost: 

"  That  honour,  which  shall  bate  his  scythe's  keen  edge." 

MALONE. 

7  a  pass  of  practice,]    Practice  is  often  by  Shakspeare, 

and  other  writers,  taken  for  an  insidious  stratagem,  or  privy 
treason,  a  sense  not  incongruous  to  this  passage,  where  yet  4 


sc.  vii.      PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  SIS 

Requite  him  for  your  father. 

LAER.  I  will  do't : 

And,  for  the  purpose,  1*11  anoint  my  sword. 
I  bought  an  unction  of  a  mountebank, 
So  mortal,  that  but  dip  a  knife  in  it, 
Where  it  draws  blood  no  cataplasm  so  rare, 
Collected  from  all  simples  that  have  virtue 
Under  the  moon,  can  save  the  thing  from  death, 
That  is  but  scratched  withal :  I'll  touch  my  point 
With  this  contagion  j  that,  if  I  gall  him  slightly, 
It  may  be  death.8 

KING.  Let's  further  think  of  this ; 

Weigh,  what  convenience,  both  of  time  and  means, 

rather  believe,  that  nothing  more  is  meant  than  a  thrust  Jbr  ex- 
ercise.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Look  about  you,  1600 : 

"  I  pray  God  there  be  no  practice  in  this  change." 
Again  : 

« the  man  is  like  to  die  : 


"  Practice,  by  th'  mass,  practice  by  the  &c.- 


Practice,  by  the  Lord,  practice,  I  see  it  clear." 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  our  author's  Twelfth-Night,  Act  V. 
sc.  ult  : 

"  This  practice  hath  most  shrewdly  passed  upon  thee." 

STEEVENS. 

A  pass  of  practice  is  Q.  favourite  pass,  one  that  Laertes  was 
well  practised  in.  —  In  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Hero's  father 
says: 

"  I'll  prove  it  on  his  body,  if  he  dare, 
"  Despite  his  nice  fence,  and  his  active  practice." 
The  treachery  on  this  occasion,  was  his  using  a  sword  undated 
envenomed.     M.  MASON. 


8  It  may  be  death."]  It  is  a  matter  of  surprise,  that  no  one  of 
Shakspeare's  numerous  and  able  commentators  has  remarked, 
with  proper  warmth  and  detestation,  the  villainous  assassin-like 
treachery  of  Laertes  in  this  horrid  plot.  There  is  the  more  oc- 
casion that  he  should  be  here  pointed  out  an  object  of  abhor- 
rence, as  he  is  a  character  we  are,  in  some  preceding  parts  of  the 
play,  led  to  respect  and  admire.  RITSON, 


314  HAMLET, 

May  fit  us  to  our  shape  :9  if  this  should  fail, 
And  that  our  drift  look  through  our  bad  perform. 

ance, 

'Twere  better  not  assay'd  ;  therefore  this  project 
Should  have  a  back,  or  second,  that  might  hold, 
If  this  should  blast  in  proof.1  Soft ; — let  me  see:— 
We'll  make  a  solemn  wager  on  your  cunnings, — 
I  ha't : 

When  in  your  motion  you  are  hot  and  dry, 
(As  make  your  bouts  more  violent  to  that  end,) 
And  that  he  calls  for  drink,  I'll  have  preferr'dhim* 
A  chalice  for  the  nonce  ;  whereon  but  sipping, 
If  he  by  chance  escape  your  venom'd  stuck,3 

9  May  Jit  us  to  our  shape :~]  May  enable  us  to  assume  proper 
characters,  and  to  act  our  part.  JOHNSON. 

1 blast  in  proof]     This,  I  believe,  is  a  metaphor  taken 

from  a  mine,  which,  in  the  proof  or  execution,  sometimes  breaks 
out  with  an  ineffectual  blast.    JOHNSON. 

The  word  proof  shows  the  metaphor  to  be  taken  from  the 
trying  or  proving  fire-arms  or  cannon,  which  often  blast  or  burst 
in  the  proof.  STEEVENS. 

* I'll  have  preferr'd  him — ]  i.  e.  presented  to  him.  Thus 

the  quarto,  1604.     The  word  indeed  is  mispelt,  prefard.     The 
folio  reads— I'll  have  prepared  him.     MALONE. 

To  prefer  (as  Mr.  Malone  observes,)  certainly  means — to 
present,  offer,  or  bringjbnvard.  So,  in  Timon  of  Athens : 

"  Why  then  preferr'd  you  not  your  sums  and  bills  ?" 

STEEVENS. 

*  If  he  by  chance  escape  your  venom*  d  stuck,]  For  stuck,  read 
tuck,  a  common  name  for  a  rapier.  BLACKSTONE. 

Your  venom'd  stuck  is,  your  venom'd  thrust.  Stuck  was  a 
term  of  the  fencing-school.  So,  in  Twelfth- Night :  "  —  and 
he  gives  me  the  stuck  with  such  a  mortal  motion, — ."  Again,  in 
The  Return  from  Parnassus,  1606  :  "  Here  is  a  fellow,  Judicio, 
that  carried  the  deadly  stoche  in  his  pen." — See  Florio's/ta/t'a/i 
Diet.  1598:  "  Stoccata,  a  foyne,  a  thrust,  a  stoccado  given  in 
fence."  MALONE. 

See  Vol.  V.  p.  371,  n.  9.     STKEVEKS. 


so.  vn.      PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  315 

Our  purpose  may  hold  there.  But  stay,  what  noise?4 

Enter  Queen, 

How  now,  sweet  queen  ?5 

QUEEN.  One  woe  doth  tread  upon  another's  heel," 
$o  fast  they  follow; — -Your  sister's  drown' d,Laertes, 

LAER.  Drown' d !  O,  where  ? 

QUEEN.  There  is  a  willow  grows  ascaunt  the 

brook,7 

That  shows  his  hoar  leaves  in  the  glassy  stream; 
Therewith  fantastick  garlands  did  she  make 
Of  crow-flowers,  nettles,  daisies,  and  long  purples,8 

4 But  stay,  what  noise?"]     I  have  recovered  this  from  the 

quartos.     STEEVENS. 

*  Hotxi  now,  sweet  queen  ?"]  These  words  are  not  in  the 
quarto.  The  word  now,  which  appears  to  have  been  omitted  by 
the  carelessness  of  the  transcriber  or  compositor,  was  supplied  by 
the  editor  of  the  second  folio.  MALONE. 

6  One  woe  doth  tread  upon  another's  heel,~\  A  similar  thought 
occurs  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  1609  : 

"  One  sorrow  never  comes,  but  brings  an  heir, 

"  That  may  succeed  as  his  inheritor.*'     STEEVENS. 

Again,  in  Drayton's  Mortimeriados,  4to.  1596  : 

" miseries,  which  seldom  come  alone, 

"  Thick  on  the  neck  one  of  another  fell." 
Again,  in  Shakspeare's  131st  Sonnet : 

"  A  thousand  groans,  but  thinking  on  thy  fall, 
"  One  on  another's  neck, ."     MALONE. 

Again,  in  Locrine,  1595  : 

"  One  mischief  follows  on  another's  neck." 
And  this  also  is  the  first  line  of  a  queen's  speech  on  a  lady's 
drowning  herself.     RITSON. 

7 ascaunt  the  brook,~]     Thus  the  quartos.  The  folio  reads 

aslant.    Ascaunce  is  interpreted  in  a  note  of  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  on 
Chaucer — askew,  aside,  sideways.     STEEVENS. 

8  _  and  long  purples,]     By  long  purples  is  meant  a  plant, 


316  HAMLET,  ACT  iv. 

That  liberal9  shepherds  give  a  grosser  name, 
But  our  cold  maids  do  dead  men's  fingers  call  them : 
There  on  the  pendent  boughs  her  coronet  weeds 
Clambering  to  hang,  an  envious  sliver  broke  ; 
When  down  her  weedy  trophies,  and  herself, 
Fell  in  the  weeping  brook.     Her  clothes  spread 

wide ; 

And,  mermaid-like,  a  while  they  bore  her  up  : 
Which  time,  she  chanted  snatches  of  old  tunes  ; l 


the  modern  botanical  name  of  which  is  orchis  morio  mas,  an- 
ciently testiculus  morionis.  the  grosser  name  by  which  it  passes, 
is  sufficiently  known  in  many  parts  of  England,  and  particularly 
in  the  county  where  Shakspeare  lived.  Thus  far  Mr.  Warner. 
Mr.  Collins  adds,  that  in  Sussex  it  is  still  called  dead  men's  hands; 
and  that  in  Lyte's  Herbal,  1578,  its  various  names,  too  gross  for 
repetition,  are  preserved. 

Dead  men's  thumbs  are  mentioned  in  an  ancient  bl,  1.  ballad, 
entitled  The  deceased  Maiden  Lover: 

"  Then  round  the  meddowes  did  she  walke, 

"  Catching  each  flower  by  the  stalke, 

"  Such  as  within  the  meddowes  grew ; 

"  As  dead  mans  thumbe,  and  hare-bell  blew." 

STEEVENS. 

One  of  the  grosser  names  of  this  plant  Gertrude  had  a  parti- 
cular reason  to  avoid: — the  rampant  widow.  MALONE. 

9 liberal—']     Licentious.     See   Vol.  IV.  p.  255,  n.  7  ; 

Vol.  VI.  p.  122,  n.  6 ;  Vol.  VIII.  p.  197,  n.  5,  and  p.  275,  n.  5. 

REED. 

Liberal  is  free-spoken,  licentious  in  language.  So,  in  Othello: 
(l  Is  he  not  a  most  profane  and  liberal  counsellor  ?"  Again,  in 
A  Woman's  a  Weathercock,  by  N.  Field,  1612: 

" Next  that,  the  fame 

"  Of  your  neglect,  and  liberal-talking  tongue, 
"  Which  breeds  my  honour  an  eternal  wrong." 

MALONE. 

1  Which  time,  she  chanted  snatches  of  old  tunes;]     Fletcher, 
in  his  Scornful  Lady,  very  invidiously  ridicules  this  incident : 
"  I  will  run  mad  first,  and  if  that  get  not  pity, 
"  I'll  drown  myself  to  a  most  dismal  ditty." 
<:  WAUBURTON. 


ac.  vii.      PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          317 

As  one  incapable  of  her  own  distress,2 

Or  like  a  creature  native  and  indu'd 

Unto  that  element  :3  but  long  it  could  not  be, 

Till  that  her  garments,  heavy  with  their  drink, 

PulPd  the  poor  wretch  from  her  melodious  lay 

To  muddy  death.4 

LAER.  Alas  then,  she  is  drown'd  ? 

QUEEN.  Drown'd,  drown'd. 

The  quartos  read — snatches  of  old  lauds,  i.  e.  hymns. 

STEEVENS. 

*  As  one  incapable  of  her  oi»n  distress,"]  As  one  having  no  un- 
derstanding or  knowledge  of  her  danger.  See  p.  249,  n.  1. 

MALONE. 
That  is,  insensible.     So,  in  King  Richard  III : 

"  Incapable  and  shallow  innocents."     RITSON. 

3  Or  like  a  creature  native  and  indu'd 

Unto  that  element  :~\   I  do  not  think  the  word  indued  is  sense 
in  this  place ;  and  believe  we  should  read  inured. 

Shakspeare  seems  to  have  forgot  himself  in  this  scene,  as  there 
is  not  a  single  circumstance  in  the  relation  of  Ophelia's  death, 
that  induces  us  to  think  she  had  drowned  herself  intentionally. 

M.  MASON. 

As  we  are  indued  with  certain  original  dispositions  and  pro- 
pensities at  our  birth,  Shakspeare  here  uses  indued  with  great 
licentiousness,  for  formed  by  nature ;  clothed,  endowed,  or  fur- 
nished, with  properties  suited  to  the  element  of  water. 

Our  old  writers  used  indued  and  endowed  indiscriminately. 
"  To  indue,"  says  Minsheu  in  his  Dictionary,  "  sepissime  refer- 
tur  ad  dotes  animo  infusas,  quibus  nimirum  ingenium  alicujus 
imbuturn  et  initiatum  est,  unde  et  G.  instruire  est  L.  imbuere. 
Tin/mere  proprie  est  inchoare  et  initiari." 

In  Cotgrave's  French  Dictionary,  1611,  instruire  is  inter- 
preted, "  to  fashion,  to  furnish  with."  MALONE. 

4  To  muddy  deatJi.~\   In  the  first  scene  of  the  next  Act  we  find 
Ophelia  buried  with  such  rites  as  betoken  shejbredid  her  oixin 
life.     It  should  be  remembered,  that  the  account  here  given,  is 
that  of  a  friend  ;  and  that  the  Queen  could  not  possibly  know 
what  passed  in  the  mind  of  Ophelia,  when  she  placed  herself 
in  so  perilous  a  situation.  After  the  facts  had  been  weighed  and 
considered,  the  priest  in  the  next  Act  pronounces,  that  her 
death  was  doubtful.    MALONE. 


318  HAMLET,  ACT?. 

LAER.  Too  much  of  water  hast  thou,  poor 

Ophelia, 

And  therefore  I  forbid  my  tears  :  But  yet 
It  is  our  trick  ;  nature  her  custom  holds, 
Let  shame  say  what  it  will :  when  these  are  gone, 
The  woman  will  be  out.5 — Adieu,  my  lord  ! 
I  have  a  speech  of  fire,  that  fain  would  blaze, 
But  that  this  folly  drowns  it.6  [Exit. 

KING.  Let's  follow,  Gertrude : 

How  much  I  had  to  do  to  calm  his  rage  ! 
Now  fear  I,  this  will  give  it  start  again ; 
Therefore,  let's  follow.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  I. 

A  Church  Yard. 
Enter  2Vo  Clowns,  with  Spades,  <Jr. 

1  CLO.  Is  she  to  be  buried  in  Christian  burial, 
that  wilfully  seeks  her  own  salvation  ? 

2  CLO.  I  tell  thee,  she  is ;  therefore  make  her 
grave  straight : 7  the  crowner  hath  set  on  her,  and 
finds  it  Christian  burial. 

*  The  woman  will  be  out.]  i.  e.  tears  will  flow.  So,  in 
K.  Henry  V: 

"  And  all  the  "woman  came  into  my  eyes."     MALONE. 

See  VoL  XII.  p.  476,  n.  1.     STEEVENS. 

0  But  that  this  folly  drowns  if.]  Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  The 
folio  reads — But  that  this  folly  doubts  it;  i.  e.  flouts  or  extin- 
guishes it.  See  p.  68,  n.  4.  MALONE. 

7 make  her  grave  straight:]     Make  her  grave  from  east 


sc.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  319 

1  CLO.  How  can  that  be,  unless  she  drowned 
herself  in  her  own  defence  ? 

2  CLO.  Why,  'tis  found  so. 

1  CLO.  It  must  be  se  offendendo;  it  cannot  be 
else.     For  here  lies  the  point :  If  I  drown  myself 
wittingly,  it  argues  an  act :  and  an  act  hath  three 
branches ;  it  is,  to  act,  to  do,  and  to  perform : 8 
Argal,  she  drowned  herself  wittingly. 

2  CLO.  Nay,  but  hear  you,  goodman  delver. 

1  CLO.  Give  me  leave.  Here  lies  the  water; 
good :  here  stands  the  man  ;  good :  If  the  man  go 
to  this  water,  and  drown  himself,  it  is,  will  he,  nill 
he,  he  goes ;  mark  you  that :  but  if  the  water  come 
to  him,  and  drown  him,  he  drowns  not  himself: 

to  west  in  a  direct  line  parallel  to  the  church ;  not  from  north  to 
south,  athwart  the  regular  line.  This,  I  think,  is  meant. 

JOHNSON. 

I  cannot  think  that  this  means  any  more  than  make  Tier 
grave  immediately.  She  is  to  be  buried  in  Christian  burial,  and 
consequently  the  grave  is  to  be  made  as  usual.  My  interpre- 
tation may  be  justified  from  the  following  passages  in  King 

Henry  V.  and  the  play  before  us:  " We  cannot  lodge  and 

board  a  dozen  or  fourteen  gentlewomen  who  live  by  the  prick 
of  their  needles,  but  it  will  be  thought  we  keep  a  bawdy-house 
straight" 

Again,  in  Hamlet,  Act  III.  sc.  iv : 

"  Pol.  He  will  come  straight." 

Again,  in  The  Lover's  Progress,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 
"  Lis.  Do  you  fight  straight  ? 
"  Clar.  Yes  presently." 
Again,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  : 

" we'll  come  and  dress  you  straight." 

Again,  in  Othello: 

"  Farewell,  my  Desdemona,  I  will  come  to  thee  straight" 

STEEVENS. 
Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  : 

"  Let  us  make  ready  straight."    MALONE. 

8 an  act  hath  three  branches;  it  is,  to  act,  to  do,  and  to 

perform .- J  Ridicule  on  scholastick  divisions  without  distinction ; 
and  of  distinctions  without  difference.  WARBURTON. 


320  HAMLET,  ACT  K 

Argal,  he,  that  is  not  guilty  of  his  own  death, 
shortens  not  his  own  life. 
2  CLO.  But  is  this  law  ? 

1  CLO.  Ay,  marry  is't ;  crowner's-quest  law.9 

2  CLO.  Will  you  ha*  the  truth  on't  ?  If  this  had 
not  been  a  gentlewoman,  she  should  have  been 
buried  out  or  Christian  burial. 

1  CLO.  Why,  there  tlioti  say'st :  And  the  more 
pity;  that  great  folks  shall  have  countenance  in 
this  world  to  drown  or  hang  themselves,  more  than 
their  even  Christian.1  Come,  my  spade.  There 

9 crowner's-quest  law.']  I  strongly  suspect  that  this  is  a 

ridicule  on  the  case  of  Dame  Hales,  reported  by  Plow-den  in  his 
Commentaries,  as  determined  in  3  Eliz. 

It  seems,  her  husband,  Sir  James  Hales  had  drownod  himself 
in  a  river;  and  the  question  was,  whether  by  this  act  a  for- 
feiture of  a  lease  from  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Canterbury, 
which  he  was  possessed  of,  did  not  accrue  to  the  crown :  an  in- 
quisition was  found  before  the  coroner,  which  found  \\imjt-lo  de 
se.  The  legal  and  logical  subtilties,  arising  from  the  course  of 
the  argument  of  this  case,  gave  a  very  fair  opportunity  for  a 
sneer  at  crowner's  quest-law.  The  expression,  a  little  before, 
that  an  act  hath  three  branches,  &c.  is  so  pointed  an  allusion  to 
the  case  I  mention,  that  I  cannot  doubt  but  that  Shakspeare  was 
acquainted  with,  and  meant  to  laugh  at  it. 

It  may  be  added,  that  on  this  occasion  a  great  deal  of  subtilty 
was  used,  to  ascertain  whether  Sir  James  was  the  agent  or  the 
patient;  or,  in  other  words,  whether  Ac  went  to  the  water,  or  the 
•water  came  to  him.  The  cause  of  Sir  James's  madness  was  the 
circumstance  of  his  having  been  the  judge  who  condemned  Lady 
Jane  Grey.  SIR  J.  HAWKINS. 

If  Shakspeare  meant  to  allude  to  the  case  of  Dame  Hales, 
(which  indeed  seems  not  improbable,)  he  must  have  heard  of 
that  case  in  conversation  ;  for  it  was  determined  before  he  was 
born,  and  Plowden's  Commentaries,  in  which  it  is  reported, 
were  not  translated  into  English  till  a  few  years  ago.  Our  au- 
thor's study  was  probably  not  much  encumbered  with  old  French 
Reports.  MALONE. 

1 their   even  'Christian.']     So,   all   the   old   books,   and 

rightly.     An  old  English  expression  for  fellow-christian. 

THIRLBY. 


sc.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  321 

is  no  ancient  gentlemen  but  gardeners,  ditchers, 
andgrave-makers;  they  hold  up  Adam's  profession. 

2  CLO.  Was  he  a  gentleman  ? 

1  CLO.  He  was  the  first  that  ever  bore  arms. 

2  CLO.*  Why,  he  had  none. 

1  CLO.  What,   art  a  heathen  ?  How  dost  thou 
understandthe  scripture?  The  scripture  says,  Adam 
digged;  Could  he  dig  without  arms  ?  I'll  put  an- 
other question  to  thee  ;  if  thou  answerest  me  not 
to  the  purpose,  confess  thyself 3 

2  CLO.  Go  to. 

1  CLO.  What  is  he,  that  builds  stronger  than 
either  the  mason,  the  shipwright,  or  the  carpenter  ? 


So,  in  Chaucer's  Jack  Upland:  "  If  freres  cannot  or  mow 
not  excuse  'hem  of  these  questions  asked  of  'hem,  it  seemeth 
that  they  be  horrible  giltie  against  God,  and  ther  even  Chris- 
tian;" &c. 

Again,  in  Gower,  de  Confessione  Amantis,  Lib.  V.  fol.  102  : 
"  Of  beautie  sighe  he  never  hir  even." 

Again,  Chaucer's  Persones  Tale  :  " of  his  neighbour,  that 

is  to  sayn,  of  his  even  cristen,"  &c.  This  phrase  also  occurs  fre- 
quently in  the  Paston  Letters.  See  Vol.  III.  p.  4-21,  &c.  &c. 
"  That  is  to  say,  in  relieving  and  sustenance  of  your  even  chris- 
ten," &c. — Again:  " to  dispose  and  help  your  even  chris- 
ten." STEEVENS. 

So  King  Henry  Eighth,  in  his  answer  to  parliament  in  1546: 

" you  might  say  that  I,  beyng  put  in  so  speciall  a  trust  as  I 

am  in  this  case,  were  no  trustie  frende  to  you,  nor  charitable 
man  to  mine  even  Christian, — ."  Hall's  Chronicle,  fol.  261. 

MALONE 

*  2  Clo.~\  This  speech,  and  the  next  as  far  as — "without  arms, 
is  not  in  the  quartos.  STEEVENS. 

3 confess  thyself—']   and  be  hanged,  the  Clown,  I  suppose, 

would  have  said,  if  he  had  not  been  interrupted.  This  was  a 
common  proverbial  sentence.  See  Othello,  Act  IV.  sc.  i. — He 
might,  however,  have  intended  to  say,  confess  thyself  an  ass. 

MALONE. 

VOL.  XVIII.  Y 


322  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

2  CLO.  The  gallows-maker;  for  that  frame  out- 
lives a  thousand  tenants. 

1  CLO.   I  like  thy  wit  well,  in  good  faith  ;  the 
gallows  does  well :  But  how  does  it  well  ?  it  does 
well  to  those  that  do  ill :  now  thou  dost  ill,  to  say, 
the  gallows  isbuilt  stronger  than  the  church;  argal, 
the  gallows  may  do  well  to  thee.    To't  again  ; 
come. 

2  CLO.  Who  builds4  stronger  than  a  mason,  a 
shipwright,  or  a  carpenter  ? 

1  CLO.  Ay,  tell  me  that,  and  unyoke.5 

2  CLO.  Marry,  now  I  can  tell. 

1  CLO.  To't. 

2  CLO.  Mass,  I  cannot  tell. 


*  Who  builds  &c.]     The  inquisitive  reader  may  meet  with  aa 
assemblage  of  such  queries  (which  perhaps  composed  the  chief 
festivity  of  our  ancestors  by  an  evening  fire)  in  a  volume  of  very 
scarce  tracts,  preserved  in  the  University  Library,  at  Cambridge, 
D.  5.  2.     The  innocence  of  these  Demaundes  Joyous  may  de- 
serve a  praise  which  is  not  always  due  to  their  delicacy. 

STEEVENS. 

*  Ayt  tell  me  that,  and  unyoke."]    If  it  be  not  sufficient  to  say, 
with  Dr.  Warburton,  that  this  phrase  might  be  taken  from  hus- 
bandry, without  much  depth  of  reading,  we  may  produce  it 
from  a  dittie  of  the  workmen  of  Dover,  preserved  in  the  addition* 
to  Holinshed,  p.  1546 : 

"  My  bow  is  broke,  I  would  unyoke, 

"  My  foot  is  sore,  I  can  worke  no  more."    FARMER. 

Again,  in  Drayton's  Polyolbion,  at  the  end  of  Song  I : 

"  Here  I'll  unyoke  a  while  and  turne  my  steeds  to  meat." 
Again,  in  P.  Holland's  translation  of  Pliny's  Natural  History, 
p.  593 :  "  —  in  the  evening,  and  when  thou  dost  unyoke." 

STEEVEHS. 


sc.i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  323 


Enter  HAMLET  and  HORATIO,  at  a  distance. 

1  CLO.  Cudgel  thy  brains  no  more  about  it;5 
for  your  dull  ass  will  not  mend  his  pace  with  beat- 
ing :  and,  when  you  are  asked  this  question  next, 
say,  a  grave-maker ;  the  houses  that  he  makes,  last 
till  doomsday.  Go,  get  thee  to  Yaughan,  and  fetch 
me  a  stoup  of  liquor.  [Exit  2  Clown. 

1  Clown  digs,  and  sings. 

In  youth,  'when  I  did  love,  did  lave? 

Methought,  it  was  very  sweet, 
To  contract,  O,  the  time,jbr,  ah,  my  behove 

0,  methought,  there  was  nothing  meet.* 


6  Cudgel  thy  brains  no  more  about  it;~\     So,  in  The  Maydes 
Metamorphosis,  by  Lyly,  1600: 

"  I»  vain  I  fear,  /  beat  my  brains  about 

"  Proving  by  search  to  find  my  mistresse  out."      MALONE. 

7  In  youth,  luhen  I  did  love,  &c.]     The  three  stanzas,  sung 
here  by  the  Grave-Digger,  are  extracted,  with  a  slight  variation, 
from  a  little  poem,  called  The  aged  Lover  renounceth   Love, 
written  by  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey,  who  flourished  in  the 
reign  of  King  Henry  VIII.  and  who  was  beheaded  1547,  on  a 
strained  accusation  of  treason.     THEOBALD. 

8  To  contract,  O,  the  time,  for,  ah,  my  behove 

O,  methought,  there  luas  nothing  meet.~\  This  passage,  as 
it  stands,  is  absolute  nonsense;  but  if  we  read  "  for  aye,"  instead 
of  "  for  ah,"  it  will  have  some  kind  of  sense,  as  it  may  mean, 
"  that  it  was  not  meet,  though  he  was  in  love,  to  contract  him- 
self/or  ever."  M.  MASON. 

Dr.  Percy  is  of  opinion  that  the  different  corruptions  in  these 
stanzas,  might  have  been  "  designed  by  the  poet  himself,  the 
better  to  paint  the  character  of  an  illiterate  clown." 

Behove  is  interest,  convenience.  So,  in  the  4th  Book  of  Phaer's 
rersion  of  the  JEneid  .• 

" ~  wilt  for  thyne  own  behove."    STEEVENS. 

Y  2 


324  HAMLET,  ACT  v. 

HAM.  Has  this  fellow  no  feeling  of  his  business? 
he  sings  at  grave-making. 

HOR.  Custom  hath  made  it  in  him  a  property 
of  easiness. 

HAM.  'Tis  e'en  so :  the  hand  of  little  employ- 
ment hath  the  daintier  sense. 


1  CLO.  But  age,  with  his  stealing  steps, 
Hath  claw'd  me  in  his  clutch, 
And  hath  shipped  me  into  the  land. 
As  if  I  had  never  been  such.* 

[Throws  up  a  scull. 


nothing  meet. ~\  Thus  the  folio.  The  quarto,  1604,  reads: 

O  me  thought  there  a  was  nothing  a  meet.     MALONE. 

The  original  poem  from  which  this  stanza  is  taken,  like  the 
other  succeeding  ones,  is  preserved  among  Lord  Surrey's  poems ; 
though,  as  Dr.  Percy  has  observed,  it  is  attributed  to  Lord  Vaux 
by  George  Gascoigne.  See  an  epistle  prefixed  to  one  of  his 
poems,  printed  with  the  rest  of  his  works,  1575.  By  others  it 
is  supposed  to  have  been  written  by  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt : 
"  I  lothe  that  I  did  love ; 

"  In  youth  that  I  thought  swete  : 
"  As  time  requires  for  my  behove, 
"  Methinks  they  are  not  mete." 

All  these  difficulties,  however,  (says  the  Rev.  Thomas  Warton, 
History  of  English  Poetry,  Vol.  III.  p.  45,)  are  at  once  adjusted 
by  MS.  Harl.  1703,  25,  in  the  British  Museum,  in  which  we 
have  a  copy  of  Vaux's  poem,  beginning,  /  lothe  that  I  did  love, 
with  the  title,  "  A  dyttie  or  sonet  made  by  the  lord  Vaus,  in  the 
time  of  the  noble  quene  Marye,  representing  the  image  of  death." 
The  entire  Song  is  published  by  Dr.  Percy,  in  the  first  volume 
of  his  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry.  STEEVENS. 

9  As  if  I  had  never  been  such.~]     Thus,  in  the  original: 
"  For  age  with  stealing  steps 

*'  Hath  claude  me  with  his  crowch ; 
"•  And  lusty  youthe  away  he  leapes, 

"  As  there  had  bene  none  such."    STEEVENS. 


K..I.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  325 

HAM.  That  scull  had  a  tongue  in  it,  and  could 
sing  once :  How  the  knave  jowls  it  to  the  ground, 
as  if  it  were  Cain's  jaw-bone,  that  did  the  first 
murder !  This  might  be  the  pate  of  a  politician, 
which  this  ass  now  o'er-reaches  ;*  one  that  would 
circumvent  God,  might  it  not  ? 

HOR.  It  might,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Or  of  a  courtier  ;  which  could  say,  Good- 
morrow,  sweet  lord!  How  dost  thou,  good  lord? 
This  might  be  my  lord  such-a-one,  that  praised  my 
lord  such-a-one's  horse,  when  he  meant  to  beg  it;2 
might  it  not  ? 

HOR.  Ay,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Why, e'en  so :  and  now  my  lady  Worm's; 3 
chapless,  and  knocked  about  the  mazzard  with  a 
sexton's  spade  :  Here's  fine  revolution,  an  we  had 
the  trick  to  see't.  Did  these  bones  cost  no  more 

1 which  this  ass  now  o'er-reaches ;]     The  folio  reads — 

o'er-offices.     STEEVENS. 

In  the  quarto,  [16041]  for  over-offices  is  over-reaches,  which 
agrees  better  with  the  sentence  :  it  is  a  strong  exaggeration  to 
remark,  that  an  ass  can  over-reach  him  who  would  once  have 
tried  to  circumvent — .  I  believe,  both  these  words  were  Shak- 
speare's.  An  author  in  revising  his  work,  when  his  original 
ideas  have  faded  from  his  mind,  and  new  observations  have  pro- 
duced new  sentiments,  easily  introduces  images  which  have  been 
more  newly  impressed  upon  him,  without  observing  their  want 
of  congruity  to  the  general  texture  of  his  original  design. 

JOHNSON. 

1  This  might  be  my  lord  such-a-one,  that  praised  my  lord  such- 
a-one1  s  horset  "when  he  meant  to  beg  it  y]  So,  in  Timon  of 
^Athens,  Act  I: 

" my  lord,  you  gave 

"  Good  words  the  other  day  of  a  bay  courser 
"  I  rode  on ;  it  is  yours,  because  you  lik'd  it." 

STEEVENS. 

— —  and  now  my  lady  Worm's  ;~]  The  scull  that  was  my 
lord  Such-a-one's,  is  now  my  lady  Worm's.  JOHNSON. 


S26  HAMLET,  ACT  p. 

the  breeding,  but  to  play  at  loggats  with  them  ?* 

mine  ache  to  think  on't. 

1  CLO.  A  pick-axe,  and  a  spade,  a  spade,     [Sings, 

For — and  a  shrouding  sheet  : 
O,  a  pit  of  clay  for  to  be  made 
For  such  a  guest  is  meet.* 

[Throws  up  a  scull. 

4 to  play  at  loggats  uith  them  ?]     This  is  a  game  played 

in  several  parts  of  England  even  at  this  time,  A  stake  is  fixed 
into  the  ground ;  those  who  play,  throw  loggats  at  it,  and  he 
that  is  nearest  the  stake,  wins :  I  have  seen  it  played  in  different 
counties  at  their  sheep-shearing  feasts,  where  the  winner  was  en- 
titled to  a  black  fleece,  which  he  afterwards  presented  to  the 
farmer's  maid  to  spin  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  petticoat,  and 
on  condition  that  she  knelt  down  on  the  fleece  to  be  kissed  by 
all  the  rusticks  present. 

So,  Ben  Jonson,  Tale  of  a  Tub,  Act  IV.  sc.  vi : 
**  Now  are  they  tossing  of  his  legs  and  arms, 
"  Like  loggats  at  a  pear-tree." 
Again,  in  an  old  collection  of  Epigrams,  Satires,  &c. 

"  To  play  at  loggats,  nine  holes,  or  ten  pinnes." 
Again,  in  Decker's  If  this  be  not  a  good  Play,  the  Devil  is  in  itt 
1612: 

" two  hundred  crowns ! 

"  I've  lost  as  much  at  loggats." 

It  is  one  of  the  unlawful  games  enumerated  in  the  statute  of 
S3  of  Henry  VIII.  STEEVENS. 

Loggeting  in  the  fields  is  mentioned  for  the  first  time  among 
other  "  new  and  crafty  games  and  plays,"  in  the  statute  of  33 
Henry  VIII.  c.  9.  Not  being  mentioned  in  former  acts  against 
unlawful  games,  it  was  probably  not  practised  long  before  the 
statute  of  Henry  the  Eighth  was  made.  M  ALONE. 

A  loggat-ground,  like  a  skittle-ground,  is  strewed  with  ashes, 
but  is  more  extensive.  A  bowl  much  larger  than  the  jack  of  the 
game  of  bowls  is  thrown  first.  The  pins,  which  I  believe  are 
called  loggats,  are  much  thinner,  and  lighter  at  one  extremity 
than  the  other.  The  bowl  bein«.r  first  thrown,  the  players  take 
the  pins  up  by  the  thinner  and  lighter  end,  and  fling  them  to- 
wards the  bowl,  and  in  such  a  manner  that  the  pins  may  once 
turn  round  in  the  air,  and  slide  with  the  thinner  extremity  fore- 
most towards  the  bowl.  The  pins  are  about  one  or  two-and-. 
twenty  inches  long.  BU>UNT. 


ec.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          327 

HAM.  There's  another :  Why  may  not  that  be 
the  scull  of  a  lawyer  ?  Where  be  his  quiddits6  now, 
his  quillets,7  his  cases,  his  tenures,  and  his  tricks  ? 
why  does  he  suffer  this  rude  knave  now  to  knock 
him  about  the  sconce8  with  a  dirty  shovel,  and 
will  not  tell  him  of  his  action  of  battery  ?  Humph! 
This  fellow  might  be  in's  time  a  great  buyer  of 
land,  with  his  statutes,9  his  recognizances,  his  fines, 

*  For  such  a  guest  is  meet.']     Thus  in  the  original : 
A  pick-axe  and  a  spade, 

And  eke  a  shrouding  sheet; 
A  house  of  clay  for  to  be  madet 

For  such  a  guest  most  meet.     STEEVENS. 

c  quiddits  &c.]     i.  e.  subtilties.     So,  in   Soliman  and 

Perseda  : 

"  I  am  wise,  but  quiddits  will  not  answer  death." 

STEEVJENS. 
Again,  in  Dray  ton's  Otvle,  4to.  1604- : 

"  By  some  strange  quiddit,  or  some  wrested  clause, 
"  To  find  him  guiltie  of  the  breach  of  lawes." 

MALONE. 

7 his  quillets,]     So,  in  Ram- Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks, 

1611: 

"  Nay,  good  Sir  Throat,  forbear  your  quillets  now." 

STEEVENS. 

Quillets  are  nice  and  frivolous  distinctions.      The  word  is  ren- 
dered by  Cole,  in  his  Latin  Dictionary,  1679,  resfrivola. 

MALONE. 

8 the  sconce — ]     i.  e.  the  head.     So,  in  Lyly's  Mother 

Bombie,  1594* : 

"  Laudo  ingenium ;  I  like  thy  sconce." 
Again,  in  Ram- Alley,  or  Merry  Tricks,  1611: 
«  __— .«______  I  say  no  more  ; 

"  But  'tis  within  this  sconce  to  go  beyond  them." 

STEEVENS. 
See  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  I.  sc.  iv.  Vol.  XX.     MALONE. 

9 his  statutes,]     By  a  statute  is  here  meant,  not  an  act 

of  parliament,  but  a  species  of  security  for  money,  affecting  real 
property ;  whereby  the  lands  of  the  debtor  are  conveyed  to  the 
creditor,  till  out  of  the  rents  and  profits  of  them  his  debt  may 
be  satisfied.  MALONE. 


S28  HAMLET,  ACT r. 

his  double  vouchers,1  his  recoveries:  Is  this  the 
fine  of  his  fines,  and  the  recovery  of  his  recoveries,2 
to  have  his  fine  pate  full  of  fine  dirt  ?  will  his 
vouchers  vouch  him  no  more  of  his  purchases,  and 
double  ones  too,  than  the  length  and  breadth  of  a 
pair  of  indentures  ?  The  very  conveyances  of  his 
lands  will  hardly  lie  in  this  box  ;  and  must  the  in* 
heritor  himself  have  no  more  ?  ha  ? 

HOR.  Not  a  jot  more,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Is  not  parchment  made  of  sheep-skins  ? 

HOR.  Ay,  my  lord,  and  of  calves-skins  too. 

HAM.  They  are  sheep,  and  calves,  which  seek 
out  assurance  in  that.3  I  will  speak  to  this  fellow ; 
— Whose  grave's  this,  sirrah  ? 

1  CLO.  Mine,  sir. — • 


0,  a  pit  of  clay  for  to  be  made  [Sings, 

For  such  a  guest  is  meet. 


1 his   double  vouchers,  8?c.~]     A  recovery  with  double 

voucher  is  the  one  usually  suffered,  and  is  so  denominated  from 
tiioo  persons  (the  latter  of  whom  is  always  the  common  cryer, 
or  some  such  inferior  person,)  being  successively  voucher,  or 
called  upon,  to  warrant  the  tenant's  title.  Bothjines  and  reco- 
veries are  fictions  of  law,  used  to  convert  an  estate  tail  into  a  fee 
simple.  Statutes  are  ^not  acts  of  parliament,  but)  statutes-mer- 
chant and  staple,  particular  modes  of  recognizance  or  acknow- 
ledgment for  securing  debts,  which  thereby  become  a  charge 
upon  the  party's  land.  Statutes  and  recognizances  are  constantly 
mentioned  together  in  the  covenants  of  a  purchase  deed. 

RITSON. 

*  Is  this  the  fine  ofhisjlnes,  and  the  recovery  of  his  recoveries,] 
Omitted  in  the  quartos.     STEEVENS. 

—  assurance  in  that."]  A  quibble  is  intended.  Deeds, 
which  are  usually  written  on  parchment,  are  called  the  common 
assurances  of  the  kingdom.  MALONE. 


ao,  i.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  S29 

HAM.  I  think  it  be  thine,  indeed ;  for  thou  liest 
in't. 

1  CLO.  You  lie  out  on't,  sir,  and  therefore  it  is 
not  yours  :  for  my  part,  I  do  not  lie  in't,  yet  it  is 
mine. 

HAM.  Thou  dost  lie  in't,  to  be  in't,  and  say  it 
is  thine :  'tis  for  the  dead,  not  for  the  quick ; 
therefore  thou  liest. 

1  CLO.  'Tis  a  quick  lie,  sir ;  'twill  away  again, 
from  me  to  you, 

HAM.  What  man  dost  thou  dig  it  for  ? 

1  CLO.   For  no  man,  sir. 

HAM.  What  woman  then  ? 

1  CLO.  For  none  neither. 

HAM.  Who  is  to  be  buried  in't  ? 

1  CLO.  One,  that  was  a  woman,  sir ;  but,  rest 
her  soul,  she's  dead. 

HAM.  How  absolute  the  knave  is  !  we  must  speak 
by  the  card,4  or  equivocation  will  undo  us.  By 

4 by  the  card,]  The  card  is  the  paper  on  which  the  dif- 
ferent points  of  the  compass  were  described.  To  do  any  tiling 
by  the  card,  is,  to  do  it  ivith  nice  observation.  JOHNSON. 

The  card  is  a  sea-chart,  still  so  termed  by  mariners :  and  the 
word  is  afterwards  used  by  Osric  in  the  same  sense.  Hamlet's 
meaning  will  therefore  be,  we  must  speak  directly  forward  in  a 
straight  line,  plainly  to  the  point.  RITSON. 

So,  in  Macbeth : 

"  And  the  very  ports  they  blow,  &c. 
"  In  the  shipman's  card."     STKEVENS. 

by  the  card,]  i.  e.  we  must  speak  with  the  same  precision 

and  accuracy  as  is  observed  in  marking  the  true  distances  of 
coasts,  the  heights,  courses,  &c.  in  a  sea-chart,  which  in  our 
poet's  time  was  called  a  card.  So,  in  The  Commonwealth  and 
Government  of  Venice,  4to.  1599,  p.  177 :  "  Sebastian  Munster 
in  his  cards  of  Venice — ."  Again,  in  Bacon's  Essays,  p.  326, 


330  HAMLET,  Acrr. 

the  lord,  Horatio,  these  three  years  I  have  taken 
note  of  it ;  the  age  is  grown  so  picked,5  that  the 
toe  of  the  peasant  comes  so  near  the  heel  of  the 
courtier,  he  galls  his  kibe.  —  How  long  hast  thou 
been  a  grave-maker  ? 


edit.  174O  :  "  Let  him  carry  with  him  also  some  card,  or  book, 
describing  the  country  where  he  travelleth."  In  1589  was  pub- 
lished in  4to.  A  bricfe  Discourse  o/'Mappes  and  Gardes,  and  of 
their  Uses.  —  The  "  shipman's  card"  in  Macbeth,  is  the  paper 
on  which  the  different  points  of  the  compass  are  described. 

MALONE. 

In  every  ancient  Ben-chart  that  I  have  seen,  the  compass,  &c. 
was  likewise  introduced.  STEEVENS. 

4 the  age  is  grown  so  picked, ~]     So  smart,  so  sharp,  say* 

Sir  T.  Hanmer,  very  properly ;  but  there  was,  I  think,  about 
that  time,  a  picked  shoe,  that  is,  a  shoe  with  a  long  pointed  toe, 
in  fashion,  to  which  the  allusion  seems  likewise  to  be  made. 
Every  man  now  is  smart;  and  every  man  now  is  a  man  ofj'a- 
shion.  JOHNSON. 

This  fashion  of  wearing  shoes  with  long  pointed  toes  wan 
carried  to  such  excess  in  England,  that  it  was  restrained  at  last 
by  proclamation  so  long  ago  as  the  fifth  year  of  Edward  IV. 
when  it  was  ordered,  "  that  the  beaks  or  pykes  of  shoes  and 
boots  should  not  pass  two  inches,  upon  pain  of  cursing  by  the 
clergy,  and  forfeiting  twenty  shillings,  to  be  paid,  one  noble  to 
the  king,  another  to  the  cordwainers  of  London,  and  the  third 
to  the  chamber  of  London:" — and  for  other  countries  and  towns 
the  like  order  was  taken. —  Before  this  time,  and  since  the  year 
1462,  the  pykes  of  shoes  and  boots  were  of  such  length,  that 
they  were  fain  to  be  tied  up  to  the  knee  with  chains  of  silver, 
and  gilt,  or  at  least  silken  laces.  STEEVENS. 

the  age  is  grown  so  picked,]  i.  e.  so  spruce,  so  quaint, 

«o  affected.  See  Vol.  VII.  p.  133,  n.  1 ;  and  Vol.  X.  p.  360,  n.  8. 

There  is,  I  think,  no  allusion  to  picked  or  pointed  shoes,  as 
has  been  supposed.  Picked  was  a  common  word  of  Shakspeare's 
age,  in  the  sense  above  given,  and  is  found  in  Minsheu's  Dic- 
tionary, 1617,  with  its  original  signification :  "  Trimm'd  or  drest 
sprucely."  It  is  here  used  metaphorically.  MA  LONE. 

I  should  have  concurred  with  Mr.  Malone  in  giving  a  general 
sense  to  the  epithet — picked,  but  for  Hamlet's  mention  of  the 
toe  of  the  peasant,  &c.  STEBVENS. 


*e.  jr.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          SSI 

1  CLO.  Of  all  the  days  i'the  year,  I  came  to't 
that  day  that  our  last  king  Hamlet  overcame  For- 
tinbras. 

HAM.  How  long's  that  since  ? 

1  do.  Cannot  you  tell  that  ?  every  fool  can  tell 
that :  It  was  that  very  day  that  young  Hamlet  was 
born  ;6  he  that  is  mad,  and  sent  into  England. 

HAM.  Ay,  marry,  why  was  he  sent  into  Eng- 
land ? 

1  CLO.  Why,  because  he  was  mad :  he  shall  re- 
cover his  wits  there  ;  or,  if  he  do  not,  'tis  no  great 
matter  there. 

HAM.  Why? 

1  CLO.  'Twill  not  be  seen  in  him  there ;  there 
the  men  are  as  mad  as  he.7 

HAM.  How  came  he  mad  ? 

1  CLO.  Very  strangely,  they  say. 

HAM.  How  strangely  ? 

l  CLO.  'Faith,  e'en  with  losing  his  wits. 

HAM.  Upon  what  ground  ? 

1  CLO.  Why,  here  in  Denmark;  I  have  been 
sexton  here,  man,  and  boy,  thirty  years. 

6 that  young  Hamlet  tuns  born.'']  By  this  scene  it  ap- 
pears that  Hamlet  was  then  thirty  years  old,  and  knew  Yorick 
well,  who  had  been  dead  twenty-two  years.  And  yet  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  play  he  is  spoken  of  as  a  very  young  man,  one 
that  designed  to  go  back  to  school,  i.  e.  to  the  University  of 
Wittenberg.  The  poet  in  the  fifth  Act  had  forgot  what  he  wrote 
in  the  first.  BLACKSTONE. 

7  'Twill  not  be  seen  in  him  there  ;  there  the  men  are  as  mad 
as  he.~\ 

"  Nimirum  insanus  paucis  videatur ;  eo  quod 

"  Maxima  pars  hominum  morbo  jactatur  eodem." 

Horace,  Sat.  L.  LL  iii.  120.     STEEVENS. 


S32  HAMLET,  ACT r. 

HAM.  How  long  will  a  man  lie  i'the  earth  ere 
he  rot  ? 

1  CLO.  'Faith,  if  he  be  not  rotten  before  he  die, 
(as  we  have  many  pocky  corses  now-a-days,8  that 
will  scarce  hold  the  laying  in,)  he  will  last  you 
some  eight  year,  or  nine  year  :  a  tanner  will  last 
you  nine  year. 

HAM.  Why  he  more  than  another  ? 

1  CLO.  Why,  sir,  his  hide  is  so  tanned  with  his 
trade,  that  he  will  keep  out  water  a  great  while ; 
and  your  water  is  a  sore  decayer  of  your  whoreson 
dead  body.  Here's  a  scull  now  hath  lain  you  i'the 
earth  three-and-twenty  years. 

HAM.  Whose  was  it  ? 

1  CLO.  A  whoreson  mad  fellow's  it  was ;  Whose 
do  you  think  it  was  ? 

HAM.  Nay,  I  know  not. 

1  CLO.  A  pestilence  on  him  for  a  mad  rogue  ! 
he  poured  a  flagon  of  Rhenish  on  my  head  once. 
This  same  scull,  sir,  was  Yorick's  scull,9  the  king's 
jester. 

HAM.  This  ?  [  Takes  the  Scull. 

1  CLO.  E'en  that. 

HAM.  Alas,  poor  Yorick  ! — I  knew  him,  Hora- 
tio ;  a  fellow  of  infinite  jest,  of  most  excellent 
fancy :  he  hath  borne  me  on  his  back  a  thousand 
times ;  and  now,  how  abhorred  in  my  imagination 
it  is  !  my  gorge  rises  at  it.  Here  hung  those  lips, 
that  I  have  kissed  I  know  not  how  oft.  Where  be 


* note  a-days,~\     Omitted  in  the  quarto.     M ALONE. 

9 Yorick's  scull,']     Thus  the  folio.     The  quarto  reads — 

Sir  Yorick's  scull.    MALONE. 


so.  /.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  333 

your  gibes  now  ?  your  gambols  ?  your  songs  ?  your 
flashes  of  merriment,  that  were  wont  to  set  the 
table  on  a  roar?  Not  one  now,  to  mock  your  own 
grinning  F1  quite  chap-fallen  ?  Now  get  you  to  my 
lady's  chamber,2  and  tell  her,  let  her  paint  an  inch 
thick,  to  this  favour3  she  must  come  ;  make  her 
laugh  at  that. — Pr'ythee,  Horatio,  tell  me  one 
thing. 

HOR.  What's  that,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Dost  thou  think,  Alexander  looked  o'this 
fashion  i'the  earth  ? 

HOR.  E'en  so. 

HAM.  And  smelt  so  ?  pah ! 

[Throws  down  the  Scull. 

HOR.  E'en  so,  my  lord. 

HAM.  To  what  base  uses  we  may  return,  Hora- 
tio !  Why  may  not  imagination  trace  the  noble  dust 
of  Alexander,  till  he  find  it  stopping  a  bung-hole  ? 

HOR.  'Twere  to  consider  too  curiously,  to  con- 
sider so. 

HAM.  No,  faith,  not  a  jot ;  but  to  follow  him 
thither  with  modesty  enough,  and  likelihood  to  lead 
it :  As  thus ;  Alexander  died,  Alexander  was  bu- 
ried, Alexander  returneth  to  dustj  the  dust  is  earth; 

1 your  oijon  grinning?]     Thus  the  quarto,  1604-.     The 

folio  reads — your  own  jeering  ?  In  that  copy,  after  this  word, 
and  chap-fallen,  there  is  a  note  of  interrogation,  which  all  the 
editors  have  adopted.  I  doubt  concerning  its  propriety. 

MALONE. 

* my  lady's  chamber,]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos 

read — my  lady's  table,  meaning,  I  suppose,  her  dressing-table. 

STEEVENS. 

1 to  this  favour — ]  i.  e.  to  this  countenance  or  com- 
plexion. See  Vol.  IV.  p.  329,  n.  4 ;  and  Vol.  XVI.  p.  284,  n.  5. 

MALONE. 


334-  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

of  earth  we  make  loam  :  And  why  of  that  loam, 

whereto  he  was  converted,  might  they  not  stop  a 

beer-barrel  ? 

Imperious  Caesar,4  dead,  and  turn'd  to  clay, 
Might  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away: 
O,  that  the  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
Should  patch  a  wall  to  expel  the  winter's  flaw  !5 

But  soft!  but  soft !  aside ; — Here  comes  the  king, 

Enter  Priests,  §c.  in  Procession  ;    the  Corpse  of 
OPHELIA,   LAERTES  and  Mourners  following ; 
King,  Queen,  their  Trains,  &c. 

The  queen,  the  courtiers:  Who  is  this  they  follow ? 
And  with  such  maimed  rites  !6  This  doth  betoken, 
The  corse,  they  follow,  did  with  desperate  hand 
Fordo  its  own  life.7    'Twas  of  some  estate  :* 

4  Imperious  C&sar,~\  Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  The  editor  of 
the  folio  substituted  imperial,  not  knowing  that  imperious  was 
used  in  the  same  sense.  See  Vol.  XV.  p.  4-16,  n.  8 ;  and  Cym- 
beline,  Act  IV.  »c.  ii.  There  are  other  instances  in  the  folio  of 
a  familiar  term  being  substituted  in  the  room  of  a  more  ancient 
word.  See  p.  335,  n.  3.  MALONE. 

* winter's  flaw !]  Winter's  blast.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Marius  and  Sylla,  1594- : 

" no  doubt,  this  stormy Jlatv, 

"  That  Neptune  sent  to  cast  us  on  this  shore." 
The  quartos  read — to  expel  the  -water's  flaw.     STEEVBNS. 

See  Vol.  XIII.  p.  875,  n.  9.  AJhtu  meant  a  sudden  gust  of 
wind.  So,  in  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary ,  1598 :  "  Groppo,  a 
Jfaw,  or  berrie  of  wind."  See  also,  Cotgrave's  Dictionary,  161 1 : 
"  Lis  de  vent,  a  gust  orjlaw  of  wind."  MALONE. 

G maimed  rites  /]  Imperfect  obsequies.    JOHNSON. 

7  Fordo  its  own  life.~\  Tto  fordo  is  to  undo, to  destroy.     So,  in 

t 

" this  is  the  night 

*'  That  either  makes  me,  or  fordoes  me  quite." 


sc.i.          PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          335 

Couch  we  a  while,  and  mark. 

[Retiring  with  HORATIO. 
LAER.  What  ceremony  else  ? 

HAM.  That  is  Laertes, 

A  very  noble  youth  :  Mark. 
LAER.  What  ceremony  else  ? 

1  PRIEST.^  Her  obsequies  have  been  as  far  en- 

,     larg'd 

As  we  have  warranty  r1  Her  death  was  doubtful; 
And,  but  that  great  command  o'ersways  the  order, 
She  should  in  ground  unsanctified  have  lodg'd 
Till  the  last  trumpet ;  for  charitable  prayers, 
Shards,2  flints,  and  pebbles,  should  be  thrown  on 

her, 
Yet  here  she  is  allow'd  her  virgin  crants,3 


Again,  in  Acolastus,  a  comedy,  1529 :  "  wolde  to  God 

it  might  be  leful  for  me  iofordoo  myself,  or  to  make  an  ende  of 
me."    STEEVENS. 

8 some  estate :]  Some  person  of  high  rank.    JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  XV.  p.  319,  n.  6.     MALONE. 

'  1  Priest.'}     This  Priest  in  the  old  quarto  is  called  Doctor. 

STEEVENS. 

1  Her  obsequies  have  been  as  far  enlarged 

As  we  have  warranty:]  Is  there  any  allusion  here  to  the 
coroner's  warrant,  directed  to  the  minister  and  church-wardens 
of  a  parish,  and  permitting  the  body  of  a  person,  who  comes  to 
an  untimely  end,  to  receive  Christian  burial  ?  WHALLEY. 

*  Shards,"}  i.  e.  broken  pots  or  tiles,  called  pot-sherds,  tile- 
sherds.  So,  in  Job,  ii.  8  :  "  And  he  took  him  a  potsherd,  (i.  e. 
a  piece  of  a  broken  pot,)  to  scrape  himself  withal."  RITSON. 

3 allow' 'd  her  virgin  crants,]     Evidently  corrupted  from 

chants,  which  is  the  true  word.     A  specific  rather  than  a  generic 
term  being  here  required  to  answer  to  maiden  stretxments. 

WARBURTON. 

allotrfd  her  virgin  crants,]      Thus  the   quarto,  1604. 

For  this  unusual  word  the  editor  of  the  first  folio  substituted 
rites.     By  a  more  attentive  examination  and  comparison  of  the 


536  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

Her  maiden  strewments,  and  the  bringing  home 
Of  bell  and  burial.4 

LAER.  Must  there  no  more  be  done  ? 

1  PRIEST.  No  more  be  done  ! 

We  should  profane  the  service  of  the  dead, 
To  sing  a  requiem^  and  such  rest  to  her 
As  to  peace-parted  souls. 

LAER.  Lay  her  i'the  earth  ; — 

And  from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh, 
May  violets  spring  !6 — I  tell  thee,  churlish  priest, 

quarto  copies  and  the  folio,  Dr.  Johnson,  I  have  no  doubt,  would 
have  been  convinced  that  this  and  many  other  changes  in  the 
folio  were  not  made  by  Shakspeare,  as  is  suggested  in  the  fol- 
lowing note.  MALONE. 

I  have  been  informed  by  an  anonymous  correspondent,  that 
crantsis  the  German  word  for  garlands,  and  I  suppose  it  was  re- 
tained by  us  from  the  Saxons.  To  carry  garlands  before  the 
bier  of  a  maiden,  and  to  hang  them  over  her  grave,  is  still  the 
practice  in  rural  parishes. 

Grants  therefore  was  the  original  word,  which  the  author,  dis- 
covering to  be  provincial,  and  perhaps  not  understood,  changed 
to  a  term  more  intelligible,  but  less  proper.  Maiden  rites  give 
no  certain  or  definitive  image.  He  might  have  put  maiden 
wreaths,  or  maiden  garlands,  but  he  perhaps  bestowed  no 
thought  upon  it ;  and  neither  genius  nor  practice  will  always 
supply  a  hasty  writer  with  the  most  proper  diction.  JOHNSON. 

In  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  see  Beades,  where  roosen  krants 
means  sertum  rosarium  ;  and  such  is  the  name  of  a  character  in 
this  play.  TOLLET. 

The  names — Rosenkrantz  and  Guldenstiern  occur  frequently 
in  Rostgaard's  Delicice  Poetarum  Danorum.  STEEVENS. 

4 bell  and  burial.]     Burial,  here  signifies  interment  in 

consecrated  ground.    WARBURTON. 

*  To  sing  a  requiem,]  A  requiem,  is  a  mass  performed  in 
Popish  churches  for  the  rest  of  the  soul  of  a  person  deceased. 
The  folio  reads — sing  sage  requiem.  STEEVENS. 

0 from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  jlesh 

May  violets  spring  /]     Thus,  Persius,  Sat.  I : 

** e  tumulo,  fortunataque  favilla, 

"  Nascentur  violae  ?"     STEEVENS. 


ac.  i.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  337 

4* 

A  ministering  angel  shall  my  sister  be, 
When  thou  liest  howling. 

HAM.  What,  the  fair  Ophelia ! 

QUEEN.  Sweets  to  the  sweet :  Farewell ! 

[Scattering  Flowers. 

I  hop'd,thou  should'st  havebeen  my  Hamlet's  wife; 
I  thought,  thy  bride-bed  to  have  deck'd,  sweet 

maid, 
And  not  have  strew* d  thy  grave. 

LAER.  O,  treble  woe 

Fall  ten  times  treble  on  that  cursed  head, 
Whose  wicked  deed  thy  most  ingenious  sense 
Deprived  thee  of! — Hold  oiFthe  earth  a  while, 
Till  I  have  caught  her  once  more  in  mine  arms : 

[Leaps  into  the  Grave. 

Now  pile  your  dust  upon  the  quick  and  dead ; 
Till  of  this  flat  a  mountain  you  have  made, 
To  o'er-top  old  Pelion,  or  the  skyish  head 
Of  blue  Olympus. 

HAM.  [Advancing."]  What  is  he,  whose  grief 
Bears  such  an  emphasis  ?  whose  phrase  of  sorrow 
Conjures  thewand'ring  stars,  and  makes  them  stand 
Like  wonder-wounded  hearers  ?  this  is  I, 
Hamlet  the  Dane.  [Leaps  into  the  Grave. 

LAER.  The  devil  take  thy  soul ! 

[Grappling  with  him. 

HAM.  Thou  pray'st  not  well. 
I  pr'ythee,  take  thy  fingers  from  my  throat ; 
For,  though  I  am  not  splenetive  and  rash, 
Yet  have  I  in  me  something  dangerous, 
Which  let  thy  wisdom  fear :  Hold  off  thy  hand. 

KING.  Pluck  them  asunder. 

QUEEN.  Hamlet,  Hamlet ! 

VOL.  xvm.  z 


3S8  HAMLET,  ACT  v. 

ALL?  Gentlemen, 

HOR.  Good  my  lord,  be  quiet. 

[  The  Attendants  part  them,  and  they  come  out 
of  the  Grave. 

HAM.    Why,  I  will  fight  with  him   upon  this 

theme, 
Until  my  eyelids  will  no  longer  wag. 

QUEEN.  O  my  son !  what  theme  ? 

HAM.  I  lov'd  Ophelia ;  forty  thousand  brothers 
Could  not,  with  all  their  quantity  of  love, 
Make  up  my  sum. — What  wilt  thou  do  for  her  ? 

KING.  O,  he  is  mad,  Laertes. 

QUEEN.  For  love  of  God,  forbear  him. 

HAM.  'Zounds,  show  me  what  thou'lt  do : 
Woul't  weep?   woul't  fight?  woul't  fast?  woul't 

tear  thyself? 
WouFt  drink  up  Esil  ?  eat  a  crocodile  ?3 

7  All.  &c.]  This  is  restored  from  the  quartos.     STEEVENS. 

*  JVoul't  drink  up  Esil?  eat  a  crocodile  ?~\  This  word  has 
through  all  the  editions  been  distinguished  by  Italick  characters, 
as  if  it  were  the  proper  name  of  some  river ;  and  so,  I  dare  say, 
all  the  editors  have  from  time  to  time  understood  it  to  be.  But 
then  this  must  be  some  river  in  Denmark ;  and  there  is  none 
there  so  called ;  nor  is  there  any  near  it  in  name,  that  I  know 
of,  but  Yssel,  from  which  the  province  of  Overyssel  derives  its 
title  in  the  German  Flanders.  Besides,  Hamlet  is  not  proposing 
any  impossibilities  to  Laertes,  as  the  drinking  up  a  river  would 
be :  but  he  rather  seems  to  mean, — Wilt  thou  resolve  to  do 
things  the  most  shocking  and  distasteful  to  human  nature ;  and, 
behold,  I  am  as  resolute.  I  am  persuaded  the  poet  wrote : 

"  Wilt  drink  up  Eisel  ?  eat  a  crocodile  ?" 

i.  e.  Wilt  thou  swallow  down  large  draughts  of  vinegar  ?  The 
proposition,  indeed,  is  not  very  grand :  but  the  doing  it  might  be 
as  distasteful  and  unsavoury  as  eating  the  flesh  of  a  crocodile, 
And  now  there  is  neither  an  impossibility,  nor  an  anticlimax  : 
and  the  lowness  of  the  idea  is  in  some  measure  removed  by  the 
uncommon  term.  THEOBALD. 


sc.  1.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  339 

I'll  do't. — Dost  thou  come  here  to  whine  ? 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  has, 

Wilt  drink  up  Nile  ?  or  eat  a  crocodile  ? 

Hamlet  certainly  meant  (for  he  says  he  will  rant)  to  dare 
Laertes  to  attempt  any  thing,  however  difficult  or  unnatural ; 
and  might  safely  promise  to  follow  the  example  his  antagonist 
was  to  set,  in  draining  the  channel  of  a  river,  or  trying  his  teeth 
on  an  animal  whose  scales  are  supposed  to  be  impenetrable.  Had 
Shakspeare  meant  to  make  Hamlet  say — Wilt  thou  drink  vine- 
gar? he  probably  would  not  have  used  the  term  drink  up; 
which  means,  totally  to  exhaust ;  neither  is  that  challenge  very 
magnificent,  which  only  provokes  an  adversary  to  hazard  a  fit  of 
the  heart-burn  or  the  colick. 

The  commentator's  Yssel  would  serve  Hamlet's  turn  or  mine. 
This  river  is  twice  mentioned  by  Stov/e,  p.  735 :  "  It  standeth 
a  good  distance  from  the  river  Issell,  but  hath  a  sconce  on  Issett 
of  incredible  strength." 

Again,  by  Drayton,  in  the  24th  Song  of  his  Polyolbion  : 

"  The  one  o'er  hell's  banks  the  ancient  Saxons  taught ; 

"  At  Over-hell  rests,  the  other  did  apply: — ." 
And  in  King  Richard  II.  a  thought,  in  part  the  same,  occurs, 
Act  II.  sc.  ii : 

" the  task  he  undertakes 

"  Is  numb'ring  sands,  and  drinking  oceans  dry." 
But  in  an  old  Latin  account  of  Denmark  and  the  neighbouring 
provinces,  I  find  the  names  of  several  rivers  little  differing  from 
Esily  or  Eisell,  in  spelling  or  pronunciation.  Such  are  the  Essa, 
the  Oesil,  and  some  others.  The  word,  like  many  more,  may 
indeed  be  irrecoverably  corrupted;  but,  I  must  add,  that  few 
authors  later  than  Chaucer  or  Skelton  made  use  of  eysel  for  vine- 
gar: nor  has  Shakspeare  employed  it  in  any  other  of  his  plays. 
The  poet  might  have  written  the  Weisel,  a  considerable  river 
which  falls  into  the  Baltick  ocean,  and  could  not  be  unknown  to 
any  prince  of  Denmark.  STEEVENS. 

Woul't  is  a  contraction  of  ivouldest,  [wouldest  thou]  and  per- 
haps ought  rather  to  be  written  tuoul'st.  The  quarto,  1604,  has 
esil.  In  the  folio  the  word  is  spelt  esile.  Eisil  or  eisel  is  vinegar. 
The  word  is  used  by  Chaucer,  and  Skelton,  and  Sir  Thomas 
More,  Works,  p.  21,  edit.  1557: 

" with  sowre  pocion 

'<  If  thou  paine  thy  tast,  remember  therewithal 
"  How  Christ  for  thee  tasted  eisil  and  gall." 

Z  2 


340  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

To  outface  me  with  leaping  in  her  grave  ? 

The  word  is  also  found  in  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  1617,  and 
in  Cole's  Latin  Dictionary,  1679. 

Our  poet,  as  Dr.  Farmer  has  observed,  has  again  employed 
the  same  word  in  his  lllth  Sonnet: 

** like  a  Avilling  patient  I  will  drink 

"  Potions  of  cysell  'gainst  my  strong  infection  ; 

"  No  bitterness  that  I  will  bitter  think, 

"  Nor  double  penance,  to  correct  correction." 
Mr.  Steevens  supposes,  that  a  river  was  meant,  either  the 
Yssel,  or  Oesil,  or  Weisel,  a  considerable  river  which  falls  into 
the  Baltick  ocean.  The  words,  drink  up,  he  considers  as  fa- 
vourable to  his  notion.  "  Had  Shakspeare  (he  observes,)  meant 
to  make  Hamlet  say,  Wilt  thou  drink  vinegar?  he  probably 
would  not  have  used  the  term  drink  up,  which  means,  totally  to 
exhaust.  In  King  Richard  II.  Act  II.  sc.  ii.  (he  adds)  a  thought 
m  part  the  same  occurs : 

"  —  —  the  task  he  undertakes, 

"  Is  numb'ring  sands,  and  drinking  oceans  dry." 
But  I  must  remark,  in  that  passage  evidently  impossibilities  are 
pointed  out.  Hamlet  is  only  talking  of  difficult  or  painful  exer- 
tions. Every  man  can  weep,  fight,  fast,  tear  himself,  drink  a 
potion  of  vinegar,  and  eat  a  piece  of  a  dissected  crocodile,  how- 
ever disagreeable ;  for  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  poet  uses  the 
words  eat  a  crocodile,  for  eat  of  a  crocodile.  We  yet  use  the 
same  phraseology  in  familiar  language. 

On  the  phrase  drink  up  no  stress  can  be  laid,  for  our  poet  has 
employed  the  same  expression  in  his  114th  Sonnet,  without  any 
idea  of  entirely  exhausting,  and  merely  as  synonymous  to  drink: 

"  Or  whether  doth  my  mind,  being  crown'd  with  you, 

*'  Drink  up  the  monarch's  plague,  this  flattery?" 
Again,  in  the  same  Sonnet : 

" 'tis  flattery  in  my  seeing, 

"  And  my  great  mind  most  kingly  drinks  it  «p." 
Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens: 

"  And  how  his  silence  drinks  up  his  applause." 
In  Shakspeare's  time,  as  at  present,  to  drink  up,  often  meant 
no  more  than  simply  to  drink.  So,  in  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary, 
1598:  "  Sorbire,  to  sip  or  sup  up  any  drink."  In  like  manner 
we  sometimes  say,  "  when  you  have  swallowed  down  this  potion," 
though  we  mean  no  more  than— when  you  have  swallowed  this 
potion.  MALONE. 

Mr.  Malone'i  strictures  are  undoubtedly  acute,  and  though 


sc.  /.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  341 

Be  buried  quick  with  her,  and  so  will  I : 
And,  if  thou  prate  of  mountains,  let  them  throw 
Millions  of  acres  on  us ;  till  our  ground, 
Singeing  his  pate  against  the  burning  zone, 
Make  Ossa  like  a  wart !    Nay,  an  thou'lt  mouth, 
I'll  rant  as  well  as  thou. 

QUEEN.  This  is  mere  madness  :9 

And  thus  a  while  the  fit  will  work  on  him ; 
Anon,  as  patient  as  the  female  dove, 
When  that  her  golden  couplets  are  disclos'd,1 

not,  in  my  own  opinion,  decisive,  may  still  be  just.  Yet,  as  I 
cannot  reconcile  myself  to  the  idea  of  a  prince's  challenging  a 
nobleman  to  drink  what  Mrs.  Quickly  has  called  "  a  mess  of 
vinegar,"  I  have  neither  changed  our  former  text,  nor  with- 
drawn my  original  remarks  on  it,  notwithstanding  they  are  al- 
most recapitulated  in  those  of  my  opponent. — On  the  score  of 
such  redundancy,  however,  I  both  need  and  solicit  the  indul- 
gence of  the  reader.  STEEVENS. 

6  This  is  mere  madness :]  This  speech  in  the  first  folio  is  given 
to  the  King.  MALONE. 

1  When  that  her  golden  couplets  are  disclos'd,]  To  disclose 
was  anciently  used  for  to  hatch.  So,  in  The  Booke  of  Huntynge, 
Haivkyng,  Fyshing,  &c.  bl.  1.  no  date :  "  First  they  ben  eges ; 
and  after  they  ben  disclosed,  haukes ;  and  commonly  goshaukes 
ben  disclosed  as  sone  as  the  choughes."  To  exclude  is  the  tech- 
nical term  at  present.  During  three  days  after  the  pigeon  has 
hatched  her  couplets,  (for  she  lays  no  more  than  tivo  eggs,)  she 
never  quits  her  nest,  except  for  a  few  moments  in  quest  of  a 
little  food  for  herself;  as  all  her  young  require  in  that  early 
state,  is  to  be  kept  warm,  an  office  which  she  never  entrusts  to 
the  male.  STEEVENS. 

The  young  nestlings  of  the  pigeon,  when  first  disclosed,  are 
callow,  only  covered  with  a  yellow  down :  and  for  that  reason 
stand  in  need  of  being  cherished  by  the  warmth  of  the  hen,  to 
protect  them  from  the  chillness  of  the  ambient  air,  for  a  consi- 
derable time  after  they  are  hatched.  HEATH. 

The  word  disclose  has  already  occurred  in  a  sense  nearly  allied 
to  hatch,  in  this  play : 

"  And  I  do  doubt,  the  hatch  and  the  disclose 
"  Will  be  some  danger."     MALONE. 


342  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

His  silence  will  sit  drooping. 

HAM.  Hear  you,  sir  j 

What  is  the  reason  that  you  use  me  thus  ? 
I  lov'd  you  ever  :2  But  it  is  no  matter ; 
Let  Hercules  himself  do  what  he  may, 
The  cat  will  mew,  and  dog  will  have  his  day. 

[Exit. 

KING.  I  pray  thee,  good  Horatio,  wait  upon 

him. —  [Exit  HORATIO. 

Strengthen  your  patience  in  our  last  night's  speech ; 

[To  LAERTES, 

We'll  put  the  matter  to  the  present  push. — 
Good  Gertrude,  set  some  watch  over  your  son.— 
This  grave  shall  have  a  living  monument : 
An  hour  of  quiet  shortly3  shall  we  see ; 
Till  then,  in  patience  our  proceeding  be. 

[Exeunt. 


*  What  is  the  reason  that  you  use  me  thus  ? 

I  lov'd  you  ever:]    So,  in  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dreamt 
Helena  says  to  her  rival — 

'* do  not  be  so  bitter  with  me, 

"  /  evermore  did  love  you,  Hermia."     STEEVENS. 

*  shortly — ]  The  first  quarto  erroneously  reads — thirty, 

The  second  and  third — thereby.      The  folio — shortly. 

STEEVENS, 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  34S 

SCENE  II. 

A  Hall  in  the  Castle. 
Enter  HAMLET  and  HORATIO. 

HAM.  So  much  for  this,  sir  :  now  shall  you  see 

the  other  ;  — 

You  do  remember  all  the  circumstance  ? 
Hon.  Remember  it,  my  lord  ! 
HAM.  Sir,  in  my  heart  there  was  a  kind  of  fight- 

ing* 
That  would  not  let  me  sleep:4  methought,  I  lay 


*  Sir,  in  my  heart  there  ivas  a  kind  of  fig 

That  "would  not  let  me  sleep  :  &c.]      So,  in  Troilus  and 
Cressida  : 

"  Within  my  soul  there  doth  commence  a  fight, 
"  Of  this  strange  nature,"  &c. 

The  Hystorie  of  Hamblet,  bl.  1.  furnished  our  author  with  the 
scheme  of  sending  the  Prince  to  England,  and  with  most  of  the 
circumstances  described  in  this  scene  : 

[After  the  death  of  Polonius]  "  Fengon  [the  King  in  the 
present  play]  could  not  content  himselfe,  but  still  his  mind  gave 
him  that  the  foole  [Hamlet]  would  play  him  some  trick  of  leger- 
demaine.  And  in  that  conceit,  seeking  to  bee  rid  of  him,  de- 
termined to  find  the  meanes  to  doe  it  by  the  aid  of  a  stranger, 
making  the  king  of  England  minister  of  his  massacrous  resolu- 
tion ;  to  whom  he  purposed  to  send  him,  and  by  letters  desire 
him  to  put  him  to  death. 

"  Now  to  beare  him  company,  were  assigned  two  of  Fengon's 
faithful  ministers,  bearing  letters  ingraved  in  wood,  that  con- 
tained Hamlet's  death,  in  such  sort  as  he  had  advertised  the  king 
of  England.  But  the  subtil  Danish  prince,  (being  at  sea,)  whilst 
his  companions  slept,  having  read  the  letters,  and  knowing  his 
uncle's  great  treason,  with  the  wicked  and  villainous  mindes  of 
the  two  courtiers  that  led  him  to  the  slaughter,  raced  out  the 
letters  that  concerned  his  death,  and  instead  thereof  graved 


344  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

Worse  than  the  mutines  in  the  bilboes.5     Rashly, 

others,  with  commission  to  the  king  of  England  to  hang  his  two 
companions ;  and  not  content  to  turn  the  death  they  had  devised 
against  him,  upon  their  own  neckes,  wrote  further,  that  king 
Fengon  willed  him  to  give  his  daughter  to  Hamblet  in  marriage." 
Hyst.  qfHambkt,  signal.  G  2. 

From  this  narrative  jt  appears  that  the  faithful  ministers  of 
Fengon  were  not  unacquainted  with  the  import  of  the  letters 
they  bore.  Shakspeare,  who  has  followed  the  story  pretty 
closely,  probably  meant  to  describe  their  representatives,  Ilo- 
sencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  as  equally  guilty;  as  confederating 
with  the  King  to  deprive  Hamlet  of  his  life.  So  that  his  pro- 
curing their  execution,  though  certainly  not  absolutely  necessary 
to  his  own  safety,  does  not  appear  to  have  been  a  wanton  and 
unprovoked  cruelty,  as  Mr.  Steevens  has  supposed  in  his  very 
ingenious  observations  on  the  general  character  and  conduct  of 
the  prince  throughout  this  piece. 

In  the  conclusion  of  his  drama  the  poet  has  entirely  deviated 
from  the  fabulous  history,  which  in  other  places  he  has  fre- 
quently followed. 

After  Hamblet's  arrival  in  England,  (for  no  sea-fight  is  men- 
tioned,) "  the  king,  (says  The  Hystory  of  Hamblet,)  admiring 
the  young  prince, — gave  him  his  daughter  in  marriage,  accord-, 
ing  to  the  counterfeit  letters  by  him  devised ;  and  the  next  day 
caused  the  two  servants  of  Fengon  to  be  executed,  to  satisfy,  as 
he  thought,  the  king's  desire."  Hyst.  of  Hamb.  Ibid. 

Hamlet,  however,  returned  to  Denmark,  without  marrying 
the  king  of  England's  daughter,  who,  it  should  seem,  had  only 
been  betrothed  to  him.  When  he  arrived  in  his  native  country, 
he  made  the  courtiers  drunk,  and  having  burnt  them  to  death, 
by  setting  fire  to  the  banqueting-room  wherein  they  sat,  he  went 
into  Fengon's  chamber,  and  killed  him,  "  giving  him  (says  the 
relater)  such  a  violent  blowe  upon  the  chine  of  the  neck,  that 
he  cut  his  head  clean  from  the  shoulders."  Ibid,  signal.  F  3. 

He  is  afterwards  said  to  have  been  crowned  king  of  Denmark. 

MALONE. 

I  apprehend  that  a  critick  and  a  juryman  are  bound  to  form 
their  opinions  on  what  they  see  and  hear  in  the  cause  before  them, 
and  not  to  be  influenced  by  extraneous  particulars  unsupported 
by  legal  evidence  in  open  court.  I  persist  in  observing,  that  from 
Shakspeare's  drama  no  proofs  of  the  guilt  of  Rosencrantz  and 
Guildenstern  can  be  collected.  They  may  be  convicted  by  the 
black  letter  history ;  but  if  the  tragedy  forbears  to  criminate,  it 
has  no  right  to  sentence  them.  This  is  sufficient  for  the  common- 


SB.-II.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  345 

And  prais'd  be  rashness  for  it, — Let  us  know, 

tator's  purpose.  It  is  not  his  office  to  interpret  the  plays  of Shak- 
speare  according  to  the  novels  on  which  they  are  founded,  novels 
which  the  poet  sometimes  followed,  but  as  often  materially  de- 
serted. Perhaps  he  never  confined  himself  strictly  to  the  plan  of 
any  one  of  his  originals.  His  negligence  of  poetick  justice  is 
notorious ;  nor  can  we  expect  that  he  who  was  content  to  sa- 
crifice the  pious  Ophelia,  should  have  been  more  scrupulous 
about  the  worthless  lives  of  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern. 
Therefore,  I  still  assert  that,  in  the  tragedy  before  us,  their 
deaths  appear  both  wanton  and  unprovoked ;  and  the  critick, 
like  Bayes,  must  have  recourse  to  somewhat  long  before  the  begin- 
ning of  this  play,  to  justify  the  conduct  of  its  hero.  STEEVENS. 

6 . mutines  in  the  bilboes."]     Mutines,  the  French  word  for 

seditious  or  disobedient  fellows  in  the  army  or  fleet.  Bilboes, 
the  ship's  prison.  JOHNSON. 

To  mutine  was  formerly  used  for  to  mutiny.  See  p.  245,  n.  6. 
So  mutine,  for  mutiner,  or  mutineer :  "  un  homme  mutin,"  Fr. 
a  mutinous  or  seditious  person.  In  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur , 
a  tragedy,  1587,  the  adjective  is  used: 

"  Suppresseth  mutin  force,  and  practicke  fraud." 

MA  LONE. 

The  bilboes  is  a  bar  of  iron  with  fetters  annexed  to  it,  by  which 
mutinous  or  disorderly  sailors  were  anciently  linked  together. 
The  word  is  derived  from  Bilboa,  a  place  in  Spain  where  instru- 
ments of  steel  were  fabricated  in  the  utmost  perfection.  To  un- 
derstand Shakspeare's  allusion  completely,  it  should  be  known, 
that  as  these  fetters  connect  the  legs  of  the  offenders  very  close 
together,  their  attempts  to  rest  must  be  as  fruitless  as  those  of 
Hamlet,  in  whose  mind  there  was  a  kind  of  fighting  that  would 
not  let  him  sleep.  Every  motion  of  one  must  disturb  his  partner 
in  confinement.  The  bilboes  are  still  shown  in  the  Tower  of 
London,  among  the  other  spoils  of  the  Spanish  Armada.  The 
following  is  the  figure  of  them  : 


STEEVENS. 


846  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

Our  indiscretion  sometimes  serves  us  well, 
When6  our  deep  plots  do  pall  :7  and  that  should 

teach  us, 

There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will.8 


-Rashly, 


And  prais'd  be  rashness  for  it, — Let  us  know, 

Our  indiscretion  sometimes  serves  us  well, 

When  &c.]  Hamlet  delivering  an  account  of  his  escape, 

begins  with  saying — That  he  rashly ami  then  is  carried  into 

a  reflection  upon  the  weakness  of  human  wisdom.  I  rashly 

praised  be  rashness  for  it — Let  us  not  think  these  events  casual, 
out  let  us  know,  that  is,  take  notice  and  remember,  that  we  some- 
times succeed  by  indiscretion  when  we  fail  by  deep  plots,  and  in- 
fer the  perpetual  superintendance  and  agency  of  the  Divinity. 
The  observation  is  just,  and  will  be  allowed  by  every  human 
being,  who  shall  reflect  on  the  course  of  his  own  life.  JOHNSON. 

This  passage,  I  think,  should  be  thus  distributed : 

Rashly 

(And prais'd  be  rashness, for  it  lets  us  know, 
Our  indiscretion  sometimes  serves  us  well, 
When  our  deep  plots  do  Jail;  and  that  should  teach  us, 
There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  tcz//;— 
Hor.  That  is  most  certain.) 
Ham.   Up  from  my  cabin,  &c. 

So  that  rashly  may  be  joined  in  construction  with— in  the  dark 
grop'd  I  tojind  out  them.  TYRWHITT. 

7  When  our  deep  plots  do  pall :]  Thus  the  first  quarto,  1604-. 
The  editor  of  the  next  quarto,  for  pall,  substituted  foil.  The 
folio  reads, — 

When  our  dear  plots  do  paule. 
Mr.  Pope  and  the  subsequent  editors  read, — 

When  our  deep  plots  do  fail : 

but  pall  and  fail  are  by  no  means  likely  to  have  been  confound- 
ed. I  have  therefore  adhered  to  the  old  copies.  In  Antony  and 
Cleopatra  our  poet  has  used  the  participle : 

"  I'll  never  follow  thy  pall' 'd  fortunes  more."   MALONE. 

Again,  in  one  of  Barnaby  Googe's  Sonnets,  1563: 
"  Torment  my  pauled  spryght."     STEEVENS. 

1  There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will.']     Dr.  Farmer  informs  me 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  347 

HOR.  That  is  most  certain. 

HAM.  Up  from  my  cabin, 
My  sea-gown  scarf  Jd  about  me,  in  the  dark 
Grop'd  I  to  find  out  them  :  had  my  desire ; 
Finger' d  their  packet ;  and,  in  fine,  withdrew 
To  mine  own  room  again :  making  so  bold, 
My  fears  forgetting  manners,  to  unseal 
Their  grand  commission  ;  where  I  found,  Horatio, 
A  royal  knavery ;  an  exact  command, — 
Larded  with  many  several  sorts  of  reasons,9 
Importing  Denmark's  health,  and  England's  too, 
With,  ho  !  such  bugs  and  goblins  in  my  life,1 — 

that  these  words  are  merely  technical.  A  wool-man,  butcher, 
and  dealer  in  skewers,  lately  observed  to  him,  that  his  nephew, 

(an  idle  lad)  could  only  assist  him  in  making  them ;  " he 

could  rough-hew  them,  but  I  was  obliged  to  shape  their  ends." 
To  shape  the  ends  of  wool-skewers,  i.  e.  to  point  them,  requires 
a  degree  of  skill ;  any  one  can  rough-hew  them.  Whoever  re- 
collects the  profession  of  Shakspeare's  father,  will  admit  that  his 
son  might  be  no  stranger  to  such  terms.  I  have  frequently  seen 
packages  of  wool  pinn'd  up  with  skeivers.  STEEVENS. 

0  Larded  with  many  several  sorts  of  reasons,]     I  am   afraid 
here  is  a  very  poor  conceit,  founded  on  an  equivoque  between 
reasons  and  raisins,  which  in  Shakspeare's  time  were  undoubt- 
edly pronounced  alike.     Sorts  of  raisins,  sugars,  &c.  is  a  com- 
mon phraseology   of  shops. — We   have  the   same   quibble  in 
another  play.     MALONE. 

1  suspect  no  quibble  or  conceit  in  these  words  of  Hamlet.  In 
one  of  Ophelia's  songs  a  similar  phrase  has  already  occurred : 
"  Larded  all  with  sweet  flowers."     To  lard  any  thing  with  rai- 
sins, however,  was  a  practice  unknown  to  ancient  cookery. 

STEEVENS. 

1  With,  ho!  such  bugs  and  goblins  in  my  life,~\   With  such  causes 
of  terror,  rising  from  my  character  and  designs.     JOHNSON. 

A  bug  was  no  less  a  terrifick  being  than  a  goblin.     So,  in 
Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  Book  II.  c.  iii : 

"  As  ghastly  bug  their  haire  an  end  does  reare." 
We  call  it  at  present  a  bugbear.     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  180,  n.  3.     MALONE. 


348  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

That,  on  the  supervise,  no  leisure  bated,2 
No,  not  to  stay  the  grinding  of  the  axe, 
My  head  should  be  struck  off.3 

Hos.  Is't  possible  ? 

HAM.  Here's  the  commission  ;  read  it  at  more 

leisure. 
But  wilt  thou  hear  now  how  I  did  proceed  ? 

HOR.  Ay,  'beseech  you. 

HAM.  Being  thus  benetted  round  with  villanies, 
Or  I  could  make4  a  prologue  to  my  brains, 

* no  leisure  bated,]  Bated  for  allowed.  To  abate,  sig- 
nifies to  deduct;  this  deduction,  when  applied  to  the  person  in 
whose  favour  it  is  made,  is  called  an  allowance.  Hence  he  takes 
the  liberty  of  using  bated  for  allowed.  WARBUHTON. 

No  leisure  bated — means,  without  any  abatement  or  intermis- 
sion of  time.  MALONE. 

*  That,  on  the  supervise,  no  leisure  bated, — 

My  head  should  be  struck  off.~\  From  what  original  our 
author  derived  this  incident  of  detecting  the  letter,  and  ex- 
changing it  for  another,  I  am  unqualified  to  determine.  A  similar 
stratagem,  however,  occurs  in  Andrew  of  Wyntoixrfs  Cronykilt 
B.  VI.  ch.  xiii  : 

*'  The  Prest  that  purs  opnyd  swne, 
"  And  fand  in  it  that  letter  dwne. 
"  That  he  opnyd,  and  red  the  payne, 
*'  The  berere  of  it  for  to  be  slayne. 
That  Letter  away  than  pwte  he  qwyte, 
And  sone  ane  othir  than  couth  he  wryte — 
He  cloysed  thys  Lettyr  curywsly, 
And  in  the  purs  all  prewely 

He  p\vt  it  quhare  the  tothir  was."     v.  188,  &  seq. 
The  words  of  the  first  letter  are, — 

Visa  litcra,  lator  illius  moriatur, 
Thus  also  Hamlet : 

"  .         That,  on  the  supervise, — 
"  He  should  the  bearers  put  to  sudden  death." 
The  story,  however  varied,  perhaps  originated  from  the  Bel- 
lerophontis  lilerce.     STEEVENS. 

4  Or  I  could  make — ]  Or  in  old  English  signified  before.  See 
Vol.  X.  p.  487,  n.  7.  MALONE. 


sc.  a.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  349 

They  had  begun  the  play  ;5 — I  sat  me  down  ; 
Devis'd  a  new  commission  ;  wrote  it  fair  : 
I  once  did  hold  it,  as  our  statists  do,6 
A  baseness  to  write  fair,7  and  labour'd  much 
How  to  forget  that  learning ;  but,  sir,  now 
It  did  me  yeoman's  service  :8  Wilt  thou  know 
The  effect  of  what  I  wrote  ? 


5  Being  thus  benetted  round  uith  mttanies, 
Or  I  could  make  a  prologue  to  my  brains, 
They  had  begun  the  play  ;~\  Hamlet  is  telling  how  luckily 
every  thing  fell  out ;  he  groped  out  their  commission  in  the  dark, 
without  waking  them  ;  he  found  himself  doomed  to  immediate 
destruction.  Something  was  to  be  done  for  his  preservation.  An 
expedient  occurred,  not  produced  by  the  comparison  of  one  me- 
thod with  another,  or  by  a  regular  deduction  of  consequences, 
but  before  he  could  make  a  prologue  to  his  brains ,  they  had  begun 
the  play.  Before  he  could  summon  his  faculties,  and  propose  to 
himself  what  should  be  done,  a  complete  scheme  of  action  pre- 
sented itself  to  him.  His  mind  operated  before  he  had  excited 
it.  This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  meaning.  JOHNSON. 

6 as  our  statists  do,^\     A  statist  is  a  statesman.     So,  in 

Shirley's  Humorous  Courtier,  1640: 

" that  he  is  wise,  a  statist." 

Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Magnetick  Lady  : 

"  Will  screw  you  out  a  secret  from  a  statist." 

STEEVENS. 

Most  of  the  great  men  of  Shakspeare's  times,  whose  auto- 
graphs have  been  preserved,  wrote  very  bad  hands  ;  their  secre- 
taries very  neat  ones.  BLACKSTONE. 

7  I  once  did  hold  it,  as  our  statists  do, 

A  baseness  to  write  fair, ~]  "  I  have  in  my  time,  (says  Mon- 
taigne) seene  some,  who  by  writing  did  earnestly  get  both  their 
titles  and  living,  to  disavow  their  apprentissage,  marre  their  pen, 
and  affect  the  ignorance  of  50  "vulgar  a  qualitie."  Florio's  trans- 
lation, 1603,  p.  125.  RITSON. 

8 yeoman's  service :"]     The  meaning,  I  believe,  is,  This 

yeomanly  qualification  luas  a  most  useful  servant,  or  yeoman,  to 
me;  i.  e.  did  me  eminent  service.  The  ancient  yeomen  were 
famous  for  their  military  valour.  "  These  were  the  good  archers 
in  times  past,  (says  Sir  Thomas  Smith,)  and  the  stable  troop  of 
footmen  that  affraide  all  France."  STEEVENS. 


S.50  HAMLET,  ACT  v. 

HOR.  Ay,  good  my  lord. 

HAM.  An  earnest  conjuration  from  the  king,— 
As  England  was  his  faithful  tributary ; 
As  Jove  between  them  like  the  palm  might  flou- 
rish ; 9 

As  peace  should  still  her  wheaten  garland  wear, 
And  stand  a  comma  'tween  their  amities ;  l 
And  many  such  like  as's  of  great  charge,2 — 

9 like  the  palm  might  Jlourish;"]     This   comparison   is 

scriptural :  "  The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  a  palm-tree." 

Psalm  xcii.  11.     STEEVENS. 

1  As  peace  should  still  her  wheaten  gar/and  wear, 
•  And  stand  a  comma  'tween  their  amities  ;]  The  expression 
of  our  author  is,  like  many  of  his  phrases,  sufficiently  constrained 
and  affected,  but  it  is  not  incapable  of  explanation.  The  comma 
is  the  note  of  connection  and  continuity  of  sentences;  the  period 
is  the  note  of  abruption  and  disjunction.  Shakspeare  had  it 
perhaps  in  his  mind  to  write, — That  unless  England  complied 
with  the  mandate,  tear  should  put  a  period  to  their  amity  ;  he 
altered  his  mode  of  diction,  and  thought  that,  in  an  opposite 
sense,  he  might  put,  that  peace  should  stand  a  comma  between 
their  amities.  This  is  not  an  easy  style;  but  is  it  not  the  style 
of  Shakspeare  ?  JOHNSON. 

8 as's  of  great  charge,'}    Asses  heavily  loaded.  A  quibble 

is  intended  between  as  the  conditional  particle,  and  ass  the 
beast  of  burthen.  That  charg'd  anciently  signified  loaded,  may 
be  proved  from  the  following  passage  in  The  Widow's  Tears,  by 
Chapman,  1612: 

"  Thou  must  be  the  ass  charg'd  with  crowns,  to  make 
way."     JOHNSON. 

Shakspeare  has  so  many  quibbles  of  his  own  to  answer  for, 
that  there  are  those  who  think  it  hard  he  should  be  charged  with 
others  which  perhaps  he  never  thought  of.  STEEVENS. 

Though  the  first  and  obvious  meaning  of  these  words  certainly 
is,  "  many  similar  adjurations,  or  monitory  injunctions,  of 
great  weight  and  importance,"  yet  Dr.  Johnson's  notion  of  a 
quibble  being  also  in  the  poet's  thoughts,  is  supported  by  two 
other  passages  of  Shakspeare,  in  which  asses  are  introduced  as 
usually  employed  in  the  carriage  of  gold,  a  charge  of  no  small 
weight : 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          351 

That,  on  the  view  and  knowing  of  these  contents, 
Without  debatement  further,  more,  or  less, 
He  should  the  bearers  put  to  sudden  death, 
Not  shriving-time  allow'd.3 

HOR.  How  was  this  seal'd  ? 

HAM.  Why,  even  in  that  was  heaven  ordinant ; 
I  had  my  father's  signet  in  my  purse, 
Which  was  the  model  of  that  Danish  seal:4 
Folded  the  writ  up  in  form  of  the  other ; 
Subscribed  it ;    gave't  the  impression ;  plac'd  it 

safely, 

The  changeling  never  known  :5  Now,  the  next  day 
Was  our  sea-fight ;  and  what  to  this  was  sequent 
Thou  know'st  already. 

HOR.  So  Guildenstern  and  Rosencrantz  go  to't. 

"  He  shall  but  bear  them,  as  the  ass  bears  gold, 
"  To  groan  and  sweat  under  the  business." 

Julius  Cfssar. 
Again,  in  Measure  for  Measure  : 

" like  an  assy  whose  back  with  ingot «  bows, 

"  Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  journey, 
"  And  death  unloads  thee." 

In  further  support  of  his  observation,  it  should  be  remember- 
ed, that  the  letter  s  in  tlie  particle  as  is  in  the  midland  counties 
usually  pronounced  hard,  as  in  the  pronoun  us.  Dr.  Johnson 
himself  always  pronounced  the  particle  as  hard,  and  so  I  have  no 
doubt  did  Shakspeare.  It  is  so  pronounced  in  Warwickshire  at 
this  day.  The  first  folio  accordingly  has — assis.  MALONE. 

3  Not  shriv'mg-time  allotu'd."]  i.  e.  without  time  for  confession 
of  their  sins :  another  proof  of  Hamlet's  christian-like  disposition. 
See  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  IV.  sc.  ii.  STEEVENS. 

* the  model  of  that  Danish  seal:~\     The  model  is  in  old 

language  the  copy.     The  signet  was  formed  in  imitation  of  the 
Danish  seal.     See  Vol.  XL  p.  97,  n.  8.     MALONE. 

*  The  changeling  never  knotvn :]  A  changeling  is  a  child  which 
the  fairies  are  supposed  to  leave  in  the  room  of  that  which  they 
steal.  JOHNSON. 


352  HAMLET,  ACT  n 

HAM.  Why,  man,6  they  did  make  love  to  this 

employment ; 

They  are  not  near  my  conscience ;  their  defeat 
Does  by  their  own  insinuation  grow:7 
'Tis  dangerous,  when  the  baser  nature  comes 
Between  the  pass  and  fell  incensed  points 
Of  mighty  opposites. 

HOR.  Why,  what  a  king  is  this  ! 

HAM.  Does  it  not,  think  thee,8  stand  me  now 

upon  ? 

He  that  hath  kuTd  myking,and  whor'd  mymother; 
Popp'd  in  between  the  election  and  my  hopes ; 
Thrown  out  his  angle9  for  my  proper  life, 
And  with  such  cozenage ;   is't  not  perfect  con- 
science, 
To  quit  him l  with  this  arm  ?  and  is't  not  to  be 

damn'd, 

To  let  this  canker  of  our  nature  come 
In  further  evil  ? 

HOR.  It  must  be  shortly  known  to  him  from  Eng- 
land, 

0  Why,  man,  &c.]     This  line  is  omitted  in  the  quartos. 

STEEVENS. 

7 by  their  oivn  insinuation — ]    Insinuation,  for  corruptly 

obtruding  themselves  into  his  service.     WARBURTON. 

By  their  having  insinuated  or  thrust  themselves  into  the  em- 
ployment. MALONE. 

* think  thee,']  i.  e.  bethink  thee.     MALONE. 

9  Thrown  out  his  angle — ]  An  angle  in  Shakspeare's  time 
signified  a  fishing-rod.  So,  in  Lyly's  Sapho  and  Phao,  1591 : 

"  Phao.  But  he  may  bless  fishing,  that  caught  such  a  one  in 
the  sea. 

"  Venus.  It  was  not  with  an  angle,  my  boy,  but  with  a  net." 

MALONE. 

1  To  quit  him — ]     To  requite  him  ;  to  pay  him  his  due. 

JOHNSON. 

This  passage,  as  well  as  the  three  following  speeches,  is  not 
in  the  quartos.  STEEVENS. 


so.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  353 

What  is  the  issue  of  the  business  there. 

HAM.  It  will  be  short :  the  interim  is  mine ; 
And  a  man's  life  no  more  than  to  say,  one. 
But  I  am  very  sorry,  good  Horatio, 
That  to  Laertes  I  forgot  myself; 
For  by  the  image  of  my  cause,  I  see 
The  portraiture  of  his :  I'll  count  his  favours : 2 
But,  sure,  the  bravery  of  his  grief  did  put  me 
Into  a  towering  passion. 

HOR.  Peace ;  who  comes  here  ? 

Enter  Osmc. 

OSR.  Your  lordship  is  right  welcome  back  to 
Denmark. 

HAM.  I  humbly  thank  you,  sir. — Dost  know  this 
water-fly?3 

s Pit  count  his  favours :~]  Thus  the  folio.  Mr.  Rowe  first 

made  the  alteration,  which  is  perhaps  unnecessary.  I'll  count 
his  favours,  may  mean — I  mil  make  account  of  them,  i.  e.  reckon 
upon  them,  value  them.  STEEVENS. 

What  favours  has  Hamlet  received  from  Laertes,  that  he  was  to 
make  account  of? — I  have  no  doubt  but  we  should  read: 
/'//  court  his  favour.     M.  MASON. 

Mr.  Rowe  for  count  very  plausibly  reads  court.     MALONE. 

Hamlet  may  refer  to  former  civilities  of  Laertes,  and  weigh 
them  against  his  late  intemperance  of  behaviour ;  or  may  count 
on  such  kindness  as  he  expected  to  receive  in  consequence  of  a 
meditated  reconciliation. 

It  should  be  observed,  however,  that  in  ancient  language  to 
count  and  recount  were  synonymous.  So,  in  the  Troy  Book, 
(Caxton's  edit.)  "I  am  comen  hether  untoyow  for  refuge,  and 
to  telle  &  count  my  sorowes."  STEEVENS. 

3 Dost  know  this  water-fly  ?]     A  water-fly  skips  up  and 

down  upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  without  any  apparent  pur- 
pose or  reason,  and  is  thence  the  proper  emblem  of  a  busy  trifler. 

JOHNSON. 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  A 


S54,  HAMLET,  ACT  y. 

HOR.  No,  my  good  lord. 

HAM.  Thy  state  is  the  more  gracious ;  for  'tis  a 
vice  to  know  him:  He  hath  much  land,  and  fertile: 
let  a  beast  be  lord  of  beasts,  and  his  crib  shall  stand 
at  the  king's  mess :  'Tis  a  chough  ;4  but,  as  I  say, 
spacious  in  the  possession  of  dirt. 

OSR.  Sweet  lord,  if  your  lordship  were  at  leisure, 
I  should  impart  a  thing  to  you  from  his  majesty. 

HAM.  I  will  receive  it,  sir,  with  all  diligence  of 
spirit :  Your  bonnet  to  his  right  use ;  'tis  for  the 
head. 

OSR.  I  thank  your  lordship,  'tis  very  hot. 

HAM.  No,  believe  me,  'tis  very  cold  j  the  wind 
is  northerly. 

OSR.  It  is  indifferent  cold,  my  lord,  indeed. 

HAM.  But  yet,  methinks  it  is  very  sultry  and 
hot  ;5  or  my  complexion6 

OSR.  Exceedingly,  my  lord  j  it  is  very  sultry,7— 

Water-fly  is  in  Troilus  andCressida  used  as  a  term  of  reproach, 
for  contemptible  from  smallness  of  size :  "  How  (says  Thersites) 
the  poor  world  is  pestered  with  such  "water-flies  ;  diminutives  of 
nature."  Water-flies  are  gnats.  This  insect  in  Chaucer  denotes 
a  thing  of  no  value.  Canterbury  Talcs,  v.  17,203,  Mr.  Tyr- 
whitt's  edition : 

«*  Not  worth  to  thee  as  in  comparison 

"  The  mountance  [value']  of  a  gnat"    HOLT  WHITE. 

4 '  Tis  a  chough  ;]     A  kind  of  jackdaw.    JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  XI.  p.  257,  n.  3.     STEEVENS. 

5  But  yet,  methinks,  it  is  very  sultry  &c.]  Hamlet  is  here 
playing  over  the  same  farce  with  Osric,  which  he  had  formerly 
done  with  Polonius.  STEEVENS. 

c or  my  complexion — ]  The  folios  read— -for  my  com- 
plexion. STEEVENS. 

7  Exceedingly,  my  lord  ;  it  is  very  sultry,] 

" igniculum  brumae  si  tempore  poscas, 

"  Accipit  endromidem ;  si  dixeris  aestuo,  sudat,"    Juv. 

MALONE. 


sc.ii.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  855 

as  'twere,- — I  cannot  tell  how. — My  lord,  his  ma- 
jesty bade  me  signify  to  you,  that  he  has  laid  a  great 
w^ger  on  your  head :  Sir,  this  is  the  matter, — 

HAM.  I  beseech  you,  remember8 

[HAMLET  moves  him  to  put  on  his  Hat. 

OSR.  Nay,  good  my  lord ;  for  my  ease,  in  good 
faith.9  Sir,1  here  is  newly  come  to  court,  Laertes: 
believe  me,  an  absolute  gentleman,  full  of  most  ex- 
cellent differences,2  of  very  soft  society,  and  great 


8  I  beseech  you,  remember — ]  "Remember  not  your  courtesy," 
I  believe,  Hamlet  would  have  said,  if  he  had  not  been  inter- 
rupted. "  Remember  thy  courtesy,"  he  could  not  possibly  have 
Said,  and  therefore  this  abrupt  sentence  may  serve  to  confirm  an 
emendation  which  I  proposed  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Vol.  VII. 
p.  139,  n.  7,  where  Armado  says, — "  I  do  beseech  thee,  remember 
thy  courtesy  ; — I  beseech  thee,  apparel  thy  head."     I  have  no 

doubt  that  Shakspeare  there  wrote, " remember  not  thy 

courtesy," — and  that  the  negative  was  omitted  by  the  negligence 
of  the  compositor.     MALONE; 

9  Nay,  good  my  lord;  for  my  ease,  in  good  Jaith.~]      This 
seems  to  have  been  the  affected  phrase  of  the  time.     Thus,  in 
Marston's  Malcontent,  1604:  "  I  beseech  you,  sir,  be  covered. 
— No,  in  good  faiths/or  my  ease,"     And  in  other  places. 

FARMER, 

It  appears  to  have  been  the  common  language  of  ceremony 
in  our  author's  time.  "  Why  do  you  stand  bareheaded?  (says  one 
of  the  speakers  in  Florio's  SECOND  FRUTES,  1591,)  you  do  your- 
self wrong.     Pardon  me,  good  sir,  (replies  his  friend;)  I  do  it 
for  my  ease" 

Again,  in  A  Netv  Way  to  pay  old  Debts,  by  Massinger,  1633  : 

" Is' if  or  your  ease 

"  You  keep  your  hat  off?"     MALONE. 

1  Sir,  &c.]  The  folio  omits  this  and  the  following  fourteen 
speeches  ;  and  in  their  place  substitutes  only,  "  Sir,  you  are  not 
ignorant  of  what  excellence  Laertes  is  at  his  weapon." 

STEEVENS. 

* full  of  most  excellent  differences, ~\  Full  of  distinguishing 

excellencies.    JOHNSON. 

2  A  2 


356  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

showing :  Indeed,  to  speak  feelingly3  of  him,  he  is 
the  card  or  calendar  of  gentry,3  lor  you  shall  find 
in  him  the  continent  of  what  part  a  gentleman 
would  see.4 

HAM.  Sir,  his  definement  suffers  no  perdition  in 
you;5 — though,  I  know, to  divide  him  inventorially, 
would  dizzy  the  arithmetick  of  memory ;  and  yet 
but  raw  neither,6  in  respect  of  his  quick  sail.  But, 
in  the  verity  of  extolment,  I  take  him  to  be  a  soul 


* speak  feelingly — ]     The  first  quarto  reads — sellingly. 

So,  in  another  of  our  author's  plays : 

"  To  things  of  sale  a  seller's  praise  belongs."    STEEVENS. 

a the  card  or  calendar  of  gentry,"]  The  general  preceptor 

of  elegance ;  the  card  by  which  a  gentleman  is  to  direct  his 
course ;  the  calendar  by  which  he  is  to  choose  his  time,  that  what 
he  does  may  be  both  excellent  and  seasonable.  JOHNSON. 

* for  you  shall  find  in  him  the  continent  of  what  part  a 

gentleman  woidd  see.~]  You  shall  find  him  containing  and  com- 
prising every  quality  which  a  gentleman  would  desire  to  contem- 
plate for  imitation.  I  know  not  but  it  should  be  read,  You  shall 
find  him  the  continent.  JOHNSON. 

*  Sir,  his  dejinement  &c.]  This  is  designed  as  a  specimen, 
and  ridicule  of  the  court-jargon  amongst  the  precieux  of  that 
time.  The  sense  in  English  is,  "  Sir,  he  suffers  nothing  in  your 
account  of  him,  though  to  enumerate  his  good  qualities  particu- 
larly would  be  endless  ;  yet  when  we  had  done  our  best,  it  would 
still  come  short  of  him.  However,  in  strictness  of  truth,  he  is 
a  great  genius,  and  of  a  character  so  rarely  to  be  met  with,  that 
to  find  any  thing  like  him  we  must  look  into  his  mirrour,  and 
his  imitators  will  appear  no  more  than  his  shadows." 

WARBURTON. 


6 and  yet  but  raw  neither,"]     We  should  read — slow. 

WARBURTON. 

I  believe  raw  to  be  the  right  word ;  it  is  a  word  of  great  lati- 
tude :  raw  signifies  unripe,  immature,  thence  unformed,  imperfect, 
unskUfuL  The  best  account  of  him  would  be  imperfect,  in  respect 
of  his  quick  sail.  The  phrase  auick  sail  was,  I  suppose,  a  pro- 
verbial term  for  activity  ofmina.  JOHNSON. 


sc.n.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          357 

of  great  article  ;7  and  his  infusion  of  such  dearth8 
and  rareness,  as,  to  make  true  diction  of  him,  his 
semblable  is  his  mirrour ;  and,  who  else  would  trace 
him,  his  umbrage,  nothing  more. 

OSR.  Your  lordship  speaks  most  infallibly  of 
him. 

HAM.  The  concernancy,  sir  ?  why  do  we  wrap 
the  gentleman  in  our  more  rawer  breath  ? 

OSR.  Sir? 

HOR.  Is't  not  possible  to  understand  in  another 
tongue  ?  You  will  do't,  sir,  really.9 

7 a  soul  of  great  article ;]     This  is  obscure.     I  once 

thought  it  might  have  been,  a  soul  of  'great  altitude  ;  but,  I  sup- 
pose, a  soul  of  great  article,  means  a  soul  of  large  comprehension, 
of  many  contents ;  the  particulars  of  an  inventory  are  called 
articles.  JOHNSON. 

8 of  such  dearth — ]     Dearth  is  dearness,  value,  price. 

And  his  internal  qualities  of  such  value  and  rarity.     JOHNSON. 

9  Is't  not  possible  to  understand  in  another  tongue  ?  You  ivill 
do't,  sir,  really. ~\  Of  this  interrogatory  remark  the  sense  is  very 
obscure.  The  question  may  mean,  Might  not  all  this  be  under- 
stood in  plainer  language.  But  then,  you  ivill  do  it,  sir,  really  y 
seems  to  have  no  use,  for  who  could  doubt  but  plain  language 
would  be  intelligible  ?  I  would  therefore  read,  Is't  possible  not 
to  be  understood  in  a  mother  tongue  ?  You  luill  do  it,  sir,  really. 

JOHNSON. 

Suppose  we  were  to  point  the  passage  thus  :  "  Is't  not  possible 
to  understand  ?  In  another  tongue  you  will  do  it,  sir,  really." 

The  speech  seems  to  be  addressed  to  Osric,  who  is  puzzled  by 
Hamlet's  imitation  of  his  own  affected  language.  STEEVENS. 

Theobald  has  silently  substituted  rarely  for  really.  I  think 
Horatio's  speech  is  addressed  to  Hamlet.  Another  tongue  does 
not  mean,  as  I  conceive, plainer  language,  (as  Dr.  Johnson  sup- 
posed,) but  **  language  so  fantastical  and  affected  as  to  have  the 
appearance  of  a  foreign  tongue :"  and  in  the  following  words 
Horatio,  I  think,  means  to  praisa  Hamlet  for  imitating  this  kind 
of  babble  so  happily.  I  suspect,  however,  that  the  poet  wrote 
— Is't f)ossible  not  to  understand  in-a  mother  tongue? 


35*  HAMLET,  ACT  Vi 

HAM.  What  imports  the  nomination  of  this  gen- 
tleman ? 

OSR.  Of  Laertes? 

HOR.  His  purse  is  empty  already  j  all  his  golden 
words  are  spent. 

HAM.  Of  him,  sir. 

OSR.  I  know,  you  are  not  ignorant 

HAM.  I  would,  you  did,  sir ;  yet,  in  faith,  if  you 
did,  it  would  not  much  approve  me  ; ' — Well,  sir. 

OSR.  You  are  not  ignorant  of  what  excellence 
Laertes  is 

HAM.  I  dare  not  confess  that,  lest  I  should  com- 
pare with  him  in  excellence  ;*  but,  to  know  a  man 
well,  were  to  know  himself. 

OSR.  I  mean,  sir,  for  his  weapon  ;  but  in  the 
imputation  laid  on  him  by  them,  in  his  meed3  he's 
unfellowed. 

HAM.  What's  his  weapon  ? 

Since  this  note  was  written,  I  have  found  the  very  same  error 
in  Bacon's  Advancement  of  Learning,  4to.  1605,  B.  II.  p.  60 : 
'*  —  the  art  of  grammar,  whereof  the  use  in  another  tongue  is 
small,  in  a  foreine  tongue  more."  The  author  in  his  table  of 
Errata  says,  it  should  have  been  printed — in  mother  tongue. 

MALONE. 

1 if  you  did,  it  would  not  much  approve  me  ;~\    If  you 

knew  I  was  not  ignorant,  your  esteem  would  not  much  advance 
my  reputation.     To  approve,  is  to  recommend  to  approbation. 

JOHNSON. 

*  /  dare  not  confess  that,  lest  I  should  compare  luith  him  &.c.~] 
I  dare  not  pretend  to  know  him,  lest  I  should  pretend  to  an 
equality:  no  man  can  completely  know  another,  but  by  knowing 
himself,  which  is  the  utmost  extent  of  human  wisdom. 

JOHNSON. 

3 in  his  meed — ]     In  his  excellence.    JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  169,  n.  8.    MALONE. 


iff.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  359 

OSR.  Rapier  and  dagger. 

HAM.  That's  two  of  his  weapons :  but,  well. 

OSR.  The  king,  sir,  hath  wagered  with  him  six 
Barbary  horses :  against  the  which  he  has  impawned,4 
as  I  take  it,  six  French  rapiers  and  poniards,  with 
their  assigns,  as  girdle,  hangers,5  and  so :  Three  of 

4 impawned,']     Thus  the  quarto,  1604.     The  folio  reads 

— import* d.  Pignare  in  Italian  signifies  both  to  paivn,  and  to  lay 
a  wager.  M ALONE. 

Perhaps  it  should  be,  deponed.     So,  Hudibras : 
"  I  would  upon  this  cause  depone, 
"  As  much  as  any  I  have  known." 

But  perhaps  imponed  is  pledged,  impawned,  so  spelt  to  ridicule 
the  affectation  of  uttering  English  words  with  French  pronun- 
ciation. JOHNSON. 

To  impone  is  certainly  right,  and  means  to  put  down,  to  stake, 
from  the  verb  impono.  RITSON. 

J hangers,"]     Under  this  term  were  comprehended  four 

graduated  straps,  &c.  that  hung  down  in  a  belt  on  each  side  of 
its  receptacle  for  the  sword.  I  write  this,  with  a  most  gorgeous 
belt,  at  least  as  ancient  as  the  time  of  James  I.  before  me.  It 
is  of  crimson  velvet  embroidered  with  gold,  and  had  belonged  to 
the  Somerset  family. 

In  Massinger's  Fatal  Doury,  Liladam  (who,  when  arrested  as 
a  gentleman,  avows  himself  to  have  been  a  tailor, )  says : 

" This  rich  sword 

"  Grew  suddenly  out  of  a  tailor's  bodkin ; 
"  These  hangers  from  my  vails  and  fees  in  hell:"  &c. 
i.  e.  the  tailor's  hells  the  place  into  which  shreds  and  remnants 
are  thrown. 

Again,  in  The  Birth  of  Merlin,  1662: 

"  He  has  a  fair  sword,  but  his  hangers  are  fallen." 
Again,  in  Rhodon  and  Iris,  1631 : 

" a  rapier 

"  Hatch'd  with  gold,  with  hilt  and  hangers  of  the  new 

fashion." 

The  same  word  occurs  in  the  eleventh  Iliad,  as  translated  by 
Chapman : 

"  The  scaberd  was  of  silver  plate,  with  golden  hangers 
graet." 


SCO  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

the  carriages,  in  faith,  are  very  dear  to  fancy,  very 
responsive  to  the  hilts,  most  delicate  carriages,  and 
of  very  liberal  conceit. 

HAM.  What  call  you  the  carriages  ? 

HOR.  I  knew,  you  must  be  edified  by  the  mar- 
gent,6  ere  you  had  done. 

OSR.  The  carriages,  sir,  are  the  hangers. 
HAM.  The  phrase  would  be  more  german7  to  the 

Mr.  Pope  mistook  the  meaning  of  this  term,  conceiving  it  to 
signify — short  pendulous  broad  swords.  STEEVENS. 

The  word  hangers  has  been  misunderstood.  That  part  of  the 
girdle  or  belt  by  which  the  sword  was  suspended,  was  in  our 
poet's  time  called  the  hangers.  See  Minsheu's  Dictionary,  1617  : 
*'  The  hangers  of  a  sword.  G.  Pendants  d'espee,  L.  Subcingu- 
lum,"  &c.  So,  in  an  Inventory  found  among  the  papers  of 
Hamlet  Clarke,  an  attorney  of  a  court  of  record  in  London,  in 
the  year  1611,  and  printed  in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  Vol. 
LVIII.  p.  Ill: 

"  Item,  One  payre  of  girdle  and  hangers,  of  silver  purle,  and 
cullored  silke. 

"  Item,  One  payre  of  girdler  and  hangers  upon  white  sattene." 

The  hangers  ran  into  an  oblique  direction  from  the  middle  of 
the  forepart  of  the  girdle  across  the  left  thigh,  and  were  attached 
to  the  girdle  behind.  MALONE. 

6 you  must  be  edified  by  the  margent,]     Dr.  Warburton 

very  properly  observes,  that  in  the  old  books  the  gloss  or  com- 
ment was  usually  printed  on  the  margent  of  the  leaf.  So,  in 
Decker's  Honest  Whore,  Part  II.  1630: 

" 1  read 

"  Strange  comments  in  those  margins  of  your  looks." 
Again,  in  The  Contention  bctviyxte  Churchyeard  and  Camett, 
&c.  1560: 

"  A  solempne  processe  at  a  blussshe 

"  He  quoted  here  and  there, 
"  With  matter  in  the  margent  set"  &c. 
This  speech  is  omitted  in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

7 more  german — ]     More  a-kin.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale :  "  Those  that  are  german  to  him, 
though  removed  fifty  times,  shall  come  under  the  hangman." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  S6i 

matter,  if  we  could  carry  a  cannon  by  our  sides ; 
I  would,  it  might  be  hangers  till  then.  But,  on  : 
Six  Barbary  horses  against  six  French  swords,  their 
assigns,  and  three  liberal-conceited  carriages;  that's 
the  French  bet  against  the  Danish :  Why  is  this 
impawned,  as  you  call  it  ? 

OSR.  The  king,  sir,  hath  laid,8  that  in  a  dozen 
passes  between  yourself  and  him,  he  shall  not  ex- 
ceed you  three  hits ;  he  hath  laid,  on  twelve  for 
nine ;  and  it  would  come  to  immediate  trial,  if 
your  lordship  would  vouchsafe  the  answer. 

HAM.  How,  if  I  answer,  no  ? 

OSR.  I  mean,  my  lord,  the  opposition  of  your 
person  in  trial. 

HAM.  Sir,  I  will  walk  here  in  the  hall :  If  it 
please  his  majesty,  it  is  the  breathing  time  of  day 
with  me  :  let  the  foils  be  brought,  the  gentleman 
willing,  and  the  king  hold  his  purpose,  I  will  win 
for  him,  if  I  can ;  if  not,  I  will  gain  nothing  but 
my  shame,  and  the  odd  hits. 

OSR.  Shall  I  deliver  you  so  ? 

8  The  king,  sir,  hath  laid,~\  This  wager  I  do  not  understand. 
In  a  dozen  passes  one  must  exceed  the  other  more  or  less  than 
three  hits.  Nor  can  I  comprehend,  how,  in  a  dozen,  there  can 
be  twelve  to  nine.  The  passage  is  of  no  importance ;  it  is  suffi- 
cient that  there  was  a  wager.  The  quarto  has  the  passage  as  it 
stands.  The  folio — He  hath  one  twelve  for  mine.  JOHNSON. 

As  three  or  four  complete  pages  would  scarcely  hold  the  re- 
marks already  printed,  together  with  those  which  have  lately 
been  communicated  to  me  in  MS.  on  this  very  unimportant  pas- 
sage, I  shall  avoid  both  partiality  and  tcdiousness,  by  the  omis- 
sion of  them  all.  I  therefore  leave  the  conditions  of  this  wager 
to  be  adjusted  by  the  members  of  Brookes's,  or  the  Jockey-Club 
at  Newmarket,  who  on  such  subjects  may  prove  the  most  en- 
lightened commentators,  and  most  successfully  bestir  themselves 
in  the  cold  unpoetick  dabble  of  calculation.  STEEVENS. 


362  HAMLET,  ACT  n 

HAM.  To  this  effect,  sirj   after  what  flourish 
your  nature  will. 

OSR.  I  commend  my  duty  to  your  lordship. 

[Exit. 

HAM.  Yours,  yours. — He  does  well,  to  commend 
it  himself;  there  are  no  tongues  else  for's  turn. 

HOR.  This  lapwing  runs  away  with  the  shell  on 
his  head.9 

9  This  lapwing  runs  atony  with  the  shell  on  his  head."]  I  see 
no  particular  propriety  in  the  image  of  the  lapwing.  Osric  did 
not  run  till  he  had  done  his  business.  We  may  read — This  lap- 
wing ran  away. — That  is,  this  fellow  was  full  of  unimportant 
bustle  from  his  birth.  JOHNSON. 

The  same  image  occurs  in  Ben  Jonson's  Staple  of  News: 

« 1  and  coachmen 

"  To  mount  their  boxes  reverently,  and  drive 
"  Like  lapwings  with  a  shell  upon  their  heads, 
**  Thorough  the  streets." 

And  I  have  since  met  with  it  in  several  other  plays.     The 
meaning,  I  believe  is — This  is  a  forward  fellow.     So,  in  The 
JVhite  Devil,  or  Vittoria  Corombona,  1612: 
"  Forward  lapwing, 
"  He  flies  with  the  shell  on's  head." 

Again,  in  Greene's  Never  too  Late,  1616 :  "  Are  yoa  no 
sooner  hatched,  with  the  lapwing,  but  you  will  run  away  with 
the  shell  on  your  head?" 

Again,  in  Revenge  for  Honour,  by  Chapman: 

"  Boldness  enforces  youth  to  hard  atchievements 
"  Before  their  time ;  makes  them  run  forth  like  lapwings 
"  From  their  warm  nest,  part  of  the  shell  yet  sticking 
"  Unto  their  downy  heads."     STEEVENS. 

I  believe,  Hamlet  means  to  say  that  Osric  is  bustling  and 
impetuous,  and  yet  "  but  raw  in  respect  of  his  quick  sail."  So, 
in  The  Character  of  an  Oxford  Incendiary,  1643:  "  This  lap- 
wing incendiary  ran  away  half-hatched  from  Oxford,  to  raise  a 
combustion  in  Scotland." 

In  Meres's  Wit's  Treasury,  1598,  we  have  the  same  image 
expressed  exactly  in  our  poet's  words :  "  As  the  lapwing  runneth 
away  with  the  shell  on  her  head,  as  soon  as  she  is  hatched,"  &c. 

MALONE. 


sc.  u.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          36$ 

HAM.  He  did  comply  with  his  dug,  before  he 
sucked  it.1  Thus  has  he  (and  many  more  of  the 
same  breed,2  that,  I  know,  the  drossy  age  dotes  on,) 
only  got  the  tune  of  the  time,  and  outward  habit 
of  encounter;3  a  kind  of  yesty  collection,  which 
carries  them  through  and  through  the  most  fond 
and  winnowed  opinions;4  and  do  but  blow  them 
to  their  trial,  the  bubbles  are  out.5 

1  He  did  comply  with  his  dug,  &c.]  Thus  the  folio.  The 
quarto,  1604-,  reads — A  [i.  e.  he~\  did,  sir,  with  his  dug,  &c. 
For  comply  Dr.  Warburton  and  the  subsequent  editors  read — 
compliment.  The  verb  to  compliment  was  not  used,  as  I  think, 
in  trie  time  of  Shakspeare.  MALONE. 

I  doubt  whether  any  alteration  be  necessary.  Shakspeare 
seems  to  have  used  comply  in  the  sense  in  which  we  use  the 
verb  compliment.  See  before,  Act  II.  sc.  ii :  "  — let  me  comply 
with  you  in  this  garb."  TYRWHITT. 

Comply  is  right.  So,  in  Fuller's  Historic  of  the  Holy  Warre, 
p.  80 :  "  Some  weeks  were  spent  in  complying,  entertainments, 
and  visiting  holy  places ; — ."  To  compliment  was,  however,  by 
no  means,  an  unusual  term  in  Shakspeare's  time.  REED. 

Again,  ibid.  p.  219 :  "  But  sure,  so  cunning  a  companion  had 
long  conversed  with — and  Princes,  as  appeareth  by  his  complying 
carriage"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

*  and  many  more  of  the  same  breed,]    The  first  folio  has 

— and  mine  more  of  the  same  beavy.     The  second  folio — and 
nine  more  &c.    Perhaps  the  last  is  the  true  reading.    STEEVENS. 

There  may  be  a  propriety  in  levy,  as  he  has  just  called  him  a 
lapwing.  TOLLET. 

"  Many  more  of  the  same  breed,"  is  the  reading  of  the 
quarto,  1604.  MALONE. 

3  outward  habit  of  encounter  ,•]     Thus  the  folio.     The 

quartos  read — out  of  an  habit  of  encounter.     STEEVENS. 

Outward  habit  of  encounter,  is  exterior  politeness  of  address; 
in  allusion  to  Osric's  last  speech.  HENLEY. 

We  should,  I  think,  read — an  outward  habit,  &c.     MALONE. 

4  a  kind  of  yesty  collection,  "which  carries  them  through 

and  through  the  most  fond  and  winnowed  opinions ;~]     This  pas- 
sage in  the  quarto  stands  thus : — "  They  have  got  out  of  the 
habit  of  encounter,  a  kind  of  misty  collection,  which  carries 


364-  HAMLET,  ACT  v. 

Enter  a  Lord. 

LORD.  My  lord,6  his  majesty  commended  him  to 
you  by  young  Osric,  who  brings  back  to  him,  that 

them  through  and  through  the  most  profane  and  trennowned 
opinions."  If  this  printer  preserved  any  traces  of  the  original, 
our  author  wrote  **  the  most  sane  and  renowned  opinions ;" 
which  is  better  than  fanned  and  winnowed. 

The  meaning  is,  "  these  men  have  got  the  cant  of  the  day,  a 
superficial  readiness  of  slight  and  cursory  conversation,  a  kind  of 
frothy  collection  of  fashionable  prattle,  which  yet  carries  them 
through  the  most  select  and  approving  judgments.  This  airy 
facility  of  talk  sometimes  imposes  upon  wise  men." 

Who  has  not  seen  this  observation  verified?     JOHNSON. 

The  quarto,  1604,  reads,  "  — dotes  on  ;  only  got  the  tune  of 
the  time,  and  out  of  an  habit,"  &c.  and — not  misty,  but  histy ; 
the  folio,  rightly,  yesty:  the  same  quarto  has  not  trennowned, 
but  trennowed  ( a  corruption  of  winnowed, )  for  which  ( according 
to  the  usual  process,)  the  next  quarto  gave  trennowned.  Fond 
and  winnowed  is  the  reading  of  the  folio.  MALONE. 

Fond  is  evidently  opposed  to  winnowed.  Fond,  in  the  language 
of  Shakspeare's  age,  signified  foolish.  So,  in  The  Merchant  of 
Venice: 

"  Thou  naughty  jailer,  why  art  thou  so  fond,"  &c. 
Winnowed  is  sifted,  examined.  The  sense  is  then,  that  their 
conversation  was  yet  successful  enough  to  make  them  passable 
not  only  with  the  weak,  but  with  those  of  sounder  judgment. 
The  same  opposition  in  terms  is  visible  in  the  reading  which  the 
quartos  offer.  Profane  and  vulgar  is  opposed  to  trenowned,  or 
thrice  renowned.  STEEVENS. 

Fanned  and  winnowed  seems  right  to  me.  Both  words,  win- 
nowed,  fand*  and  drest,  occur  together  in  Markham's  English 
Husbandman,  p.  117.  So  do  fan'rf  and  winnowV,  fanned,  and 
winnowed,  in  his  Husbandry,  p.  18,  76,  and  77.  So,  Shakspeare 
mentions  together  the  fan  and  wind,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida, 
Act  V.  sc.  iii.  TOLLET. 

On  considering  this  passage,  it  always  appeared  to  me  that  we 
ought  to  read,  "  the  most  sound  and  winnowed  opinions :"  and 

*  So  written  without  the  apostrophe,  and  easily  rai^ht  in  MS.  be  mistaken 
for  fond. 


SC..H.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK. 

you  attend  him  in  the  hall :  He  sends  to  know,  if 
your  pleasure  hold  to  play  with  Laertes,  or  that  you 
will  take  longer  time. 

HAM.  I  am  constant  to  my  purposes,  they  follow 
the  king's  pleasure :  if  his  fitness  speaks,  mine  is 
ready ;  now,  or  whensoever,  provided  I  be  so  able 
as  now. 

LORD.  The  king,  and  queen,  and  all  are  coming 
down. 

HAM.  In  happy  time. 

LORD.  The  queen  desires  you,  to  use  some  gentle 
entertainment7  to  Laertes,  before  you  fall  to  play. 

HAM.  She  well  instructs  me.  [_Exit  Lord. 

HOR.  You  will  lose  this  wager,  my  lord. 

HAM.  I  do  not  think  so ;  since  he  went  into 
France,  I  have  been  in  continual  practice ;  I  shall 
win  at  the  odds.8  But  thou  would'st  not  think, 
how  ill  all's  here  about  my  heart:  but  it  is  no 
matter. 

I  have  been  confirmed  in  that  conjecture  by  a  passage  I  lately 
met  with  in  Howel's  Letters,  where  speaking  of  a  man  merely 
contemplative,  he  says :  "  Besides  he  may  want  judgement  in 
the  choice  of  his  authors,  and  knows  not  how  to  turn  his  hand 
either  in  weighing  or  ivinnotving  the  soundest  opinions."  Book  III. 
Letter  viii.  M.  MASON. 

*  do  but  blow  them  &c.]     These  men  of  show,  without 

solidity,  are  like  bubbles  raised  from  soap  and  water,  which 
dance,  and  glitter,  and  please  the  eye,  but  if  you  extend  them, 
by  blowing  hard,  separate  into  a  mist ;  so  if  you  oblige  these 
specious  talkers  to  extend  their  compass  of  conversation,  they 
at  once  discover  the  tenuity  of  their  intellects.  JOHNSON. 

0  My  lord,  &c.]     All  that  passes  between  Hamlet  and  this 
Lord  is  omitted  in  the  folio.     STEEVENS. 

gentle  entertainment — ]     Mild  and  temperate  conver- 


sation.    JOHNSON. 

8  1  shall  "win  at  the  odds.]    I  shall  succeed  with  the  ad- 
vantage that  I  am  allowed.     MA  LONE. 


366  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

HOR.  Nay,  good  my  lord, 

HAM.  It  is  but  foolery ;  but  it  is  such  a  kind  of 
gain-giving,9  as  would,  perhaps,  trouble  a  woman. 

HOR.  If  your  mind  dislike  any  thing,  obey  iti l 
I  will  forestal  their  repair  hither,  and  say,  you  are 
not  fit. 

HAM.  Not  a  whit,  we  defy  augury ;  there  is  a 
special  providence  in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow.  If  it 
be  now,  'tis  not  to  come ;  if  it  be  not  to  come,  it 
will  be  now ;  if  it  be  not  now,  yet  it  will  come : 
the  readiness  is  all :  Since  no  man,  of  aught  he 
leaves,  knows,  what  is't.  to  leave  betimes  ? 2  Let  be. 

9  a  Und  of  gain-giving,]     Gain-giving  is  the  same  as 

misgiving.    STEEVENS. 

1  If  your  mind  dislike  any  thing,  obey  it:~] 

• Urgent  prcesagia  mille 

Funeris,  et  nigrce  preecedunt  nubila  mortis. 
With  these  presages  of  future  evils  arising  in  the  mind,  the  poet 
has  fore-run  many  events  which  are  to  happen  at  the  conclusions 
of  his  plays ;  and  sometimes  so  particularly,  that  even  the  cir- 
cumstances of  calamity  are  minutely  hinted  at,  as  in  the  instance 
of  Juliet,  who  tells  her  lover  from  the  window,  that  he  appears 
like  one  dead  in  the  bottom  of  a  tomb.  The  supposition  that  the 
genius  of  the  mind  gave  an  alarm  before  approaching  dissolu- 
tion, is  a  very  ancient  one,  and  perhaps  can  never  be  totally 
driven  out :  yet  it  must  be  allowed  the  merit  of  adding  beauty 
to  poetry,  however  injurious  it  may  sometimes  prove  to  the 
weak  and  superstitious.  STEEVENS. 

*  Since  no  man,  of  aught  he  leaves,  /mows,  what  is't  to  leave 
betimes?"]  The  old  quarto  reads — Since  no  man,  of  aught  he 
leaves,  knows,  lohat  is't  to  leave  betimes?  Let  be.  This  is  the 
true  reading.  Here  the  premises  conclude  right,  and  the  argu- 
ment drawn  out  at  length  is  to  this  effect :  "  It  is  true,  that,  by 
death,  we  lose  all  the  goods  of  life ;  yet  seeing  this  loss  is  no 
otherwise  an  evil  than  as  we  are  sensible  of  it,  and  since  death 
removes  all  sense  of  it,  what  matters  it  how  soon  we  lose  them  ? 
Therefore  come  what  will,  I  am  prepared."  WAHBURTON. 

The  reading  of  the  quarto  was  right,  but  in  some  other  copy 
the  harshness  of  the  transposition  was  softened,  and  the  passage 


se.  u.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  367 

Enter  King,  Queen,  LAERTES,  Lords,  OSRIC,  and 
Attendants  with  Foils,  <§•?. 

KING.  Come,  Hamlet,  come,  and  take  this  hand 

from  me. 

[The  King  puts  the  Hand  of  LAERTES  into 
that  of  HAMLET. 

HAM.  Give  me  your  pardon,  sir : 3  I  have  done 

you  wrong ; 

But  pardon  it,  as  you  are  a  gentleman. 
This  presence  knows,  and  you  must  needs  have 

heard, 

How  I  am  punish'd  with  a  sore  distraction. 
What  I  have  done, 
That  might  your  nature,  honour,  and  exception, 


stood  thus : — Since  no  man  knows  aught  of  "what  lie  leaves.  For 
fcnoivs  was  printed  in  the  later  copies  has,  by  a  slight  blunder  in 
such  typographers. 

I  do  not  think  Dr.  Warburton's  interpretation  of  the  passage 
the  best  that  it  will  admit.  The  meaning  may  be  this, — Since 
no  man  knows  aught  o/'the  state  of  life  which  he  leaves,  since  he 
cannot  judge  what  other  years  may  produce,  why  should  he  be 
afraid  of  leaving  life  betimes  ?  Why  should  he  dread  an  early 
death,  of  which  he  cannot  tell  whether  it  is  an  exclusion  of  hap- 
piness, or  an  interception  of  calamity?  I  despise  the  superstition 
of  augury  and  omens,  which  has  no  ground  in  reason  or  piety ; 
my  comfort  is,  that  I  cannot  fall  but  by  the  direction  of  Provi- 
dence. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  has — Sines  no  man  owes  aught,  a  conjecture 
not  very  reprehensible.  Since  no  man  can  call  any  possession 
certain,  what  is  it  to  leave  ?  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Warburton  has  truly  stated  the  reading  of  the  first  quarto, 
16041.  The  folio  reads, — Since  no  man  has  ought  of  what  he 
leaves,  what  is't  to  leave  betimes  ? 

In  the  late  editions  neither  copy  has  been  followed.  MALONE. 

3  Give  me  your  pardon,  sir:"]  I  wish  Hamlet  had  made  some 
other  defence ;  it  is  unsuitable  to  the  character  of  a  good  or  a. 
brave  man,  to  shelter  himself  in  falsehood.  JOHNSON. 


368  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

Roughly  awake,  I  here  proclaim  was  madness. 

Was't  Hamlet  wrong'd  Laertes  ?  Never,  Hamlet : 

If  Hamlet  from  himself  be  ta'en  away, 

And,  when  he's  not  himself,  does  wrong  Laertes, 

Then  Hamlet  does  it  not,  Hamlet  denies  it. 

Who  does  it  then  ?   His  madness :  Ift  be  so, 

Hamlet  is  of  the  faction  that  is  wrong'd ; 

His  madness  is  poor  Hamlet's  enemy. 

Sir,4  in  this  audience, 

Let  my  disclaiming  from  a  purposed  evil 

Free  me  so  far  in  your  most  generous  thoughts, 

That  I  have  shot  my  arrow  o'er  the  house, 

And  hurt  my  brother. 

LAER.  I  am  satisfied  in  nature,5 

Whose  motive,  in  this  case,  should  stir  me  most 
To  my  revenge  :  but  in  my  terms  of  honour, 
I  stand  aloof;  and  will  no  reconcilement, 
Till  by  some  elder  masters,  of  known  honour,6 


4  Sir,  &c.]   This  passage  I  have  restored  from  the  folio. 

STEEVENS. 

4  /  am  satisfied  in  nature,  #c.]  This  was  a  piece  of  satire  on 
fantastical  honour.  Though  nature  is  satisfied,  yet  he  will  ask 
advice  of  older  men  of  the  sword,  whether  artificial  honour  ought 
to  be  contented  with  Hamlet's  submission. 

There  is  a  passage  somewhat  similar  in  The  Maid's  Tragedy: 
"  Eved.  Will  you  forgive  me  then  ? 
*'  Mel.  Stay,  I  must  ask  mine  honour  first."    STEEVENS. 

6  Till  by  some  elder  masters,  of  known  honour,']  This  is  said 
in  allusion  to  an  English  custom.  I  learn  from  an  ancient  MS. 
of  which  the  reader  will  find  a  more  particular  account  in  a  note 
to  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Vol.  V.  p.  32,  n.  8 ;  that  in 
Queen  Elizabeth's  time  there  were  "  four  ancient  masters  of  de- 
fence," in  the  city  of  London.  They  appear  to  have  been  the 
referees  in  many  affairs  of  honour,  and  exacted  tribute  from  all 
inferior  practitioners  of  the  art  of  fencing,  &c.  STEEVENS. 

Our  poet  frequently  alludes  to  English  customs,  and  may  have 
done  so  here,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  gentlemen  ever  submitted 


sc.n>        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  369 

I  have  a  voice  and  precedent  of  peace, 
To  keep  my  name  ungor'd :  But  till  that  time, 
I  do  receive  your  offer* d  love  like  love, 
And  will  not  wrong  it. 

HAM*  I  embrace  it  freely : 

And  will  this  brother's  wager  frankly  play. — 
Give  us  the  foils ;  come  oh. 

LAER.  Come,  one  for  me. 

HAM.  I'll  be  your  foil,  Laertes  ;  in  mine  igno- 
rance 

Your  skill  shall,  like  a  star  i'the  darkest  night, 
Stick  fiery  off  indeed.7 

LAJSR.  You  mock  me,  sir. 

HAM.  No,  by  this  hand. 

KING.  Give  them   the   foils,   young   Osric. — • 

Cousin  Hamlet, 
You  know  the  wager  ? 

HAM.  Very  well,  my  lord ; 

Your  grace  hath  laid  the  odds  o'the  weaker  side.* 


points  of  honour  to  persons  who  exhibited  themselves  for  money 
as  prize-fighters  on  the  publick  stage ;  though  they  might  appeal 
in  certain  cases  to  Raleigh,  Essex,  or  Southampton,  who  from 
their  high  rank,  their  course  of  life,  and  established  reputation, 
might  with  strict  propriety  be  styled,  "  elder  masters,  of  known 
honour."  MALONE. 

7 like  a  star  i'the  darkest  night, 

Stick  jiery  off"  indeed.]     So,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the 
twenty-second  Iliad  : 

" a  world  of  stars  &c. — 

" the  midnight  that  renders  them  most  showne, 

"  Then  being  their  foil ; — ."     STEEVENS. 

*  Your  grace  hath  laid  the  odds  o'the  weaker  side.]  When  the 
odds  were  on  the  side  of  Laertes,  who  was  to  hit  Hamlet  twelve 
times  to  nine,  it  was  perhaps  the  author's  slip.  Sir  T.  Hanmer 
reads — 

Your  grace  hath  laid  upon  the  weaker  side.    JOHNSON. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  B 


370  HAMLET,  ACT*. 

KING.  I  do  not  fear  it :  I  have  seen  you  both  :— 
But  since  he's  better'd,  we  have  therefore  odds.* 
LAER.  This  is  too  heavy,  let  me  see  another. 

HAM.  This  likes  me  well :  These  foils  have  all 
a  length  ?  [They  prepare  to  play. 

OSR.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

KING.  Set  me  the  stoups  of  wine '  upon  that 

table : — 

If  Hamlet  give  the  first  or  second  hit, 
Or  quit  in  answer  of  the  third  exchange, 
Let  all  the  battlements  their  ordnance  fire ; 


I  see  no  reason  for  altering  this  passage.  Hamlet  considers 
the  things  imponed  by  the  King,  as  of  more  value  than  those  im- 
poned  by  Laertes ;  and  therefore  says,  "  that  he  had  laid  the 
odds  on  the  weaker  side."  M.  MASON. 

Hamlet  either  means,  that  what  the  King  had  laid  was  more 
valuable  than  what  Laertes  staked ;  or  that  the  king  hath  made 
his  bet,  an  advantage  being  given  to  the  weaker  party.  I  be- 
lieve the  first  is  the  true  interpretation.  In  the  next  line  but  one 
the  word  odds  certainly  means  an  advantage  given  to  the  party, 
but  here  it  may  have  a  different  sense.  This  is  not  an  uncom- 
mon practice  with  our  poet.  MALOXE. 

The  King  had  wagered,  on  Hamlet,  six  Barbary  horses, 
against  a  few  rapiers,  poniards,  &c.  that  is,  about  twenty  to  one. 
These  are  the  odds  here  meant.  RITSON. 

9  But  since  he's  better* d,  we  have  therefore  odds.]  These  odds 
were  twelve  to  nine  in  favour  of  Hamlet,  by  Laertes  giving  him 
three.  RITSON. 

1 the  stoups  of  wine — "]     A  stoop  is  a  kind  ofjlagon. 

See  Vol.  V.  p.  287,  n.  2.     STEEVENS. 

Containing  somewhat  more  than  two  quarts.     MALONE. 

Stoup  is  a  common  word  in  Scotland  at  this  day,  and  denotes 
a  pewter  vessel,  resembling  our  wine  measure ;  but  of  no  deter- 
minate quantity,  that  being  ascertained  by  an  adjunct,  as  gallon" 
stoup,  pint-stoup,  mutchkin-stottp,  &c.  The  vessel  in  which  they 
fetch  or  keep  water  is  also  called  the  water-stoup.  A  stoup  of 
is  therefore  equivalent  to  a  pitcher  of  wine.  RITSON. 


sc.  ?r.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          371 

The  king  shall  drink  to  Hamlet's  better  breath; 
And  in  the  cup  an  union  shall  he  throw,8 
Richer  than  that  which  four  successive  kings 
In  Denmark's  crown  have  worn  ;  Give  me  the  cups  j 


*  And  in  the  cup  an  union  shall  he  throb))"]    In  some  editions : 

And  in  the  cup  an  onyx  shall  he  throw. 

This  is  a  various  reading  in  several  of  the  old  copies  ;  but  union 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  true  word.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  neither 
the  onyx,  nor  sardonyx,  are  jewels  which  ever  found  place  in  an 
imperial  crown.  An  union  is  the  finest  sort  of  pearl,  and  has 
its  place  in  all  crowns,  and  coronets.  Besides,  let  us  consider 
what  the  King  says  on  Hamlet's  giving  Laertes  the  first  hit : 

"  Stay,  give  me  drink.     Hamlet,  this  pearl  is  thine  ; 

"  Here's  to  thy  health." 

Therefore,  if  an  union  be  a  pearl,  and  an  onyx  a  gem,  or  stone, 
quite  differing  in  its  nature  from  pearls  ;  the  King  saying,  that 
Hamlet  has  earned  the  pearl,  I  think,  amounts  to  a  demonstra- 
tion that  it  was  an  union  pearl,  which  he  meant  to  throw  into 
the  cup.  THEOBALD. 

And  in  the  cup  an  union  shall  he  throw,"]  Thus  the  folio 
rightly.  In  the  first  quarto,  by  the  carelessness  of  the  printer, 
for  union  we  have  unice,  which  in  the  subsequent  quarto  copies 
was  made  onyx.  An  union  is  a  very  precious  pearl.  See  Bullo- 
kar's  English  Expositor,  1616,  and  Florio's  Italian  Dictionary, 
1598,  in  v.  MALONE. 

So,  in  Soliman  and  Perseda  : 

"  Ay,  were  it  Cleopatra's  union." 

The  union  is  thus  mentioned  in  P.  Holland's  translation  of  Pliny's 
Natural  History  :  "  And  hereupon  it  is  that  our  dainties  and  de- 
licates  here  at  Rome,  &c.  call  them  unions,  as  a  man  would  sny 
singular  and  by  themselves  alone." 

To  swallow  a  pearl  in  a  draught  seems  to  have  been  equally 
common  to  royal  and  mercantile  prodigality.  So,  in  the  Second 
Part  of  If  you  know  not  Me,  you  know  Nobody,  1606,  Sir  Tho- 
mas Gresham  says : 

**  Here  16,000  pound  at  one  clap  goes. 
"  Instead  of  sugar,  Gresham  drinks  this  pearle 
**  Unto  his  queen  and  mistress." 

It  may  be  observed,  however,  that  pearls  were  supposed  to  pos- 
sess an  exhilarating  quality.  Thus,  Rondelet.  Lib.  I.  de  Testae, 
c.  xv  :  *«  Uniones  quse  a  conchis  &c.  valde  cordiales  sunt." 

SXEEVENS. 

2  B  2 


372  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

And  let  the  kettle  to  the  trumpet  speak, 

The  trumpet  to  the  cannoneer  without, 

The  cannons  to  the  heavens,  the  heaven  to  earth, 

Now  the  king  drinks  to  Hamlet. — Come,  begin ; — 

And  you,  the  judges,  bear  a  wary  eye. 

HAM.  Come  on,  sir. 

LAER.            Come,  my  lord.  [  They  play. 

HAM.  One. 

LAER.  No. 

HAM.  Judgment. 

OSR.  A  hit,  a  very  palpable  hit. 

LAER.  Well, — again. 

KING.  Stay,  give  me  drink  :  Hamlet,  this  pearl 

is  thine  ;3 
Here's  to  thy  health. — Give  him  the  cup. 

[Trumpets  sound ;   and  Cannon  shot  off" within. 

HAM.  I'll  play  this  bout  first,  set  it  by  awhile. 
Come. — Another  hit ;  What  say  you  ?  [They play. 

LAER.  A  touch,  a  touch,  I  do  confess. 

KING.  Our  son  shall  win. 

QUEEN.  He's  fat,  and  scant  of  breath.4 — 

3 this  pearl  is  thine  ;~]     Under  pretence  of  throwing  a 

pearl  into  the  cup,  the  King  may  be  supposed  to  drop  some  poi- 
sonous drug  into  the  wine.  Hamlet  seems  to  suspect  this,  when 
he  afterwards  discovers  the  effects  of  the  poison,  and  tauntingly 
asks  him, — "  Is  the  union  here  ?"  STEEVENS. 

4  Queen.  He's  fat,  and  scant  of  breath."]  It  seems  that  John 
Lowin,  who  was  the  original  Falstqjf,  was  no  less  celebrated 
for  his  performance  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Hamlet.  See  the  Histo- 
ria  Histrionica,  &c.  If  he  was  adapted,  by  the  corpulence  of 
his  figure,  to  appear  with  propriety  in  the  two  former  of  these 
characters,  Shakspeare  might  have  put  this  observation  into  the 
mouth  of  her  majesty,  to  apologize  for  the  want  of  such  ele- 
gance of  person  as  an  audience  might  expect  to  meet  with  in  the 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          375 

Here,  Hamlet,  take  my  napkin,  rub  thy  brows : 
The  queen  carouses  to  thy  fortune,  Hamlet.5 

HAM.  Good  madam, 

KING.  Gertrude,  do  not  drink. 

QUEEN.   I  will,  my  lord  ; — I  pray  you,  pardon 
me. 

KING.  It  is  the  poison'd  cup  ;  it  is  too  late. 

[Aside. 

HAM.  I  dare  not  drink  yet,  madam ;  by  and  by. 
QUEEN.  Come,  let  me  wipe  thy  face.6 
LAER.  My  lord,  I'll  hit  him  now. 


representative  of  the  youthful  prince  of  Denmark,  whom  Ophe- 
lia speaks  of  as  "  the  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form." 
This,  however,  is  mere  conjecture,  as  Joseph  Taylor  likewise 
acted  Hamlet  during  the  life  of  Shakspeare. 

In  Ratsie's  Ghost,  (Gamaliel)  no  date,  about  1605,  bl.  1.  4°. 
the  second  part  of  his  madde  prankes  £c. — He  robs  a  company 
of  players.  "  Sirra,  saies  he  to  the  chiefest  of  them,  thou  hast 
a  good  presence  on  a  stage — get  thee  to  London,  for  if  one  man 
were  dead,  [Lowin,  perhaps,]  there  would  be  none  fitter  than 
thyself  to  play  his  parts — I  durst  venture  all  the  money  in  my 
purse  on  thy  head  to  play  Hamlet  with  him  for  a  wager."  He 
knights  him  afterwards,  and  bids  him — "  Rise  up,  Sir  Simon 
two  shares  &>  a  halfe."  I  owe  this  quotation  to  one  of  Dr.  Far- 
mer's memoranda.  STEEVENS. 

The  author  of  Historia  Histrionica,  and  Downes  the  promp- 
ter, concur  in  saying,  that  Taylor  was  the  performer  of  Hamlet. 
Roberts  the  player  alone  has  asserted,  (apparently  without  any 
authority,)  that  this  part  was  performed  by  Lowin.  MALONE. 

5  The  queen  carouses  to  thy  fortune,  Hamlet.^   i.  e.  (in  hum- 
bler language)  drinks  good  luck  to  you.  A  similar  phrase  occurs 
in  David  and  Bethsabe,  1599  : 

"  With  full  carouses  to  his  fortune  past."     STEEVENS. 

6  Come,  let  me  wipe  thy  face.']     These  very  words  (the  pre- 
sent repetition  of  which  might  have  been  spared)  are  addressed 
by  Doll  Tearsheet  to  Falstaff,  when  he  was  heated  by  his  pursuit 
of  Pistol.     See  Vol.  XII.  p.  98.     STEEVENS. 


374  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

KING.  I  do  not  think  it. 

LAER.  And  yet  it  is  almost  against  my  con- 
science. \_Aside. 

HAM.  Come,  for  the  third,  Laertes :  You  do  but 

dally; 

I  pray  you,  pass  with  your  best  violence  ; 
I  am  afeard,  you  make  a  wanton  of  me.7 

LAER.  Say  you  so  ?  come  on.  [They  play. 

OSR.  Nothing  neither  way. 
LAER.  Have  at  you  now. 

[LAERTES   wounds  HAMLET;    then,   in  scuf- 
fling,  they  change  Rapiers,  and  HAMLET 
wounds  LAERTES. 

KING.  Part  them,  they  are  incens'd. 

HAM.  Nay,  come  again.         [The  Queen  falls. 


7  — —  you  make  a  wanton  of  me.~]  A  wanton  was  a  man 
feeble  and  effeminate.  In  Cymbeline,  Imogen  says,  I  am  not— • 

" so  citizen  a  wanton,  as 

"  To  seem  to  die,  ere  sick."     JOHNSON. 

Rather,  you  trifle  with  me  as  if  you  were  playing  with  a  child. 
So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

«« I  would  have  thee  gone, 

**  And  yet  no  further  than  a  wanton's  bird, 

"  That  lets  it  hop  a  little  from  her  hand, 

"  And  with  a  silk  thread  pulls  it  back  again."     RITSON. 

A  passage  in  King  John  shows  that  wanton  here  means  a  man 
feeble  and  effeminate,  as  Dr.  Johnson  has  explained  it: 

" Shall  a  beardless  boy, 

'*  A  cocker' d  silken  wanton,  brave  our  fields, 

"  And  flesh  his  spirit  in  a  warlike  soil,"  &c.     MALONE. 

The  following  passage  in  the  first  scene  of  Lee's  Alexander 
the  Great,  may  furnish  a  sufficient  comment  on  the  words  of 
Hamlet : 

"  He  dallied  with  my  point,  and  when  I  thrust, 
"  He  frown'd  and  smil'd,  and  foil'd  me  like  a  fencer." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.       PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  875 

OSR.  Look  to  the  queen  there,  ho ! 

HOR.  They  bleed  on  both  sides  :  —  How  is  it, 
my  lord  ? 

OSR.  How  is't,  Laertes  ? 

LAER.  Why,  as  a  woodcock  to  my  own  springe, 

Osric  ; 
I  am  justly  kill'd  with  mine  own  treachery. 

HAM.  How  does  the  queen  ? 

KING.  She  swoons  to  see  them  bleed. 

QUEEN.  No,  no,  the  drink,  the  drink, — O  my 

dear  Hamlet ! — 
The  drink,  the  drink ; — I  am  poison* d  !        \_Dies. 

HAM.  O  villainy ! — Ho !  let  the  door  be  lock'd: 
Treachery !  seek  it  out.  [LAERTES  falls. 

LAER.  It  is  here,  Hamlet :  Hamlet,  thou  art 

slain ; 

No  medicine  in  the  world  can  do  thee  good, 
In  thee  there  is  not  half  an  hour's  life ; 
The  treacherous  instrument  is  in  thy  hand, 
Unbated,  and  envenom' d  :  the  foul  practice 
Hath  turn'd  itself  on  me  ;  lo,  here  I  lie, 
Never  to  rise  again :  Thy  mother's  poison'd ; 
I  can  no  more ;  the  king,  the  king's  to  blame. 

HAM.  The  point 
Envenom'd  too  ! — Then,  venom,  to  thy  work. 

[Stabs  the  King. 

OSR.  Sf  LORDS.  Treason !  treason ! 

KING.  O,  yet  defend  me,  friends,  I  am  but  hurt. 

HAM.  Here, thou  incestuous,  murd'rous,  damned 
Dane, 


376  HAMLET, 

Drink  off  this  potion  : — Is  the  union  here  ?8 
Follow  my  mother.  [King  dies, 

LAER.  He  is  justly  serv'd ; 

It  is  a  poison  temper'd  by  himself. — 
Exchange  forgiveness  with  me,  noble  Hamlet : 
Mine  and  my  father's  death  come  not  upon  thee; 
Nor  thine  on  me !  [Dies. 

HAM.  Heaven  make  thee  free  of  it!  I  follow  thee. 
I  am  dead,  Horatio  : — Wretched  queen,  adieu ! — \ 
You  that  look  pale  and  tremble  at  this  chance, 
That  are  but  mutes  or  audience  to  this  act,9 
Had  I  but  time,  (as  this  fell  sergeant,  death, 
Is  strict  in  his  arrest,)1  O,  I  could  tell  you, — 
But  let  it  be  : — Horatio,  I  am  dead ; 
Thou  liv'st ;  report  me  and  my  cause  aright 
To  the  unsatisfied. 

HOR.  Never  believe  it ; 

I  am  more  an  antique  Roman  than  a  Dane, 
Here's  yet  some  liquor  left. 

HAM.  As  thou'rt  a  man, — 

8 Is  the  union  here'?']     In  this  place  likewise  the  quarto 

reads,  an  onyx.     STEEVENS. 

Is  the  union  here  ?~\  Thus  the  folio.  In  a  former  passage 

in  the  quarto,  1604-,  for  union  we  had  unice;  here  it  has  onyx. 

It  should  seem  from  this  line,  and  Laertes's  next  speech,  that 
Hamlet  here  forces  the  expiring  King  to  drink  some  of  the  poi- 
soned cup,  and  that  he  dies  while  it  is  at  his  lips.  MALONE. 

9  That  are  but  mutes  or  audience  to  this  act,~]  That  are  ei- 
ther auditors  of  this  catastrophe,  or  at  most  only  mute  performers* 
that  fill  the  stage  without  any  part  in  the  action.  JOHNSON. 

1 (as  this  fell  sergeant,  death, 

Is  strict  in  his  arrest,)]     So,  in  our  poet's  74-th  Sonnet : 

"  -    when  that  fell  arrest, 

"  Without  all  bail,  shall  carry  me  away, — ."     MALQNE, 

A  serjeant  is  a  bailiff,  or  sheriffs  officer.     RITSON. 


sc.  n.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          377 

Give  me  the  cup ;  let  go  ;  by  heaven  I'll  have  it. — 
O  God! — Horatio,2  what  a  wounded  name, 
Things  standing  thus  unknown,  shall  live  behind 

me  ?3 

If  thou  didst  ever  hold  me  in  thy  heart, 
Absent  thee  from  felicity  awhile, 
And  in  this  harsh  world  draw  thy  breath  in  pain, 
To  tell  my  story. — 

\_March  afar  off,  and  Shot  within. 
What  warlike  noise  is  this  ? 

OSR.    Young  Fortinbras,  with  conquest  come 

from  Poland, 

To  the  ambassadors  of  England  gives 
This  warlike  volley. 

HAM.  O,  I  die,  Horatio  ; 

The  potent  poison  quite  o'er-crows  my  spirit;4 


2  O  God  I— Horatio,  &c.]  Thus  the  quarto,  1604.  Folio: 
O  good  Horatio.  MALONE. 

3 shall  live  behind  me  ?~]     Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos 

read — shall  I  leave  behind  me.     STEEVENS. 

4  The  potent  poison  quite  o'er-crows  my  spirit ;]  Thus  the  first 
quarto,  and  the  first  folio.  Alluding,  I  suppose,  to  a  victorious 
cock  exulting  over  his  conquered  antagonist.  The  same  word 
occurs  in  Lingua,  &c.  1607  : 

"  Shall  I  ?  th'  embassadress  of  gods  and  men, 
"  That  pull'd  proud  Phoebe  from  her  brightsome  sphere, 
"  And  dark'd  Apollo's  countenance  with  a  word, 
"  Be  over-cro'w'd,  and  breathe  without  revenge  ?" 
Again,  in  Hall's  Satires,  Lib.  V.  Sat.  ii : 

"  Like  the  vain  bubble  of  Iberian  pride, 
"  That  over-croweth  all  the  world  beside." 
This  phrase  often  occurs  in  the  controversial  pieces  of  Gabriel 
Harvey,  1593,  &c.     It  is  also  found  in  Chapman's  translation  of* 
the  twenty -first  Book  of  Homer's  Odyssey  : 

" and  told  his  foe 

"  It  was  not  fair,  nor  equal,  t'  overcrow 
"  The  poorest  guest — ."     STEEVENS. 

This  word,  [o'er-cnntw]  for  which  Mr.  Pope  and  succeeding 


378  HAMLET, 

I  cannot  live  to  hear  the  news  from  England  : 

But  I  do  prophecy  the  election  lights 

On  Fortinbras ;  he  has  my  dying  voice ; 

So  tell  him,  with  the  occurrents,5  more  or  less, 

Which  have  solicited,6 — The  rest  is  silence.  [Dies. 

Hon.  Now  cracks  a  noble  heart ; — Good  night, 
sweet  prince ; 


editors  have  substituted  over-grow*,  is  used  by  Holinshed  injiis 
History  of  Ireland :  "  These  noblemen  laboured  with  tooth  and 
nayle  to  over-crow,  and  consequently  to  overthrow,  one  ano- 
ther." 

Again,  in  the  epistle  prefixed  to  Nashe's  Apologie  of  Pierce 
Pennilesse,  1593:  "About  two  yeeres  since  a  certayne  demi-di- 
vine  took  upon  him  to  set  his  foote  to  mine,  and  over-crowe  me 
with  comparative  terms." 

I  find  the  reading  which  Mr.  Pope  and  the  subsequent  editors 
adopted,  (o'ergrows,)  was  taken  from  a  late  quarto  of  no  autho- 
rity, printed  in  1637.  MALONE. 

The  accepted  reading  is  the  more  quaint,  the  rejected  one  the 
more  elegant  of  the  two ;  at  least  Mr.  Rowe  has  given  the  latter 
to  his  dying  Amestris  in  The  Ambitious  Stepmother  : 
"  The  gloom  grows  o'er  me."     STEEVENS. 

*  '••'••  the  occurrents,]  i.  e.  incidents.  The  word  is  now  dis- 
used. So,  in  The  Hog  hath  lost  his  Pearl,  1614 : 

"  Such  strange  occurrents  of  my  fore-past  life." 
Again,  in  The  Barons'  Wars,  by  Drayton,  Canto  I  : 
"  With  each  occurrent,  right  in  his  degree." 
Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  twenty-fourth  Iliad; 

"  Of  good  occurrents  and  none  ill  am  I  ambassadresse." 

STEEVENS. 

e  Which  have  solicited,]     Solicited  for  brought  on  the  event. 

WARBURTON. 

Warburton  says,  that  solicited  means  brought  on  the  event ; 
but  that  is  a  meaning  the  word  cannot  import.  That  have  soli- 
cited, means  that  have  excited ;  but  the  sentence  is  left  imper- 
fect. M.  MASON. 

What  Hamlet  would  have  said,  the  poet  has  not  given  us  any 
ground  for  conjecturing.  The  words  seem  to  mean  no  more  than 
— which  have  incited  me  to — .  MALONE. 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          379 

And  flights  of  angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest!7 

7  JVbto  cracks  a  noble  heart  ; — Good  night,  sweet  prince  j 

And  flights  of  angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest!']     So,  in  Pericles, 
Prince  of  Tyre,  1609  : 

"  If  thou  liv'st,  Pericles,  thou  hast  a  hearty 
"  That  even  cracks  for  woe." 

The  concluding  words  of  the  unfortunate  Lord  Essex's  prayer 
on  the  scaffold  were  these :  **  — and  when  my  life  and  body  shall 
part,  send  thy  blessed  angels,  which  may  receive  my  soule,  and 
convey  it  to  the  joys  of  heaven." 

Hamlet  had  certainly  been  exhibited  before  the  execution  of 
that  amiable  nobleman ;  but  the  words  here  given  to  -Horatio 
might  have  been  one  of  the  many  additions  made  to  this  play. 
As  no  copy  of  an  earlier  date  than  1604-  has  yet  been  discovered, 
whether  Lord  Essex's  last  words  were  in  our  author's  thoughts, 
cannot  be  now  ascertained.  MALONE. 

And  flights  of  angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest.'"]  Rather  from 
Marston's  Insatiate  Countess,  1603  : 

"  An  host  of  angels  be  thy  convey  hence  !"  STEEVENS. 

Let  us  review  for  a  moment  the  behaviour  of  Hamlet,  on  the 
strength  of  which  Horatio  founds  this  eulogy,  and  recommends 
him  to  the  patronage  of  angels. 

Hamlet,  at  the  command  of  his  father's  ghost,  undertakes 
with  seeming  alacrity  to  revenge  the  murder  ;  and  declares  he 
will  banish  all  other  thoughts  from  his  mind.  He  makes,  how- 
ever, but  one  effort  to  keep  his  word,  and  that  is,  when  he  mis- 
takes Polonius  for  the  King.  On  another  occasion,  he  defers 
his  purpose  till  he  can  find  an  opportunity  of  taking  his  uncle 
when  he  is  least  prepared  for  death,  that  he  may  insure  damnation 
to  his  soul.  Though  he  assassinated  Polonius  by  accident,  yet  he 
deliberately  procures  the  execution  of  his  school-fellows,  Rosen- 
crantz  andGuildenstern,  who  appear  not,  from  any  circumstances 
in  this  play,  to  have  been  acquainted  with  the  treacherous  pur- 
poses of  the  mandate  they  were  employed  to  carry.  To  embitter 
their  fate,  and  hazard  their  punishment  beyond  the  grave,  he 
denies  them  even  the  few  moments  necessary  for  a  brief  confession 
of  their  sins.  Their  end  (as  he  declares  in  a  subsequent  conver- 
sation with  Horatio)  gives  him  no  concern,  for  they  obtruded 
themselves  into  the  service,  and  he  thought  he  had  a  right  to  de- 
stroy them.  From  his  brutal  conduct  toward  Ophelia,  he  is  not 
less  accountable  for  her  distraction  and  death.  He  interrupts  the 
funeral  designed  in  honour  of  this  lady,  at  which  both  the  King 
and  Queen  were  present ;  and,  by  such  an  outrage  to  decency, 


380  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

Why  does  the  drum  come  hither  ?  [March  within. 

renders  it  still  more  necessary  for  the  usurper  to  lay  a  second 
stratagem  for  his  life,  though  the  first  had  proved  abortive.  He 
insults  the  brother  of  the  dead,  and  boasts  of  an  affection  for 
his  sister,  which,  before,  he  had  denied  to  her  face ;  and  yet  at 
this  very  time  must  be  considered  as  desirous  of  supporting  the 
character  of  a  madman,  so  that  the  openness  of  his  confession  is 
not  to  be  imputed  to  him  as  a  virtue.  He  apologizes  to  Hora- 
tio afterwards  for  the  absurdity  of  this  behaviour,  to  which,  he 
says,  he  was  provoked  by  that  nobleness  of  fraternal  grief, 
•which,  indeed,  he  ought  rather  to  have  applauded  than  con- 
demned. Dr.  Johnson  has  observed,  that  to  bring  about  a  re- 
conciliation with  Laertes,  he  has  availed  himself  of  a  dishonest 
fallacy ;  and  to  conclude,  it  is  obvious  to  the  most  careless  spec- 
tator or  reader,  that  he  kills  the  King  at  last  to  revenge  himself, 
and  not  his  father. 

Hamlet  cannot  be  said  to  have  pursued  his  ends  by  very  war- 
rantable means  ;  and  if  the  poet,  when  he  sacrificed  him  at  last, 
meant  to  have  enforced  such  a  moral,  it  is  not  the  worst  that 
can  be  deduced  from  the  play ;  for,  as  Maximus,  in  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher's  Valentinian,  says — 

"  Although  his  justice  were  as  white  as  truth, 

"  His  way  was  crooked  to  it;  that  condemns  him." 

The  late  Dr.  Akenside  once  observed  to  me,  that  the  conduct 
of  Hamlet  was  every  way  unnatural  and  indefensible,  unless  he 
were  to  be  regarded  as  a  young  man  whose  intellects  were  in 
some  degree  impaired  by  his  own  misfortunes ;  by  the  death  of 
his  father,  the  loss  of  expected  sovereignty,  and  a  sense  of  shame 
resulting  from  the  hasty  and  incestuous  marriage  of  his  'mother. 

1  have  dwelt  the  longer  on  this  subject,  because  Hamlet  seems 
to  have  been  hitherto  regarded  as  a  hero  not  undeserving  the 
pity  of  the  audience;  and  because  no  writer  on  Shakspeare  has 
taken  the  pains  to  point  out  the  immoral  tendency  of  his  cha- 
racter. STEEVENS, 

Mr.  Ritson  controverts  the  justice  of  Mr.  Steevens's  strictures 
on  the  character  of  Hamlet,  which  he  undertakes  to  defend. 
The  arguments  he  makes  use  of  for  this  purpose  are  too  long  to 
be  here  inserted,  and  therefore  I  shall  content  myself  with  re- 
ferring to  them.  See  REMARKS,  p.  217  to  224.  REED. 

Some  of  the  charges  here  brought  against  Hamlet  appear  to 
me  questionable  at  least,  if  not  unfounded.  I  have  already  ob- 
served that  in  the  novel  on  which  this  play  is  constructed,  the 
ministers  who  by  the  king's  order  accompanied  the  young  prince 
to  England,  and  carried  with  them  a  packet  in  which  his  death 


sc.  n.         PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          ssi 


JEnter  FORTINBRAS,  the  English  Ambassadors,  and 
Others. 

FORT.  Where  is  this  sight  ? 

HOR.  What  is  it,  you  would  see  ? 

was  concerted,  were  apprized  of  its  contents;  and  therefore  we 
may  presume  that  Shakspeare  meant  to  describe  their  represen- 
tatives, Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  as  equally  criminal ;  as 
combining  with  the  King  to  deprive  Hamlet  of  his  life.  His 
procuring  their  execution  therefore  does  not  with  certainty  ap- 
pear to  have  been  unprovoked  cruelty,  and  might  have  been  con- 
sidered by  him  as  necessary  to  his  future  safety  ;  knowing,  as  he 
must  have  known,  that  they  had  devoted  themselves  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  King  in  whatever  he  should  command.  The  princi- 
ple on  which  he  acted,  is  ascertained  by  the  following  lines, 
from  which  also  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  poet  meant  to  re- 
present Hamlet's  school-fellows  as  privy  to  the  plot  against  hi» 
life: 

There's  letters  seal'd:  and  my  two  school-fellows — 
Whom  I  will  trust  as  I  will  adders  fang'd, 
They  bear  the  mandate  ;  they  must  sweep  my  way, 
And  marshall  me  to  knavery :  Let  it  work, 
For  'tis  the  sport,  to  have  the  engineer 
Hoist  with  his  own  petar  ;  and  it  shall  go  hard, 
But  I  will  delve  one  yard  below  their  mines, 
**  And  blorv  them  to  the  moon." 

Another  charge  is,  that "  he  comes  *  to  disturb  the  funeral  of 
Ophelia:"  but  the  fact  is  otherwise  represented  in  the  first  scene 
of  the  fifth  Act :  for  when  the  funeral  procession  appears,  ( which 
he  does  not  seek,  but  finds,)  he  exclaims — 

"  The  queen,  the  courtiers  :  who  is  this  theyjbllow, 
"  And  with  such  maimed  rites?" 

nor  does  he  know  it  to  be  the  funeral  of  Ophelia,  till  Laertes 
mentions  that  the  dead  body  was  that  of  his  sister. 

I  do  not  perceive  that  he  is  accountable  for  the  madness  of 
Ophelia.  He  did  not  mean  to  kill  her  father  when  concealed 
behind  the  arras,  but  the  King  ;  and  still  less  did  he  intend  to 
deprive  her  of  her  reason  and  her  life :  her  subsequent  distraction 
therefore  can  no  otherwise  be  laid  to  his  charge,  than  as  an  un- 

*  — —  he  comes — ]  The  words  stood  thus  in  edit.  17*78,  &G.     STEEVESS. 


382  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

If  aught  of  woe,  or  wonder,  cease  your  search. 

FORT.  This  quarry  cries  on  havock ! 8 — O  proud 

death! 
What  feast  is  toward  in  thine  eternal  cell,9 

foreseen  consequence  from  his  too  ardently  pursuing  the  object 
recommended  to  him  by  his  father. 

He  appears  to  have  been  induced  to  leap  into  Ophelia's  grave, 
not  with  a  design  to  insult  Laertes,  but  from  his  love  to  her, 
(which  then  he  had  no  reason  to  conceal,)  and  from  the  bravery 
of  her  brother's  grief,  which  excited  him  (not  to  condemn  that 
brother,  as  has  been  stated,  but)  to  vie  with  him  in  the  expres- 
sion of  affection  and  sorrow  : 

"  Why,  I  will  fight  with  him  upon  this  theme, 
"  Until  my  eyelids  will  no  longer  wag. — 
"  I  lov'd  Ophelia ;  forty  thousand  brothers 
"  Could  not  with  all  their  quantity  of  love 
"  Make  up  my  sum." 

When  Hamlet  says,  '*  the  bravery  of  his  grief  did  put  me 
into  a  towering  passion,"  I  think,  he  means,  into  a  lofty  ex- 
pression (not  of  resentment ,  but)  of  sorrow.  So,  in  King  John, 
Vol.  X.  p.  406,  n.  4. 

"  She  is  sad  and  passionate  at  your  highness*  tent." 
Again,  more  appositely  in  the  play  before  us : 

"  The  instant  burst  of  clamour  that  she  made, 
"  ( Unless  things  mortal  move  them  not  at  all, ) 
'*  Would  have  made  milch  the  burning  eyes  of  heaven, 
"  And  passion  in  the  gods." 

I  may  also  add,  that  he  neither  assaulted,  nor  insulted  Laertes, 
till  that  nobleman  had  cursed  him,  and  seized  him  by  the  throat. 

MALONE. 

1  This  quarry  cries  on  havock /]     Sir  T.  Haumer  reads : 
cries  out,  havock! 

To  cry  on,  was  to  exclaim  against.  I  suppose,  when  unfair 
sportsmen  destroyed  more  quarry  or  game  than  was  reasonable, 
the  censure  was  to  cry,  Havock.  JOHNSON. 

We  have  the  same  phraseology  in  Othello,  Act  V.  sc .  i : 

" Whose  noise  is  this,  that  cries  on  murder  ?" 

See  the  note  there.     MALONE. 

0  What  feast  is  toward  in  thine  eternal  crU,"]  Shakspeare  has 
already  employed  this  allusion  to  the  Choec,  or  feasts  of  the 
dead,  which  were  anciently  celebrated  at  Athens,  and  are  men- 
tioned by  Plutarch  in  The  Lift  of  Antonius.  Our  author  like- 


sc.  ii.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.          383 

That  thou  so  many  princes,  at  a  shot, 
So  bloodily  hast  struck  ? 

1  AMB.  The  sight  is  dismal ; 

And  our  affairs  from  England  come  too  late : 
The  ears  are  senseless,  that  should  give  us  hearing, 
To  tell  him,  his  commandment  is  fulfilPd, 
That  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  are  dead : 
Where  should  we  have  our  thanks  ? 

HOR.  Not  from  his  mouth,1 

Had  it  the  ability  of  life  to  thank  you ; 
He  never  gave  commandment  for  their  death. 
But  since,  so  jump  upon  this  bloody  question, 
You  from  the  Polack  wars,  and  you  from  England, 
Are  here  arriv'd ;  give  order,  that  these  bodies 
High  on  a  stage  be  placed  to  the  view  j2 
And  let  me  speak,  to  the  yet  unknowing  world, 
How  these  things  come  about :  So  shall  you  hear 
Of  carnal,  bloody,  and  unnatural  acts ; 3 

wise  makes  Talbot  say  to  his  son  in  The  First  Part  of  King 
Henry  VI : 

"  Now  art  thou  come  unto  a  feast  of  death." 

STEEVENS. 

1 his  mouth,']  i.  e.  the  king's.     STEEVENS. 

2 give  order,  that  these  bodies 

High  on  a  stage  be  placed  to  the  view  ;]  This  idea  was  ap- 
parently taken  from  Arthur  Brooke's  Tragicall  Hy story  of  Ro- 
meus  and  Juliet,  1562 : 

"  The  prince  did  straight  ordaine,  the  corses  that  wer 

founde, 

**  Should  be  set  forth  upon  a  stage  hye  raysed  from  the 
grounde,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

3  Of  carnal,  bloody,  and  unnatural  acts;~]  Carnal  is  a  word 
used  by  Shakspeare  as  an  adjective  to  carnage.  RITSON. 

Of  sanguinary  and  unnatural  acts,  to  which  the  perpetrator 
was  instigated  by  concupiscence,  or,  to  use  ourpoet'sown  words, 
by  "  carnal  stings."  The  speaker  alludes  to  the  murder  of  old 
Hamlet  by  his  brother,  previous  to  his  incestuous  union  with 
Gertrude.  A  Remarker  asks,  "  was  the  relationship  between 


384  HAMLET,  ACT  r. 

Of  accidental  judgments,  casual  slaughters; 
Of  deaths  put  on4  by  cunning,  and  forc'd  cause  j5 
And,  in  this  upshot,  purposes  mistook 
Fall'n  on  the  inventors'  heads :  all  this  can  I 
Truly  deliver. 

FORT.  Let  us  haste  to  hear  it, 

And  call  the  noblest  to  the  audience. 
For  me,  witli  sorrow  I  embrace  my  fortune ; 
I  have  some  rights  of  memory  in  this  kingdom,6 
Which  now  to  claim  my  vantage  doth  invite  me. 

HOR.  Of  that  I  shall  have  also  cause  to  speak, 
And  from  his  mouth  whose  voice  will  draw  on  more:7 

the  usurper  and  the  deceased  king  a  secret  confined  to  Horatio?" 
— No,  but  the  murder  of  Hamlet  by  Claudius  was  a  secret  which 
the  young  prince  had  imparted  to  Horatio,  and  had  imparted  to 
him  alone ;  and  to  this  it  is  he  principally,  though  covertly, 
alludes.  —  Carnal  is  the  reading  of  the  only  authentick  copies, 
the  quarto  1604,  and  the  folio  1623.  The  modern  editors,  fol- 
lowing a  quarto  of  no  authority,  for  carnal,  read  cruel. 

MALONE. 

The  edition  immediately  preceding  that  of  Mr.  Malone,  reads 
"-carnal,  and  not  cruel,  as  here  asserted.  REED. 

4  Of  deaths  put  on — ]  i.  e.  instigated,  produced.  See  Vol. 
XVI.  p.  115,  n.  1.  MALONE. 

* and  forc'd  cause  ;]  Thus  the  folio.     The  quartos  read 

—  andybr  no  cause.     STEEVENS. 

6 some  rights  of  memory  in  this  kingdom,']   Some  rights, 

which  are  remembered  in  this  kingdom.     MALONE. 

7  And  from  his  mouth  whose  voice  will  draw  on  more:"]  No 
is  the  reading  of  the  old  quartos,  but  certainly  a  mistaken  one. 
We  say,  a  man  will  no  more  draw  breath;  but  that  a  man's 
voice  will  draw  no  more,  is,  I  believe,  an  expression  without 
any  authority.  I  choose  to  espouse  the  reading  of  the  elder 
folio : 

And  from  his  mouth  whose  voice  will  draw  on  more. 
And  this  is  the  poet's  reading.     Hamlet,  just  before  his  death, 
had  said : 

"  But  I  do  prophecy,  the  election  lights 
"  On  Fortinbras :  he  has  my  dying  voice  ; 
"  So  tell  him,"  &c. 


sc.  II.        PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  385 

But  let  this  same  be  presently  performed* 

Even  while  men's  minds  are  wild  ;  lest  more  mis- 

chance, 
On  plots,  and  errors,  happen. 

.    FORT.  Let  four  captains 

Bear  Hamlet,  like  a  soldier,  to  the  stage  ; 
For  he  was  likely,  had  he  been  put  on, 
To  have  prov'd  most  royally  :  and,  for  his  passage, 
The  soldiers'  musick,  and  the  rites  of  war, 
Speak  loudly  for  him.— 
Take  up  the  bodies  :  —  Such  a  sight  as  this 
Becomes  the  field,  but  here  shows  much  amiss. 
Go,  bid  the  soldiers  shoot.  \_A  dead  March. 

\_Rxeunt  L,  bearing  off  the  dead  Bodies  ;  after 
which,  a  Peal  of  Ordnance  is  shot  off.9 


Accordingly,  Horatio  here  delivers  that  message  ;  and  very  justly 
infers  that  Hamlet's  voice  will  be  seconded  by  others,  and  pro- 
cure them  in  favour  of  Fortinbras's  succession.  THEOBALD. 

9  If  the  dramas  of  Shakspeare  were  to  be  characterised,  each 
by  the  particular  excellence  which  distinguishes  it  from  the  rest, 
we  must  allow  to  the  tragedy  of  Hamlet  the  praise  of  variety. 
The  incidents  are  so  numerous,  that  the  argument  of  the  play 
would  make  a  long  tale.  The  scenes  are  interchangeably  diver- 
sified with  merriment  and  solemnity  :  with  merriment  that  in- 
cludes judicious  and  instructive  observations  ;  and  solemnity  not 
strained  by  poetical  violence  above  the  natural  sentiments  of 
man.  New  characters  appear  from  time  to  time  in  continual 
succession,  exhibiting  various  forms  of  life  and  particular  modes 
of  conversation.  The  pretended  madness  of  Hamlet  causes 
much  mirth,  the  mournful  distraction  of  Ophelia  fills  the  heart 
with  tenderness,  and  every  personage  produces  the  effect  in- 
tended, from  the  apparition  that  in  the  first  Act  chills  the  blood 
with  horror,  to  the  fop  in  the  last,  that  exposes  affectation  to  just 
contempt. 

The  conduct  is  perhaps  not  wholly  secure  against  objections. 
The  action  is  indeed  for  the  most  part  in  continual  progression, 
but  there  are  some  scenes  which  neither  forward  nor  retard  it. 
Of  the  feigned  madness  of  Hamlet  there  appears  no  adequate 
cause,  for  he  does  nothing  which  he  might  not  have  done  with 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  C 


S86  HAMLET, 

the  reputation  of  sanity.  He  plays  the  madman  most,  when  he 
treats  Ophelia  with  so  much  rudeness,  which  seems  to  be  use- 
less and  wanton  cruelty. 

Hamlet  is,  through  the  whole  piece,  rather  an  instrument  than 
an  agent.  After  he  has,  by  the  stratagem  of  the  play,  convicted 
the.  Kin{£,  he  makes  no  attempt  to  punish  him ;  and  his  death  is 
at  last  effected  by  an  incident  which  Hamlet  had  no  part  in  pro- 
ducing. 

The  catastrophe  is  not  very  happily  produced ;  the  exchange 
of  weapons  is  rather  ah  expedient  of  necessity,  than  a  stroke  of 
*krt.  A  scheme  might  easily  be  formed  to  kill  Hamlet  with  the 
dagger,  arid  Laertes  with  the  bowl. 

The  poet  is  accused  of  having -shown  little  regard  to  poetical 
justice,  and  may  be  charged  with  equal  neglect  of  poetical  pro- 
bability. The  apparition  left  the  regions  of  the  dead  to  little 
purpose ;  the  revenge  which  he  demands  is  not  obtained,  but 
by  the  death  of  him  that  was  required  to  take  it ;  and  the  gra- 
tification, which  would  arise  from  the  destruction  of  an  usurper 
and  a  murderer,  is  abated  by  the  untimely  death  of  Ophelia, 
the  young,  the  beautiful,  the  harmless,  and  the  pious. 

JOHNSON. 

.  The  levity  of  behaviour  which  Hamlet  assumes  immediately 
after  the  disappearance  of  the  Ghost  in  the  first  Act,  [sc.  v.]  has 
been  objected  to ;  but  the  writer  of  some  sensible  Remarks  on 
this  tragedy,  published  in  1736,  justly  observes,  that  the  poet's 
object  there  was,  that  Marcellus  "  might  not  imagine  that  the 
Ghost  had  revealed  to  Hamlet  some  matter  of  great  consequence 
to  him,  and  that  he  might  not  therefore  be  suspected  of  any  deep 
design.*' 

**  I  have  heard  (adds  the  same  writer)  many  persons  wonder, 
why  the  poet  should  bring  in  this  Ghost  in  complete  armour.— 
I  think  these  reasons  may  be  given  for  it.  We  are  to  consider, 
that  he  could  introduce  him  in  these  dresses  only  ;  in  his  regal 
dress,  in  a  habit  of  interment,  in  a  common  habit,  or  in  some 
fantastick  one  of  his  own  invention.  Now  let  us  examine,  which 
was  most  likely  to  affect  the  spectators  with  passions  proper  oft 
the  occasion. 

**  The  regal  habit  has  nothing  uncommon  in  it,  nor  surpri- 
sing, nor  could  it  give  rise  to  any  fine  images.  The  habit  of  in- 
terment was  something  too  horrible ;  for  terror,  not  horror,  is 
to  be  raised  in  the  spectators.  The  common  habit  (or  habit  de 
tolle,  as  the  French  call  it,)  was  by  no  means  proper  for  the 
occasion.  It  remains  then  that  the  poet  should  choose  some  ha- 
bit from  his  own  brain:  but  this  certainly  could  not  be  proper, 
•because  invention  in  such  a  case  would  be  so  much  in  danger  of 
falling,  into  the  grotesque,  that  it  was  not  to  be  hazarded. 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK. 

%i  Now  as  to  the  armour,  it  was  very  suitable  to  a  king  who  is 
described  as  a  great  warrior,  and  is  very  particular ;  and  conse- 
quently affects  the  spectators  without  being  fantastick. — 

"  The  King  spurs  on  his  son  to  revenge  his  foul  and  unnatural 
murder,  from  these  two  considerations  chiefly ;  that  he  was  sent 
into  the  other  world  without  having  had  time  to  repent  of  his 
sins,  and  without  the  necessary  sacraments,  according  to  the 
church  of  Rome,  and  that  consequently  his  soul  was  to  suffer,  if 
not  eternal  damnation,  at  least  a  long  course  of  penance  in  pur- 
gatory ;  which  aggravates  the  circumstances  of  his  brother's  bar- 
barity ;  and  secondly,  that  Denmark  might  not  be  the  scene  of 
usurpation  and  incest,  and  the  throne  thus  polluted  and  profaned. 
For  these  reasons  he  prompts  the  young  prince  to  revenge  ;  else 
it  would  have  been  more  becoming  the  character  of  such  a  prince 
as  Hamlet's  father  is  represented  to  have  been,  and  more  suitable 
to  his  present  condition,  to  have  left  his  brother  to  the  divine 
punishment,  and  to  a  possibility  of  repentance  for  his  base  crime, 
which,  by  cutting  him  off,  he  must  be  deprived  of. 

"  To  conform  to  the  ground-work  of  his  plot,  Shakspeare 
makes  the  young  prince  feign  himself  mad.  I  cannot  but  think 
this  to  be  injudicious  ;  for  so  far  from  securing  himself  from  any 
violence  which  he  feared  from  the  usurper,  it  seems  to  have  been 
the  most  likely  way  of  getting  himself  confined,  and  consequently 
debarred  from  an  opportunity  of  revenging  his  father's  death, 
which  now  seemed  to  be  his  only  aim ;  and  accordingly  it  was 
the  occasion  of  his  being  sent  away  to  England ;  which  design, 
had  it  taken  effect  upon  his  life,  he  never  could  have  revenged 
his  father's  murder.  To  speak  truth,  our  poet  by  keeping  too 
close  to  the  ground-work  of  his  plot,  has  fallen  into  an  absurdity; 
for  there  appears  no  reason  at  all  in  nature,  why  the  young 
prince  did  not  put  the  usurper  to  death  as  soon  as  possible,  espe- 
cially as  Hamlet  is  represented  as  a  youth  so  brave,  and  so  care- 
less of  his  own  life. 

"  The  case  indeed  is  this.  Had  Hamlet  gone  naturally  to 
work,  as  we  could  suppose  such  a  prince  to  do  in  parallel  circum- 
stances, there  would  have  been  an  end  of  our  play.  The  poet, 
therefore,  was  obliged  to  delay  his  hero's  revenge :  but  then  he 
should  have  contrived  some  good  reason  for  it. 

"  His  beginning  his  scenes  of  Hamlet's  madness  by  his  beha- 
viour to  Ophelia,  was  judicious,  because  by  this  means  he  might 
be  thought  to  be  mad  for  her,  not  that  his  brain  was  disturbed 
about  state  affairs,  which  would  have  been  dangerous. 

"  It  does  not  appear  whether  Ophelia's  madness  was  chiefly 
for  her  father's  death,  or  for  the  loss  of  Hamlet.  It  is  not  often 
that  young  women  run  mad  for  the  loss  of  their  fathers.  It  is 

2  C  2 


388  HAMLET, 

wore  natural  to  suppose  that,  like  Chimenc,  in  the  Cid,  her 
great  sorrow  proceeded  from  her  father's  being  killed  by  the  man, 
she  loved,  and  thereby  making  it  indecent  for  her  ever  to  marry 
him. 

"  Laertes's  character  is  a  very  odd  one ;  it  is  not  easy  to  say 
whether  it  is  good  or  bad :  but  his  consenting  to  the  villainous 
contrivance  of  the  usurper's  to  murder  Hamlet,  nrakes  him  much 
more  a  bad  man  than  a  good  one. — It  is  a  very  nice  conduct  in 
the  poet  to  make  the  usurper  build  his  scheme  upon  the  generous 
unsuspicious  temper  of  the  person  he  intends  to  murder,  and  thus 
to  raise  the  prince's  character  by  the  confession  of  his  enemy  ; 
to  make  the  villain  ten  times  more  odious  from  his  own  mouth. 
The  contrivance  of  the  foil  unbated  (i.  e.  without  a  button,)  is 
methinks  too  gross  a  deceit  to  go  down  even  with  a  man  of  the 
most  unsuspicious  nature. 

*'  Laertes's  death  and  the  Queen's  are  truly  poetical  justice, 
and  very  naturally  brought  about,  although  I  do  not  conceive  it 
so  easy  to  change  rapiers  in  a  scuffle  without  knowing  it  at  the 
time.  The  death  of  the  Queen  is  particularly  according  to  the 
strictest  rules  of  poetical  justice ;  for  she  loses  her  life  by  the 
villainy  of  the  very  person,  who  had  been  the  cause  of  all  her 
crimes* 

M  Since  the  poet  deferred  so  long  the  usurper's  death,  we  must 
own  that  he  has  very  naturally  effected  it,  and  still  added  fresh 
crimes  to  those  the  murderer  had  already  committed. 

"  Upon  Laertes's  repentance  for  contriving  the  death  of  Ham- 
let, one  cannot  but  feel  some  Sentiments  of  pity  for  him  ;  but 
who  can  see  or  read  the  death  of  the  young  prince  without 
melting  into  tears  and  compassion  ?  Horatio's  earnest  desire  to 
die  with  the  prince,  thus  not  to  survive  his  friend,  gives  a  stronger 
idea  of  his  friendship  for  Hamlet  in  the  few  lines  on  that  occasion^ 
than  many  actions  or  expressions  could  possibly  have  done.  And 
Hamlet's  begging  him  to  draw  his  breath  in  this  harsh  world  a 
little  longer,  to  clear  his  reputation,  and  manifest  his  innocence, 
is  very  suitable  to  his  virtuous  character,  and  the  honest  regard 
that  all  men  should  have  not  to  be  misrepresented  to  posterity ; 
that  they  may  not  set  a  bad  example,  when  in  reality  they  have 
set  a  good  one :  which  is  the  only  motive  that  can,  in  reason, 
recommend  the  love  of  fame  and  glory. 

"  Horatio's  desire  of  having  the  bodies  carried  to  a  stage,  &c. 
is  very  well  imagined,  and  was  the  best  way  of  satisfying  the 
request  of  his  deceased  friend :  and  he  acts  in  this,  and  in  all 
points,  suitably  to  the  manly  honest  character,  under  which  he 
is  drawn  throughout  the  piece.  Besides,  it  gives  a  sort  of  con- 
tent to  the  audience,  that  though  their  favourite  ( which  must  be 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  389 

Hamlet)  did  not  escape  with  life,  yet  the  greatest  amends  will- 
be  made  him,  which  can  be  in  this  world,  viz.  justice  done  to  his 
memory. 

"  Fortinbras  comes  in  very  naturally  at  the  close  of  the  play, 
and  lays  a  very  just  claim  to  the  throne  of  Denmark,  as  he  had 
the  dying  voice  of  the  prince.  He  in  a  few  words  gives  a  noble 
character  of  Hamlet,  and  serves  to  carry  off  the  deceased  hero 
from  the  stage  with  the  honours  due  to  his  birth  and  merit." 

MALONEU 


ACT  II.    SCENE  II.    P.  150. 


The  rugged  Pyrrhus,  he,  &c.]  The  two  greatest  poets  of  this 
and  the  last  age,  Mr.  Dryden,  in  the  preface  to  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  and  Mr.  Pope,  in  his  note  on  this  place,  have  concurred 
in  thinking,  that  Shakspeare  produced  this  long  passage  with  de- 
sign to  ridicule  and  expose  the  bombast  of  the  play  from  whence 
it  was  taken ;  and  that  Hamlet's  commendation  of  it  is  purely 
ironical.  This  is  become  the  general  opinion.  I  think  just  other- 
wise ;  and  that  it  was  given  with  commendation  to  upbraid  the 
false  taste  of  the  audience  of  that  time,  which  would  not  suffer 
them  to  do  justice  to  the  simplicity  and  sublime  of  this  produc- 
tion. And  I  reason,  first,  from  the  character  Hamlet  gives  of 
the  play,  from  whence  the  passage  is  taken.  Secondly,  from 
the  passage  itself.  And  thirdly,  from  the  effect  it  had  on  the 
audience. 

Let  us  consider  the  character  Hamlet  gives  of  it.  The  play  I 
remember,  pleased  not  the  million  ;  'twas  caviare  to  the  general  : 
but  it  was  (as  I  received  it,  and  others,  whose  judgment  in  such 
•matters  cried  in  the  top  of  mine)  an  excellent  play,  well  digested 
in  the  scenes,  set  down  with  as  much  modesty  as  cunning.  I 
remember  one  said,  there  was  no  salt  in  the  lines  to  make  the 
matter  savoury ;  nor  no  matter  in  the  phrase  that  might  indite 
the  author  of  affection  ;  but  called  it  an  honest  method.  They 
who  suppose  the  passage  given  to  be  ridiculed,  must  needs  sup- 
pose this  character  to  be  purely  ironical.  But  if  so,  it  is  the 
strangest  irony  that  ever  was  written.  It  pleased  not  the  multi- 
tude. This  we  must  conclude  to  be  true,  however  ironical  the 
j'cst  be.  Now  the  reason  given  of  the  designed  ridicule  is  the 


390  HAMLET, 

Supposed  bombast.  But  those  were  the  very  plays,  which  at  that 
time  we  know  took  with  the  multitude.  And  Fletcher  wrote  a 
kind  of  Rehearsal  purposely  to  expose  them.  But  say  it  is  bom- 
bast, and  that  therefore  it  took  not  with  the  multitude.  Hamlet 
presently  tells  us  what  it  was  that  displeased  them.  There  was 
no  salt  in  the  lines  to  make  the  matter  savoury  ;  nor  no  matter 
in  the  phrase  that  might  indite  the  author  of  affection  ;  but 
called  it  an  honest  method.  Now  whether  a  person  speaks  ironi- 
cally or  no,  when  he  quotes  others,  yet  common  sense  requires 
he  should  quote  what  they  say.  Now  it  could  not  be,  if  this  play 
displeased  because  of  the  bombast,  that  those  whom  it  displeased 
should  give  this  reason  for  their  dislike.  The  same  inconsistencies 
and  absurdities  abound  in  every  other  part  of  Hamlet's  speech, 
supposing  it  to  be  ironical ;  but  take  him  as  speaking  his  senti- 
ments, the  whole  is  of  a  piece  ;  and  to  this  purpose.  The  play,  I 
remember,  pleased  not  the  multitude,  and  the  reason  was,  its  be- 
ing wrote  on  the  rules  of  the  ancient  drama;  to  which  they  were 
entire  strangers.  But,  in  my  opinion,  and  in  the  opinion  of  those 
for  whose  judgment  I  have  the  highest  esteem,  it  was  an  excel- 
lent play,  well  digested  in  the  scenes,  i.  e.  where  the  three  uni- 
ties were  well  preserved.  Set  down  with  as  much,  modesty  as 
cunning,  i.  e.  where  not  only  the  art  of  composition,  but  the 
simplicity  of  nature,  was  carefully  attended  to.  The  characters 
were  a  faithful  picture  of  life  and  manners,  in  which  nothing  was 
overcharged  into  farce.  But  these  qualities,  which  gained  my 
esteem,  lost  the  publick's.  For  I  remember,  one  said,  There  was 
no  salt  in  the  lines  to  make  the  matter  savoury,  i.  e.  there  was  not, 
according  to  the  mode  of  that  time,  a  fool  or  clown,  to  joke, 
quibble,  and  talk  freely.  Nor  no  matter  in  the  phrase  that  might 
indite  the  author  of  affection,  i.  e.  nor  none  of  those  passionate, 
pathetick  love  scenes,  so  essential  to  modern  tragedy.  But  he 
called  it  an  honest  method,  i.  e.  he  owned,  however  tasteless  this 
method  of  writing,  on  the  ancient  plan,  was  to  our  times,  yet  it 
was  chaste  and  pure ;  the  distinguishing  character  of  the  Greek 
drama.  I  need  only  make  one  observation  on  all  this ;  that,  thus 
interpreted,  it  is  the  justest  picture  of  a  good  tragedy,  wrote  on 
the  ancient  rules.  And  that  I  have  rightly  interpreted  it,  ap- 
pears farther  from  what  we  find  in  the  old  quarto, — An  honest 
method,  as  wholesome  as  sweet,  and  by  very  much  more  HANDSOME 
than  FINE,  i.  e.  it  had  a  natural  beauty,  but  none  of  thefucus  of 
false  art. 

2.  A  second  proof  that  this  speech  was  given  to  be  admired, 
is  from  the  intrinsick  merit  of  the  speech  itself;  which  con- 
tains the  description  of  a  circumstance  very  happily  imagined, 
namely,  Ilium  and  Priam's  falling  together,  with  the  effect  it  had 
on  the  destroyer. 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  391 

" The  hellish  Pyrrhus,  gfc. 

To,- 

"  Repugnant  to  command. 

"  The  unnerved  father  falls,  fyc, 
To,- 

" r-  So  after  Pyrrhus'  pause." 

Now  this  circumstance,  illustrated  with  the  fine  similitude  of  the 
storm,  is  so  highly  worked  up,  as  to  have  well  deserved  a  place 
,in  Virgil's  second  book  of  the  jEneid,  even  though  the  work 
had  been  carried  on  to  that  perfection  which  the  Roman  poet 
had  conceived. 

3.  The  third  proof  is,  from  the  effects  which  followed  on  the 
recital.  Hamlet,  his  best  character,  approves  it ;  the  player  is 
deeply  affected  in  repeating  it ;  and  only  the  foolish  Polonius 
tired  with  it.  We  have  said  enough  before  of  Hamlet's  senti- 
ments. As  for  the  player,  he  changes  colour,  and  the  tears  start 
from  his  eyes.  But  our  author  was  too  good  a  judge  of  nature 
to  make  bombast  and  unnatural  sentiment  produce  such  an  ef- 
fect. Nature  and  Horace  both  instructed  him : 

"  Si  vis  me  flere,  dolendum  est 

"  Primum  ipsi  tibi,  tune  tua  me  infortunia  laedent, 

"  Telephe,  vel  Peleu.     MALE  si  M  AND  ATA  J,QQUERIS, 

"  Aut  dormitabo  aut  ridebo." 

And  it  may  be  worth  observing,  that  Horace  gives  this  precept 
particularly  to  show,  that  bombast  and  unnatural  sentiments  are 
.incapable  of  moving  the  tender  passions,  which  he  is  directing 
the  poet  how  to  raise.  For,  in  the  lines  just  before,  he  gives 
this  rule : 

"  Telephus  &  Peleus,  cum  pauper  &  exul  uterque, 

"  Projicit  ampullas,  &  sesquipedalia  verba." 
Not  that  I  would  deny,  that  very  bad  lines  in  bad  tragedies  have 
had  this  effect.     But  then  it  always  proceeds  from  one  or  other 
of  these  causes : 

1.  Either  when  the  subject  is  domestick,  and  the  scene  lies  at 
home  ;  the  spectators,  in  this  case,  become  interested  in  the  for- 
tunes of  the  distressed ;  and  their  thoughts  are  so  much  taken 
up  with  the  subject,  that  they  are  not  at  liberty  to  attend  to  the 
poet ;  who  otherwise,  by  his  faulty  sentiments  and  diction,  would 
have  stifled  the  emotions  springing  up  from  a  sense  of  the  dis- 
tress.    But  this  is  nothing  to  the  case  in  hand.    For,  as  Hamlet 
says: 

"  What's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba?'* 

2.  When  bad  lines  raise  this  affection,  they  are  bad  in  the  other 
extreme ;  low,  abject,  and  groveling,  instead  of  being  highty 
figurative  and  swelling ;  yet,  when  attended  with  a  natural  sim- 
plicity, they  have  force  enough  to  strike  illiterate  and  simple 


392  HAMLET, 

minds.  The  tragedies  of  Banks  will  justify  both  these  observa- 
tions. 

But  if  any  one  will  still  say,  that  Shakspeare  intended  to  re- 
present a  player  unnaturally  and  fantastically  affected,  we  must 
appeal  to  Hamlet,  that  is,  to  Shakspeare  himself  in  this  matter; 
wjio,  on  the  reflection  he  makes  upon  the  player's  emotion,  in 
order  to  excite  his  own  revenge,  gives  not  the  least  hint  that  the 
player  was  unnaturally  or  injudiciousl}'  moved.  On  the  con- 
trary, his  fine  description  of  the  actor's  emotion  shows,  he 
thought  just  otherwise : 

" this  player  here, 

"  But  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dream  of  passion, 
"  Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  own  conceit, 
"  That  from  her  working  all  his  visage  wan'd : 
"  Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in  his  aspect, 
"  A  broken  voice,"  Sfc. 

And  indeed  had  Hamlet  esteemed  this  emotion  any  thing  unna- 
tural, it  had  been  a  very  improper  circumstance  to  spur  him  to 
his  purpose. 

As  Shakspeare  has  here  shown  the  effects  which  a  fine  descrip- 
tion of  nature,  heightened  with  all  the  ornaments  of  art,  had  upon 
an  intelligent  player,  whose  business  habituates  him  to  enter  in- 
timately and  deeply  into  the  characters  of  men  and  manners,  and 
to  give  nature  its  free  workings  on  all  occasions ;  so  he  has  art- 
fully shown  what  effects  the  very  same  scene  would  have  upon  a 
quite  different  man,  Polonius ;  by  nature,  very  weak  and  very 
"artificial  [two  qualities,  though  commonly  enough  joined  in  life, 
yet  generally  so  much  disguised  as  not  to  be  seen  by  common 
eyes  to  be  together ;  and  which  an  ordinary  poet  durst  not  have 
brought  so  near  one  another]  ;  by  discipline,  practised  in  a  spe- 
cies of  wit  and  eloquence,  which  was  stiff,  forced,  and  pedantick ; 
and  by  trade  a  politician,  and,  therefore,  of  consequence,  with- 
out any  of  the  affecting  notices  of  humanity.  Such  is  the  man 
whom  Shakspeare  has  judiciously  chosen  to  represent  the  false 
taste  of  that  audience  which  has  condemned  the  play  here  re- 
citing. When  the  actor  comes  to  the  finest  and  most  pathetick 
part  of  the  speech,  Polonius  cries  out  This  is  too  long;  on  which 
Hamlet,  in  contempt  of  his  ill  judgment,  replies,  It  shall  to  the 
barber's  ivith  thy  beard  ;  [intimating  that,  by  this  judgment, 
it  appeared  that  all  his  wisdom  lay  in  his  length  of  beard]. 
Pr'ythee,  say  on.  He's  for  a  jig  or  a  tale  of  ban-dry,  [the  com- 
mon entertainment  of  that  time,  as  well  as  this,  of  the  people] 
or  he  sleeps  ;  say  on.  And  yet  this  man  of  modern  taste,  who 
stood  all  this  time  perfectly  unmoved  with  the  forcible  imagery 
of  the  relator,  no  sooner  hears,  amongst  many  good  things,  one 
quaint  and  fantastical  word,  put  in,  I  suppose,  purposely  for  this 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  393 

end,  than  he  professes  his  approbation  of  the  propriety  and  dig- 
nity  of  it.  That's  good.  Mobled  queen  is  good.  On  the  whole 
then,  I  think,  it  plainly  appears,  that  the  long  quotation  is  not 
given  to  be  ridiculed  and  laughed  at,  but  to  be  admired.  The 
character  given  of  the  play,  by  Hamlet,  cannot  be  ironical; 
The  passage  itself  is  extremely  beautiful.  It  has  the  effect  that 
all  pathetick  relations,  naturally  written,  should  have  ;  and  it  is 
condemned,  or  regarded  with  indifference,  by  one  of  a  wrong, 
unnatural  taste.  From  hence  (to  observe  it  by  the  way)  the 
actors,  in  their  representation  of  this  play,  may  learn  how  this 
speech  ought  to  be  spoken,  and  what  appearance  Hamlet  ought 
to  assume  during  the  recital. 

That  which  supports  the  common  opinion,  concerning  this 
passage,  is  the  turgid  expression  in  some  parts  of  it ;  which,  they 
think,  could  never  be  given  by  the  poet  to  be  commended.  We 
shall,  therefore,  in  the  next  place,  examine  the  lines  most  ob- 
noxious to  censure,  and  see  how  much,  allowing  the  charge, 
this  will  make  for  the  induction  of  their  conclusion : 

Pyrrhus  at  Priam  drives,  in  rage  strikes  wide, 
But  with  the  whiff  and  wind  of  his  fell  sword 
The  unnerved  father  falls." 
And  again, — 

Out,  out,  thou  strumpet  fortune  !  All  you  gods, 
In  general  synod,  take  away  her  power : 
Break  all  the  spokes  and  fellies  from  her  wheel, 
And  bowl  the  round  nave  down  the  hill  of  heaven, 
As  low  as  to  the  fiends." 
Now  whether  these  be  bombast  or  not,  is  not  the  question ; 
but  whether  Shakspeare  esteemed  them  so.     That  he  did  not 
so  esteem  them  appears  from  his  having  used  the  very  same 
thoughts  in  the  same  expressions,  in  his  best  plays,  and  given 
them  to  his  principal  characters,  where  he  aims  at  the  sublime. 
As  in  the  following  passages : 

Troilus,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  far  outstrains  the  execution 
of  Pyrrhus's  sword  in  the  character  he  gives  of  Hector's  : 
"  When  many  times  the  caitive  Grecians  Jail 
"  Even  in  the  Jan  and  wind  of  your  fair  sword, 
"  You  bid  them  rise  and  live." 

Cleopatra,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  rails  at  fortune  in  the 
same  manner : 

**  No,  let  me  speak,  and  let  me  rail  so  high, 
"  That  the  false  huswife  Fortune  break  her  wheel, 
"  Provok'd  at  my  offence." 

But  another  use  may  be  made  of  these  quotations ;  a  discovery 
of  this  recited  play :  which,  letting  us  into  a  circumstance  of 
our  author's  life  (as  a  writer)  hitherto  unknown,  was  the  reason 


394  HAMLET, 

I  have  been  so  large  upon  this  question.  I  think  then  it  appears, 
from  what  has  been  said,  that  the  play  in  dispute  was  6hak- 
speare's  own;  and  that  this  was  the  occasion  of  writing  it.  He 
was  desirous,  as  soon  as  he  had  found  his  strength,  of  restoring 
the  chasteness  and  regularity  of  the  ancient  stage:  and  therefore 
composed  this  tragedy  on  the  model  of  the  Greek  drama,  as  may 
be  seen  by  throwing  so  much  action  into  relation.  But  his  at- 
tempt proved  fruitless ;  and  the  raw,  unnatural  taste,  then  pre- 
valent, forced  him  back  again  into  his  old  Gothick  manner.  For 
which  he  took  this  revenge  upon  his  audience.  WAKBUKTON. 

I  formerly  thought  that  the  lines  which  have  given  rise  to  the 
foregoing  observations,  were  extracted  from  some  old  play,  of 
which  it  appeared  to  me  probable  that  Christopher  Marlowe  was 
the  author ;  but  whatever  Shakspeare's  view  in  producing  them 
may  have  been,  I  am  now  decidedly  of  opinion  they  were 
written  by  himself,  not  in  any  former  unsuccessful  piece,  but 
expressly  for  the  play  of  Hamlet.  It  is  observable,  that  what 
Dr.  Warburton  calls  "  the  fine  similitude  of  the  storm,"  is  like- 
wise found  in  our  poet's  Venus  and  Adonis.  MA  LONE. 

The  praise  which  Hamlet  bestows  on  this  piece  is  certainly 
dissembled,  and  agrees  very  well  with  the  character  of  madness, 
which,  before  witnesses,  he  thought  it  necessary  to  support.  The 
speeches  before  us  have  so  little  merit,  that  nothing  but  an  af- 
fectation of  singularity,  could  have  influenced  Dr.  Warburton 
to  undertake  their  defence.  The  poet,  perhaps,  meant  to  exhibit 
a  just  resemblance  of  some  of  the  plays  of  his  own  age,  in  which 
the  faults  were  too  general  and  too  glaring  to  permit  a  few 
splendid  passages  to  atone  for  them.  The  player  knew  his  trade, 
and  spoke  the  lines  in  an  affecting  manner,  because  Hamlet  had 
declared  them  to  be  pathetick,  or  might  be  in  reality  a  little 
moved  by  them;  for,  "  There  are  less  degrees  of  nature  (says 
Dryden )  by  which  some  faint  emotions  of  pity  and  terror  are 
raised  in  us,  as  a  less  engine  will  raise  a  less  proportion  of  weight, 
though  not  so  much  as  one  of  Archimedes'  making."  The 
mind  of  the  prince,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  fitted  for  the  re- 
ception of  gloomy  ideas,  and  his  tears  were  ready  at  a  slight 
solicitation.  It  is  by  no  means  proved,  that  Shakspeare  has  em- 
ployed the  same  thoughts  clothed  in  the  same  expressions,  in  his 
best  plays.  If  he  bids  the  Jhlse  huswife  Fortune  break  her  wheel, 
he  does  not  desire  her  to  break  all  its  spokes ;  nay,  even  its 
periphery,  and  make  use  of  the  nave  afterwards  for  such  an 
immeasurable  cast.  Though  if  what  Dr.  Warburton  has  said 
should  be  found  in  any  instance  to  be  exactly  true,  what  can  we 
infer  from  thenco,  but  that  Shakspeare  was  sometimes  wrong  iu 
«pite  of  conviction,  and  in  the  hurry  of  writing  committed  those 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  39.5 

very  faults  which  his  judgment  could  detect  in  others?  Dr. 
Warburton  is  inconsistent  in  his  assertions  concerning  the  lite- 
rature of  Shakspeare.  In  a  note  on  Troilns  and  Cressida,  he 
affirms,  that  his  want  of  learning  kept  him  from  being  acquainted 
with  the  writings  of  Homer ;  and,  in  this  instance,  would  sup- 
pose him  capable  of  producing  a  complete  tragedy  written  on  the 
ancient  rules;  and  that  the  speech  before  us  had  sufficient  merit 
to  entitle  it  to  a  place  in  the  second  book  of  Virgil's  JEneid,  even 
though  the  ivor/c  had  been  carried  to  that  perfection  "which  the 
Roman  poet  had  conceived.* 

Had  Shakspeare  made  one  unsuccessful  attempt  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  ancients  (that  he  had  any  knowledge  of  their  rules, 
remains  to  be  proved, )  it  would  certainly  have  been  recorded 
by  contemporary  writers,  among  whom  Ben  Jonson  would  have 
been  the  first.  Had  his  darling  ancients  been  unskilfully  imi- 
tated by  a  rival  poet,  he  would  at  least  have  preserved  the  me- 
mory of  the  fact,  to  show  how  unsafe  it  was  for  any  one,  who 
was  not  as  thorough  a  scholar  as  himself,  to  have  meddled  with 
their  sacred  remains. 

"  Within  that  circle  none  durst  walk  but  he."  He  has  repre- 
sented Inigo  Jones  as  being  ignorant  of  the  very  names  of  those 
classick  authors,  whose  architecture  he  undertook  to  correct;  in 
his  Poetaster  he  has  in  several  places  hinted  at  our  poet's  injudi- 
cious use  of  words,  and  seems  to  have  pointed  his  ridicule  more 
than  once  at  some  of  his  descriptions  and  characters.  It  is  true, 
that  he  has  praised  him,  but  it  was  not  while  that  praise  could 
have  been  of  any  service  to  him ;  and  posthumous  applause  is 
always  to  be  had  on  easy  conditions.  Happy  it  was  for  Shak- 
speare, that  he  took  nature  for  his  guide,  and,  engaged  in  the 
warm  pursuit  of  her  beauties,  left  to  Jonson  the  repositories  of 
learning:  so  has  he  escaped  a  contest  which  might  have  rendered 
his  life  uneasy,  and  bequeathed  to  our  possession  the  more  valu- 
able copies  from  nature  herself:  for  Shakspeare  was  (says  Dr. 
Hurd,  in  his  notes  on  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,}  "  the  first  that 
broke  through  the  bondage  of  classical  superstition.  And  he 
owed  this  felicity,  as  he  did  some  others,  to  his  want  of  what 


*  It  appears  to  me  not  only  that  Shakspeare  had  the  favourable  opinion  cf 
these  lines  which  he  makes  Hamlet  express,  hut  that  they  were  extracted 
from  some  play  which  he,  at  a  more  early  period,  had  either  produced  or  pro- 
jected upon  the  story  of  Dido  and  JEntas.  The  verses  recited  are  far  supe- 
rior to  those  of  any  coeval  writer :  the  parallel  passagein  Marlowe  and  Nashe's 
Dido  will  not  hear  the  comparison.  Possibly,  indeed,  it  might  have  been  his 
first  attempt,  before  the  divinity  that  lodged  within  him  had  instructed  him  to 
despise  the  tumid  and  unnatural  style  so  much  and  so  unjustly  admired  in  his 
•predecessors  or  contemporaries,  and  which  he  afterward  so  happily  ridiculed 
in  "  the  swaggering  vaine  of  Ancient  Pistol."  RIISON. 


396  HAMLET, 

is  called  the  advantage  of  a  learned  education.  Thus  uninflu. 
tnced  by  the  weight  of  early  prepossession,  he  struck  at  once 
into  the  road  of  nature  and  common  sense :  and  without  design- 
ing, uithout  knowing  it,  hath  left  us  in  his  historical  plays,  with 
all  their  anomalies,  an  exacter  resemblance  of  the  Athenian 
stage  than  is  any  where  to  be  found  in  its  most  professed  ad- 
mirers and  copyists."  Again,  ibid:  "  It  is  possible,  there  are, 
who  think  a  want  of  reading,  as  well  as  vast  superiority  of  ge- 
nius, hath  contributed  to  lift  this  astonishing  man,  to  the  glory 
of  being  esteemed  the  most  original  THINKER  and  SPEAKER, 
since  the  times  of  Homer.*' 

To  this  extract  1  may  add  the  sentiments  of  Dr.  Edward  Young 
on  the  same  occasion.  "  Who  knows  whether  Shakspeare  might 
not  have  thought  less,  if  he  had  read  more  ?  Who  knows  if  he 
might  not  have  laboured  under  the  load  of  Jonson's  learning,  as 
Enceladus  under  ./Etna !  His  mighty  genius,  indeed,  through 
the  most  mountainous  oppression,  would  have  breathed  out  some 
of  his  inextinguishable  fire;  yet  possibly,  he  might  not  have 
risen  up  into  that  giant,  that  much  more  than  common  man,  at 
which  we  now  gaze  with  amazement  and  delight.  Perhaps  he 
was  as  learned  as  his  dramatick  province  required ;  for  what- 
ever other  learning  he  wanted,  he  was  master  of  two  books, 
which  the  last  conflagration  alone  can  destroy ;  the  book  of  na- 
ture, and  that  of  man.  These  he  had  by  heart,  and  has  tran- 
scribed many  admirable  pages  of  them  into  his  immortal  works. 
These  are  the  fountain-head,  whence  the  Castalian  streams  of 
original  composition  flow ;  and  these  are  often  mudded  by  other 
waters,  though  waters  in  their  distinct  channel,  most  wholesome 
and  pure ;  as  two  chemical  liquors,  separately  clear  as  crystal, 
grow  foul  by  mixture,  and  offend  the  sight.  So  that  he  had  not 
only  as  much  learning  as  his  dramatick  province  required,  but, 
perhaps  as  it  could  safely  bear.  If  Milton  had  spared  some  of 
his  learning,  his  muse  would  have  gained  more  glory  than  he 
would  have  lost  by  it." 

Conjectures  on  Original  Composition. 

The  first  remark  of  Voltaire  on  this  tragedy,  is  that  the  former 
king  had  been  poisoned  by  his  brother  and  his  queen.  The  guilt 
of  the  latter,  however,  is  far  from  being  ascertained.  The  Ghost 
forbears  to  accuse  her  as  an  accessary,  and  very  forcibly  recom- 
mends her  to  the  mercy  of  her  son.  I  may  add,  that  her  con- 
science appears  undisturbed  during  the  exhibition  of  the  mock 
tragedy,  which  produces  so  visible  a  disorder  in  her  husband  who 
was  really  criminal.  The  last  observation  of  the  same  author  has 
no  greater  degree  of  veracity  to  boast  of;  for  now,  says  he,  all 
the  actors  in  the  piece  are  swept  away,  and  one  Monsieur  For* 
tenbras  is  introduced  to  conclude  it.  Can  this  be  true,  when 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARK.  397 

Horatio,  Osric,  Voltimand,  and  Cornelius  survive  ?  These,  to- 
gether with  the  whole  court  of  Denmark,  are  supposed  to  be 
present  at  the  catastrophe,  so  that  we  are  not  indebted  to  the? 
Norwegian  chief  for  having  kept  the  stage  from  vacancy. 

Monsieur  de  Voltaire  has  since  transmitted,  in  an  epistle  to 
the  Academy  of  Belles  Lettres,  some  remarks  on  the  late  French 
translation  of  Shakspeare ;  but,  alas !  no  traces  of  genius  or  vi- 
gour are  discoverable  in  this  crambe  repetita,  which  is  notorious 
only  for  its  insipidity,  fallacy,  and  malice.  It  serves  indeed  to 
show  an  apparent  decline  of  talents  and  spirit  in  its  writer,  who 
no  longer  relies  on  his  own  ability  to  depreciate  a  rival,  but  ap- 
peals in  a  plaintive  strain  to  the  queen  and  princesses  of  France 
for  their  assistance  to  stop  the  further  circulation  of  Shakspeare's 
renown. 

Impartiality,  nevertheless,  must  acknowledge  that  his  private 
correspondence  displays  a  superior  degree  of  animation.  Perhaps 
an  ague  shook  him  when  he  appealed  to  the  publick  on  this  sub- 
ject ;  but  the  effects  of  a  fever  seem  to  predominate  in  his  sub- 
sequent letter  to  Monsieur  D' Argenteuil  on  the  same  occasion  ; 
for  such  a  letter  it  is  as  our  John  Dennis  (while  his  phrenzy 
lasted)  might  be  supposed  to  have  written.  *'  C'est  moi  qui 
autrefois  parlai  le  premier  de  ce  Shakspeare:  c'est  moi  qui  le 
premier  montrai  aux  Francois  quelques  perles  quels  j'ayois 
trouve  dans  son  enorme  fumier"  Mrs.  Montague,  the  justly 
celebrated  authoress  of  the  Essay  on  the  Genius  and  Writings  of 
our  author,  was  in  Paris,  and  in  the  circle  where  these  ravings 
of  the  Frenchman  were  first  publickly  recited.  On  hearing  the 
illiberal  expression  already  quoted,  with  no  less  elegance  than 
readiness  she  replied — "  C'est  un  Jumier  qui  a  fertilize  une 
terre  bien  ingrate." — In  short,  the  author  of  Zayre,  Mahomet, 
and  Semiramis,  possesses  all  the  mischievous  qualities  of  a  mid- 
night felon,  who,  in  the  hope  to  conceal  his  guilt,  sets  the  house 
he  has  robbed  on  fire. 

As  for  Messieurs  D'Alembert  and  Marmontel,  they  might 
safely  be  passed  over  with  that  neglect  which  their  impotence  of 
criticism  deserves.  Voltaire,  in  spite  of  his  natural  disposition  to 
vilify  an  English  poet,  by  adopting  sentiments,  characters,  and 
situations  from  Shakspeare,  has  bestowed  on  him  involuntary 
praise.  Happily,  he  has  not  been  disgraced  by  the  worthless  en- 
comiums or  disfigured  by  the  aukward  imitations  of  the  other 
pair,  who  "  follow  in  the  chace  not  like  hounds  that  hunt,  but 
like  those  who  fill  up  the  cry."  When  D'Alembert  declares  that 
more  sterling  sense  is  to  be  met  with  in  ten  French  verses  than 
in  thirty  English  ones,  contempt  is  all  that  he  provokes — such 
contempt  as  can  only  be  exceeded  by  that  which  every  scholar 


398  HAMLET. 

will  express,  who  may  chance  to  look  into  thn  prose  translation 
of  Lucan  by  Marmontel,  with  the  vain  expectation  of  discover- 
ing either  the  sense,  the  spirit,  or  the  whole  of  the  original. 

STEEVEVSu 


CYMBELINE. 


»  CYMBELINE.]  Mr.  Pope  supposed  the  story  of  this  play  to 
have  been  borrowed  from  a  novel  of  Boccace;  but  he  was  mis- 
taken, as  an  imitation  of  it  is  found  in  an  old  story-book  entitled 
Westward  for  Smelts.  This  imitation  differs  in  as  many  parti- 
culars from  the  Italian  novelist,  as  from  Shakspeare,  though  they 
concur  in  some  material  parts  of  the  fable.  It  was  published  in 
a  quarto  pamphlet  1603.  This  is  the  only  copy  of  it  which  I 
have  hitherto  seen. 

There  is  a  late  entry  of  it  in  the  books  of  the  Stationers'  Com- 
pany, Jan.  1619,  where  it  is  said  to  have  been  written  by  Kitt  of 
Kingston.  STEEVENS. 

The  tale  in  Westward  for  Smelts,  which  I  published  some 
years  ago,  I  shall  subjoin  to  this  play.  The  only  part  of  the 
fable,  however,  which  can  be  pronounced  with  certainty  to  be 
drawn  from  thence,  is,  Imogen's  wandering  about  after  Pisanio 
has  left  her  in  the  forest ;  her  being  almost  famished;  and  being 
taken  at  a  subsequent  period,  into  the  service  of  the  Roman 
General  as  a  page.  The  general  scheme  of  Cymbeline  is,  in  my 
opinion,  formed  on  Boccace's  novel  (Day  2,  Nov.  9.)  and  Shak- 
speare has  taken  a  circumstance  from  it,  that  is  not  mentioned 
in  the  other  tale.  See  Act  II.  sc.  ii.  It  appears  from  the  pre- 
face to  the  old  translation  of  the  Decamerone,  printed  in  1620, 
that  many  of  the  novels  had  before  received  an  English  dress, 
and  had  been  printed  separately :  "  I  know,  most  worthy  lord, 
(says  the  printer  in  his  Epistle  Dedicatory,)  that  many  of  them 
£  the  novels  of  Boccace]  have  long  since  been  published  before,  as 
stolen  from  the  original  author,  and  yet  not  beautified  with  his 
sweet  style  and  elocution  of  phrase,  neither  savouring  of  his 
singular  morall  applications." 

Cymbeline,  I  imagine,  was  written  in  the  year  1605.  See  An 
Attempt  to  ascertain  the  Order  of  Shakspeare's  Plays,  Vol.  II. 
The  king  from  whom  the  play  takes  its  title  began  his  reign, 
according  to  Holinshed,  in  the  19th  year  of  the  reign  of  Au- 
gustus Caesar ;  and  the  play  commences  in  or  about  the  twenty- 
fourth  year  of  Cymbeline's  reign,  which  was  the  forty-second 
year  of  the  reign  of  Augustus,  and  the  16th  of  the  Christian  aera : 
notwithstanding  which,  Shakspeare  has  peopled  Rome  with 
modern  Italians ;  Philario,  lachimo,  &c.  Cymbeline  is  said  to 
have  reigned  thirty-five  years,  leaving  at  his  death  two  sons, 
Guiderius  and  Arviragus.  MALONE. 


An  ancient  translation,  or  rather  a  deformed  and  interpolated 
imitation,  of  the  ninth  novel  of  the  second  day  of  the  Decameron 
of  Boccacio,  has  recently  occurred.  The  title  and  colophon  of 
this  rare  piece,  are  as  follows : 

'*  This  mater  treateth  of  a  merchautes  wyfe  that  afterwarde 
went  lyke  a  ma  and  becam  a  great  lorde  and  was  called  Frede- 
ryke  of  Jennen  afterwarde." 


"  Thus  endeth  this  lytell  story  of  lorde  Frederyke.  Impryted 
1  Anwarpe  by  me  JohnDusborowhge,dwellynge  besyde  ye  Gamer 
porte  in  the  yere  of  our  lorde  god  a.  M.CCCCC.  and  xviij." 

This  novel  exhibits  the  material  features  of  its  original ;  though 
the  names  of  the  characters  are  changed,  their  sentiments  de- 
based, and  their  conduct  rendered  still  more  improbable  than  in 
the  scenes  before  us.  John  of  Florence  is  the  Ambrogiulo, 
Ambrosius  of  Jennens  the  Bernabo  of  the  story.  Of  the  trans- 
lator's elegance  of  imagination,  and  felicity  of  expression,  the 
two  following  instances  may  be  sufficient.  He  has  converted 
the  picturesque  mole  under  the  left  breast  of  the  lady,  into  a 
black  wart  on  her  left  arm ;  and  when  at  last,  in  a  male  habit, 
she  discovers  her  sex,  instead  of  displaying  her  bosom  only,  he 
obliges  her  to  appear  before  the  King  and  his  whole  court  com- 
pletely "  naked,  save  that  she  had  a  karcher  of  sylke  before  hyr 
members." — The  whole  work  is  illustrated  with  wooden  cuts  re- 
presenting every  scene  throughout  the  narrative. 

I  know  not  that  any  advantage  is  gained  by  the  discovery  of 
this  antiquated  piece,  unless  it  serves  to  strengthen  our  belief 
that  some  more  faithful  translation  had  furnished  Shakspeare 
with  incidents  which,  in  their  original  Italian,  to  him  at  least 
were  inaccessible.  STEEVENS. 


VOL.  XVIII.  2  D 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED. 


Cymbeline,  King  of  Britain. 

Cloten,  So?i  to  the  Queen  by  a  former  Husband. 

Leonatus  Posthumus,  a  Gentleman,  Husband  to 

Imogen. 
Belarius,  a  banished  Lord,  disguised  under  the  Name 

of  Morgan. 

r*   -j    •         (Sons  to  Cymbeline,  disguised  under 
Guidenus,    1      ^     -\r  /•  -D  i  j  j  n  j 

*     .          '   <      the  Names  of  Polydore  and  Cad- 

°    '    £     wal,  supposed  Sons  to  Belarius. 
Philario,  Friend  to  Posthumus,  tr^.  r 
lachimo,  Friend  to  Philario,       ) 
A  French  Gentleman,  Friend  to  Philario. 
Caius  Lucius,  General  of  the  Roman  Forces. 
A  Roman  Captain.     Two  British  Captains. 
Pisanio,  Servant  to  Posthumus. 
Cornelius,  a  Physician. 
Two  Gentlemen. 
Two  Gaolers. 

Queen,  Wife  to  Cymbeline. 

Imogen,  Daughter  to  Cymbeline  by  a  former  Queen. 

Helen,  Woman  to  Imogen. 

Lords,  Ladies,  Roman  Senators,  Tribunes,  Appa- 
ritions, a  Soothsayer,  a  Dutch  Gentleman,  a 
Spanish  Gentleman,  Musicians,  Officers,  Captains, 
Soldiers,  Messengers,  and  other  Attendants. 

SCENE,  sometimes  in  Britain ;  sometimes  in  Italy. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 

Britain.     The  Garden  behind  Cymbeline's  Palace. 
Enter  Two  Gentlemen. 

1  GENT.  You  do  not  meet  a  man,  but  frowns : 

our  bloods 

No  more  obey  the  heavens,  than  our  courtiers ; 
Still  seem,  as  does  the  king's.1 

1  You  do  not  meet  a  man,  but  frowns :  our  bloods 
No  more  obey  the  heavens,  than  our  courtiers; 
Still  seem,  as  does  the  king's.']  The  thought  is  this ;  we  are 
not  now  (as  we  were  wont)  influenced  by  the  weather,  but  by 
the  king's  looks.  We  no  more  obey  the  heavens  [the  sky]  than 
our  courtiers  obey  the  heavens  [God].  By  which  it  appears  that 
the  reading — our  bloods,  is  wrong.  For  though  the  blood  may 
be  affected  with  the  weather,  yet  that  affection  is  discovered  not 
by  change  of  colour,  but  by  change  of  countenance.  And  it  is 
the  outward  not  the  intvard  change  that  is  here  talked  of,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  word  seem.  We  should  read  therefore  : 

our  brows 

No  more  obey  the  heavens,  &c. 
which  is  evident  from  the  precedent  words : 

You  do  not  meet  a  man  but  frowns. 
And  from  the  following : 

" But  not  a  courtier, 

"  Although  they  wear  their faces  to  the  bent 

"  Of  the  king's  look,  but  hath  a  heart  that  is 

"  Glad  at  the  thing  they  scowl  at." 

The  Oxford  editor  improves  upon  this  emendation,  and  reads  : 

2  D  2 


404  CYMBELINK.  ACTI. 

2  GENT.  But  what's  the  matter  ? 


•our  looks 


No  more  obey  the  heart,  ev'n  than  our  courtiers. 
But  by  ventuTing  too  far,  at  a  second  emendation,  he  has  stript 
it  of  all  thought  and  sentiment.     WARBUHTON. 

This  passage  is  so  difficult,  that  commentators  may  differ  con- 
cerning it  without  animosity  or  shame.  Of  the  two  emendation* 
proposed,  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's  is  the  more  licentious ;  but  he 
makes  the  sense  clear,  and  leaves  the  reader  an  easy  passage. 
Dr.  Warburton  has  corrected  with  more  caution,  but  less  im- 
provement :  his  reasoning  upon  his  own  reading  is  so  obscure 
and  perplexed,  that  I  suspect  some  injury  of  the  press. — I  am 
now  to  tell  my  opinion,  which  is,  that  the  lines  stand  as  they 
were  originally  written,  and  that  a  paraphrase,  such  as  the 
licentious  and  abrupt  expressions  of  our  author  too  frequently 
require,  will  make  emendation  unnecessary.  We  do  not  meet  a 
man  but  frowns;  our  bloods — our  countenances,  which,  in  popu- 
lar speech,  are  said  to  be  regulated  by  the  temper  of  the  blood, 
— no  more  obey  the  laws  of  heaven, — which  direct  us  to  appear 
what  we  really  are, — than  our  courtiers' : — that  is,  than  the  bloods 
of  our  courtiers  ;  but  our  bloods,  like  theirs, — still  seem,  as  doth 
the  king's.  JOHNSON. 

In  The  Yorkshire  Tragedy,  1608,  which  has  been  attributed 
to  Shakspeare,  blood  appears  to  be  used  for  inclination : 

"  For  'tis  our  blood  to  love  what  we  are  forbidden." 
Again,  in  King  Lear,  Act  IV.  sc.  ii : 

"  — — — — Were  it  my  fitness 

**  To  let  these  hands  obey  my  blood." 
In  King  Henry  VIII.  Act  III.  sc.  iv.  is  the  same  thought : 

" subject  to  your  countenance,  glad,  or  sorry, 

"  As  I  saw  it  inclin'd." 

Again,  in  Greene's  Never  too  late,  4to.  1590:  "  if  the  King 
smiled,  every  one  in  the  court  was  in  his  jollitie  ;  if  he  frowned, 
their  plumes  fell  like  peacock's  feathers,  so  that  their  outward 
presence  depended  on  his  inward  passions."  STEEVENS. 

I  would  propose  to  make  this  passage  clear  by  a  very  slight 
alteration,  only  leaving  out  the  last  letter : 

You  do  not  meet  a  man  but  frowns:  our  bloods 

No  more  obey  the  heavens,  than  our  courtiers 

Still  seem,  as  does  the  king. 

That  is,  Still  look  as  the  king  does;  or,  as  he  expresses  it  a  little 
differently  afterwards : 

" wear  their  faces  to  the  bent 

"  Of  the  king's  look."     TYKWHITT. 


sc.  /.  CYMBELINE.  405 

1  GENT.  His  daughter,  and  the  heir  of  his  king- 
dom, whom 

He  purpos'd  to  his  wife's  sole  son,  (a  widow, 
That  late  he  married,)  hath  referred  herself 
Unto  a  poor  but  worthy  gentleman:  She's  wedded; 
Her  husband  banish'd ;  she  imprisoned :  all 
Is  outward  sorrow;2  though,  I  think,  the  king 


The  only  error  that  I  can  find  in  this  passage  is,  the  mark  of 
the  genitive  case  annexed  to  the  word  courtiers,  which  appears 
to  be  a  modern  innovation,  and  ought  to  be  corrected.  The 
meaning  of  it  is  this : — "  Our  dispositions  no  more  obey  the  hea- 
vens than  our  courtiers  do ;  they  still  seem  as  the  king's  does." 
The  obscurity  arises  from  the  omission  of  the  pronoun  they,  by 
a  common  poetical  licence.  M.  MASON. 

Blood  is  so  frequently  used  by  Shakspeare  for  natural  disposi- 
tion, that  there  can  be  no  doubt  concerning  the  meaning  here. 
So,  in  All's  luell  that  ends  well: 

*'  Now  his  important  blood  will  nought  deny 

"  That  she'll  demand." 
See  also  Timon  of  Athens,  Act  IV.  sc.  ii.  Vol.  XIX. 

I  have  followed  the  regulation  of  the  old  copy,  in  separating 
the  word  courtiers  from  what  follows,  by  placing  a  semicolon 
after  it.  "  Still  seem" — "for  "  they  still  seem,"  or  "  our  bloods 
still  seem,"  is  common  in  Shakspeare.  The  mark  of  the  genitive 
case,  which  has  been  affixed  in  the  late  editions  to  the  word  courtiers, 
does  not  appear  to  me  necessary,  as  the  poet  might  intend  to 
say — "  than  our  courtiers  obey  the  heavens :"  though,  it  must 
be  owned,  the  modern  regulation  derives  some  support  from 
what  follows : 

" but  not  a  courtier, 

"  Although  they  wear  their  faces  to  the  bent 

"  Of  the  king's  looks,—." 

We  have  again,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  a  sentiment  similar 
to  that  before  us : 

" for  he  would  shine  on  those 

"  That  made  their  looks  by  his."     MALONE. 


•  She's  wedded ; 


Her  husband  banish'd  ;  she  imprison' d:  all 
Is  outward  sorrow;  &c.]     I  would  reform  the  metre  as 
follows : 


406  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r* 

Be  touch'd  at  very  heart. 
2  GENT.  None  but  the  king  ? 

1  GENT.  He,  that  hath  lost  her,  too :  so  is  the 

queen, 

That  most  desir'd  the  match  :  But  not  a  courtier, 
Although  they  wear  their  faces  to  the  bent 
Of  the  king's  looks,  hath  a  heart  that  is  not 
Glad  at  the  thing  they  scowl  at. 

2  GENT.  And  why  so? 

1  GENT.  He  that  hath  miss'd  the  princess,  is  a 

thing 

Too  bad  for  bad  report :  and  he  that  hath  her, 
(I  mean,  that  married  her, — alack,  good  man  !— 
And  therefore  banish'd)  is  a  creature  such 
As,  to  seek  through  the  regions  of  the  earth 
For  one  his  like,  there  would  be  something  failing 
In  him  that  should  compare.     I  do  not  think, 
So  fair  an  outward,  and  such  stuff  within, 
Endows  a  man  but  he. 

2  GENT.  You  speak  him  far.3 

1  GENT.  I  do  extend  him,  sir,  within  himself;4 

She's  wed ;  her  husband  banish'd,  she  imprisoned  : 
All's  outward  sorrow  ;  &c. 
Wed  is  used  for  wedded,  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors: 

"  In  Syracusa  was  I  born,  and  toerf, ."    STEEVENS. 

3  You  speak  him  far.]     i.  e.  you  praise  him  extensively. 

STEEVENS. 

You  are  lavish  in  your  encomiums  on  him :  your  eulogium 
has  a  wide  compass.  MALONE. 

4  I  do  extend  him,  sir,  within  himself;^     I  extend  him  within 
himself:  my  praise,  however  extensive,  is  within  his  merit. 

JOHNSON. 

My  eulogium,  however  extended  it  may  seem,  is  short  of  his 
real  excellence:  it  is  rather  abbreviated  than  expanded. — We 
have  again  the  same  expression  in  a  subsequent  scene :  "  The 
approbation  of  those  that  weep  this  lamentable  divorce,  are  won- 


JK.  /.  CYMBELINE.  407 

Crush  him5  together,  rather  than  unfold 
His  measure  duly. 

2  GENT.  What's  his  name,  and  birth  ? 

1  GENT.  I  cannot  delve  him  to  the  root :  His 

father 

Was  calPd  Sicilius,  who  did  join  his  honour, 
Against  the  Romans,  with  Cassibelan  ;6 
But  had  his  titles  by  Tenantius,7  whom 


derfully  to  extend  him."  Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale:  "  The 
report  of  her  is  extended  more  than  can  be  thought."  MALONE. 

Perhaps  this  passage  may  be  somewhat  illustrated  by  the  fol- 
lowing lines  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  III.  sc.  iii : 

" no  man  is  the  lord  of  any  thing, 

"  Till  he  communicate  his  parts  to  others  : 
"  Nor  doth  he  of  himself  know  them  for  aught, 
"  Till  he  behold  them  form'd  in  the  applause 
"  Where  they  are  extended,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

*  Crush  him—']     So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II : 

"  Croud  us  and  crush  us  in  this  monstrous  form." 

STEEVENS. 

6 "who  did  join  his  honour 

Against  the  Romans,  "with  Cassibelan  ;  ]  I  do  not  understand 
what  can  be  meant  by  "  joining  his  honour  against  &c.  with  &c." 
Perhaps  our  author  wrote : 

did  join  his  banner 

Against  the  Romans  &c. 
In  King  John,  says  the  Bastard,  let  us — 

"  Part  our  mingled  colours  once  again." 

and  in  the  last  speech  of  the  play  before  us,  Cymbeline  proposes 
that  "  a  Roman  and  a  British  ensign  should  wave  together." 

STEEVENS. 

7 Tenantius,']  was  the  father  of  Cymbeline,  and  nephew 

of  Cassibelan,  being  the  younger  son  of  his  elder  brother  Lud, 
king  of  the  southern  part  of  Britain  ;  on  whose  death  Cassibelan 
was  admitted  king.  Cassibelan  repulsed  the  Romans  on  their 
first  attack,  but  being  vanquished  by  Julius  Caesar  on  his  second 
invasion  of  Britain,  he  agreed  to  pay  an  annual  tribute  to 
Rome.  After  his  death,  Tenantius,  Lud's  younger  son  (his  elder 
brother  Androgeus  having  fled  to  Rome)  was  established  on  the 
throne,  of  which  they  had  been  unjustly  deprived  by  their  uncle. 


408  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

He  serv'd  with  glory  and  admir'd  success : 

So  gain'd  the  sur-addition,  Leouatus  : 

And  had,  besides  this  gentleman  in  question, 

Two  other  sons,  who,  in  the  wars  o'the  time, 

Died  with  their  swords  in  hand ;  for  which  their 

father 

(Then  old  and  fond  of  issue,)  took  such  sorrow, 
That  he  quit  being  ;  and  his  gentle  lady, 
Big  of  this  gentleman,  our  theme,  deceas'd 
As  he  was  born.     The  king,  he  takes  the  babe 
To  his  protection  ;   calls  him  Posthumus  ;8 
Breeds  him,  and  makes  him  of  his  bed-chamber : 
Puts  him  to  all  the  learnings  that  his  time 
Could  make  him  the  receiver  of;  which  he  took, 
As  we  do  air,  fast  as  'twas  minister'd ;  and 
In  his  spring  became  a  harvest :  Liv'd  in  court, 
(Which  rare  it  is  to  do,)  most  prais'd,  most  lov'd:9 
A  sample  to  the  youngest ;  to  the  more  mature, 
A  glass  that  feated  them ; l  and  to  the  graver, 

According  to  some  authorities,  Tenantius  quietly  paid  the  tri- 
bute stipulated  by  Cassibelan ;  according  to  others,  he  refused  to 
pay  it,  and  warred  with  the  Romans.  Shakspeare  supposes  the 
latter  to  be  the  truth.  Holinshed,  who  furnished  our  poet  with 
these  facts,  furnished  him  also  with  the  name  of  Sicilius,  who 
was  admitted  King  of  Britain,  A.  M.  3659.  The  name  of  Leo- 
natus  he  found  in  Sidney's  Arcadia.  Leonatus  is  there  the  le- 
gitimate son  of  the  blind  King  of  Paphlagonia,  on  whose  story 
the  episode  of  Gloster,  Edgar,  and  Edmund,  is  formed  in  King 
Lear.  See  Arcadia,  p.  69,  edit.  1593.  MALONE. 

Shakspeare,  having  already  introduced  Leonato  among  the 
characters  in  Much  Ado  about  Not/ting,  had  not  far  to  go  for 
Leonutw.v.  STEEVENS. 

9 Posthumus;]  Old  copy — Posthumus  Leonatus.    REED. 

' Liv'd  in  court, 

(Which  rare  it  is  to  do,)  most  prais'd,  most  lov'd:]  This 
encomium  is  high  and  artful.  To  be  at  once  in  any  great  degree 
loved  and  praised,  is  truly  rare.  JOHNSON. 

1  A  glass  that  feated  them;]     A  glass  that  formed  them;  a 


sc.  /.  CYMBELINE. 

A  child  that  guided  dotards  :  to  his  mistress,2 
For  whom  he  now  is  banish*  d, — her  own  price 
Proclaims  how  she  esteem'd  him  and  his  virtue; 
By  her  election  may  be  truly  read, 
What  kind  of  man  he  is. 

2  GENT.  I  honour  him 


model,  by  the  contemplation  and  inspection  of  which  they  formed 
their  manners.     JOHNSON. 

This  passage  may  be  well  explained  by  another  in  The  First 
Part  of  King  Henry  IV: 

" He  was  indeed  the  glass 

"  Wherein  the  noble  youths  did  dress  themselves." 
Again,  Ophelia  describes  Hamlet,  as — 

"  The  glass  of  fashion,  and  the  mould  of  form." 
To  dress  themselves,  therefore,  may  be  to  form  themselves. 

Dresser,  in  French,  is  to  form.  To  dress  a  spaniel  is  to  break 
him  in. 

Feat  is  nice,  exact.     So,  in  The  Tempest : 

" look,  how  well  my  garments  sit  upon  me, 

"  Much  J "eater  than  before." 

To  feat,  therefore,  may  be  a  verb  meaning — to  render  nice, 
exact.  By  the  dress  of  Posthumus,  even  the  more  mature  cour- 
tiers condescended  to  regulate  their  external  appearance. 

STEEVENS. 

Feat  Minsheu  interprets,  fine,  neat,  brave.  See  also  Barrett's 
Alvearie,  1580:  "  Feat  and  pleasant,  concinnce  et  venustce  sen- 
tentice" 

The  poet  does  not,  I  think,  mean  to  say  merely,  that  the  more 
mature  regulated  their  dress  by  that  of  Posthumus.  A  glass  that 
feated  them,  is  a  model,  by  viewing  which  their  form  became 
more  elegant,  and  their  manners  more  polished. 

We  have  nearly  the  same  image  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

" 1  should  blush 

"  To  see  you  so  attired ;  sworn,  I  think, 
"  To  show  my  self  a  glass." 
Again,  more  appositely,  in  Hamlet: 

"  He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 
"  That  fashion'd  others."     MALONE. 

a  • to  his  mistress,^    means — as  to  his  mistress. 

M.  MA  sox. 


410  CYMBELINE.  ACT  L 

Even  out  of  your  report.     But,  'pray  you,  tell  me, 
Is  she  sole  child  to  the  king  ? 

1  GENT.  His  only  child. 
He  had  two  sons,  (if  this  be  worth  your  hearing, 
Mark  it,)  the  eldest  of  them  at  three  years  old, 
Fthe  swathing  clothes  the  other,  from  their  nursery 
Were  stolen ;  and  to  this  hour,  no  guess  in  know- 
ledge 

Which  way  they  went. 

2  GENT.  How  long  is  this  ago  ? 

1  GENT.  Some  twenty  years. 

2  GENT.  That  a  king's  children  should  be  so 

convey  *d! 

So  slackly  guarded  !  And  the  search  so  slow, 
That  could  not  trace  them ! 

1  GENT.  Howsoe'er  'tis  strange, 
Or  that  the  negligence  may  well  be  laugh 'd  at, 
Yet  is  it  true,  sir. 

2  GENT.  I  do  well  believe  you. 

1  GENT.    We  must  forbear:  Here  comes  the 
queen,  and  princess.  [Exeunt. 


K.  i/.  CYMBELINE.  411 

SCENE  II. 

'  The  same. 
Enter  the  Queen,  POSTHUMUS,  and  IMOGEN.  3 

QUEEN.  No,  be  assur'd,  you  shall  not  find  me, 

daughter, 

After  the  slander  of  most  step-mothers, 
Evil-ey'd  unto  you :  you  are  my  prisoner,  but 
Your  gaoler  shall  deliver  you  the  keys 
That  lock  up  your  restraint.  For  you,  Posthumus, 
So  soon  as  I  can  win  the  offended  king, 
I  will  be  known  your  advocate :  marry,  yet 
The  fire  of  rage  is  in  him  ;  and.'twere  good, 
You  lean'd  unto  his  sentence,  with  what  patience 
Your  wisdom  may  inform  you. 

POST.  Please  your  highness, 

I  will  from  hence  to-day. 

QUEEN.  You  know  the  peril: — 

I'll  fetch  a  turn  about  the  garden,  pitying 
The  pangs  of  barr'd  affections;  though  the  king 
Hath  charg'd  you  should  not  speak  together. 

\_Exit  Queen. 

IMO.  O 

Dissembling  courtesy!  How  fine  this  tyrant 
Can  tickle  where  she  wounds ! — My  dearest  hus- 
band, 

3  Imogen.']    Holinshed's  Chronicle  furnished  Shakspeare 

with  this  name,  which  in  the  old  black  letter  is  scarcely  distin- 
guishable from  Innogen,  the  wife  of  Brute,  King  of  Britain. 
There  too  he  found  the  name  of  Cloten,  who,  when  the  line  of 
Brute  was  at  an  end,  was  one  of  the  five  kings  that  governed 
Britain.  Cloten,  or  Cloton,  was  King  of  Cornwall.  MALONE. 


412  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

I  something  fear  my  father's  wrath  ;  but  nothing, 

(Always  reserved  my  holy  duty,)4  what 

His  rage  can  do  on  me :  You  must  be  gone  j 

And  1  shall  here  abide  the  hourly  shot 

Of  angry  eyes ;  not  comforted  to  live, 

But  that  there  is  this  jewel  in  the  world, 

That  I  may  see  again. 

POST.  My  queen  !  my  mistress  ! 

O,  lady,  weep  no  more  ;  lest  I  give  cause 
To  be  suspected  of  more  tenderness 
Than  doth  become  a  man  !  I  will  remain 
The  loyaPst  husband  that  did  e'er  plight  troth. 
My  residence  in  Rome  at  one  Philario's  j 
Who  to  my  father  was  a  friend,  to  me 
Known  but  by  letter:  thither  write,  my  queen, 
And  with  mine  eyes  I'll  drink  the  words  you  send, 
Though  ink  be  made  of  gall.5 

Re-enter  Queen. 

QUEEN.  Be  brief,  I  pray  you: 

If  the  king  come,  I  shall  incur  I  know  not 
How  much  of  his  displeasure : — Yet  I'll  move  him 

[Aside. 

To  walk  this  way :  I  never  do  him  wrong, 
But  he  does  buy  my  injuries,  to  be  friends  j 

4  (  Always  reserved  my  holy  duty,}~\  I  say  I  do  not  fear  my  fa- 
ther, so  far  as  I  may  say  it  without  breach  of  duty.  JOHNSON. 

4  Though  ink  be  made  o/'gall.]  Shakspeare,  even  in  this  poor 
conceit,  has  confounded  the  vegetable  galls  used  in  ink,  with  the 
animal  gall,  supposed  to  be  bitter.  JOHNSON. 

The  poet  might  mean  either  the  vegetable  or  the  animal  gulls 
with  equal  propriety,  as  the  vegetable  gall  is  bitter ;  and  I  nave 
seen  an  ancient  receipt  for  making  ink,  beginning,  "  Take  of 
the  black  juice  of  the  gall  of  oxen  two  ounces,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 


ac.  n.  CYMBELINE.  413 

Pays  dear  for  my  offences.  [Exit. 

POST.  Should  we  be  taking  leave 

As  long  a  term  as  yet  we  have  to  live, 
The  loathness  to  depart  would  grow:  Adieu ! 

IMO.  Nay,  stay  a  little  : 
Were  you  but  riding  forth  to  air  yourself, 
Such  parting  were  too  petty.     Look  here,  love ; 
This  diamond  was  my  mother's :  take  it,  heart  j 
But  keep  it  till  you  woo  another  wife, 
When  Imogen  is  dead. 

POST.  How!  how!  another? — 

You  gentle  gods,  give  me  but  this  I  have, 
And  sear  up  my  embracements  from  a  next 
With  bonds  of  death ! 6 — Remain  thou  here 

[Putting  on  the  Ring. 
While  sense  can  keep  it  on!7  And  sweetest,  fairest, 

fi  And  sear  up  my  embracements  from  a  next 

With  bonds  of  death  !~]  Shakspeare  may  poetically  call  the 
cere-cloths  in  which  the  dead  are  wrapped,  the  bonds  of  death. 
If  so,  we  should  read  cere  instead  of  sear: 

"  Why  thy  canoniz'd  bones  hearsed  in  death, 
"  Have  burst  their  cerements  ?" 

To  sear  up,  is  properly  to  close  up  by  burning;  but  in  this 
passage  the  poet  may  have  dropped  that  idea,  and  used  the  word 
simply  for  to  close  up.  STEEVENS. 

May  not  sear  up,  here  mean  solder  up,  and  the  reference  be 
to  a  lead  coffin  ?  Perhaps  cerements  in  Hamlet's  address  to  the 
Ghost,  was  used  for  searments  in  the  same  sense.  HENLEY. 

I  believe  nothing  more  than  close  up  was  intended.  In  the 
spelling  of  the  last  age,  however,  no  distinction  was  made  be- 
tween cere-cloth  and  sear-cloth.  Cole,  in  his  Latin  Dictionary, 
1679,  explains  the  word  cerot  by  sear-cloth.  Shakspeare  there- 
fore certainly  might  have  had  that  practice  in  his  thoughts. 

MA  LONE. 

7  While  sense  can  keep  it  on  /]  This  expression,  I  suppose, 
means,  while  sense  can  maintain  its  operations;  while  sense  con- 
tinues to  have  its  usual  power.  That  to  keep  on  signifies  to  con- 
tinue in  a  state  of  action,  is  evident  from  the  following  passage 
in  Othello: 


414  CYMBELINE.  ACTI. 

As  I  my  poor  self  did  exchange  for  you, 
To  your  so  infinite  loss  ;  so,  in  our  trifles 
I  still  win  of  you  :  For  my  sake,  wear  this  j 
It  is  a  manacle6  of  love  ;  1*11  place  it 
Upon  this  fairest  prisoner. 

[Putting  a  Bracelet  on  her  Arm. 
IMO.  O,  the  gods ! 

When  shall  we  see  again  ? 

'* keeps  due  on 

"  To  the  Propontick"  &c. 

The  general  sense  of  Posthumus's  declaration,  is  equivalent  to 
the  Roman  phrase, — dum  spiritus  hos  regit  arlits.  STEEVENS. 

The  poet  [if  it  refers  to  the  ring"]  ought  to  have  written — 
can  keep  thee  on,  as  Mr.  Pope  and  the  three  subsequent  editors 
read.  But  Shakspeare  has  many  similar  inaccuracies.  So,  in 
Julius  CcBsar: 

"  Casca,  you  are  the  first  that  rears  your  hand.'* 
instead  of — his  hand.     Again,  in  The  Rape  ofLucrece: 
"  Time's  office  is  to  calm  contending  kings, 
"  To  unmask  falsehood,  and  bring  truth  to  light, — 
"  To  ruinate  proud  buildings  with  thy  hours, — ." 
instead  of — his  hours.     Again,  in  the  third  Act  of  the  play  be- 
fore us : 

" Euriphile, 

"  Thou  wast  their  nurse;  they  took  tJice  for  their  mother, 
"  And  every  day  do  honour  to  her  grave."  MALONE. 
As  none  of  our  author's  productions  were  revised  by  himself 
as  they  passed  from  the  theatre  through  the  press ;  and  as  Julius 
Ceesar  and  Cymbeline  are  among  the  plays  which  originally  ap- 
peared in  the  blundering  first  folio ;  it  is  hardly  fair  to  charge 
irregularities  on  the  poet,  of  which  his  publishers  alone  might 
have  been  guilty.  I  must  therefore  take  leave  to  set  down  the 
present,  and  many  similar  offences  against  the  established  rules  of 
language,  under  the  article  of  Hemingisms  and  Condelisms ;  and, 
as  such,  in  my  opinion,  they  ought,  without  ceremony,  to  be 
corrected. 

The  instance  brought  from  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  might  only 
have  been  a  compositorial  inaccuracy,  like  those  which  have  oc- 
casionally happened  in  the  course  of  our  present  republication. 

STEEVENS. 

8 «  manacle — ]     A  manacle  properly  means  what  we 

now  call  a  hand-ciiff".     STEEVENS. 


ac.  n.  CYMBELINE.  415 

Enter  CYMBELINE  and  Lords. 

POST.  Alack,  the  king ! 

CYM.  Thou  basest  thing,  avoid!  hence,  from  my 

sight ! 

If,  after  this  command,  thou  fraught  the  court 
With  thy  un worthiness,  thou  diest :  Away! 
Thou  art  poison  to  my  blood. 

POST.  The  gods  protect  you! 

And  bless  the  good  remainders  of  the  court ! 
I  am  gone.  [Exit. 

I  MO.          There  cannot  be  a  pinch  in  death 
More  sharp  than  this  is.9 

CYM.  O  disloyal  thing, 

That  should'st  repair  my  youth;1  thou  heapest 
A  year's  age  on  me  ! 2 


9  There  cannot  be  a  pinch  in  death 
More  sharp  than  this,  z's.]     So,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

" it  is  a  sufferance,  panging 

"  As  soul  and  body's  parting."     MALONE. 

1  That  should? st  repair  my  youth ;~\  i.  e.  renovate  my  youth; 
make  me  young  again.  So,  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,  1609 : 
"  —  as  for  him,  he  brought  his  disease  hither  :  here  he  doth  but 
repair  it."  Again,  in  All's  tvell  that  ends  "well: 

" it  much  repairs  me, 

"  To  talk  of  your  good  father."     MALONE. 

Again,  in  Pericles: 

"  Thou  giv'st  me  somewhat  to  repair  myself." 

STEEVENS. 

* thou  heapest 

A  year's  age  on  me!~\  The  obvious  sense  of  this  passage,  on 
which  several  experiments  have  been  made,  is  in  some  degree 
countenanced  by  what  follows  in  another  scene : 

"  And  every  day  that  comes,  comes  to  decay 
"  A  day's  tvork  in  him" 

Dr.  Warburton  would  read  "  A  yare  (i.e.  a  speedy)  age;"  Sir 
T.  Hanmer  would  restore  the  metre  by  a  supplemental  epithet : 


416  CYMBELINE.  ACT!.. 

I  MO.  I  beseech  you,  sir, 

Harm  not  yourself  with  your  vexation  ;  I 
Am  senseless  of  your  wrath ;  a  touch  more  rare 
Subdues  ail  pangs,  all  fears.3 


ihou  keapest  many 


A  year's  age  &c. 
and  Dr.  Johnson  would  give  us  : 

Years,  ages,  on  me! 

I  prefer  the  additional  word  introduced  by  Sir  Thomas  Han- 
mer,  to  all  the  other  attempts  at  emendation.  "  Many  a  year's 
age,"  is  an  idea  of  some  weight :  but  if  Cymbeline  meant  to  say 
that  his  daughter's  conduct  made  him  precisely  one  year  older, 
his  conceit  is  unworthy  both  of  himself  and  Shakspeare. — I  would 
read  with  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer.  STEEVENS. 


a  touch  more  rare 


Subdues  all  pangs,  alljears.~]     A  touch  more  rare,  may  mean 
a  nobler  passion.     JOHNSON. 

A  touch  more  rare  is  undoubtedly  a  more  exquisite  feeling;  a 
superior  sensation.     So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  I.  sc.  ii: 

"  The  death  of  Fulvia,  with  more  urgent  touches, 

"  Do  strongly  speak  to  us." 
Again,  in  The  Tempest  •• 

"  Hast  thou,  which  art  but  air,  a  touch,  a  feeling 

"  Of  their  afflictions?"  &c. 

A  touch  is  not  unfrequently  used,  by  other  ancient  writers,  in 
this  sense.     So,  in  Daniel's  Hymen's  Triumph,  a  masque,  1623: 

"  You  must  not,  Philis,  be  so  sensible 

"  Of  these  small  touches  which  your  passion  makes." 

" Small  touches,  Lydia !  do  you  count  them  small  ?" 

Again: 

"  When  pleasure  leaves  a  touch  at  last 

"  To  shew  that  it  was  ill." 
Again,  in  Daniel's  Cleopatra,  1599: 

"  So  deep  we  feel  impressed  in  our  blood 

"  That  touch  which  nature  with  our  breath  did  give.'* 
Lastly,  as  Dr.  Farmer  observes  to  me,  in  Fraunce's  Ivychurch. 
He  is  speaking  of  Mars  and  Venus  :   "  When  sweet  tickling 
joyes  of  tutching  came  to  the  highest  poynt,  when  two  were 
one,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

A  passage  in  King  Lear  will  fully  illustrate  Imogen's  meaning: 

—  where  the  greater  malady  is  fix'd, 
•*  The  lesser  is  scarce  felt."    MALONE. 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  417 

CYM.  Past  grace  ?  obedience  ? 

IMO.  Past  hope,  and  in  despair ;  that  way,  past 
grace. 

CYM.  That  might' st  have  had  the  sole  son  of 
my  queen ! 

IMO.  Obless'd,  thatlmight  not !  Ichose  an  eagle, 
And  did  avoid  a  puttock.* 

CYM.  Thou  took'st  a  beggar  j    would* st  have 

made  my  throne 
A  seat  for  baseness. 

IMO.  No ;  I  rather  added 

A  lustre  to  it. 

CYM.  O  thou  vile  one ! 

IMO.  Sir, 

It  is  your  fault  that  I  have  lov'd  Posthumus  : 
You  bred  him  as  my  play-fellow ;  and  he  is 
A  man,  worth  any  woman  j  overbuys  me 
Almost  the  sum  he  pays.5 

CYM.  What ! — art  thou  mad ! 

IMO.  Almost,  sir:  Heaven  restore  me ! — 'Would 

I  were 

A  neat-herd's  daughter !  and  my  Leonatus 
Our  neighbour  shepherd's  son  ! 

4 a  puttock.]     A  kite.    JOHNSON. 

A  puttock  is  a  mean  degenerate  species  of  hawk,  too  worthless 
to  deserve  training.     STEEVENS. 

* overbuys  me 

Almost  the  sum  he  pays.~]  So  small  is  my  value,  and  so  great 
is  his,  that  in  the  purchase  he  has  made  (for  which  he  paid 
himself,)  for  much  the  greater  part,  and  nearly  the  whole,  of 
what  he  has  given,  he  has  nothing  in  return.  The  most  minute 
portion  of  his  worth  would  be  too  high  a  price  for  the  wife  he 
has  acquired.  MALONE. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  E 


418  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 


Re-enter  Queen. 

CYM.  Thou  foolish  thing  ! — 

They  were  again  together :  you  have  done 

[To  tlie  Queen. 

Not  after  our  command.     Away  with  her, 
And  pen  her  up. 

QUEEN.  'Beseech  your  patience : — Peace, 

Dear  lady  daughter,  peace  ; — Sweet  sovereign, 
Leave  us  to  ourselves;  and  make  yourself  some 

comfort 
Out  of  your  best  advice.6 

CYM.  Nay,  let  her  languish 

A  drop  of  blood  a  day;7  and,  being  aged, 
Die  of  this  folly !  \Exit. 

Enter  PISANIO. 

QUEEN.  Fye ! — you  must  give  way  : 

Here  is  your  servant. — How  now,  sir  ?  What  news? 

Pis.  My  lord  your  son  drew  on  my  master. 
QUEEN.  Ha ! 

No  harm,  I  trust,  is  done  ? 

Pis.  There  might  have  been, 

But  that  my  master  rather  play'd  than  fought, 

" your  best  advice.]     i.  e.  consideration,  reflection.  So, 

in  Measure  for  Measure: 

"  But  did  repent  me  after  more  advice"     STEEVENS. 

7  •         let  her  languish 

A  drop  of  blood  a  day  ;]     We  meet  with  a  congenial  form 
of  malediction  in  Othello  : 

" —  may  his  pernicious  soul 

"  Rot  half  a  grain  a  day  !"     STEEVENS. 


ac.  in.  CYMBELINE.  419 

And  had  no  help  of  anger :  they  were  parted 
By  gentlemen  at  hand. 

QUEEN.  I  am  very  glad  on't. 

IMO.  Your  son's  my  father's  friend ;  he  takes 

his  part. — 

To  draw  upon  an  exile  ! — O  brave  sir ! — 
I  would  they  were  in  Africk  both  together ; 
Myself  by  with  a  needle,  that  I  might  prick 
The  goer  back. — Why  came  you  from  your  master? 

Pis.  On  his  command:  He  would  not  suffer  me 
To  bring  him  to  the  haven  :  left  these  notes 
Of  what  commands  I  should  be  subject  to, 
When  it  pleas' d  you  to  employ  me. 

QUEEN.  This  hath  been 

Your  faithful  servant :  I  dare  lay  mine  honour, 
He  will  remain  so. 

Pis.  I  humbly  thank  your  highness. 

QUEEN.  Pray,  walk  a  while. 

IMO.  About  some  half  hour  hence, 

I  pray  you,  speak  with  me  :  you  shall,  at  least, 
Go  see  my  lord  aboard :  for  this  time,  leave  me. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  III. 

A  publtck  Place. 

Enter  CLOTEN,  and  Two  Lords. 

1  LORD.  Sir,  I  would  advise  you  to  shift  a  shirt ; 
the  violence  of  action  hath  made  you  reek  as  a  sa- 
crifice :  Where  air  comes  out,  air  comes  in :  there's 
none  abroad  so  wholesome  as  that  you  vent. 

2  E  2 


420  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

CLO.  If  my  shirt  were  bloody,  then  to  shift  it — 
Have  I  hurt  him  ? 

2  LORD.  No,  faith  ;  not  so  much  as  his  patience. 

[Aside. 

1  LORD.  Hurt  him  ?  his  body's  a  passable  car- 
case, if  he  be  not  hurt:  it  is  a  thoroughfare  for 
steel,  if  it  be  not  hurt. 

2  LORD.  His  steel  was  in  debt ;  it  went  o'the 
backside  the  town.  [Aside. 

CLO.  The  villain  would  not  stand  me. 

2  LORD.  No ;  but  he  fled  forward  still,  toward 
your  face. 8  [Aside. 

1  LORD.  Stand  you !  You  have  land  enough  of 
your  own :  but  he  added  to  your  having ;  gave 
you  some  ground. 

2  LORD.  As  many  inches  as  you  have  oceans  : 
Puppies !  [Aside. 

CLO.  I  would,  they  had  not  come  between  us. 

2  LORD.  So  would  I,  till  you  had  measured  how 
long  a  fool  you  were  upon  the  ground.  [Aside. 

CLO.  And  that  she  should  love  this  fellow,  and 
refuse  me  ! 

2  LORD.  If  it  be  a  sin  to  make  a  true  election, 
she  is  damned.  [Aside. 

1  LORD.  Sir,  as  I  told  you  always,  her  beauty 
and  her  brain  go  not  together  :9  She's  a  good  sign, 
but  I  have  seen  small  reflection  of  her  wit.  * 

8 he  fiedfonvard  still,  toward  your  face.]    So,  in  Troilua 

and  Cresslda  : 

" thou  shall  hunt  a  lion,  that  will  fly 

"  With  his  face  backward."     STEEVENS. 
9  — —  her  beauty  and  her  brain  go  not  together :]     I  believe 
the  lord  meune  to  speak  a  sentence,  "  Sir,  as  I  told  you  always 
beauty  and  brain  go  nor  together."     JOHNSON* 


sc.  m.  CYMBELINE.  421 

2  LORD.  She  shines  not  upon  fools,  lest  the  re- 
flection should  hurt  her.  \_Aside. 

CLO.  Come,  I'll  to  my  chamber :  'Would  there 
had  been  some  hurt  done  ! 

2  LORD.  I  wish  not  so  ;  unless  it  had  been  the 
fall  of  an  ass,  which  is  no  great  hurt.  [Aside. 

CLO.  You'll  go  with  us  ? 

1  LORD.  I'll  attend  your  lordship. 
CLO.  Nay,  come,  let's  go  together. 

2  LORD.  Well,  my  lord.  \Exeunt. 


That  is,  are  not  equal,  "  ne  vont  pas  depair."  A  similar  ex- 
pression occurs  in  The  Laws  of  Candy,  where  Gonzalo,  speak- 
ing of  Erota,  says : 

" and  walks 

"  Her  tongue  the  same  gait  with  her  wit  ?"  M.  MASON. 
1  She's   a  good  sign,  but  I  have  seen  small  reflection  of  her 
luit.']     She  has  a  fair  outside,  a  specious  appearance,  but  no  wit. 
0  quanta  species,  cerebrum  non  habet!  Phaedrus.     EDWARDS. 

I  believe  the  poet  meant  nothing  by  sign,  but  fair  outward 
show.  JOHNSON. 

The  same  allusion  is  common  to  other  writers.  So,  in  Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher's  Fair  Maid  of  the  Inn  : 

" . a  common  trull, 

"  A  tempting  sign,  and  curiously  set  forth, 
"  To  draw  in  riotous  guests." 
Again,  in  The  Elder  Brother,  by  the  same  authors: 

"  Stand  still,  thou  sign  of  man." 

To  understand  the  whole  force  of  Shakspeare's  idea,  it  should 
be  remembered,  that  anciently  almost  every  sign  had  a  motto, 
or  some  attempt  at  a  witticism,  underneath  it.  STEEVENS. 

In  a  subsequent  scene,  lachimo  speaking  of  Imogen,  says : 
"  All  of  her,  that  is  out  of  door,  most  rich ! 
"  If  she  be  furnish'd  with  a  mind  so  rare, 
"  She  is  alone  the  Arabian  bird."    MALONE. 


422  CYMBELINE,  ACT  i. 

SCENE  IV. 

A  Room  in  Cymbeline's  Palace. 

Enter  IMOGEN  and  PISANIO. 

IMO.  I  would  thou  grew'st  unto  the  shores 

o'the  haven, 

And  question'dst  every  sail :  if  he  should  write, 
And  I  not  have  it,  'twere  a  paper  lost 
As  offer'd  mercy  is.2  What  was  the  last 
That  he  spake  to  thee  ? 

Pis.  'Twas,  His  queen,  his  queen  ! 

IMO.  Then  wav'd  his  handkerchief? 

Pis.  And  kiss'd  it,  madam. 

IMO.  Senseless  linen  !  happier  therein  than  1 1 — 
And  that  was  all  ? 

Pis.  No,  madam  ;  for  so  long 

As  he  could  make  me  with  this  eye  or  ear3 


'twere  a  paper  lost, 


As  offer'd  mercy  is."]  I  believe  the  poet's  meaning  is,  that 
the  loss  of  that  paper  would  prove  as  fatal  to  her,  as  the  loss  of 
a  pardon  to  a  condemned  criminal. 

A  thought  resembling  this  occurs  in  All' stvell  that  ends  well: 
"  Like  a  remorseful  pardon  slowly  carried."  STEEVENS. 

3 ivith  this  eye  or  ear — ]     [Old  copy — his  eye,  &c.] 

But  how  could  Posthumus  make  himself  distinguished  by  his  ear 
to  Pisanio  ?  By  his  tongue  he  might  to  the  other's  ear,  and  this 
was  certainly  Shakspeare's  intention.  We  must  therefore  read : 

As  he  could  make  me  tvith  this  eye,  or  ear, 

Distinguish  Mm  from  others, 

The  expression  is  §sixrixuj$,  as  the  Greeks  term  it :  the  party 
speaking  points  to  the  part  spoken  of.  WARBURTON. 


ac.  ir.  CYMBELINE.  423 

Distinguish  him  from  others,  he  did  keep 
The  deck,  with  glove,  or  hat,  or  handkerchief, 
Still  waving,  as  the  fits  and  stirs  of  his  mind 
Could  best  express  how  slow  his  soul  saiPd  on, 
How  swift  his  ship. 

IMO.  Thou  should'st  have  made  him 

As  little  as  a  crow,  or  less,4  ere  left 
To  after-eye  him. 

Pis.  Madam,  so  I  did. 

i 
Sir  T.  Hanmer  alters  it  thus : 

-for  so  long 

As  he  could  mark  me  with  his  eye,  or  I 

Distinguish 

The  reason  of  Sir  T.  Hanmer's  reading  was,  that  Pisanio  de- 
scribes no  address  made  to  the  ear.     JOHNSON. 

This  description,' and  what  follows  it,  seems  imitated  from  the 
eleventh  Book  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis.  See  Golding's  transla- 
tion, p.  146,  b.  &c : 

"  She  lifting  up  hir  watrie  eies  beheld  her  husband" 

stand 
"  Upon  the  hatches  making  signes  by  becking  with 

his  hand : 
"  And  she  made  signes  to  him  againe.     And  after 

that  the  land 
"  Was  farre  removed  from  the  ship,  and  that  the  sight 

began 

"  To  be  unable  to  discerne  the  face  of  any  man, 
"  As  long  as  ere  she  could  she  lookt  upon  the  rowing 

keele. 
"  And  when  she  could  no  longer  time  for  distance  ken  it 

weele, 
"  She  looked  still  upon  the  sailes  that  flasked  with  the 

wind 
"  Upon  the  mast.     And  when  she  could  the  sailes  no 

longer  find, 
"  She  gate  hir  to  hir  emtie  bed  with  sad  and  sorie 

hart,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

*  As  little  as  a  crow,  or  less,'}  This  comparison  may  be  illus- 
trated by  the  following  in  King  Lear  : 

" the  crows  that  wing  the  midway  air, 

"  Show  scarce  so  gross  as  beetles."     STBEVENS. 


424  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

IMO.  I  would  have  broke   mine   eye-strings ; 

crack'd  them,  but 

To  look  upon  him  ;  till  the  diminution 
Of  space  had  pointed  him  sharp  as  my  needle:5 
Nay,  follow'd  him,  till  he  had  melted  from 
The  smallness  of  a  gnat  to  air ;  and  then 
Have  turn'd  mine  eye,  and  wept. — But,  good  Pi- 

sanio, 
When  shall  we  hear  from  him  ? 

Pis.  Be  assur'd,  madam, 

With  his  next  vantage.6 

IMO.  I  did  not  take  my  leave  of  him,  but  had 
Most  pretty  things  to  say:  ere  I  could  tell  him, 
How  I  would  think  on  him,  at  certain  hours, 
Such  thoughts,  and  such;  or  I  could  make  him  swear 
The  shes  of  Italy  should  not  betray 
Mine  interest,  and  his  honour;  orhavecharg'dhim, 
At  the  sixth  hour  of  morn,  at  noon,  at  midnight, 
To  encounter  me  with  orisons,7  for  then 
I  am  in  heaven  for  him;8  or  ere  I  could 
Give  him  that  parting  kiss,  which  I  had  set 


till  the  diminution 


Of  space  had  pointed  him  sharp  as  my  needle:"]  The  dimi~ 
nntion  of  space •,  is  the  diminution  of  which  space  is  the  cause. 
Trees  are  killed  by  a  blast  of  lightning,  that  is,  by  blasting,  not 
blasted  lightning.  JOHNSON. 


next  vantage.]     Next  opportunity.    JOHNSON. 


So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor : 

"  And  when  the  doctor  spies  his  vantage  ripe,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

7 encounter  me  tvith  orisons,']     i.  e.  meet  me  with  reci- 
procal prayer.     So,  in  Macbeth: 

"  See,  they  encounter  thee  with  their  hearts'  thanks." 

STEEVENS. 

8  /  am  in.  heaven  for  him;"]  My  solicitations  ascend  to  heaven 
on  his  behalf.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  425 

Betwixt  two  charming  words,9  comes  in  my  father, 
And,  like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north, 
Shakes  all  our  buds  from  growing.1 


or  ere  I  could 


Give  him  that  parting  kiss,  txihich  I  had  set 
Betwixt  two  charming  words,']  Dr.  Warburton  pronounces 
as  absolutely  as  if  he  had  been  present  at  their  parting,  that 
these  two  charming  words  were — adieu  Posthumus  ;  but  as  Mr. 
Edwards  has  observed,  "  she  must  have  understood  the  language 
of  love  very  little,  if  she  could  find  no  tenderer  expression  of  it, 
than  the  name  by  which  every  one  called  her  husband." 

STEEVENS. 

1 like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north, 

Shakes  all  our  bnAsfrom  growing.^  i.  e.  our  buds  of  love,  as 
our  author  has  elsewhere  expressed  it.  Dr.  Warburton,  be- 
cause the  buds  of  flowers  are  here  alluded  to,  very  idly  reads — 
Shakes  all  our  buds  from  blowing. 

The  buds  of  flowers  undoubtedly  are  meant,  and  Shakspeare 
himself  has  told  us  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  that  they  grow  : 
"  This  bud  of  love,  by  summer's  ripening  breath 
"  May  prove  a  beauteous  flower,  when  next  we  meet.'* 

MALONE. 

A  bud  without  any  distinct  idea,  whether  of  flower  or  fruit, 
is  a  natural  representation  of  any  thing  incipient  or  immature ; 
and  the  buds  of  flowers,  if  flowers  are  meant,  grow  to  flowers,  as 
the  buds  of  fruits  grow  to  fruits.  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Warburton's  emendation  may  in  some  measure  be  con- 
firmed by  those  beautiful  lines  in  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen, 
which  I  have  no  doubt  were  written  by  Shakspeare.  Emilia  is 
speaking  of  a  rose: 

"  It  is  the  very  emblem  of  a  maid. 

"  For  when  the  west  wind  courts  her  gentily, 

"  How  modestly  she  blows  and  paints  the  sun 

"  With  her  chaste  blushes  ? — when  the  north  comes  near 

her 

"  Rude  and  impatient,  then  like  chastity, 
"  She  locks  her  beauties  in  the  bud  again, 
"  And  leaves  him  to  base  briars."  FARMER. 

I  think  the  old  reading  may  be  sufficiently  supported  by  the 
following  passage  in  the  18th  Sonnet  of  our  author  : 

"  Rough  winds  do  shake  the  darling  buds  of  May." 
Again,  in  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  : 

"  Confounds  thy  fame,  as  whirlwinds  shake  fair  buds" 


426  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 


Enter  a  Lady. 

LADY.  The  queen,  madam, 

Desires  your  highness*  company. 

IMO.  Those  things  I  bid  you  do,  get  them  de- 

spatch'd. — 
I  will  attend  the  queen. 

Pis.  Madam,  I  shall. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  V. 

Rome.     An  Apartment  in  Philario's  House. 

Enter  PHILARIO,   lACHino,2    a  Frenchman,  a 
Dutchman,  and  a  Spaniard.3 

IACH.  Believe  it,  sir  :  I  have  seen  him  in  Britain : 
he  was  then  of  a  crescent  note  ;  expected  to  prove 
so  worthy,  as  since  he  hath  been  allowed  the  name 

Lyly,  in  his  Euphues,  1581,  as  Mr.  Holt  White  observes,  has  a 
similar  expression :  "  The  tvinde  shalceth  off  the  blossome,  as 
well  as  the  fruit."  STEEVENS. 

2 lachimo,"]     The  name  of  Giacomo  occurs  in  The  Two 

Gentlemen  of  Venice,  a  novel,  which  immediately  follows  that 
of  Rhomeo  and  Julietta  in  the  second  tome  of  Painter's  Palace  of 
Pleasure.  MALONE. 

3 a  Dutchman,  and  a  Spaniard.]  Thus  the  old  copy ; 

but  Mynheer,  and  the  Don,  are  mute  characters. 

Shakspeare,  however,  derived  this  circumstance  from  what- 
ever translation  of  the  original  novel  he  made  use  of.  Thus,  in 
the  ancient  one  described  in  our  Prolegomena  to  this  drama : 
"  Howe  iiii  merchauntes  met  all  togyther  in  on  way,  whych* 
were  of  iiii  dy  verse  landes,"  &c.  STESVBNS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  427 

of:  but  I  could  then  have  looked  on  him  without 
the  help  of  admiration ;  though  the  catalogue  of 
his  endowments  had  been  tabled  by  his  side,  and  I 
to  peruse  him  by  items. 

PHI.  You  speak  of  him  when  he  was  less  fur- 
nished, than  now  he  is,  with  that  which  makes 
him4  both  without  and  within. 

FRENCH.  I  have  seen  him  in  France  :  we  had 
very  many  there,  could  behold  the  sun  with  as  firm 
eyes  as  he. 

IACH.  This  matter  of  marrying  his  king's  daugh- 
ter, (wherein  he  must  be  weighed  rather  by  her 
value,  than  his  own,)  words  him,  I  doubt  not,  a 
great  deal  from  the  matter.5 

FRENCH.  And  then  his  banishment : 

IACH.  Ay,  and  the  approbation  of  those,  that 
weep  this  lamentable  divorce,  under  her  colours,6 
are  wonderfully  to  extend  himj7  be  it  but  to  for- 

4  — —  makes  him — ]    In  the  sense  in  which  we  say,  This 
will  make  or  mar  you.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello  : 

" . This  is  the  night 

"  That  either  makes  me,  or  fordoes  me  quite." 

STEEVENS. 

Makes  him,  in  the  text,  meansjfonws  him.    M.  MASON. 

5 "words  him, a  great  deal  from  the  matter.'}     Makes 

the  description  of  him  very  distant  from  the  truth.     JOHNSON. 

6 under  her  colours,]  Under  her  banner ;  by  her  influ- 
ence. JOHNSON. 

7 and  the  approbation  of  those, are  wonderfully  to  ex- 
tend him;']  This  grammatical  inaccuracy  is  common  in  Shak- 
speare's  plays.  So,  in  Julius  Ccesar: 

"  The  posture  of  your  blows  are  yet  unknown." 
[See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  397,  n.  4.]     The  modern  editors,  however, 
read — approbations. 

Extend  has  here  the  same  meaning  as  in  a  former  scene.  See 
p.  406,  n.  4. 


428  CYMBEL1NE.  ACT  i. 

tify  her  judgment,  which  else  an  easy  battery  might 
lay  flat,  for  taking  a  beggar  without  more  quality.8 
But  how  comes  it,  he  is  to  sojourn  with  you  ?  How 
creeps  acquaintance  ? 

PHI.  His  father  and  I  were  soldiers  together;  to 

I  perceive  no  inaccuracy  on  the  present  occasion.  "  This 
matter  of  his  marrying  his  king's  daughter," — "  and  then  his  ba- 
nishment;"— "  and  the  approbation  of  those,"  &c.  "are  (i.  e. 
all  these  circumstances  united)  wonderfully  to  extend  him." 

STEEVENS. 

8 "without  more  quality."]     The  folio  reads  less  quality. 

Mr.  Rowe  first  made  the  alteration.     STEEVENS. 

Whenever  less  or  more  is  to  be  joined  with  a  verb  denoting 
want,  or  a  preposition  of  a  similar  import,  Shakspeare  never  fails 
to  be  entangled  in  a  grammatical  inaccuracy,  or  rather,  to  use 
words  that  express  the  very  contrary  of  what  he  means.  In  a 
note  on  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  I  have  proved  this  incontestably, 
by  comparing  a  passage  similar  to  that  in  the  text  with  the  words 
of  Plutarch  on  which  it  is  formed.  The  passage  is : 

" 1 —  condemn  myself  to  lack 

"  The  courage  of  a  woman,  less  noble  mind 

"  Than  she — " 
Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

" I  ne'er  heard  yet 

"  That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  wanted 

"  Less  impudence,  to  gainsay  what  they  did, 

"  Than  to  perform  it  first." 
Again,  in  King  Lear  : 

" I  have  hope 

"  You  less  know  how  to  value  her  deserts 

"  Than  she  to  scant  her  duty." 

See  note  on  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  IV.  sc.  xii.  Mr.  Rowe 
and  all  the  subsequent  editors  read — without  more  quality,  and 
so  undoubtedly  Shakspeare  ought  to  have  written.  On  the  stage, 
an  actor  may  rectify  such  petty  errors ;  but  it  is  the  duty  of  an 
editor  to  exKibit  what  his  author  wrote.  MALONE. 

As  on  this  occasion,  and  several  others,  we  can  only  tell  what 
Hemings  and  Condel  printed,  instead  of  knowing,  with  any  de- 
gree of  certainty,  what  Shakspeare  wrote,  I  have  not  disturbed 
Mr.  Howe's  emendation,  which  leaves  a  clear  passage  to  the 
reader,  if  he  happens  to  prefer  an  obvious  sense  to  no  sense  at 
all.  STEEVESS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  429 

whom  I  have  been  often  bound  for  no  less  than  my 
life: 


Enter  POSTHUMUS. 

Here  comes  the  Briton  :  Let  him  be  so  entertained 
amongst  you,  as  suits,  with  gentlemen  of  your 
knowing,  to  a  stranger  of  his  quality. — I  beseech 
you  all,  be  better  known  to  this  gentleman;  whom 
I  commend  to  you,  as  a  noble  friend  of  mine : 
How  worthy  he  is,  I  will  leave  to  appear  hereafter, 
rather  than  story  him  in  his  own  hearing. 

FRENCH.  Sir,  we  have  known  together  in  Or- 
leans. 

POST.  Since  when  I  have  been  debtor  to  you 
for  courtesies,  which  I  will  be  ever  to  pay,  and  yet 
pay  still.9 

FRENCH.  Sir,  you  o'er-rate  my  poor  kindness :  I 
was  glad  I  did  atone  my  countryman  and  you;1  it 
had  been  pity,  you  should  have  been  put  together 
with  so  mortal  a  purpose,  as  then  each  bore,  upon 
importance  of  so  slight  and  trivial  a  nature.2 

9 which  I  will  be  ever  to  pay,  and  yet  pay  still.']     So,  in 

All's  well  that  ends  well : 

"  Which  I  will  ever  pay,  and  pay  again, 
"  When  I  have  found  it." 
Again,  in  our  author's  30th  Sonnet : 

"  Which  I  new  pay,  as  if  not  pay'd  before.'* 

MALONE. 

1 /  did  atone  #c.]  To  atone  signifies  in  this  place  to  re- 
concile. So,  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Silent  Woman : 

"  There  had  been  some  hope  to  atone  you." 
Again,  in  Hey  wood's  English  Traveller,  1633 : 

"  The  constable  is  call'd  to  atone  the  broil." 
See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  199,  n.  8.     STEEVENS. 

* upon  importance  0/50  slight  and  trivial  a  nature.']  Im- 


450  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

POST.  By  your  pardon,  sir,  I  was?  then  a  young 
traveller :  rather  shunned  to  go  even  with  what  I 
heard,  than  in  my  every  action  to  be  guided  by 
others'  experiences:3  but,  upon  my  mended  judg- 
ment, (if  I  offend  not  to  say  it  is  mended,)  my 
quarrel  was  not  altogether  slight. 

FRENCH.  'Faith,  yes,  to  be  put  to  the  arbitre- 
ment  of  swords ;  and  by  such  two,  that  would,  by 
all  likelihood,  have  confounded  one  the  other,4  or 
have  fallen  both. 

IACH.  Can  we,  with  manners,  ask  what  was  the 
difference  ? 

FRENCH.  Safely,  I  think :  'twas  a  contention  in 
publick,  which  may,  without  contradiction,5  suffer 
the  report.  It  was  much  like  an  argument  that 
fell  out  last  night,  where  each  of  us  fell  in  praise 

parlance  is  here,  as  elsewhere  in  Shakspeare,  importunity,  insti- 
gation. See  Vol.  V.  p.  416,  n.  2.  MALONE. 

So,  in  Twelfth-Night :  "  Maria  wrote  the  letter  at  Sir  To- 
by's great  importance.'*  Again,  in  King  John  : 

"  At  our  importance  hither  is  he  come."     STEEVENS. 

' rather  shunned  to  go  even  -with  what  I  heard,  &c.] 

This  is  expressed  with  a  kind  of  fantastical  perplexity.  He 
means,  I  was  then  willing  to  take  for  my  direction  the  expe- 
rience of  others,  more  than  such  intelligence  as  I  had  gathered 
myself.  JOHNSON. 

This  passage  cannot  bear  the  meaning  that  Johnson  contends 
for.  Posthumus  is  describing  a  presumptuous  young  man,  as 
he  acknowledges  himself  to  have  been  at  that  time  ;  and  means 
to  say,  that  he  rather  studied  to  avoid  conducting  himself  by  the 
opinions  of  other  people,  than  to  be  guided  by  their  experience. 
— To  take  for  direction  the  experience  of  others,  would  be  a 
proof  of  wisdom,  not  of  presumption.  M.  MASON. 

4 confounded  one  the  other,"]  To  confound,  in  our  au- 
thor's time,  signified—to  destroy.  See  Vol.  XII.  p.  368,  n.  2. 

MALOXE. 

*  — —  "which  may,  without  contradiction, ~\  Which,  undoubt- 
edly, may  be  publickly  told.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  431 

of  our  country  mistresses:  This  gentleman  at  that 
time  vouching,  (and  upon  warrant  of  bloody  af- 
firmation,) his  to  be  more  fair,  virtuous,  wise, 
chaste,  constant-qualified,  and  less  attemptible, 
than  any  the  rarest  of  our  ladies  in  France. 

IACH.  That  lady  is  not  now  living  j  or  this  gen- 
tleman's opinion,  by  this,  worn  out. 

POST.  She  holds  her  virtue  still,  and  I  my  mind. 

IACH.  You  must  not  so  far  prefer  her  'fore  ours 
of  Italy. 

POST.  Being  so  far  provoked  as  I  was  in  France, 
I  would  abate  her  nothing ;  though  I  profess  my- 
self her  adorer,  not  her  friend.6 


8 though  I  profess  &c.]  Though  I  have  not  the  common 

obligations  of  a  lover  to  his  mistress,  and  regard  her  not  with  the 
fondness  of  a  friend,  but  the  reverence  of  an  adorer. 

JOHNSON. 

The  sense  seems  to  require  a  transposition  of  these  words, 
and  that  we  should  read  : 

Though  I  profess  myself  her  friend,  not  her  adorer. 
meaning  thereby,  the  praises  he  bestowed  on  her  arose  from  his 
knowledge  of  her  virtues,  not  from  a  superstitious  reverence  only. 
If  Posthumus  wished  to  be  believed,  as  he  surely  did,  the  de- 
claring that  his  praises  proceeded  from  adoration,  would  lessen 
the  credit  of  them,  and  counteract  his  purpose.  In  confirmation 
of  this  conjecture,  we  find  that  in  the  next  page  he  acknow- 
ledges her  to  be  his  wife. — lachimo  afterwards  says  in  the  same 
sense : 

"  You  are  a  friend,  and  therein  the  wiser." 
Which  would  also  serve  to  confirm  my  amendment,  if  it  were 
the  right  reading ;  but  I  do  not  think  it  is.     M.  MASON. 

I  am  not  certain  that  the  foregoing  passages  have  been  com- 
pletely understood  by  either  commentator,  for  want  of  acquaint- 
ance with  the  peculiar  sense  in  which  the  word  friend  may  have 
been  employed. 

A  friend  in  ancient  colloquial  language,  is  occasionally  syno- 
nymous to  a  paramour  or  inamorato  of  either  sex,  in  both  the 
favourable  and  unfavourable  sense  of  that  word.     "  Save  you 
friend  Cassio  !"  says  Bianca  in  Othello  ;  and  Lucio,  in  Measure 


432  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

IACH.  As  fair,  and  as  good,  (a  kind  of  hand-in- 
hand  comparison,)  had  been  something  too  fair, 
and  too  good,  for  any  lady  in  Britany.  If  she  went 
before  others  I  have  seen,  as  that  diamond  of  yours 
out-lustres  many  I  have  beheld,  I  could  not  but  be- 
lieve she  excelled  many :  but  I  have  not  seen  the 
most  precious  diamond  that  is,  nor  you  the  lady.7 


for  Measure,  informs  Isabella  that  her  brother  Claudio  "hath  got 
his  friend  [Julietta]  with  child."  Friend,  in  short,  is  one  of 
those  "fond  adoptions  Christendoms  that  blinking  Cupid  gossips," 
many  of  which  are  catalogued  by  Helen  in  All's  -well  that  ends 
•well,  and  friend  is  one  of  the  number : 

"  A  mother,  and  a  mistress,  and  a. friend, 

"  A  phoenix,  captain,  and  an  enemy." 

This  word,  though  with  some  degradation,  is  still  current  among 
the  harlotry  of  London,  who,  (like  Macheath's  doxies,)  as  often 
as  they  have  occasion  to  talk  about  their  absent  keepers,  inva- 
riably call  them  thelrfriends.  In  this  sense  the  word  is  also  used 
by  lago,  in  Othello,  Act  IV.  sc.  i: 

"  Or  to  be  naked  with  her  friend  abed." 
Posthumus  means  to  bestow  the  most  exalted  praise  on  Imo- 
gen, a  praise  the  more  valuable  as  it  was  the  result  of  reason, 
not  of  amorous  dotage.  I  make  my  avowal,  says  he,  in  the  cha- 
racter of  her  adorer,  not  of  her  possessor. — I  speak  of  her  as  a 
being  I  reverence,  not  as  a  beauty  whom  I  enjoy — I  rather  pro- 
fess to  describe  her  with  the  devotion  of  a  worshipper,  than  the 
raptures  of  a  lover.  This  sense  of  the  word  also  appears  to  be 
confirmed  by  a  subsequent  remark  of  lachimo: 

"  You  are  a  friend,  and  therein  the  wiser." 
i.  e.  you  are  a  lover,  and  therefore  show  your  wisdom  in  oppos- 
ing all  experiments  that   may  bring  your  lady's  chastity  into 
question.     STEEVENS. 

7  If  she  went  before  others  I  have  seen,  as  that  diamond  of  yours 
out-lustres  many  I  have  beheld,  I  could  not  but  believe  she  excelled 
many:  but  I  have  not  seen  the  most  precious  diamond  that  is,  nor 
you  the  lady.~\  The  old  copy  reads — /  could  not  believe  she  ex- 
ceWdmany;  but  it  is  on  all  hands  allowed  that  the  reasoning  of 
lachimo,  as  it  stands  there,  is  inconclusive. 

On  this  account,  Dr.  Warburton  reads,  omitting  the  word — 
not,  "  I  could  believe  she  excelled  many." 

Mr.  Heath  proposes  to  read,  "  I  could  but  believe"  &c. 


sc.  V.  CYMBELINE.  433 

POST.  I  praised  her  as  I  rated  her :  so  do  I  my 
stone. 

IACH.  "What  do  you  esteem  it  at  ? 
POST.  More  than  the  world  enjoys. 

IACH.  Either  your  unparagoned  mistress  is  dead, 
or  she's  outprized  by  a  trifle. 

POST.  You  are  mistaken :  the  one  may  be  sold,  or 
given ;  if  there  were8  wealth  enough  for  the  pur- 
chase, or  merit  for  the  gift :  the  other  is  not  a  thing 
for  sale,  and  only  the  gift  of  the  gods. 

IACH.  Which  the  gods  have  given  you  ? 
POST.  Which,  by  their  graces,  I  will  keep. 

IACH.  You  may  wear  her  in  title  yours :  but,  you 
know,  strange  fowl  light  upon  neighbouring  ponds. 
Your  ring  may  be  stolen  too :  so,  of  your  brace  of 
unprizeable  estimations,  the  one  is  but  frail,  and 
the  other  casual ;  a  cunning  thief,  or  a  that- way- 
accomplished  courtier,  would  hazard  the  winning 
both  of  first  and  last. 

POST.  Your  Italy  contains  none  so  accomplished 
a  courtier,  to  convince  the  honour  of  my  mistress  j9 


Mr.  Malone,  whom  I  have  followed,  exhibits  the  passage  as 
it  appears  in  the  present  text. 

The  reader  who  wishes  to  know  more  on  this  subject,  may 
consult  a  note  in  Mr.  Malone's  edit.  Vol.  VIII.  p.  327,  328,  and 
329.  STEEVENS. 

8 if  there  were — ]     Old  copy — or  if— for  the  purchases, 

&c.  the  compositor  having  inadvertently  repeated  the  word — or, 
which  has  just  occurred.  The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.Rowe. 

MALONE. 

9 to  convince  the  honour  of  my  mistress ;]     Convince  for 

overcome.     WARBURTON. 


So,  in  Macbeth  : 

" their  malady  convinces 

"  The  great  essay  of  art."     JOHNSON. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  F 


43*  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

if,  in  the  holding  or  loss  of  that,  you  term  her  frail. 
I  do  nothing  doubt,  you  have  store  of  thieves  j  not- 
withstanding I  fear  not  my  ring. 

PHI.  Let  us  leave  here,  gentlemen. 

POST.  Sir,  with  all  my  heart.  This  worthy 
signior,  I  thank  him,  makes  no  stranger  of  me  j  we 
are  familiar  at  first. 

IACH.  With  five  times  so  much  conversation,  I 
should  get  ground  of  your  fair  mistress :  make  her 
go  back,  even  to  the  yielding ;  had  I  admittance, 
and  opportunity  to  friend. 

POST.  No,  no. 

IACH.  I  dare,  thereon,  pawn  the  moiety  of  my 
estate  to  your  ring ;  which,  in  my  opinion,  o'er- 
values  it  something :  But  I  make  my  wager  rather 
against  your  confidence,  than  her  reputation  :  and, 
to  bar  your  offence  herein  too,  I  durst  attempt  it 
against  any  lady  in  the  world. 

POST.  You  are  a  great  deal  abused1  in  too  bold 
a  persuasion;  and  I  doubt  not  you  sustain  what 
you're  worthy  of,  by  your  attempt. 

IACH.  What's  that  ? 

POST.  A  repulse :  Though  your  attempt,  as  you 
call  it,  deserve  more  j  a  punishment  too. 

PHI.  Gentlemen,  enough  of  this :  it  came  in  too 
suddenly;  let  it  die  as  it  was  born,  and,  I  pray  you, 
be  better  acquainted. 

IACH.  'Would  I   had  put  my  estate,  and  my 


1  • abused — ]     Deceived.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Othello: 

"  The  Moor's  abus'dby  some  most  villainous  knave." 

STEEVENS. 


*:.  v.  CYMBELINE.  435 

neighbour's,  on  the  approbation2  of  what  I  have, 
spoke. 

POST.  What  lady  would  you  choose  to  assail  ? 

IACH.  Yours ;  whom  in  constancy,  you  think, 
stands  so  safe.  I  will  lay  you  ten  thousand  ducats 
to  your  ring,  that,  commend  me  to  the  court  where 
your  lady  is,  with  no  more  advantage  than  the  op- 
portunity of  a  second  conference,  and  I  will  bring 
from  thence  that  honour  of  hers,  which  you  ima- 
gine so  reserved. 

POST.  I  will  wage  against  your  gold,  gold  to  it : 
my  ring  I  hold  dear  as  my  finger ;  'tis  part  of  it. 

IACH.  You  are  a  friend,  and  therein  the  wiser.3 

8  ——approbation — ]     Proof.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Henry  V : 

" how  many,  now  in  health, 

"  Shall  drop  their  blood  in  approbation 

"  Of  what  your  reverence  shall  incite  us  to." 

STEEVENS. 

3  You  are  a  friend,  and  therein  the  taiser.~\     I  correct  it : 

You  are  afraid,  and  therein  the  'wiser. 

What  lachimo  says,  in  the  close  of  his  speech,  determines  this 
to  have  been  our  poet's  reading : 

" But,  I  see,  you  have  some  religion  in  you,  that 

youjtear."     WARBURTON. 

You  are  a  friend  to  the  lady,  and  therein  the  'wiser,  as  you  will  - 
not  expose  her  to  hazard  ;  and  that  you  fear  is  a  proof  of  your 
religious  fidelity.     JOHNSON. 

Though  Dr.  Warburton  affixed  his  name  to  the  preceding 
note,  it  is  verbatim  taken  from  one  written  by. Mr.  S^dfealcl  on 
this  passage. 

[But  let  it  be  remembered,  that  Dr.  \5farburton  communi- 
cated many  notes  to  Theobald  before  he  published  his  own  edi- 
tion, and  complains  that  he  was  not  fairly  deal*  with  concerning 
them.  REED.] 

A  friend  in  our  author's  time  often  signified  a  lover.  lachimo 
therefore  might  mean  that  Posthumus  was  wise  in  being  only  the 
lover  of  Imogen,  and  not  having  bound  himself  to  her  by  the 

2  F  2 


436  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

If  you  buy  ladies'  flesh  at  a  million  a  dram,  you 
cannot  preserve  it  from  tainting :  But,  I  see,  you 
have  some  religion  in  you,  that  you  fear. 

POST.  This  is  but  a  custom  in  your  tongue  j  you 
bear  a  graver  purpose,  I  hop.e. 

IACH.  I  am  the  master  of  my  speeches;4  and 
would  undergo  what's  spoken,  I  swear. 

POST.  Will  you  ? — I  shall  but  lend  my  diamond 
till  your  return : — Let  there  be  covenants  drawn  be- 
tween us :  My  mistress  exceeds  in  goodness  the 
hugeness  of  your  unworthy  thinking :  I  dare  you 
to  this  match  :  here's  my  ring. 

PHI.  I  will  have  it  no  lay. 
IACH.  By  the  gods  it  is  one  : — If  I  bring  you  no 
sufficient  testimony  that  I  have  enjoyed  the  dearest 


indissoluble  ties  of  marriage.  But  unluckily  Posthumus  has  al- 
ready said  he  is  not  her  friend,  but  her  adorer :  this  therefore 
could  hardly  have  been  lachimo's  meaning. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  am  entirely  satisfied  with  Dr.  Johnson's 
interpretation  ;  yet  I  have  nothing  better  to  propose.  "  You  are 
a  friend  to  the  lady,  and  therefore  will  not  expose  her  to  hazard." 
This  surely  is  not  warranted  by  what  Posthumus  has  just  said. 
He  is  ready  enough  to  expose  her  to  hazard.  He  has  actually 
exposed  her  to  hazard  by  accepting  the  wager.  He  will  not  in- 
deed risk  his  diamond,  but  has  offered  to  lay  a  sum  of  money, 
that  lachimo,  "  with  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot,"  will  not 
be  able  to  corrupt  her.  I  do  not  therefore  see  the  force  of 
lachimo's  observation.  It  would  have  been  more  "  german  to 
the  matter"  to  have  said,  in  allusion  to  the  former  words  of  Post- 
humus— You  are  not  a  friend,  i.e.  a  lover,  and  therein  the  wiser: 
for  all  women  are  corruptible.  MALONE. 

See  p.  4-31,  and  432,  n.  6.  Though  the  reply  of  lachimo  may 
not  have  been  warranted  by  the  preceding  words  of  Posthumus, 
it  was  certainly  meant  by  the  speaker  as  a  provoking  circum- 
stance, a  circumstance  of  incitation  to  the  wager.  STEEVENS. 

4  lam  the  master  of  my  speeches;"}  i.  e.  I  know  what  I  have  said ; 
I  said  no  more  than  I  meant.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  457 

bodily  part  of  your  mistress,  my  ten  thousand  du- 
cats are  yours ;  so  is  your  diamond  too.  If  I  come 
off,  and  leave  her  in  such  honour  as  you  have  trust 
in,  she  your  jewel,  this  your  jewel,  and  my  gold  are 
yours : — provided,  I  have  your  commendation,  for 
iny  more  free  entertainment. 

POST.  I  embrace  these  conditions;5  let  us  have 
articles  betwixt  us : — only,  thus  far  you  shall  an- 
swer. If  you  make  your  voyage  upon  her,  and 
give  me  directly  to  understand  you  have  prevailed, 
I  am  no  further  your  enemy,  she  is  not  worth  our 
debate  :  if  she  remain  unseduced,  (you  not  making 
it  appear  otherwise,)  for  your  ill  opinion,  and  the 


3  lach.  If  I  bring  you  no  sufficient  testimony  that  I  have 

enjoyed  the  dearest  bodily  part  of  your  mistress,  my  ten  thousand 
ducats  are  yours ;  so  is  your  diamond  too.  If  I  come  off,  and  leave 
her  in  such  honour  as  you  have  trust  in,  she  your  jewel,  this  your 
jeivel,  and  my  gold  are  yours :  8?c. 

Post.  /  embrace  these  conditions;  &c.~]  This  was  a  wager  be- 
tween the  two  speakers.  lachimo  declares  the  conditions  of  it ; 
and  Posthumus  embraces  them,  as  well  he  might ;  for  lachimo 
mentions  only  that  of  the  two  conditions  which  was  favourable 
to  Posthumus :  namely,  that  if  his  wife  preserved  her  honour  he 
should  win :  concerning  the  other,  in  case  she  preserved  it  not, 
lachimo,  the  accurate  expounder  of  the  wager,  is  silent.  To 
make  him  talk  more  in  character,  for  we  find  him  sharp  enough 
in  the  prosecution  of  his  bet ;  we  should  strike  out  the  negative, 
and  read  the  rest  thus :  If  I  bring  you  sufficient  testimony  that  I 
have  enjoyed,  &;c.  my  ten  thousand  ducats  are  mine ;  so  is  your 
diamond  too.  If  I  come  off,  and  leave  her  in  such  honour,  £?c.  she 
your  jewel,  S?c.  and  my  gold  are  yours.  WARBURTON. 

I  once  thought  this  emendation  right,  but  am  now  of  opinion, 
that  Shakspeare  intended  that  lachimo  having  gained  his  pur- 
pose, should  designedly  drop  the  invidious  and  offensive  part  of 
t  e  wager,  and  to  flatter  Posthumus,  dwell  long  upon  the  more 
pleasing  part  of  the  representation.  One  condition  of  a  wager 
implies  the  other,  and  there  is  no  need  to  mention  both. 

JOHNSON. 


438  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

assault  you  have  made  to  her  chastity,  you  shall 
answer  me  with  your  sword. 

IACII.  Your  hand ;  a  covenant :  We  will  have 
these  things  set  down  by  lawful  counsel,  and  straight 
away  for  Britain ;  lest  the  bargain  should  catch  cold, 
and  starve :  I  will  fetch  my  gold,  and  have  our  two 
wagers  recorded. 

POST.  Agreed. 

[Exeunt  POSTHUMUS  and  IACHIMO. 

FRENCH.  Will  this  hold,  think  you  ? 

PHI.  Sigriior  lachimo  will  not  from  it.  Pray, 
let  us  follow  'em.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  VI. 

Britain.     A  Room  in  Cymbeline's  Palace. 
Enter  Queen,  Ladies,  and  CORNELIUS. 


Whiles  yet  the  dew's  on  ground,  gather 
those  flowers  ; 
Make  haste  :  Who  has  the  note  of  them  ? 

1  LADY.  I,  madam. 

QUEEN.  Despatch.  -  [Exeunt  Ladies. 

Now,  master  doctor  ;  have  you  brought  those  drugs  ? 

COR.  Pleaseth  your  highness,  ay:  here  they  are, 
madam  :          [Presenting  a  small  Box. 
But  I  beseech  your  grace,  (without  offence  ; 
Ifty  conscience  bids  me  ask  ;)  wherefore  you  have 
Commanded  of  me  these  most  poisonous  compounds, 
Which  are  the  movers  of  a  languishing  death  j 
But,  though  slow,  deadly  ? 


sc.  vi.  CYMBELINE.  439 

QUEEN.  I  do  wonder,  doctor,6 

Thou  ask'st  me  such  a  question :  Have  I  not  been 
Thy  pupil  long  ?  Hast  thou  not  learn' d  me  how 
To  make  perfumes  ?  distil  ?  preserve  ?  yea,  so, 
That  our  great  king  himself  doth  woo  me  oft 
For  my  confections  ?  Having  thus  far  proceeded, 
(Unless  thou  think'st  me  devilish,)  is't  not  meet 
That  I  did  amplify  my  judgment  in 
Other  conclusions  ?7  I  will  try  the  forces 
Of  these  thy  compounds  on  such  creatures  as 
We  count  notworththehanging,  (but  ,i&i&e  human,) 
To  try  the  vigour  of  them,  and  apply 
Allayments  to  their  act ;  and  by  them  gather 
Their  several  virtues,  and  effects. 

COR.  Your  highness 

Shall  from  this  practice  but  make  hard  your  heart:8 


0 


/  do  wonder,  doctor,"]  I  have  supplied  the  verb  do  for  the 
sake  of  measure,  and  in  compliance  with  our  author's  practice 
when  he  designs  any  of  his  characters  to  speak  emphatically : 
Thus,  in  Muck  Ado  about  Nothing:  "  I  do  much  wonder,  that 
one  man,  seeing  how  much  another  man  is  a  fool"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

7  Other  conclusions  ?~\     Other  experiments.     I  commend,  says 
Walton,  an  angler  that  trieth  conclusions,  and  improves  his  art. 

JOHNSON. 
So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  : 

"  She  hath  pursued  conclusions  infinite 
"  Of  easy  ways  to  die."     MALONE. 

8  Your  highness 

Shall  from  this  practice  but  make  hard  your  heart :~]  There 
is  in  this  passage  nothing  that  much  requires  a  note,  yet  I  cannot 
forbear  to  push  it  forward  into  observation.  The  thought  would 
probably  have  been  more  amplified,  had  our  author  lived  to  be 
shocked  with  such  experiments  as  have  been  published  in  later 
times,  by  a  race  of  men  who  have  practised  tortures  without  pity, 
and  related  them  without  shame,  and  are  yet  suffered  to  erect 
their  heads  among  human  beings. 

**  Cape  saxa  manu,  cape  robora,  pastor."    JOHNSON. 


440  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i, 

Besides,  the  seeing  these  effects  will  be 
Both  noisome  and  infectious. 

QUEEN.  O,  content  thee. — 


Enter  PISANIO. 

Here  comes  a  flattering  rascal ;  upon  him  [Aside. 
Will  I  first  work  :9  he's  for  his  master, 
And  enemy  to  my  son. — How  now,  Pisanio  ? — 
Doctor,  your  service  for  this  time  is  ended  j 
Take  your  own  way. 

COR.  I  do  suspect  you,  madam ; 

But  you  shall  do  no  harm.  [Aside. 

QUEEN.  Hark  thee,  a  word. — 

[To  PISANIO. 

COR.  \_Aside.~]  I  do  not  like  her.1  She  doth  think, 

she  has 

Strange  lingering  poisons :  I  do  know  her  spirit, 
And  will  not  trust  one  of  her  malice  with 
A  drug  of  such  damn'd  nature :  Those,  she  has, 
Will  stupify  and  dull  the  sense  awhile : 
Which  first,  perchance,  she'll  prove  on  cats,  and 

dogs; 

9  Will  Ifrst  ixorlc:~]  She  means,  I  believe,  that  on  him  first 
she  will  try  the  efficacy  of  her  poison.  MALONE. 

What  else  can  she  mean  ?     REED. 

1  /  do  not  like  her."}  This  soliloquy  is  very  inartificial.  The 
speaker  is  under  no  strong  pressure  of  thought ;  he  is  neither 
resolving,  repenting,  suspecting,  nor  deliberating,  and  yet  makes 
a  long  speech  to  tell  himself  what  himself  knows.  JOHNSON. 

This  soliloquy,  however  inartificial  in  respect  of  the  speaker, 
is  yet  necessary  to  prevent  that  uneasiness  which  would  naturally 
arise  in  the  mind  of  an  audience  on  recollection  that  the  Queen 
had  mischievous  ingredients  in  her  possession,  unless  they  were 
undeceived  as  to  the  quality  of  them ;  and  it  is  no  less  useful  to 
prepare  us  for  the  return  of  Imogen  to  life.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  vi.  CYMBELINE.  441 

Then  afterward  up  higher ;  but  there  is 
No  danger  in  what  show  of  death  it  makes, 
More  than  the  locking  up  the  spirits  a  time,5 
To  be  more  fresh,  reviving.     She  is  fool'd 
With  a  most  false  effect ;  and  I  the  truer, 
So  to  be  false  with  her.3 

QUEEN.  No  further  service,  doctor, 

Until  I  send  for  thee. 

COR.  I  humbly  take  my  leave. 

\_Emt. 

QUEEN.  Weeps  she  still,  say'st  thou  ?  Dost  thou 

think,  in  time 

She  will  not  quench  ;4  and  let  instructions  enter 
Where  folly  now  possesses  ?  Do  thou  work  ; 
When  thou  shalt  bring  me  word,  she  loves  my  son, 
I'll  tell  thee,  on  the  instant,  thou  art  then 
As  great  as  is  thy  master  :  greater ;  for 
His  fortunes  all  lie  speechless,  and  his  name 
Is  at  last  gasp  :  Return  he  cannot,  nor 
Continue  where  he  is  :  to  shift  his  being,5 
Is  to  exchange  one  misery  with  another  ; 
And  every  day,  that  comes,  comes  to  decay 
A  day's  work  in  him  :  What  shalt  thou  expect, 
To  be  depender  on  a  thing  that  leans  ?6 

* a  time,~]     So  the  old  copy.   All  the  modern  editions — 

Jbr  a  time.     MALONE. 

3  So  to  be  false  with  her.]  The  two  last  words  may  be  fairly 
considered  as  an  interpolation,  for  they  hurt  the  metre,  without 
enforcement  of  the  sense. 

For  thee,  in  the  next  line  but  one,  might  on  the  same  account 
be  omitted.  STEEVENS. 

* quench  ;~\  i.  e.  grow  cool.     STEEVENS. 

* to  shift  his  being,'}     To  change  his  abode.     JOHNSON. 

*          that  leans  ?~\   That  inclines  towards  its  fall.    JOHNSON. 


CYMBELINE.  ACT  t. 

Who  cannot  be  new  built ;  nor  has  no  friends, 

\_The  Queen  drops  a  Box:  PISANIO  takes  it  up. 
So  much  as  but  to  prop  him? — Thou  tak'st  up 
Thou  know'st  not  what;  but  take  it  for  thy  labour: 
It  is  a  thing  I  made,  which  hath  the  king 
Five  times  redeem'd  from  death  :  I  do  not  know 
What  is  more  cordial : — Nay,  I  pr'ythee,  take  it ; 
It  is  an  earnest  of  a  further  good 
That  I  mean  to  thee.     Tell  thy  mistress  how 
The  case  stands  with  her ;  do't,  as  from  thyself. 
Think  what  a  chance  thou  changest  on  ;7  but  think 
Thou  hast  thy  mistress  still ;  to  boot,  my  son, 
Who  shall  take  notice  of  thee  :  I'll  move  the  king 
To  any  shape  of  thy  preferment,  such 
As  thou'lt  desire  ;  and  then  myself,  I  chiefly, 
That  set  thee  on  to  this  desert,  am  bound 
To  load  thy  merit  richly.     Call  my  women  : 
Think  on  my  words.  [_Exit  PISA.] — A  sly  and  con- 
stant knave ; 

Not  to  be  shak'd :  the  agent  for  his  master ; 
And  the  remembrancer  of  her,  to  hold 
The  hand  fast  to  her  lord. — I  have  given  him  that, 
Which,  if  he  take,  shall  quite  unpeople  her 


1  Think  what  a  chance  thou  changest  on;]  Such  is  the  read- 
ing of  the  old  copy,  which  by  succeeding  editors  has  been  altered 
into — 

Think  what  a  chance  thou  chancest  on; — 
And— 

Think  what  a  change  thou  chancest  on; — 

but  unnecessarily.  The  meaning  is :  *'  Think  with  what  a  fair 
prospect  of  mending  your  fortunes  you  now  change  your  present 
service."  STEEVENS. 

A  line  in  our  author's  Rape  of  Lucrcce  adds  some  support  to 
the  reading — thou  chancest  on,  which  is  much  in  Shakspeare's 
manner : 

"  Let  there  bechance  him  pitiful  mis-chances." 

MALOKE. 


ac.  VIL  CYMBELINE.  445 

Of  liegers  for  her  sweet ; 8  and  which  she,  after, 
Except  she  bend  her  humour,  shall  be  assur'd 


Re-enter  PISANIO,  and  Ladies. 

To  taste  of  too. — So,  so ; — well  done,  well  done  : 
The  violets,  cowslips,  and  the  primroses, 
Bear  to  my  closet : — Fare  thee  well,  Pisanio ; 
Think  on  my  words.    \_~Exeunt  Queen  and  Ladies. 

Pis.  And  shall  do:9 

But  when  to  my  good  lord  I  prove  untrue, 
I'll  choke  myself:  there's  all  I'll  do  for  you. 

[Exit. 


SCENE  VIL 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  IMOGEN. 

IMO.  A  father  cruel,  and  a  step-dame  false  j, 
A  foolish  suitor  to  a  wedded  lady, 
That  hath  her  husband  banish' d ; — O,that  husband! 


8  Ofliegersjbr  her  sixeet ;~\     A  lieger  ambassador  is  one  that 
resides  in  a  foreign  court  to  promote  his  master's  interest. 

JOHNSON. 
So,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

"  Lord  Angelo,  having  affairs  to  heaven, 

"  Intends  you  for  his  swift  embassador, 

"  Where  you  shall  be  an  everlasting  lieger"   STEEVENS. 

9  And  shall  do:~]     Some  words,  which  rendered  this  sentence 
less  abrupt,  and  perfected  the  metre  of  it,  appear  to  have  been 
omitted  in  the  old  copies.    STEEVENS. 


444  CYMBELINE.  ACTI. 

My  supreme  crown  of  grief! '  and  those  repeated 
Vexations  of  it !  Had  1  been  thief-stolen, 
As  my  two  brothers,  happy !  but  most  miserable 
Is  the  desire  that's  glorious  :2  Blessed  be  those, 
How  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  wills, 
Which  seasons  comfort.3 — Who  may  this  be  ?  Fye! 
/ 

1 0,  that  husband! 

My  supreme  crown  of  grief '/]  Imogen  seems  to  say,  that 
her  separation  from  her  husband  is  the  completion  of  her  dis- 
tress. So,  in  King  Lear: 

"  This  would  have  seem'd  a  period 

"  To  such  as  love  not  sorrow  ;  but  another, 

**  To  amplify  too  much,  would  make  much  more, 

"  And  top  extremity." 
Again,  in  Coriolanus  : 

" the  spire  and  fop  of  praise." 

Again,  more  appositely,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida  : 

"  Make  Cressid's  name  the  very  crown  of  falsehood." 
Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

"  The  croiun  and  comfort  of  my  life,  your  favour, 

"  I  do  give  lost."     MALONE. 

* . but  most  miserable 

Is  the  desire  that's  glorious  :~\  Her  husband,  she  says,  prove* 
her  supreme  grief.  She  had  been  happy  had  she  been  stolen  as 
her  brothers  were,  but  now  she  is  miserable,  as  all  those  are  who 
have  a  sense  of  worth  and  honour  superior  to  the  vulgar,  which 
occasions  them  infinite  vexations  from  the  envious  and  worthless 
part  of  mankind.  Had  she  not  so  refined  a  taste  as  to  be  content 
only  with  the  superior  merit  of  Posthumus,  but  could  have  taken 
up  with  Cloten,  she  might  have  escaped  these  persecutions.  This 
elegance  of  taste,  which  always  discovers  an  excellence  and 
chooses  it,  she  calls  with  great  sublimity  of  expression,  The  de- 
sire that's  glorious  ;  which  the  Oxford  editor  not  understanding, 
alters  to — The  degree  that's  glorious.  WARBURTON. 

3  . Blessed  be  those, 

How  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  to»7/.?, 
Which  seasons  comfort.~]    The  last  words  are  equivocal ;  but 
the  meaning  is  this ;  Who  are  beholden  only  to  the  seasons  for 
their  support  and  nourishment ;  so  that,  if  those  be  kindly,  such 
have  no  more  to  care  for,  or  desire.     WARBURTON. 

I  am  willing  to  comply  with  any  meaning  that  can  be  extorted 


ac.  ni.  CYMBELINE.  44S 


Enter  PISANIO  and  IACHIMO. 

Pis.  Madam,  a  noble  gentleman  of  Rome ; 
Comes  from  my  lord  with  letters. 

from  the  present  text,  rather  than  change  it,  yet  will  propose, 
but  with  great  diffidence,  a  slight  alteration: 

Bless'd  be  those, 

Hoia  mean  soe'er,  that  have  their  honest  wills, 

With  reason's  comfort. 

Who  gratify  their  innocent  wishes  with  reasonable  enjoyments. 

JOHNSON. 

I  shall  venture  at  another  explanation,  which,  as  the  last  words 
are  admitted  to  be  equivocal,  may  be  proposed.  "  To  be  able  to 
refine  on  calamity  (says  she)  is  the  miserable  privilege  of  those 
who  are  educated  with  aspiring  thoughts  and  elegant  desires. 
Blessed  are  they,  however  mean  their  condition,  who  have  the 
power  of  gratifying  their  honest  inclination,  which  circumstance 
bestows  an  additional  relish  on  comfort  itself." 

"  You  lack  the  season  of  all  natures,  sleep."  Macbeth. 
Again,  in  Albumazar,  1615  : 

" the  memory  of  misfortunes  past 

"  Seasons  the  welcome."     STEEVENS. 

I  agree  with  Steevens  that  the  word  seasons,  in  this  place,  is 
used  as  a  verb,  but  not  in  his  interpretation  of  the  former  part  of 
this  passage.  Imogen's  reflection  is  merely  this  :  "  That  those 
are  happy  who  have  their  honest  wills,  which  gives  a  relish  to 
comfort;  but  that  those  are  miserable  who  set  their  affections  on 
objects  of  superior  excellence,  which  are  of  course,  difficult  to 
obtain."  The  word  honest  means  plain  or  humble,  and  is  op- 
posed to  glorious,  M.  MASON. 

In  my  apprehension,  Imogen's  sentiment  is  simply  this  :  Had 
I  been  stolen  by  thieves  in  my  iiifancy,  (or,  as  she  says  in  an- 
other place,  Lorn  a  neat-herd1  s  daughter,}  I  had  been  happy. 
But  instead  of  that,  I  am  in  a  high,  and,  'what  is  called,  a 
glorious  station;  and  most  miserable  in  such  a  situation!  Preg- 
nant with  calamity  are  those  desires,  which  aspire  to  glory ; 
to  splendid  titles,  or  elevation  of  rank !  Happier  Jar  are  those, 
how  low  soever  their  rank  in  life,  who  have  it  in  their  power  to 
gratify  their  virtuous  inclinations:  a  circumstance  that  gives  an 
additional  zest  to  comfort  itself,  and  renders  it  something  more ; 


440  CYMBELINE.  ACT  I. 

I  ACE.  Change  you,  madam  ? 

The  worthy  Leonatus  is  in  safety, 
And  greets  your  highness  dearly. 

{Presents  a  Letter. 

IMO.  Thanks,  good  sir : 

You  are  kindly  welcome. 

IACH.  All  of  her,  that  is  out  of  door,  most  rich! 

[Aside. 

If  she  be  furnish'd  with  a  mind  so  rare, 
She  is  alone  the  Arabian  bird ;  and  I 
Have  lost  the  wager.     Boldness  be  my  friend ! 
Arm  me,  audacity,  from  head  to  foot ! 
Or,  like  the  Parthian,  I  shall  flying  fight ; 
Rather,  directly  fly. 

or,  (to  borrow  our  author's  words  in  another  place)  "which  keeps 
comfort  always  fresh  and  lasting. 

A  line  in  Timon  of  Athens  may  perhaps  prove  the  best  com- 
ment on  the  former  part  of  this  passage : 

"  O  the  fierce  wretchedness  that  glory  brings!" 
In  King  Henry  VIII.  also,  Anna  Bullen  utters  a  sentiment 
that  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  that  before  us : 

" 1  swear,  'tis  better 

"  To  dwell  with  humble  livers  in  content, 
"  Than  to  be  perk'd  up  in  a  glistering  grief  \ 
"  And  wear  a  golden  sorrow." 

Of  the  verb  to  season,  (of  which  the  true  explanation  wa* 
originally  given  by  Mr.  Steevens,)  so  many  instances  occur  as 
fully  to  justify  this  interpretation.  It  is  used  in  the  same  meta- 
phorical sense  in  Daniel's  Cleopatra,  a  tragedy,  1594-: 

"  This  that  did  season  all  my  sour  of  life, — ." 
Again,  in  our  author's  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  How  much  salt  water  thrown  away  in  haste, 
"  To  season  love,  that  of  it  doth  not  taste!" 
Again,  in  Twelfth- Night: 

" All  this  to  season 

"  A  brother's  dead  love,  which  she  would  keepfresh 
"  And  lasting  in  her  sad  remembrance."    MALONE. 


ac.  vn.  CYMBELINE.  447 

IMO.  [Reads.] — He  is  one  of  the  noblest  note,  to 
whose  kindnesses  I  am  most  infinitely  tied.  Reflect 
upon  him  accordingly,  as  you  value  your  truest 

LEONATUS.* 
So  far  I  read  aloud : 
But  even  the  very  middle  of  my  heart 

*  Reflect  upon  him  accordingly,  as  you  value  your  truest 

LEONATUS.] 

[Old  copy — your  trust.  LEONATUS.]  Were  Leonatus  writing 
to  his  Steward,  this  style  might  be  proper;  but  it  is  so  strange 
a  conclusion  of  a  letter  to  a  princess,  and  a  beloved  wife,  that 
it  cannot  be  right.  I  have  no  doubt  therefore  that  we  ought  to 
read: 

as  you  value  your  truest 

LEONATUS. 

M.  MASON. 

This  emendation  is  at  once  so  neat  and  elegant,  that  I  cannot 
refuse  it  a  place  in  the  text ;  and  especially  as  it  returns  an  echo 
to  the  words  of  Posthumus  when  he  parted  from  Imogen,  and 
dwelt  so  much  on  his  own  conjugal  fidelity : 

" 1  will  remain 

"  The  loyal' st  husband  that  did  e'er  plight  troth.'* 

STEEVENS. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  conjecture  would  have  more  weight,  if  it 
were  certain  that  these  were  intended  as  the  concluding  words 
of  the  letter.  It  is  more  probable  that  what  warmed  the  very  middle 
of  the  heart  of  Imogen,  formed  the  conclusion  of  Posthumus's 
letter  ;  and  the  words — so  Jar,  and  by  the  rest,  support  that  sup- 
position. Though  Imogen  reads  the  name  of  her  husband,  she 
might  suppress  somewhat  that  intervened.  Nor,  indeed,  is  the 
adjuration  of  light  import,  or  unsuitable  to  a  fond  husband,  sup- 
posing it  to  be  the  conclusion  of  the  letter.  Respect  my  friend, 
/says  Leonatus,  as  you  value  the  confidence  reposed  in  you  by 
him  to  whom  you  have  plighted  your  troth.  M  ALONE. 

It  is  certain,  I  think,  from  the  break — "  He  is  one"  &c.  that 
the  omitted  part  of  the  letter  was  at  the  beginning  of  it;  and 
that  what  follows  (all  indeed  that  was  necessary  for  the  au- 
dience to  hear,)  was  its  regular  and  decided  termination. — Was  it 
not  natural,  that  a  young  and  affectionate  husband,  writing  to 
a  wife  whom  he  adored,  should  express  the  feelings  of  his  love, 
before  he  proceeded  to  the  detail  of  his  colder  business  ? 

STEEVENS. 


448  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

Is  warm'd  by  the  rest,  and  takes  it  thankfully. — 
You  are  as  welcome,  worthy  sir,  as  I 
Have  words  to  bid  you ;  and  shall  find  it  so, 
In  all  that  I  can  do. 

IACH.  Thanks,  fairest  lady. — 

What!  are  men  mad?  Hath  nature  given  them  eyes 
To  see  this  vaulted  arch,  and  the  rich  crop 
Of  sea  and  land,5  which  can  distinguish  'twixt 
The  fiery  orbs  above,  and  the  twinn'd  stones 
Upon  the  numbered  beach  ?6  and  can  we  not 

*          and  the  rich  crop 

Of  sea  and  land,'}  He  is  here  speaking  of  the  covering  of 
sea  and  land.  Shakspeare  therefore  wrote : 

and  the  rich  cope — .     WARBURTON. 

Surely  no  emendation  is  necessary.  The  vaulted  arch  is  alike 
the  cope  or  covering  of  sea  and  land.  When  the  poet  had  spo- 
ken of  it  once,  could  he  have  thought  this  second  introduction 
of  it  necessary  ?  The  crop  of  sea  and  land  means  only  the  pro- 
ductions of  either  element.  STEEVENS. 

6 and  the  tivinn'd  stones 

Upon  the  number'd  beach  ?]  I  have  no  idea  in  what  sense 
the  beach,  or  shore,  should  be  called  number'd.  I  have  ventured, 
against  all  the  copies,  to  substitute — 

Upon  th'  unnumber'd  beach? 

i.  e.  the  infinite  extensive  beach,  if  we  are  to  understand  the 
epithet  as  coupled  to  the  word.  But,  I  rather  think,  the  poet 
intended  an  hypallage,  like  that  in  the  beginning  of  Ovid's 
Metamorphosis : 

"  (In  nova  fert  animus  mutatas  dicere  formas 

"  Corpora.)" 

And  then  we  are  to  understand  the  passage  thus :  and  the  infinite 
number  of  tivinn'd  stones  upon  the  beach.  THEOBALD. 

Sense  and  the  antithesis  oblige  us  to  read  this  nonsense  thus: 

Upon  the  humbled  beach  : 

i.  e.  because  daily  insulted  from  the  flow  of  the  tide. 

WARBURTON. 

I  know  not  well  how  to  regulate  this  passage.  Number'd  is 
perhaps  numerous.  Twinn'd  stones  I  do  not  understand. — 
Twinn'd  shells,  or  pairs  of  shells,  are  very  common.  For 


sc.  vn.  CYMBELINE.  449 

Partition  make  with  spectacles  so  precious 
'Twixt  fair  and  foul  ? 

IMO.  What  makes  your  admiration  ? 

IACH.    It  cannot  be  i'the  eye ;   for  apes  and 

monkeys, 

'Twixt  two  such  shes,  would  chatter  this  way,  and 
Contemn  with  mows  the  other :  Nor  i'the  judg- 
ment; 
For  idiots,  in  this  case  of  favour,  would 


twinn'd  we  might  read  twirfd;  that  is,  twisted,  convolved:  but 
this  sense  is  more  applicable  to  shells  than  to  stones.  JOHNSON. 

The  pebbles  on  the  sea  shore  are  so  much  of  the  same  size 
and  shape,  that  twinned  may  mean  as  like  as  twins.  So,  ia 
The  Maid  of  the  Mill,  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher : 

" But  is  it  possible  that  two  faces 

"  Should  be  so  twinn'd  in  form,  complexion,'*  &c. 
Again,  in  our  author's  Coriolanus,  Act  IV.  sc.  iv : 

"  Are  still  together,  who  twin  as  'twere  in  love." 
Mr.  Heath  conjectures  the  poet  might  have  written — spurn'd 
stones.     He  might  possibly  have  written  that  or  any  other  word. 
— In  Coriolanus,  a  different  epithet  is  bestowed  on  the  beach : 

"  Then  let  the  pebbles  on  the  hungry  beach 

"  Fillop  the  stars " 

Dr.  Warburton's  conjecture  may  be  countenanced  by  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  VI.  c.  vii : 

"  But  as  he  lay  upon  the  humbled  grass."     STEEVENS. 

I  think  we  may  read  the  umbered,  the  shaded  beach.  This 
word  is  met  with  in  other  places.  FARMER. 

Farmer's  amendment  is  ill-imagined.  There  is  no  place  so 
little  likely  to  be  shaded  as  the  beach  of  the  sea ;  and  therefore 
umber' d  cannot  be  right.  M.  MASON. 

Mr.  Theobald's  conjecture  may  derive  some  support  from  a 
passage  in  King  Lear: 

" the  murm'ring  surge 

"  That  on  th'  unnumbered  idle  pebbles  chafes — " 
Th'  unnumbered,   and  the  number' d,  if  hastily  pronounced, 
might  easily  have  been  confounded  by  the  ear.     If  numbered  be 
right,  it  surely  means,  as  Dr.  Johnson  has  explained  it,  abound- 
ing in  numbers  of  stones  ;  numerous.     MALONE.  ; 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  G 


450  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

Be  wisely  definite :  Nor  i'the  appetite ; 
Sluttery,  to  such  neat  excellence  oppos'd, 
Should  make  desire  vomit  emptiness, 
Not  so  allur'd  to  feed.7 


1  Should  make  desire  vomit  emptiness, 

Not  to  attur'd  to  feed.'}  i.  e.  that  appetite,  which  is  not 
allured  to  feed  on  such  excellence,  can  have  no  stomach  at  all ; 
but,  though  empty,  must  nauseate  every  thing.  WARBURTON. 

I  explain  this  passage  in  a  sense  almost  contrary.  lachimo, 
in  this  counterfeited  rapture,  has  shown  how  the  eyes  and  the 

judgment  would  determine  in  favour  of  Imogen,  comparing  her 
with  the  present  mistress  of  Posthumus,  and  proceeds  to  say, 
that  appetite  too  would  give  the  same  suffrage.  Desire,  says 
he,  when  it  approached  sluttery,  and  considered  it  in  compari- 
son with  such  neat  excellence,  would  not  only  be  not  so  allured  to 

feed,  but,  seized  with  a  fit  of  loathing,  would  vomit  emptinesst 
would  feel  the  convulsions  of  disgust,  though,  being  unfed,  it 
had  no  object.  JOHNSON. 

Dr.  Warburton  and  Dr.  Johnson  have  both  taken  the  pains  to 
give  their  different  senses  of  this  passage ;  but  I  am  still  unable 
to  comprehend  how  desire,  or  any  other  thing,  can  be  made  to 
vomit  emptiness.  I  rather  believe  the  passage  should  be  read  thus: 

Sluttery  to  such  neat  excellence  oppos'dt 

Should  make  desire  vomit,  emptiness 

Not  so  allure  to  feed. 

That  is,  Should  not  so,  [in  such  circumstances]  allure  [even] 
emptiness  to  feed.  TYRWHITT. 

This  is  not  ill  conceived ;  but  I  think  my  own  explanation 
right.  To  vomit  emptiness  is,  in  the  language  of  poetry,  to  feel 
the  convulsions  of  eructation  without  plenitude.  JOHNSON. 

No  one  who  has  been  ever  sick  at  sea,  can  be  at  a  loss  to  un- 
derstand what  is  meant  by  vomiting  emptiness.  Dr.  Johnson's 
interpretation  would  perhaps  be  more  exact,  if  after  the  word 
Desire  he  had  added,  however  hungry,  or  sharp  set. 

A  late  editor,  Mr.  Capell,  was  so  little  acquainted  with  his 
author,  as  not  to  know  that  Shakspeare  here,  and  in  some  other 
places,  uses  desire  as  a  trisyllable ;  in  consequence  of  which,  he 
reads — vomit  to  emptiness.  MA  LONE. 

The  indelicacy  of  this  passage  may  be  kept  in  countenance  by 
the  following  lines  and  stage-directions  in  the  tragedy  of  All  for 
Money,  by  T.  Lupton,  1578 : 


sc.  m.  CYMBELINE.  451 

IMO.  What  is  the  matter,  trow  ? 

IACH.  The  cloyed  willa8 

(That  satiate  yet  unsatisfied  desire, 
That  tub  both  filPd  and  running,)  ravening  first 
The  lamb,  longs  after  for  the  garbage. 

IMO.  What,  dear  sir, 

Thus  raps,  you  ?  Are  you  well  ? 

IACH.  Thanks,  madam  j  well: — 'Beseech  you, 
sir,  desire  [To  PISANIO. 

My  man's  abode  where  I  did  leave  him :  he 
Is  strange  and  peevish.9 


"  Now  will  I  essay  to  vomit  if  I  can ; 
"  Let  him  hold  your  head,  and  I  will  hold  your  sto- 
mach,'* &c. 

"  Here  Money  shall  make  as  though  he  toould  vomit." 
Again : 

"  Here  Pleasure  shall  make  as  though  he  would  vomit." 

STEEVENS. 

8  The  cloyed  will,  &c.]  The  present  irregularity  of  metre  has 
almost  persuaded  me  that  this  passage  originally  stood  thus : 

The  cloyed  mill, 

(  That's  satiate,  yet  unsatisfied,  that  tub 
Both  Jill' d  and  running,}  ravening  jirst  the  lamb, 
Longs  after  for  the  garbage. 

What,  dear  sir,  &c. 

The  want,  in  the  original  MS.  of  the  letter  I  have  supplied, 
perhaps  occasioned  the  interpolation  of  the  word — desire. 

STEEVENS. 

9 he 

Is  strange  and  peevish.~]  He  is  a  foreigner  and  easily  fretted. 

JOHNSON. 

Strange,  I  believe,  signifies  shy  or  backward.  So,  Holinshed, 
p.  735 :  "  — brake  to  him  his  mind  in  this  mischievous  matter, 
in  which  he  found  him  nothing  strange" 

Peevish  anciently  meant  weak,  silly.  So,  in  Lyly's  Endymion, 
1591 :  "  Never  was  any  so  peevish  to  imagine  the  moon  either 
capable  of  affection,  or  shape  of  a  mistress."  Again,  in  his 


Metamorphi 

2  G  2 


452  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

Pis.  I  was  going,  sir, 

To  give  him  welcome.  [Exit  PISANIO. 

IMO.  Continues  well  my  lord  ?  His  health,  'be- 
seech you  ? 

IACH.  Well,  madam. 

IMO.  Is  he  disposed  to  mirth  ?  I  hope,  he  is. 

IACH.  Exceeding  pleasant;  none  a  stranger  there 
So  merry  and  so  gamesome :  he  is  call'd 
The  Briton  reveller.1 

IMO.  When  he  was  here, 

He  did  incline  to  sadness ;  and  oft-times 
Not  knowing  why. 

saw  an  orderly  course,  in  the  earth  nothing  but  disorderly  love 
and  peevishness."     Again,  in  Gosson's  School  of  Abuse,  1579: 
"  We  have  infinite  poets  and  pipers,  and  such  peevish  cattel 
among  us  in  Englande."     Again,  in  The  Comedy  of  Errors: 
"  How  now!  a  madman!  why  thou  peevish  sheep, 
"  No  ship  of  Epidamnum  stays  for  me."     STEEVENS. 
Minsheu,  in  his  Dictionary,  1617,  explains  peevish  by  foolish. 
So  again,  in  our  author's  King  Richard  III: 

"  When  Richmond  was  a  little  peevish  boy." 
See  also  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  IV.  sc.  iv;  and  Vol.  XIV. 
p.  201,  n.  7. 

Strange  is  again  used  by  our  author  in  his  Venm  and  Adonis, 
in  the  sense  in  which  Mr.  Steevens  supposes  it  to  be  used  here: 

"  Measure  my  strangeness  by  my  unripe  years." 
Again,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 
"  I'll  prove  more  true 

"  Than  those  that  have  more  cunning  to  be  strange." 
But  I  doubt  whether  the  word  was  intended  to  bear  that  sense 
here.    MALONE. 

Johnson's  explanation  of  strange  [he  is  a  foreigner]  is  certainly 
right.     lachimo  uses  it  again  in  the  latter  end  of  this  scene : 
"  And  I  am  something  curious,  being  strange, 
"  To  have  them  in  safe  stowage." 
Here  also  strange  evidently  means,  being  a  stranger. 

M.  MASON. 
1  — —  he  is  call'd 

The  Briton  reveller.]     So,  in  Chaucer's  Coke's  Tale,  Mr. 
Tyrwhitt's  edit.  v.  4369: 

*«  That  he  was  cleped  Perkin  revelour."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  vn.  CYMBELINK  453 

IACH.  I  never  saw  him  sad. 

There  is  a  Frenchman  his  companion,  one 
An  eminent  monsieur,  that,  it  seems,  much  loves 
A  Gallian  girl  at  home  :  he  furnaces 
The  thick  sighs  from  him  ;2  whiles  the  jolly  Briton 
(Your  lord,  I  mean,)  laughs  from's  free  lungs, 

cries,  Of 

Can  my  sides  hold,3  to  think,  that  man, — who  knows 
By  history,  report,  or  his  own  proof, 
What  woman  is,  yea,  what  she  cannot  choose 
But  must  be,— will  his  free  hours  languish  for 
Assured  bondage  ? 

IMO.  Will  my  lord  say  so  ? 

IACH.  Ay,  madam ;  with  his  eyes  in  flood  with 

laughter. 

Jt  is  a  recreation  to  be  -by, 
And  hear  him  mock  the  Frenchman :  But,  heavens 

know, 
Some  men  are  much  to  blame. 

IMO.  Not  he,  I  hope. 

IACH.  Not  he  :  But  yet  heaven's  bounty  towards 
him  might 

* he  furnaces 

The  thick  sighs  from  him;'}  So,  in  Chapman's  preface  to 
his  translation  of  the  Shield  of  Homer,  1598:  "  —furnaceth  the 
universall  sighes  and  complaintes  of  this  transposed  world." 

STEEVENS. 

So,  in  As  you  like  it : 

" And  then  the  lover, 

"  Sighing  \\kefurnace,  with  a  woeful  ballad."  MALONE. 

laughs cries,  0  ! 


Can  my  sides  hold,  #c.]     Hence,  perhaps,  Milton's — 
" Laughter  holding  both  his  sides."     STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Vol.  XV.  p.  275 : 

" O  ! — enough,  Patroclus  ; 

"  Or  give  me  ribs  of  steel !  I  shall  split  all 
"  In  pleasure  of  my  spleen." —    HARRIS. 


454  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

Be  us'd  more  thankfully.     In  himself,  'tis  much;4 
In  you, — which  I  count5  his,  beyond  all  talents, — 
Whilst  I  am  bound  to  wonder,  I  am  bound 
To  pity  too. 

I  MO.          What  do  you  pity,  sir  ? 
IACH.  Two  creatures,  heartily. 

IMO.  Am  I  one,  sir  ? 

You  look  on  me ;  What  wreck  discern  you  in  me, 
Deserves  your  pity  ? 

IACH.  Lamentable!  What! 

To  hide  me  from  the  radiant  sun,  and  solace 
Fthe  dungeon  by  a  snuff? 

IMO.  I  pray  you,  sir, 

Deliver  with  more  openness  your  answers 
To  my  demands.     Why  do  you  pity  me  ? 

IACH.  That  others  do, 

I  was  about  to  say,  enjoy  your But 

It  is  an  office  of  the  gods  to  venge  it, 
Not  mine  to  speak  on't. 

IMO.  You  do  seem  to  know 

Something  of  me,  or  what  concerns  me;  'Pray  you, 
(Since  doubting  things  go  ill,  often  hurts  more 
Than  to  be  sure  they  do :  For  certainties 
Either  are  past  remedies ;  or,  timely  knowing,6 
The  remedy  then  born,7)  discover  to  me 

4 In  himself,  'tis  much;"]  If  he  merely  regarded  his  own 

character,  without  any  consideration  of  his  wife,  his  conduct 
would  be  unpardonable.     MALONE. 

* count — ]     Old  copy — account.    STEEVENS. 

fi timely  knowing,]    Rather — timely  known.    JOHNSON. 

I  believe  Shakspeare  wrote — known,  and  that  the  transcriber's 
ear  deceived  him  here  as  in  many  other  places.    MALONE. 

7  The  remedy  then  born,']  We  should  read,  I  think: 
The  remedy's  then  born — . 


ac.  vn.  CYMBELINE.  455 

What  both  you  spur  and  stop.8 

IACH.  Had  I  this  cheek 

To  bathe  my  lips  upon ;  this  hand,  whose  touch, 
Whose  every  touch,  would  force  the  feeler's  soul 
To  the  oath  of  loyalty;9  this  object,  which 
Takes  prisoner  the  wild  motion  of  mine  eye, 
Fixing  it  only  here  -,1  should  I  (damn'd  then,) 
Slaver  with  lips  as  common  as  the  stairs 
That  mount  the  Capitol  ;2  join  gripes  with  hands 
Made  hard  with  hourly  falsehood  (falsehood,  as 


8  What  both  you  spur  and  stop.~\     What  it  is  that  at  once  in- 
cites you  to  speak,  and  restrains  you  from  it.     JOHNSON. 

This  kind  of  ellipsis  is  common  in  these  plays.     What  both  you 
spur  and  stop  at,  the  poet  means.     See  a  note  on  Act  II.  sc.  iii. 

MALONE. 

The  meaning  is,  what  you  seem  anxious  to  utter,  and  yet  with- 
hold.   M.  MASON. 

The  allusion  is  to  horsemanship.     So,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia, 
Book  I :  "  She  was  like  a  horse  desirous  to  runne,  and  miserably 
spurred,  but  so  short-reined,  as  he  cannot  stirre  forward." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Epigram  to  the  Earl  of  Newcastle : 
"  Provoke  his  mettle,  and  command  his  force." 

STEEVENS. 

9 this  hand,  whose  touch, 

would  force  the  feeler's  soul 

To  the  oath  of  loyalty  ;~\  There  is,  I  think,  here  a  reference 
to  the  manner  in  which  the  tenant  performed  homage  to  his  lord. 
"  The  lord  sate,  while  the  vassal  kneeling  on  both  knees  before 
him,  held  his  hands  jointly  together  betioeen  the  hands  of  his  lord, 
and  swore  to  be  faithful  and  loyal."  See  Coke  upon  Littleton, 
sect.  85.  Unless  this  allusion  be  allowed,  how  has  touching  the 
hand  the  slightest  connection  with  taking  the  oath  of  loyalty? 

HOLT  WHITE. 

1  Fixing  it  only  here:~\     The  old  copy  has — Tiering.     The 
correction  was  made  in  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

8 —  as  common  as  the  stairs 

That  mount  the  Capitol;]  Shakspeare  has  bestowed  some 
ornament  on  the  proverbial  phrase  "  as  common  as  the  high- 
way." STEEVENS. 


456  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

With  labour ;)  then  lie  peeping  in  an  eye,5 
Base  and  unlustrous*  as  the  smoky  light 
That's  fed  with  stinking  tallow ;  it  were  fit, 
That  all  the  plagues  of  hell  should  at  one  time 
Encounter  such  revolt. 

IMO.  My  lord,  I  fear, 

Has  forgot  Britain. 

IACH.  And  himself.     Not  I, 

Inclin'd  to  this  intelligence,  pronounce 
The  beggary  of  his  change  ;  but  'tis  your  graces 
That,  from  my  mutest  conscience,  to  my  tongue, 
Charms  this  report  out. 

IMO.  Let  me  hear  no  more. 

IACH.  O  dearest  soul !  your  cause  doth  strike  my 

heart 

With  pity,  that  doth  make  me  sick.     A  lady 
So  fair,  and  fasten' d  to  an  empery,5 


3  — — join  gripes  -with  hands  &c.]     The  old  edition  reads: 

join  gripes  with  hands 

Made  hard  with  hourly  falsehood  (falsehood  as 
With  labour)  then  by  peeping  in  an  eye,  &c. 
I  read: 

then  lie  peeping — . 

Hard  wifk  falsehood,  is,  hard  by  being  often  griped  with  fre- 
quent change  of  hands.     JOHNSON. 

4  Base  and  unlustrous — ]     Old  copy — illustrious.     Corrected 
by  Mr.  Rowe.     That  illustrious  was  not  used  by  our  author  in 
the  sense  of  inlustrous  or  unlustrous,  is  proved  by  a  passage  in 
the  old  comedy  of  Patient  Grissell,  1603:  "  — the  buttons  were 
illustrious  and  resplendent  diamonds."     MALONE. 

A  "  lack-lustre  eye"  has  been  already  mentioned  in  As  you 

like  it.     STEEVENS. 

* to  an  empery,]  Empery  is  a  word  signifying  sovereign 

command ;    now    obsolete.      Shakspeare   uses   it  in    King  Hi- 
chard  III: 

"  Your  right  of  birth,  your  empery,  your  own." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ni.  CYMBELINE.  457 

Would  make  the  great* st  king  double!  to  bepart- 

ner'd 

With  tomboys,6  hir'd  with  that  self-exhibition7 
Which  your  own  coffers  yield !  with  diseased  ven- 
tures, 

6  With  tomboys,]  We  still  call  a  masculine,  a  forward  girl, 
tomboy.  So,  in  Middleton's  Game  at  Chess  : 

"  Made  threescore  year  a  tomboy,  a  mere  wanton.'* 
Again,  in  W.  Warren's  Nurcerie  of  Names,  1581 : 
"  She  comes  not  unto  Bacchus'  feastes, 

"  Or  Flora's  routes  by  night, 
"  Like  tomboyes  such  as  lives  in  Rome 

"  For  euery  knaues  delight." 

Again,  in  Lyly's  Midas,  1592:  "  If  thou  should'st  rigg  up 
and  down  in  our  jackets,  thou  would'st  be  thought  a  very  torn- 
%.» 

Again,  in  Lady  Alimony: 

"  What  humorous  tomboys  be  these  ? — 
"  The  only  gallant  Messalinas  of  our  age." 
It  appears  from  several  of  the  old  plays  and  ballads,  that  the 
ladies  of  pleasure,  in  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  often  wore  the 
habits  of  young  men.     So,  in  an  ancient  bl.  1.  ballad,  entitled 
The  Stout  Cripple  of  Cornwall ; 

"  And  therefore  kept  them  secretlie 

"  To  feede  his  fowle  desire, 
"  Apparell'd  all  like  gallant  youthes, 

"  In  pages'  trim  attyre. 
"  He  gave  them  for  their  cognizance 

"  A  purple  bleeding  heart, 
"  In  which  two  silver  arrows  seem'd 

"  The  same  in  twaine  to  part. 
"  Thus  secret  were  his  wanton  sports, 

"  Thus  private  was  his  pleasure ; 
"  Thus  harlots  in  the  shape  of  men 
"  Did  waft  away  his  treasure." 

Verstegan,  however,  gives  the  following  etymology  of  the 
word  tomboy:  "  Tumbe.  To  dance.  Tumbod,  danced;  hereof 
we  yet  call  a  wench  that  skippeth  or  leapeth  lyke  a  boy,  a  tom- 
boy: our  name  also  of  tumbling  cometh  from  hence." 

STEEVENS. 

17 hir'd  ivith  that  self-exhibition  &c.]      Gross  strumpets, 

hired  with  the  very  pension  which  you  allow  your  husband. 

JOHNSON. 


458  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

That  play  with  all  infirmities  for  gold 
Which  rottenness  can  lend  nature!  suchboiPd  stuff,' 
As  well  might  poison  poison!  Be  reveng'd ; 
Or  she,  that  bore  you,  was  no  queen,  and  you 
Recoil  from  your  great  stock. 

IMO.  Reveng'd ! 

How  should  I  be  reveng'd  ?  If  this  be  true, 
(As  I  have  such  a  heart,  that  both  mine  ears 
Must  not  in  haste  abuse,)  if  it  be  true, 
How  should  I  be  reveng'd  ? 

IACH.  Should  he  make  me 

Live  like  Diana's  priest,  betwixt  cold  sheets ; 9 
Whiles  he  is  vaulting  variable  ramps, 
In  your  despite,  upon  your  purse  ?  Revenge  it. 
I  dedicate  myself  to  your  sweet  pleasure ; 

8 such  boil'd  stuff,"]  The  allusion  is  to  the  ancient  pro- 
cess of  sweating  in  venereal  cases.  See  Vol.  XIX.  Timon  of 
Athens,  Act  IV.  sc.  iii.  So,  in  The  Old  Law,  by  Massinger : 

" look  parboiled, 

"  As  if  they  came  from  Cupid's  scalding-house." 
Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida :  "  Sodden  business !  there's 
a  stewed  phrase  indeed."  Again,  in  Timon  of  Athens :  "  She's 
e'en  setting  on  water  to  scald  such  chickens  as  you  are."  All 
this  stuff  about  boiling,  scalding,  &c.  is  a  mere  play  on  stew,  a 
word  which  is  afterwards  used  for  a  brothel  by  Imogen. 

STEEVENS 

The  words  may  mean, — such  corrupted  stuff;  from  the  sub- 
stantive boil.     So,  in  Coriolanus: 

" boils  and  plagues 

"  Plaster  you  o'er !" 

But,  I  believe,  Mr.  Steevens's  interpretation  is  the  true  one. 

MA  LONE. 

9  Live  like  Diana's  priest,  betwixt  cold  sheets  ;]     Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  supposing  this  to  be  an  inaccurate  expression,  reads : 

Live  like  Diana's  priestess  'twixt  cold  sheets; 
but  the  text  is  as  the  author  wrote  it.     So,  in  Pericles,  Prince 
of  Tyre,  DIANA  says : 

"  My  temple  stands  at  Ephesus ;  hie  thee  thither ; 
"  There,  when  my  maiden  priests  are  met  together,"  &c. 

MALONE. 


sc.  rn.  CYMBELINE.  459 

More  noble  than  that  runagate  to  your  bed ; 
And  will  continue  fast  to  your  affection, 
Still  close,  as  sure. 

IMO.  What  ho,  Pisanio ! 

IACH.  Let  me  my  service  tender  on  your  lips.1 

IMO.  Away! — I  do  condemn  mine  ears,  that 

have 

So  long  attended  thee. — If  thou  wert  honourable, 
Thou  would' st  have  told  this  tale  for  virtue,  not 
For  such  an  end  thou  seek'st ;  as  base,  as  strange. 
Thou  wrong* st  a  gentleman,  who  is  as  far 
From  thy  report,  as  thou  from  honour ;  and 
Solicit'st  here  a  lady,  that  disdains 
Thee  and  the  devil  alike. — What  ho,  Pisanio ! — 
The  king  my  father  shall  be  made  acquainted 
Of  thy  assault :  if  he  shall  think  it  fit, 
A  saucy  stranger,  in  his  court,  to  mart 
As  in  a  Romish  stew,2  and  to  expound 
His  beastly  mind  to  us ;  he  hath  a  court 

1  Let  me  my  service  tender  on  your  lips.']  Perhaps  this  is  an 
allusion  to  the  ancient  custom  of  swearing  servants  into  noble 
families.  So,  in  Caltha  Poetarum,  &c.  1599: 

" she  swears  him  to  his  good  abearing, 

"  Whilst  her  faire  sweet  lips  were  the  books  of  swear- 
ing." STEEVENS. 

9  As  in  a  Romish  stetv,~]  Romish  was,  in  the  time  of  Shak- 
epeare,  used  instead  of  Roman.  There  were  stews  at  Rome  in 
the  time  of  Augustus.  The  same  phrase  occurs  in  Claudius  Ti- 
berius Nero,  1607 : 

" my  mother  deem'd  me  chang'd, 

"  Poor  woman !  in  the  loathsome  Romish  stewes :" 
and  the  author  of  this  piece  seems  to  have  been  a  scholar. 
Again,  in  Wit  in  a  Constable,  by  Glapthorne,  1640: 
"  A  Romish  cirque,  or  Grecian  hippodrome." 
Again,  Thomas  Drant's  translation  of  the  first  epistle  of  the 
second  Book  of  Horace,  1567  : 

"  The  Romishe  people  wise  in  this,  in  this  point  only 
just."     STEEVENS. 


460  CYMBELINE.  ACT  i. 

He  litfle  cares  for,  and  a  daughter  whom3 
He  not  respects  at  all. — What  ho,  Pisanio  !— 

IACH.  O  happy  Leonatus !  I  may  say ; 
The  credit,  that. thy  lady  hath  of  thee, 
Deserves  thy  trust ;  and  thy  most  perfect  goodness 
Her  assured  credit ! — Blessed  live  you  long ! 
A  lady  to  the  worthiest  sir,  that  ever 
Country  call'd  his !  and  you  his  mistress,  only 
For  the  most  worthiest  fit !  Give  me  your  pardon. 
I  have  spoke  this,  to  know  if  your  affiance 
Were  deeply  rooted ;  and  shall  make  your  lord, 
That  which  he  is,  new  o'er  :  And  he  is  one 
The  truest  manner'd ;  such  a  holy  witch, 
That  he  enchants  societies  unto  him  :* 
Half  all  men's  hearts  are  his. 

IMO.  You  make  amends. 

IACH.  He  sits  'mongst  men,  like  a  descended 

god:5 
He  hath  a  kind  of  honour  sets  him  off, 

and  a  daughter  whom — J  Old  copy — ivho.    Corrected 


in  the  second  folio.    MALONE. 

4 stick  a  holy  witch, 

That  he  enchants  societies  unto  him :]     So,  in  our  author's 
Lover's  Complaint  : 

" he  did  in  the  general  bosom  reign 

"  Of  young  and  old,  and  sexes  both  enchanted — 
"  Consents  bewitch' d,  ere  he  desire,  have  granted." 

MALONE. 

* like  a  descended  god:"]     So,  in  Hamlet: 

" a  station  like  the  herald  Mercury, 

"  New  lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill." 
The  old  copy  nas — defended.  The  correction  was  made  by  the 
editor  of  the  second  folio.     Defend  is  again  printed  for  descend, 
in  the  last  scene  of  Timon  of  Athens.     MALONE. 

So,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  twenty-third  Book  of  Homer's 
Odyssey  .- 

" , —  as  he  were 

"  A  god  descended  from  the  starry  sphere."    STEEVENS. 


sc.  7ii.  CYMBELINE.  461 

More  than  a  mortal  seeming.     Be  not  angry, 
Most  mighty  princess,  that  I  have  adventur'd 
To  try  your  taking  a6  false  report ;  which  hath 
Honoured  with  confirmation  your  great  judgment 
In  the  election  of  a  sir  so  rare, 
Which  you  know,  cannot  err :  The  love  I  bear  him 
Made  me  to  fan  you  thus ;  but  the  gods  made  you, 
Unlike  all  others,  chaffless.     Pray,  your  pardon. 

IMO.  All's  well,  sir :  Take  my  power  i'the  court 
for  yours. 

IACH.  My  humble  thanks.     I  had  almost  forgot 
To  entreat  your  grace  but  in  a  small  request, 
And  yet  of  moment  too,  for  it  concerns 
Your  lord ;  myself,  and  other  noble  friends, 
Are  partners  in  the  business. 

IMO.  Pray,  what  is't  ? 

IACH.  Some  dozen  Romans  of  us,  and  your  lord, 
(The  best  feather  of  our  wing7)  have  mingled  sums, 
To  buy  a  present  for  the  emperor ; 
Which  I,  the  factor  for  the  rest,  have  done 
In  France  :  'Tis  plate,  of  rare  device ;  and  jewels, 
Of  rich  and  exquisite  form ;  their  values  great ; 
And  I  am  something  curious,  being  strange,8 
To  have  them  in  safe  stowage  ;  May  it  please  you 
To  take  them  in  protection  ? 

IMO.  Willingly ; 

And  pawn  mine  honour  for  their  safety :  since 


6 taking  a — ]     Old  copy,   vulgarly  and  unmetrically, 

taking  of  a — .     STEEVENS. 

7 best   feather  of  our  wing — ]     So,   in   Churchyard's 

Warning  to  Wanderers  Abroad,  1593: 

"  You  are  so  great  you  would  faine  march  in  fielde, 
"  That  world  should  judge  you  feathers  of  one  wing" 

STEEVENS. 


being  strange,"}  i.  e.  being  a  stranger.     STEEVENS. 


462  CYMBELINE.  ACT  A 

My  lord  hath  interest  in  them,  I  will  keep  them 
In  my  bed-chamber. 

IACH.  They  are  in  a  trunk, 

Attended  by  my  men :  I  wilt  make  bold 
To  send  them  to  you,  only  for  this  night  j 
I  must  aboard  to-morrow. 

IMO.  O,  no,  no. 

IACH.  Yes,  I  beseech;  or  I  shall  short  my  word, 
By  lengthening  my  return.     From  Gallia 
I  cross'd  the  seas  on  purpose,  and  on  promise 
To  see  your  grace. 

IMO.  I  thank  you  for  your  pains  ; 

But  not  away  to-morrow? 

IACH.  O,  I  must,  madam : 

•'Therefore,  I  shall  beseech  you,  if  you  please 
To  greet  your  lord  with  writing,  do't  to-night : 
I  have  outstood  my  time ;  which  is  material 
To  the  tender  of  our  present. 

IMO.  I  will  write. 

Send  your  trunk  to  me  ;  it  shall  safe  be  kept, 
And  truly  yielded  you :  You  are  very  welcome. 

[Exeunt. 


ACT  IL  CYMBELINE.  463 

ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 

Court  before  Cymbeline's  Palace. 
Enter  CLOTEN,  and  Two  Lords. 

CLO.  Was  there  ever  man  had  such  luck !  when 
I  kissed  the  jack  upon  an  up-cast,9  to  be  hit  away! 
I  had  a  hundred  pound  on't :  And  then  a  whore- 
son jackanapes  must  take  me  up  for  swearing ;  as 
if  I  borrowed  mine  oaths  of  him,  and  might  not 
spend  them  at  my  pleasure. 

1  LORD.  What  got  he  by  that?  You  have  broke 
his  pate  with  your  bowi. 

2  LORD.  If  his  wit  had  been  like  him  that  broke 
it,  it  would  have  ran  all  out.  [Aside. 

CLO.  When  a  gentleman  is  disposed  to  swear,  it 
is  not  for  any  standers-by  to  curtail  his  oaths:  Ha? 

2  LORD.  No,  my  lord ;  nor  \_Aside.~]  crop  the  ears 
of  them.1 

CLO.  Whoreson  dog ! — I  give  him  satisfaction  ?2 
'Would,  he  had  been  one  of  my  rank ! 

9 kissed  the  jack  upon  an  up-cast,']     He  is  describing  his 

fate  at  bowls.  The  jack  is  the  small  bowl  at  which  the  other* 
are  aimed.  He  who  is  nearest  to  it  wins.  To  kiss  the  jack  is  a 
state  of  great  advantage.  JOHNSON. 

This  expression  frequently  occurs  in  the  old  comedies.  So,  in 
A  Woman  never  vex'd,  by  Rowley,  1632:  "  This  city  bottler 
has  kissed  the  mistress  at  the  first  cast."  STEEVENS. 

1  No,  my  lord ;  &c.]     This,  I  believe,  should  stand  thus : 

1  Lord.  No,  my  lord. 

2  Lord.  Nor  crop  the  ears  of  them.     [Aside.    JOHNSON. 

*  /  give  him  satisfaction  ?]  Old  copy — gave.  Corrected  by 
the  editor  of  the  second  folio.  MALONE. 


464  CYMBELINE.  ACT  n. 

2  LORD.  To  have  smelt3  like  a  fool.       [Aside. 

CLO.  I  am  not  more  vexed  at  any  thing  in  the 
earth, — A  pox  on't !  I  had  rather  not  be  so  noble 
as  I  am  ;  they  dare  not  fight  with  me,  because  of 
the  queen  my  mother :  every  jack-slave  hath  his 
belly  full  of  fighting,  and  I  must  go  up  and  down 
like  a  cock  that  no  body  can  match. 

2  LORD.  You  are  a  cock  and  capon  too ;  and 
you  crow,  cock,  with  your  comb  on.4  [Aside. 

CLO.  Sayest  thou  ? 

1  LORD.  It  is  not  fit,  your  lordship  should  un- 
dertake every  companion5  that  you  give  offence  to. 

CLO.  No,  I  know  that :  but  it  is  fit,  I  should 
commit  offence  to  my  inferiors. 

2  LORD.  Ay,  it  is  fit  for  your  lordship  only. 
CLO.  Why,  so  I  say. 

1  LORD.  Did  you  hear  of  a  stranger,   that's 
come  to  court  to-night  ? 

CLO.  A  stranger !  and  I  not  know  on't ! 

2  LORD.   He's   a  strange   fellow  himself,   and 
knows  it  not.  [Aside. 


s  To  have  smelt — ]     A  poor  quibble  on  the  word  rank  in  the 
preceding  speech.     MALONE. 

The  same  quibble  has  already  occurred  in  As  you  like  it,  Act 
I.  sc.  ii : 

"  Touch.  Nay,  if  I  keep  not  my  rank — 

"  Ros.  Thou  losest  thy  old  smell."     STEEVENS. 

4 with  your  comb  on.]     The  allusion  is  to  a  fool's  cap, 

which  hath  a  comb  like  a  cock's.    JOHNSON. 

The  intention  of  the  speaker,  is  to  call  Cloten  a  coxcomb. 

M.  MASON. 

* every  companion — ]     The  use  of  companion  was  the 

same  as  oifdlaw  now.    It  was  a  word  of  contempt.     JOHNSON. 
See  Vol.  XVI.  p.  180,  n.  9;  and  p.  384,  n.  7.    MALONE. 


sc.  i.  CYMBELINE.  465 

1  LORD.  There's  an  Italian  come;  and,  'tis 
thought,  one  of  Leonatus'  friends. 

CLO.  Leonatus  !  a  banished  rascal ;  and  he's  an- 
other, whatsoever  he  be.  Who  told  you  of  this 
stranger  ? 

1  LORD.  One  of  your  lordship's  pages. 

CLO.  Is  it  fit,  I  went  to  look  upon  him  ?  Is  there 
no  derogation  in't  ? 

1  LORD.  You  cannot  derogate,  my  lord. 
CLO.  Not  easily,  I  think. 

2  LORD.  You  are  a  fool  granted ;  therefore  your 
issues  being  foolish,  do  not  derogate.          [Aside. 

CLO.  Come,  I'll  go  see  this  Italian  :  What  I  have 
lost  to-day  at  bowls,  I'll  win  to-night  of  him. 
Come,  go. 

2  LORD.  I'll  attend  your  lordship. 

[Exeunt  CLOTEN  and  first  Lord. 
That  such  a  crafty  devil  as  is  his  mother 
Should  yield  the  world  this  ass  !  a  woman,  that 
Bears  all  down  with  her  brain  ;  and  this  her  son 
Cannot  take  two  from  twenty  for  his  heart, 
And  leave  eighteen.     Alas,  poor  princess, 
Thou  divine  Imogen,  what  thou  endur'st ! 
Betwixt  a  father  by  thy  step-dame  govern'd ; 
A  mother  hourly  coining  plots ;  a  wooer, 
More  hateful  than  the  foul  expulsion  is 
Of  thy  dear  husband,  than  that  horrid  act 
Of  the  divorce  he'd  make !  The  heavens  hold  firm 
The  walls  of  thy  dear  honour ;  keep  unshak'd 
That  temple,  thy  fair  mind;  that  thou  may'st  stand, 
To  enjoy  thy  banish'd  lord,  and  this  great  land! 

[Exit. 


VOL.  XVIII.  2  II 


406  CYMBELINE.  ACTJI. 

SCENE  II. 

A  Bed-chamber;  in  one  Part  of  it  a  Trunk. 

IMOGEN  reading  in  her  Bed;  a  Lady  attending. 

IMO.     Who's  there  ?  my  woman  Helen  ? 
LADY.  Please  you,  madam. 

IMO.  What  hour  is  it  ? 
LADY.  Almost  midnight,  madam. 

IMO.  I  have  read  three  hours  then :  mine  eyes 

are  weak  : — 

Fold  down  the  leaf  where  I  have  left :  To  bed : 
Take  not  away  the  taper,  leave  it  burning ; 
And  if  thou  canst  awake  by  four  o'the  clock, 
I  pr'ythee,  call  me.    Sleep  hath  seiz'd  me  wholly. 

\_Exit  Lady. 

To  your  protection  I  commend  me,  gods  ! 
From  fairies,  and  the  tempters  of  the  night,6 
Guard  me,  beseech  ye  ! 

[Sleeps.     lAcuiMo,Jrom  the  Trunk. 

IACH.  The  crickets  sing,  and  man's  o'er-labour'd 

sense 

Repairs  itself  by  rest:  Our  Tarquin7  thus 
Did  softly  press  the  rushes,8  ere  he  waken'd 

6  From  fairies,  and  the  tempters  of  the  night,']    Banquo,  in 
Macbeth,  nas  already  deprecated  the  same  nocturnal  evils : 
*'  Restrain  in  me  the  cursed  thoughts,  that  nature 
"  Gives  way  to  in  repose !"     STEEVENS. 

7 Our  Tarquin — ]   The  speaker  is  an  Italian. 

JOHXSON. 
Tarquin  thus 


Did  softly  press  the  rushes,]     This  shows  that  Shakspcarc's 
idea  was,  that  the  ravishing  strides  of  Tarquin  were  softly  ones, 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  467 

The  chastity  he  wounded.-  —  Cytherea, 
How  bravely  thou  becom'st  thy  bed  !  fresh  lily  !9 
And  whiter  than  the  sheets  !  That  I  might  touch  ! 
But  kiss  ;  one  kiss  !  —  Rubies  unparagon'd, 
How  dearly  they  do't  !  —  'Tis  her  breathing  that 

and  may  serve  as  a  comment  on  that  passage  in  Macbeth.     See 
Vol.  X.  p.  102,  n.  9.    BLACKSTONE. 

-  the  rushes,]  It  was  the  custom  in  the  time  of  our  author 
to  strew  chambers  with  rushes,  as  we  now  cover  them  with 
carpets:  the  practice  is  mentioned  in  Caius  de  Ephemera  Bri- 
tannica.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Thomas  Newton's  Herball  to  the  Bible,  8vo.  1587: 
"  Sedge  and  rushes,  —  with  the  which  many  in  this  country  do 
use  in  sommer  time  to  strawe  their  parlors  and  churches,  as  well 
for  coolenes  as  for  pleasant  smell." 
Again,  in  Arden  ofFeversham,  1592: 
"  -  his  blood  remains. 
"  Why  strew  rushes." 
Again,  in  Bussy  d'Ambois,  1607  : 

"  Were  not  the  king  here,  he  should  strew  the  chamber  like 
a  rush." 

Shakspeare  has  the  same  circumstance  in  his  Rape  ofLucrece  : 
"  -  by  the  light  he  spies 
"  Lucretia's  glove  wherein  her  needle  sticks  ; 
"  He  takes  it  from  the  rushes  where  it  lies,"  &c. 
The  ancient  English  stage  also,  as  appears  from  more  than  one 
passage  in  Decker's  Gul's  Hornbook,  1609,  was  strewn  with 
rushes:  "  Salute  all  your  gentle  acquaintance  that  are  spred 
either  on  the  rushes  or  on  stooles  about  you,  and  drawe  what 
troope  you  can  from  the  stage  after  you."     STEEVENS. 


Cytherea, 


Hoia  bravely  thou  becom'st  thy  bed!  fresh  lily! 
And  whiter  than  the  sheets  !]    So,  in  our  author's  Venus  and 
Adonis  : 

"  Who  sees  his  true  love  in  her  naked  bed, 
"  Teaching  the  sheets  a  "whiter  hue  than  white." 
Again,  in  The  Rape  ofLucrece: 

"  Who  o'er  the  white  sheets  peers  her  whiter  chin." 

MALONE. 

Thus,  also,  Jaffier,  in  Venice  Preserved: 
"  •  -  in  virgin  sheets, 
"  White  as  her  bosom."     STEEVENS. 

2  H  2 


4G8  CYMBELINE.  ACT  u. 

Perfumes  the  chamber  thus : *  The  flame  o'thetaper 
Bows  toward  her ;  and  would  under-peep  her  lids, 
To  see  the  enclosed  lights,  now  canopied2 
Under  these  windows  :3  White  and  azure,  lac'd 
With  blue  of  heaven's  own  tinct.4 — But  my  de- 
sign ? 

1  'Tis  her  breathing  that 

Perfumes  the  chamber  thus:~\  The  same  hyperbole  is  found 
in  The  Metamorphosis  of  Pygmalion's  Image,  by  J.  Marston, 
1598: 

"  '  no  lips  did  seem  so  fair 

"  In  his  conceit ;  through  which  he  thinks  dothjlie 

"  So  sweet  a  breath  that  doth  perfume  the  air" 

MALONE. 

* now  canopied — ]  Shakspeare  has  the  same  expression 

in  Tarquin  and  Lucrece: 

"  Her  eyes,  like  marigolds,  had  sheath'd  their  light, 

"  And,  canopied  in  darkness,  sweetly  lay, 

"  Till  they  might  open  to  adorn  the  day."     MALONE. 

3  Under  these  windows :]  i.  e.  her  eyelids.  So,  in  Romeo  atid 
Juliet  : 

"  Thy  eyes'  ivindows  fall, 

"  Like  death,  when  he  shuts  up  the  day  of  life." 
Again,  in  his  Venus  and  Adonis: 

"  The  night  of  sorrow  now  is  turn'd  to  day ; 

«'  Her  two  blue  windows  faintly  she  up-heaveth." 

MALONK. 

« White  and  azure,  lac'd 

With  blue  of  heaven's  own  tinct.]     We  should  read  : 

White  with  azure  lac'd, 

The  blue  of  heaven's  own  tinct. 
i.  e.  the  white  skin  lac'd  with  blue  veins.     WARBURTOX. 

So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  His  silver  skin  lac'd  with  his  golden  blood." 
The  passage  before  us,  without  Dr.  Warburton's  emendation,  is, 
to  me  at  least,  unintelligible.     STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  What  envious  streaks  do  lace  the  severing  clouds." 

These  words,  I  apprehend,  refer  not  to  Imogen's  eye-lids,  (of 
which  the  poet  would  scarcely  have  given  so  particular  a  descrip- 
tion,) but  to  the  inclosed  lights,  i.  e.  her  eyes:  which  though 


ac.  n.  CYMBELINE.  469 

To  note  the  chamber : — I  will  write  all  down  : — 
Such,  and  such,  pictures : — There  the  window : — 

Such 

The; adornment  of  her  bed  ; — The  arras,  figures, 
Why,  such,  and  such:5 — And  the  contents  o'the 

story,— 


now  shut,  lachimo  had  seen  before,  and  which  are  here  said  in 
poetical  language  to  be  blue,  and  that  blue  celestial. 

.  Dr.  Warburton  is  of  opinion  that  the  eye-lid  was  meant,  and 
according  to  his  notion,  the  poet  intended  to  praise  its  white 
skin,  and  blue  veins. 

Drayton,  who  has  often  imitated  Shakspeare,  seems  to  have 
viewed  this  passage  in  the  same  light : 

"  Arid  these  sweet  veins  by  nature  rightly  plac'd, 
"  Wherewith  she  seems  the  white  skin  to  have  lac'd, 
"  She  soon  doth  alter."     The  Mooncalf,  1627. 

MALONE. 

We  learn  from  a  quotation  in  n.  3,  that  by  blue  windows  were 
meant  blue  eye-lids;  and  indeed  our  author  has  dwelt  on  cor- 
responding imagery  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

" violets,  dim, 

"  But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes." 
A  particular  description,  therefore,  of  the  same  objects,  might, 
in  the  present  instance,  have  been  designed. 

Thus,  in  Chapman's  translation  of  the  twenty-third  Book  of 
Homer's  Odyssey.  Minerva  is  the  person  described  ; 

" the  Dame 

"  That  bears  the  blue  sky  intermix'd  with  flame 

"  In  her  fair  eyes"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

5 The  arras,  Jigztres, 

Why,  such,  and  such:~\  We  should  print,  says  Mr.  M.  Ma- 
son, thus:  "  — the  arras-figures  ;  that  is,  the  figures  of  the  arras.'* 
But,  I  think,  he  is  mistaken.  It  appears  from  what  lachimo  says 
afterwards,  that  he  had  noted,  not  only  the  figures  of  the  arras, 
but  the  stuff  of  which  the  arras  was  composed: 

*' It  was  hang'd 

"  With  tapestry  of  silk  and  silver  ;  the  story 

"  Proud  Cleopatra,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Act  V : 

" averring  notes 

"  Of  chamber-fianging,  pictures,"  &c.     MALONE. 


476  CYMBELIN&  ACT  it. 

Ah,  but  some  natural  notes  about  her  body, 
Above  ten  thousand  meaner  moveables 
Would  testify,  to  enrich  mine  inventory : 
O  sleep,  thou  ape  of  death,  lie  dull  upon  her ! 
And  be  her  sense  but  as  a  monument, 
Thus  in  a  chapel  lying  !6 — Come  off,  come  off;— 

[Taking  off  her  Bracelet. 

As  slippery,  as  the  Gordian  knot  was  hard ! — 
'Tis  mine  ;  and  this  will  witness  outwardly, 
As  strongly  as  the  conscience  does  within, 
To  the  madding  of  her  lord.     On  her  left  breast 
A  mole  cinque-spotted,7  like  the  crimson  drops 


6 but  as  a  monument, 

Thus  in  a  chapel  tying!']  Shakspeare  was  here  thinking  of 
the  recumbent  whole-length  figures,  which  in  his  time  were 
usually  placed  on  the  tombs  of  considerable  persons.  The  head 
was  always  reposed  upon  a  pillow.  He  has  again  the  same  allu- 
sion in  his  Rape  ofLucrece.  [See  Mr.  Malone's  edition,  Vol.  X. 
p.  109,  n.  4.]  See  also  Vol.  VIII.  p.  340,  n.  6.  MALONE. 

7 On  her  left  breast 

A  mole  cinque-spotted,']  Our  author  certainly  took  this 
circumstance  from  some  translation  of  Boccacio's  novel ;  for  it 
does  not  occur  in  the  imitation  printed  in  Westward  Jbr  Smelts, 
which  the  reader  will  find  at  the  end  of  this  play.  In  the 
DECAMERONE,  Ambrogioulo,  (the  lachimo  of  our  author, )  who 
is  concealed  in  a  chest  in  the  chamber  of  Madonna  Gineura, 
(whereas  in  Westward  for  Smelts  the  contemner  of  female 
chastity  hides  himself  under  the  lady's  bed,)  wishing  to  discover 
some  particular  mark  about  her  person,  which  might  help  him  to 
deceive  her  husband,  "  at  last  espied  a  large  mole  under  her  left 
breast,  with  several  hairs  round  it,  of  the  colour  of  gold." 

Though  this  mole  is  said  in  the  present  passage  to  be  on  Imo- 
gen's breast,  in  the  account  that  lachimo  afterwards  gives  to 
Posthumus,  our  author  has  adhered  closely  to  his  original : 
" under  her  breast 


"  (Worthy  the  pressing)  lies  a  mole,  right  proud 
"  Of  that  most  delicate  lodging."    MALONE. 


Sff.  II.  CYMJ3ELINE.,  471 

I'the  bottom  of  a  cowslip : 8  Here's  a  voucher, 
Stronger  than  ever  law  could  make  :  this  secret 
Will  force  him  think  I  have  pick'd  the  lock,  and 

ta'en 
The  treasure  of  her  honour.    No  more. — To  what 

end  ? 

Why  should  I  write  this  down,  that's  rivetted, 
Screw'd  to  my  memory  ?  She  hath  been  reading  late 
The  tale  of  Tereus  ;9  here  the  leaf's  turn'd  down, 
Where  Philomel  gave  up ; — I  have  enough : 
To  the  trunk  again,  and  shut  the  spring  of  it. 
Swift,  swift,  you   dragons  of  the  night!1 — that 

dawning 


8 like  the  crimson  drops 

I'the  bottom  of  a  cowslip:']  This  simile  contains  the  smallest 
out  of  a  thousand  proofs  that  Shakspeare  was  an  observer  of  na- 
ture, though,  in  this  instance,  no  very  accurate  describer  of  it, 
for  the  drops  alluded  to  are  of  a  deep  yellow.  STEEVENS. 


•  She  hath  been  reading  late 


The  tale  of  Tereus ;]  [See  Rape  ofLucrece,  Mr.  Malone's 
edit.  Vol.  X.  p.  149,  n.  1.]  Tereus  and  Progne  is  the  second 
tale  in  A  Petite  Palace  of '  Pettie  his  Pleasure,  printed  in  quarto, 
in  1576.  The  same  tale  is  related  inGower's  poem  De  Confessione 
Amantis,  B.  V.  fol.  1 13,  b.  and  in  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  L.  VI. 

MALONE. 

1 you  dragons  of  the  night  /]     The  task  of  drawing  the 

chariot  of  night  was  assigned  to  dragons,  on  account  of  their 
supposed  watchfulness.  Milton  mentions  the  dragon  yoke  of 
night  in  II  Penseroso;  and  in  his  Masque  at  Ludlow  Castle  : 

" the  dragon  womb 

"  Of  Stygian  darkness." 
Again,  In  Obitum  Pr&.mlis  Eliensis  : 

" sub  pedibus  deam 

"  Vidi  triformem,  dum  coercebat  suos 

"  Fraenis  draconcs  aureis." 

It  may  be  remarked,  that  the  whole  tribe  of  serpents  sleep 
with  their  eyes  open,  and  therefore  appear  to  exert  a  constant 
vigilance.  See  Vol.  XIII.  p.  309,  n.  9.  STEEVENS. 


472  CYMBELINE.  ACT  n. 

May  bare  the  raven's  eye  :2  I  lodge  in  fear ; 
Though  this  a  heavenly  angel,  hell  is  here. 

[Clock  strikes. 
One,  two,  three,3 — Time,  time ! 

[Goes  into  tlie  Trunk.     The  Scene  closes. 

*  that  dawning 

May  bare  the  raven's  eye  .•]  The  old  copy  has — beare.  The 
correction  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Theobald  :  and  I  think  properly 
adopted  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer  and  Dr.  Johnson.  MALONE. 

The  poet  means  no  more  than  that  the  light  might  wake  the 
raven ;  or,  as  it  is  poetically  expressed,  bare  his  eye.  STEEVE^JS. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  raven  is  a  very  early  bird,  perhaps 
earlier  than  the  lark.  Our  poet  says  of  the  crow,  (a  bird  whose 
properties  resemble  very  much  those  of  the  raven,)  in  his  Troilus 
and  Cressida: 

"  O  Cressida,  but  that  the  busy  day 
"  Wak'd  by  the  lark^has  rous'd  the  ribbald  crows — ." 

HEATH. 

3  One,  two,  three,"]  Our  author  is  hardly  ever  exact  in  his 
computation  of  time.  Just  before  Imogen  went  to  sleep,  she 
asked  her  attendant  what  hour  it  was,  and  was  informed  by  her, 
it  was  almost  midnight.  lachimo,  immediately  after  she  has 
fallen  asleep,  comes  from  the  trunk,  and  the  present  soliloquy 
cannot  have  consumed  more  than  a  few  minutes : — yet  we  are 
now  told  that  it  is  three  o'clock.  MALONE. 


ac.  in.  CYMBELINE.  473 

SCENE  III. 

An  Ante-Chamber  adjoining  Imogen's  Apartment. 
Enter  CLOTEN  and  Lords. 

1  LORD.  Your  lordship  is  the  most  patient  man 
in  loss,  the  most  coldest  that  ever  turned  up  ace. 

CLO.  It  would  make  any  man  cold  to  lose. 

1  LORD.  But  not  every  man  patient,  after  the 
noble  temper  of  your  lordship ;  You  are  most  hot, 
and  furious,  when  you  win. 

CLO.  Winning  would  put  any  man  into  courage : 
If  I  could  get  this  foolish  Imogen,  I  should  have 
gold  enough  :  It's  almost  morning,  is't  not  ? 

1  LORD.  Day,  my  lord. 

CLO.  I  wrould  this  musick  would  come :  I  am 
advised  to  give  her  musick  o'mornings  j  they  say, 
it  will  penetrate. 

Enter  Musicians. 

Come  on ;  tune :  If  you  can  penetrate  her  with 
your  fingering,  so ;  we'll  try  with  tongue  too :  if 
none  will  do,  let  her  remain ;  but  I'll  never  give 
o'er.  First,  a  very  excellent  good-conceited  thing ; 
after,  a  wonderful  sweet  air,  with  admirable  rich 
words  to  it, — and  then  let  her  consider. 


474  CYMBELINE.  ACT  u. 


SONG. 

• 

Hark!  hark!  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings  f 

And  Pluxbus  'gins  arise, 
His  steeds  to  water  at  those  springs 

On  chalic'djlowcrs  that  lies;5 

4  Hark!  hark!  the  lark  at  heaven' s  gate  sings,"]      The  same 
hyperbole  occurs  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  Book  V : 

" ye  birds 

**  That  singing  up  to  heaven's  gate  ascend." 
Again,  in  Shakspeare's  29th  Sonnet : 

"  Like  to  the  lark  at  break  of  day  arising 

"  From  sullen  earth,  sings  hymns  at  heaven's  gate" 

STEEVEVS. 

Perhaps  Shakspearehad  Lyly's  Alexander  and  Campaspe  in  his 
mind,  when  he  wrote  this  song : 

" who  is't  notv  we  hear  ; 

"  None  but  the  lark  so  shril  and  clear ; 
**  Now  at  heaven's  gates  she  claps  her  wings, 
"  The  morn  not  waiting  till  she  sings. 
"Hark,  hark "     REED. 

In  this  Song,  Shakspeare  might  have  imitated  some  of  the 
following  passages : 

"  The  besy  larke,  the  messager  of  day, 
"  Saleweth  in  hire  song  the  morwe  gray ; 
"  And  firy  Phebus  riseth  up  so  bright,"  &c. 

Chaucer's  Knight's  Tale,  v.  14-93,  Tyrwhitt's  edit. 
"  Lyke  as  the  larke  upon  the  somers  daye 
"  Whan  Titan  radiant  burnisheth  his  bemes  bright, 
"  Mounteth  on  hye,  with  her  melodious  laye 
"  Of  the  sone  shyne  engladed  with  the  lyght." 

Skelton's  Crowne  of  Laurel. 
"  Wake  now  my  love,  awake ;  for  it  is  time, 
"  The  rosy  morne  long  since  left  Tithon's  bed, 
"  Allready  to  her  silver  coach  to  clime ; 
"  And  Phoebus  'gins  to  shew  his  glorious  head. 
"  Harke,  how  the  cheerful  birds  do  chaunt  their  layes, 
"  And  carol  of  love's  praise. 
"  The  merry  larke  her  mattins  sings  aloft, — 


sc.  lit.  CYMBELINE.  475 

And  winking  Mary-buds  begin 

To  ope  their  golden  eyes;6 
With  every  thing  that  pretty  bin:'1 

My  lady  sweet,  arise; 
Arise,  arise. 


"  Ah  my  deere  love,  why  doe  ye  sleepe  thus  long 
"  When  raeeter  were  they  ye  should  now  awake." 

Spenser's  Epithalamium* 

Again,  in  our  author's  Venuis  and  Adonis: 

"  Lo  here  the  gentle  lark,  weary  of  rest, 
"  From  his  moist  cabinet  mounts  up  on  high, 
"  And  wakes  the  morning,  from  whose  silver  breast 
"  The  sun  ariseth  in  his  majesty." 
I  am  unable  to  decide  whether  the  following  lines  ih  Du  Bartas 

were  written  before  Shakspeare's  song,  or  not : 
"  La  gentille  alouette  avec  son  tire-lire, 
"  Tire-lire,  a  lire,  &  tire-lirant  tire, 
"  Vers  la  voute  du  del,  puis  son  vol  vers  ce  lieu 
"  Vire,  &  desire  dire  adieu  Dieu,  adieu  Dieu." 

DOUCE. 

These  lines  of  Du  Bartas  were  certainly  written  before  Shak- 
speare's song.  They  are  quoted  in  Elyot's  Orthoepia  Gallica, 
4to.  1593,  p.  146,  with  the  following  translation: 

"  The  pretie  larke  mans  angrie  mood  doth  charme  with 

melodic 
"  Her  Tee-ree-lee-ree,  Tec-   ree  lee  ree  chirppring  in 

the  skie 
"  Up  to  the  court  of  Jove,  sweet  bird  mounting  with 

flickering  wings 

"  And  downe  againe,  my  Jove  adieu,  sweet  love  adieu 
she  sings."     REED. 

s  His  steeds  to  tvater  at  those  springs 

On  chalic'd  flowers  that  lies;~]     i.  e.  the  morning  sun  dries 
up  the  dew  which  lies  in  the  cups  of  flowers.     WARBURTON. 

It  may  be'noted  that  the  cup  of  a  flower  is  called  calix,  whence 
chalice.  JOHNSON. 


•those  springs 


On  chalic'd  Jlovsers  that  lies;]  It  may  be  observed,  with  re- 
gard to  this  apparent  false  concord,  that  in  very  old  English, 
the  third  person  plural  of  the  present  tense  endeth  in  eth,  as 
well  as  the  singular ;  and  often  familiarly  in  es,  as  might  be  ex- 


476  CYMBELINE.  ACT  u. 

So,  get  you  gone :  If  this  penetrate,  I  will  consider 

cmplified  from  Chaucer,  &c.     Nor  was  this  antiquated  idiom 

worn  out  in  our  author's  time,  as  appears  from  the  following 

passage  in  Romeo  and  Juliet: 

"  And  bakes  the  elf-locks  in  foul  sluttish  hairs, 
"  Which  once  untangled,  much  misfortune  bodes." 

as  well  as  from  many  others  in  the  Rcligucs  of'  ancient  English 

Poetry.    PERCY. 

Dr.  Percy  might  have  added,  that  the  third  person  plural  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  present  tense  ended  in  eth,  and  of  the  Dano- 
Saxon  in  es,  which  seems  to  be  the  original  of  such  very  ancient 
English  idioms.  TOLLET. 

Shakspeare  frequently  offends  in  this  manner  against  the  rules 
of  grammar.  So,  in  Venus  and  Adonis  : 

"  She  lifts  the  coffer-lids  that  close  his  eyes, 

"  Where  lo,  two  lamps,  burnt  out,  in  darkness  lies" 

STEEVENS. 

See  also  Vol.  IV.  p.  78,  n.  9 ;  and  Vol.  VII.  p.  344,  n.  7. 
There  is  scarcely  a  page  of  our  author's  works  in  which  similar 
false  concords  may  not  be  found :  nor  is  this  inaccuracy  peculiar 
to  his  works,  being  found  in  many  other  books  of  his  time  and 
of  the  preceding  age.  Following  the  example  of  all  the  former 
editors,  I  have  silently  corrected  the  error,  in  all  places  except 
where  either  the  metre,  or  rhymes,  rendered  correction  impossi- 
ble. Whether  it  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  poet  or  his  printer,  it 
is  such  a  gross  offence  against  grammar,  as  no  modern  eye  or  ear 
could  have  endured,  if  from  a  wish  to  exhibit  our  author's  writ- 
ings with  strict  fidelity  it  had  been  preserved.  The  reformation 
therefore,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  pardoned,  and  considered  in  the 
same  light  as  the  substitution  of  modern  for  ancient  orthography. 

MALONE. 

''And  winking  Mary-buds  begin 

To  ope  their  golden  eyes;~\   The  marigold  is  supposed  to  shut 
itself  up  at  sun-set.     So,  in  one  of  Browne's  Pastorals : 

" the  day  is  waxen  olde, 

"  And  'gins  to  shut  up  with  the  marigold." 

A  similar  idea  is  expressed  more  at  large  in  a  very  scarce  book 
entitled,  A  Courtlie  Controversie  of  Cupid's  Cautels:  contemning 
fue  Tragicall  Histories  &c.  Translated  from  the  French,  by 
H.  W.  [Henry  Wotton]  4to.  1578,  p.  7 :— "  floures  which 
unfolding  their  tender  leaues,  at  the  breake  of  the  gray  morning, 
seemed  to  open  their  smiling  eies,  which  were  oppressed  wyth  the 
drowsinesse  of  the  passed  night"  &c.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  in.  CYMBELINE.  477 

your  musick  the  better  :8  if  it  do  not,  it  is  a  vice 
in  her  ears,  which  horse-hairs,  and  cats-guts,9  nor 
the  voice  of  unpaved  eunuch  to  boot,  can  never 
amend.  [Exeunt  Musicians. 

Enter  CYMBELINE  and  Queen. 

2  LORD.  Here  comes  the  king. 

CLO.  I  am  glad,  I  was  up  so  late ;  for  that's  the 
reason  I  was  up  so  early :  He  cannot  choose  but 
take  this  service  I  have  done,  fatherly. — Good  mor- 
row to  your  majesty,  and  to  my  gracious  mother. 

CYM.  Attend  you  here  the  door  of  our  stern 

daughter  ? 
Will  she  not  forth  ? 


7 1 pretty  bin :]  is  very  properly  restored  by  Sir  Thomas 

Hanmer,  for  pretty  is  ;  but  he  too  grammatically  reads  : 
With  all  the  things  that  pretty  bin.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  B.  I.  c.  i : 

"  That  which  of  them  to  take,  in  diverse  doubt  they  been" 
Again,  in  The  Arraignment  of  Paris,  1584: 

"  Sir,  you  may  boast  your  flockes  and  herdes,  that  bin 

both  fresh  and  fair." 
Again : 

"  As  fresh  as  bin  the  flowers  in  May." 
Again : 

"  Oenone,  while  we  bin  disposed  to  walk." 
Kirkman  ascribes  this  piece  to  Shakspeare.  The  real  author  was 
George  Peele.     STEEVENS. 

8 /  will  consider  your  musick  the  better :~]    i.  e.   I  will  pay 

you  more  amply  for  it.     So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  Act  IV: 
"  —  being  something  gently  considered,  I'll  bring  you"  &c. 

SEEEVENS. 

9 . cats-guts,"]     The  old  copy  reads — calves-guts. 

STEEVENS. 

The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe.  In  the  preceding  line 
voice,  which  was  printed  instead  of  vice,  was  corrected  by  the 
same  editor.  MALONE. 


478  CYMBELINE.  AeT  it. 

CLO.  I  have  assailed  her  with  musick,  but  she 
vouchsafes  no  notice. 

CYM.  The  exile  of  her  minion  is  too  new ; 
She  hath  not  yet  forgot  him  :  some  more  time 
Must  wear  the  print  of  his  remembrance  out, 
And  then  she's  yours. 

QUEEN.          You  are  most  bound  to  the  king ; 
Who  lets  go  by  no  vantages,  that  may 
Prefer  you  to  his  daughter :  Frame  yourself 
To  orderly  solicits ; 1  and  be  friended2 
With  aptness  of  the  season  :  make  denials 
Increase  your  services :  so  seem,  as  if 
You  were  inspir'd  to  do  those  duties  which 
You  tender  to  her ;  that  you  in  all  obey  her, 
Save  when  command  to  your  dismission  tends, 
And  therein  you  are  senseless. 

CLO.  Senseless  ?  not  so. 


Enter  a  Messenger. 

MESS.  So  like  you,  sir,  ambassadors  from  Rome; 
The  one  is  Caius  Lucius. 

CYM.  A  worthy  fellow, 

Albeit  he  comes  on  angry  purpose  now ; 


1  To  orderly  solicits ;]    i.  e.  regular  courtship,  courtship  after 
the  established  fashion.     STEEVENS. 

The  oldest  copy  reads — solicity.  The  correction  was  made  by 
the  editor  of  the  second  folio.    M  ALONE. 

* and  be  friended  #c.]     We  should  read : 

and  befriended 

With  aptness  of  the  season. 

That  is,  "  with  solicitations  not  only  proper  but  well  timed." 
So  Terence  says :  "  In  tempore  ad  earn  veni,  quod  omnium  re- 
rura  est  primum."  M.  MASON. 


so.  m.  CYMBELINE.  479 

But  that's  no  fault  of  his :  We  must  receive  him 
According  to  the  honour  of  his  sender ; 
And  towards  himself  his  goodness  forespent  on  us 
We  must  extend  our  notice.3 — Our  dear  son, 
When  you  have  given  good  morning  to  your 

mistress, 

Attend  the  queen,  and  us  ;  we  shall  have  need 
To  employ  you  towards  this  Roman. — Come,  our 

queen. 
[Exeunt  CYM.  Queen,  Lords,  and  Mess. 

CLO.  If  she  be  up,  I'll  speak  with  her ;  if  not, 
Let  her  lie  still,  and  dream. — By  your  leave,  ho! — 

[Knocks. 

I  know  her  women  are  about  her ;  What 
If  I  do  line  one  of  their  hands  ?  'Tis  gold 
Which  buys  admittance  ;  oft  it  doth  j  yea,  and 

makes 

Diana's  rangers  false  themselves,4  yield  up 
Their  deer  to  the  stand  of  the  stealer ;  and  'tis  gold 
Which  makes  the  true  man  kill'd,  and  saves  the 

thief; 
Nay,  sometime,  hangs  both  thief  and  true  man  : 

What 

3  And  towards  himself  his  goodness  forespent  on  us 

We  must  extend  our  notice.^     i.  e.  The  good  offices  done  by 
him  to  us  heretofore.    WARBURTON. 

That  is,  we  must  extend  towards  himself  our  notice  of  his 
goodness  heretofore  shown  to  us.  Our  author  has  many  similar 
ellipses.  So,  in  Julius  Ccesar: 

"  Thine  honourable  metal  may  be  wrought 
"  From  what  it  is  dispos'd  [£o]." 
See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  417,  n.  2 ;  and  Vol.  XV.  p.  196,  n.  4. 

MALONE. 

4 false  themselves,']    Perhaps,  in  this  instancejfa/se  is  not 

an  adjective,  but  a  verb;  and  as  such  is  used  in  The  Comedy  of 
Errors:  "  Nay,  not  sure,  in  a  thing  falsing"  Act  II.  sc.  ii. 
Spenser  often  has  it : 

"  Thoufalsed  hast  thy  faith  with  perjury."    STEEVENS. 


480  CYMBELINE.  ACT  u. 

Can  it  not  do,  and  undo  ?  I  will  make 

One  of  her  women  lawyer  to  me  ;  for 

I  yet  not  understand  the  case  myself. 

By  your  leave.  [Knocks* 

Enter  a  Lady. 

LADY.  Who's  there,  that  knocks  ? 
CLO.  A  gentleman. 

LADY.  No  more  ? 

CLO.  Yes,  and  a  gentlewoman's  son. 

LADY.  That's  more 

Than  some,  whose  tailors  are  as  dear  as  yours, 
Can  justly  boast  of:  What's  your  lordship's  plea- 
sure ? 

CLO.  Your  lady's  person  :  Is  she  ready  ? 

LADY.  Ay, 

To  keep  her  chamber. 

CLO.  There's  gold  for  you ;  sell  me  your  good 

report. 
LADY.  How !  my  good  name  ?  or  to  report  of 

you 
What  I  shall  think  is  good  ? — The  princess 

Enter  IMOGEN. 

CLO.  Good-morrow,  fairest  sister:  Your  sweet 
hand. 

IMO.  Good-morrow,  sir  :  You  lay  out  too  much 

pains 

For  purchasing  but  trouble  :  the  thanks  I  give, 
Is  telling  you  that  I  am  poor  of  thanks, 
And  scarce  can  spare  them. 

CLO.  Still,  I  swear,  I  love  you. 


so.  m.  CYMBELINE.  481 

IMO.  If  you  but  said  so,  'twere  as  deep  with  me : 
If  you  swear  still,  your  recompense  is  still 
That  I  regard  it  not. 

CLO.  This  is  no  answer. 

IMO.  But  that  you  shall  not  say  I  yield,  being 

silent, 

I  would  not  speak.     I  pray  you,  spare  me :  i'faith, 
I  shall  unfold  equal  discourtesy 
To  your  best  kindness ;  one  of  your  great  knowing 
Should  learn,  being  taught,  forbearance.5 

CLO.  To  leave  you  in  your  madness,  'twere  my 

sin : 
I  will  not. 

IMO.  Fools  are  not  mad  folks.6 

CLO.  Do  you  call  me  fool  ? 

IMO.  As  I  am  mad,  I  do : 
If  you'll  be  patient,  I'll  no  more  be  mad  ; 
That  cures  us  both.     I  am  much  sorry,  sir, 
You  put  me  to  forget  a  lady's  manners, 
By  being  so  verbal  :7  and  learn  now,  for  all, 
That  I,  which  know  my  heart,  do  here  pronounce, 
By  the  very  truth  of  it,  I  care  not  for  you ; 
And  am  so  near  the  lack  of  charity, 
(To  accuse  myself)  I  hate  you :  which  I  had  rather 
You  felt,  than  make't  my  boast. 

CLO.  You  sin  against 

3 one  of  your  great  knowing 

Should  learn,  being  taught,  forbearance."]    i.  e.  A  man  ixiho 
is  taught  forbearance  should  learn  it.     JOHNSON. 

6  Fools  are  not  mad  folks. ,]  This,  as  Cloten  very  well  under- 
stands it,  is  a  covert  mode  of  calling  him  fool.  The  meaning 
implied  is  this :  If  I  am  mad,  as  you  tell  me,  I  am  what  you  can 
never  be,  Fools  are  not  mad  folks.  STEEVENS. 

7 so  verbal:]]     is,  so  verbose,  so  full  of  talk.     JOHNSON. 

VOL.  xvur.  2  i 


182  CYMBEL1NE.  ACT  //. 

Obedience,  which  you  owe  your  father.     For 
The  contract8  you  pretend  with  that  base  wretch, 
(One,  bred  of  alms,  and  fostered  with  cold  dishes, 
With  scraps  o'the  court,)  it  is  no  contract,  none : 
And  though  it  be  allow' d  in  meaner  parties, 
(Yet  who,  than  he,  more  mean  ?)  to  knit  their  souls 
(On  whom  there  is  no  more  dependency 
JBut  brats  and  beggary)  in  self-ngur'd  knot ; 9 
Yet  you  are  curb'd  from  that  enlargement  by 
The  consequence  o'the  crown;  and  must  not  soil1 
The  precious  note  of  it  with  a  base  slave^ 
A  hilding  for  a  livery,2  a  squire's  cloth, 
A  pantler,  not  so  eminent. 

IMO.  Profane  fellow ! 

Wert  thou  the  son  of  Jupiter,  and  no  more, 
But  what  thou  art,  besides,  thou  wert  too  base 
To  be  his  groom  :  thou  wert  dignified  enough, 
Even  to  the  point  of  envy,  if  'twere  made 


9  The  contract  &e.]  Here  Sfiiakspeare  has  not  preserved,  with 
his  common  nicety,  the  uniformity  of  character.     The  speech 
of  Cloten  is  rough  and  harsh,  but  certainly  not  the  talk  of  one — 
"  Who  can't  take  two  from  twenty,  for  his  heart, 

"  And  leave  eighteen .*' 

His  argument  is  just  and  well  enforced,  and  its  prevalence  is  al- 
lowed throughout  all  civil  nations :  as  for  rudeness,  he  seems 
not  to  be  much  undermatched.  JOHNSON. 

9 in  self-figurM  knot;"]     This  is  nonsense.     We  should 

read — seltynger'd  knot,  i.  e.  A  knot  solely  of  their  own  tying, 
without  any  regard  to  parents,  or  other  more  publick  considera- 
tions. WARBURTON. 

But  why  nonsense  ?  A  sdf-jigwred  knot  is  a  knot  formed  by 
yourself.  JOHNSON. 

» soil— ]  Old  copy— foil.    See  Vol.  XVII.  p.  4-5,  n.  8. 

STEEVENS. 

*  A  hilding  for  a  livery,"]  A  low  fellow,  only  fit  to  wear  a 
livery,  and  serve  as  a  lacquey.  See  Vol.  IX.  p.  72,  n.  9 ;  and 
Vol.  XII.  p.  13,  n.  7 ;  and  p.  446,  n.  4.  M ALONE. 


JR  ///.  CYMBELINE.  483 

Comparative  for  your  virtues,3  to  be  styl'd 
The  tinder-hangman  of  his  kingdom  ;  and  hated 
For  being  preferr'd  so  well. 

CLO.  The  south-fog  rot  him ! 

IMO.  He  never  can  meet  more  mischance,  than 

come 

To  be  but  nam'd  of  thee.     His  meanest  garment, 
That  ever  hath  but  clipped  his  body,  is  dearer, 
In  my  respect,  than  all  the  hairs  above  thee^ 
Were-  they  all  made  such  men. — How  now,  Pi- 
sanio ?4 

Enter  PISANIO. 

CLO.  His  garment  ?  Now,  the  devil — 

IMO.  To  Dorothy  my  woman  hie  thee  presently: — : 

CLO.  His  garment  ? 

IMO.  I  am  sprighted  with  a  fool ; 5 

Frighted,  and  anger*  d  worse  : — Go,  bid  my  woman 
Search  for  a  jewel,  that  too  casually 
Hath  left  mine  arm;6  itwas  thy  master's:  'shrewme, 

•  if'twere  made 
.  •       f 


VI         HA/l*/  Vx     lltrlGW 

Comparative  for  your  virtues,"]    If  it  were  considered  as  a 
compensation  adequate  to  your  virtues,  to  be  styled,  &c. 


4  Were  they  all  made  such  men.- — HOIK  now,  Pisanio  ?]  Sir 
T.  Hanmer  regulates  this  line  thus : 

att  such  men. 

Clot.  How  now  ? 

Imo.  Pisanio!    JOHNSON. 

*  I  am  sprighted  toith  a  fool;~\  i.  e.  I  am  haunted  by  a  fool,  as 
by  a  spright.  Over-3prighted  is  a  word  that  occurs  in  Lato 
Tricks,  &c.  1608.  Again,  in  our  author's  Antony  and  Cleopatra : 

" Julius  Caesar, 

"  Who  at  Philippi  the  good  Brutus  ghosted"  STEEVENS. 

6 a  jewel,  that  too  casually 

Hath  left  mine  arm;~\     That  hath  accidentally  fallen  from 
my  arm  by  my  too  great  negligence.    MALONE. 

2  I  2 


484  CYMBELINE.  ACT  it. 

If  I  would  lose  it  for  a  revenue 
Of  any  king's  in  Europe.     I  do  think, 
I  saw't  this  morning :  confident  I  am, 
Last  night  'twas  on  mine  arm  ;  I  kiss'd  it  :7 
I  hope,  it  be  not  gone,  to  tell  my  lord 
That  I  kiss  aught  but  he. 

Pis.  'Twill  not  be  lost. 

IMO.  I  hope  so :  go,  and  search.        [Exit  Pis. 
CLO.  You  have  abus'd  me : — 

His  meanest  garment  ? 

IMO.  Ay ;  I  said  so,  sir. 

If  you  will  make't  an  action,  call  witness  to't.8 

CLO.  I  will  inform  your  father. 

IMO.  Your  mother  too : 

She's  my  good  lady  ;9  and  will  conceive,  I  hope, 
But  the  worst  of  me.     So  I  leave  you,  sir, 
To  the  worst  of  discontent.  [Exit. 

CLO.  I'll  be  reveng'd : — 

His  meanest  garment  ? — Well.  [Exit. 

"  Last  night  'twas  on  my  arm;  I  kiss'd  it:~]  Arm  is  here 
used  by  Shakspeare  as  a  dissyllable.  MA  LONE. 

I  must  on  this  occasion  repeat  my  protest  against  the  whole 
tribe  of  such  unauthorized  and  unpronounceable  dissyllabifi- 
cations.  I  would  read  the  now  imperfect  line  before  us,  as  I 
suppose  it  came  from  our  author : 

Last  night  \t  ivas  upon  mine  arm;  I  kiss'd  it. 

STEEVENS. 

9 call  witness  to't.]  I  cannot  help  regarding  the  re- 
dundant— to't,  as  an  interpolation.  The  sense  is  obvious  and 
the  metre  perfect  without  it.  STEEVENS. 

9  She's  my  good  lady;]  This  is  said  ironically.  My  good  lady 
is  equivalent  to — my  good  friend.  So,  in  King  Henry  I F.  P.  II : 

" and  when  you  come  to  court,  stand  my  good  lord,  pray, 

in  your  good  report."     MALONE. 


ac.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  48,5 

SCENE  IV. 

Rome.     An  Apartment  in  Philario's  House. 

Enter  POSTHUMUS  and  PHILABIO. 

POST.  Fear  it  not,  sir  :  I  would,  I  were  so  sure 
To  win  the  king,  as  I  am  bold,  her  honour 
Will  remain  hers. 

PHI.  What  means  do  you  make  to  him  ? 

POST.  Not  any  ;  but  abide  the  change  of  time ; 
Quake  in  the  present  winter's  state,  and  wish 
That  warmer  days  would  come : l     In  these  fear'd 

hopes, 

I  barely  gratify  your  love ;  they  failing, 
I  must  die  much  your  debtor. 

PHI.  Your  very  goodness,  and  your  company, 
O'erpays  all  I  can  do.     By  this,  your  king 
Hath  heard  of  great  Augustus :  Caius  Lucius 
Will  do  his  commission  throughly :  And,  I  think, 
He'll  grant  the  tribute,2  send  the  arrearages, 
Or  look3  upon  our  Romans,  whose  remembrance 

1  Quake  in  the  present  winter's  state,  and  wish 

That  'warmer  days  would  come:~\     I  believe  we  should  read 
winter-state,  not  winter's  state.     M.  MASON. 

2  He'll  grant  the  tribute,']     See  p.  407,  n.  7.     MALONE. 

3  Or  look — ]     This  the  modern  editors  had  changed  into  E'er 
look.     Or  is  used  for  e'er.     So,  Gawin  Douglas,  in  his  transla- 
tion of  Virgil; 

"      suflferit  he  also, 

"  Or  he  his  goddes  brocht  in  Latio." 
gee  also  Vol.  IV.  p.  11,  n.  8 ;  and  Vol.  X.  p.  487,  n.  7. 

STEEVENS. 


486  CYMBELINE.  ACT  u. 

Is  yet  fresh  in  their  grief. 

POST.  I  do  believe, 

(Statist*  though  I  am  none,  nor  like  to  be,) 
That  this  will  prove  a  war ;  and  yon  shall  hear 
The  legions,5  now  in  Gallia,  sooner  landed 
In  our  not-fearing  Britain,  than  have  tidings 
Of  any  penny  tribute  paid.     Our  countrymen 
Are  men  more  order'd,  than  when  Julius  Caesar 
Smil'd  at  their  lack  of  skill,  but  found  their  courage 
Worthy  his  frowning  at :  Their  Discipline 
(Now  m.ingled  with  their  courages)6  will  make 

known 

To  their  approvers,7  they  are  people,  such 
That  mend  upon  the  world. 


*  Statist — ]     i.  e.  Statesman.     See  note  on  Pfamlet,  Act  V. 
sc.  ii.     STEEVENS. 

*  Tie  legions,]  Old  copy — legion.     Corrected  by  Mr.  Theo- 
bald.    So,  afterwards : 

**  And  that  the  legions  now  in  Gallia  are 

"  Full  weak  to  undertake  our  war,"  &c.     MALONE. 

6 mingled  "with  their  courages — ]     The  old  folio  has  this 

odd  reading : 

Their  discipline 

(Now  wing-led  with  their  courages)  will  make  inotun- — . 

JOHNSOM. 

Their  discipline  (now  wing-led  by  their  courages)  may  mean 
their  discipline1  borrowing  wings  from  their  courage;  i.  e.  their 
military  knowledge  being  animated  by  their  natural  bravery. 

STEEVENS. 

The  same  error  that  has  happened  here  being  often  found  in 
these  plays,  I  have  not  hesitated  to  adopt  the  emendation  which 
was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe,  and  received  by  all  the  subsequent 
editors.  Thus  we  have  in  the  last  Act  of  King  John,  id  ad, 
instead  of  mind;  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  winds,  instead  of 
minds;  in  Measure  for  Measure,  Jlawes,  instead  ofjiawes,  &c. 
Sec  Vol.  XVII.  p.  S3,  n.  ?.  MALONE. 

7  To  their  approvers,J     i.  e.  To  those  who  try  them. 

WAHBURTON. 


sc.  ir.  CYMBELINE,  487 

Enter  IACHIMCK 
' 
PHI.  See!  lachimo? 

POST.  The  swiftest  harts  have  posted  you  by  land  j 
And  winds  of  all  the  corners  kiss'd  your  sails, 
To  make  your  vessel  nimble.8 

PHI.  Welcome,  sir. 

POST.  I  hope,  the  briefness  of  your  answer  made 
The  speediness  of  your  return. 

IACH.  Your  ladj- 

Is  one  the  fairest  that  I  have  look'd  upon.9 

POST.  And,  therewithal,  the  best;    or  let  her 

beauty 

Look  through  a  casement  to  allure  false  hearts,1 
And  be  false  with  them. 

IACH.  Here  are  letters  for  you. 

POST.  Their  tenour  good,  I  trust. 

IACH.  'Tis  very  like. 

5  The  swiftest  harts  have  posted  you  by  land  ; 
And  "winds  of  all  the  corners  kiss'd  your  sails, 
To  make  your  vessel  nimble.']     From  this  remark  our  author 
appears  to  have  been  conscious  of  his  glaring  offence  against  one 
of  the  unities,  in  the  precipitate  return  of  lachimo  from  the 
court  of  Cymbeline.     STEEVENS. 

9  Is  one  the  fairest  &c.]     So,  p.  460: 

" And  he  is  one 

"  The  truest  manner 'd — .'* 

The  interpolated  old  copy,  however,  reads,  to  the  injury  of  the 
metre : 

Is  one  of  the  fairest,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

1 or  let  her  beauty 

Look  through  a  casement  to  allure  false  hearts,"]     So,  in 
Timon  of  Athens: 

"  Let  not  those  milk  paps, 

*«  That  through  the  window  bars  bore  at  men's  eyes, 

"  Make  soft  thy  trenchant  sword."    MALONE. 


488  CYMBELINE.  ACT  IT. 

PHI.  Was  Caius  Lucius2  in  the  Britain  court, 
When  you  were  there  ? 

IACH.  He  was  expected  then, 

But  not  approach'd.3 

POST.  All  is  well  yet. — 

Sparkles  this  stone  as  it  was  wont  ?  or  is't  not 
Too  dull  for  your  good  wearing  ? 

IACH.  If  I  have  lost  it, 

I  should  have  lost  the  worth  of  it  in  gold. 
I'll  make  a  journey  twice  as  far,  to  enjoy 
A  second  night  of  such  sweet  shortness,  which 
Was  mine  in  Britain  ;  for  the  ring  is  won. 

POST.  The  stone's  too  hard  to  come  by. 

IACH.  Not  a  whit, 

Your  lady  being  so  easy. 

POST.  Make  not,  sir, 

Your  loss  your  sport :  I  hope,  you  know  that  we 
Must  not  continue  friends, 

IACH.  Good  sir,  we  must, 

If  you  keep  covenant :  Had  I  not  brought 
The  knowledge4  of  your  mistress  home,  I  grant 
We  were  to  question  further  :  but  I  now 
Profess  myself  the  winner  of  her  honour, 
Together  with  your  ring  j  and  not  the  wronger 


*  Phi.  Was  Caius  Lucius  &c.]  This  speech  in  the  old  copy 
is  given  to  Posthumus.  I  have  transferred  it  to  Philario,  to 
whom  it  certainly  belongs,  on  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Steevens, 
who  justly  observes  that  "  Posthumus  was  employed  in  reading 
his  letters."  MALONE. 

3  But  not  approach'd.~]  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  supplies  the  ap- 
parent defect  in  this  line  by  reading : 

Hut  was  not  yet  approach'd.     STEEVENS. 

4 knowledge — ]     This  word  is  here  used  in  its  scriptural 

acceptation  :  "  And  Ada.ra  knew  Eve  his  wife : — ."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  489 

Of  her,  or  you,  having  proceeded  but 
By  both  your  wills. 

POST.  If  you  can  make't  apparent 

That  you  have  tasted  her  in  bed,  my  hand, 
And  ring,  is  yours  :  If  not,  the  foul  opinion 
You  had  of  her  pure  honour,  gains,  or  loses, 
Your  sword,  or  mine  ;  or  masterless  leaves  both 
To  who  shall  find  them. 

IACH.  Sir,  my  circumstances, 

Being  so  near  the  truth,  as  I  will  make  them, 
Must  first  induce  you  to  believe  :  whose  strength 
I  will  confirm  with  oath  ;  which,  I  doubt  not, 
You'll  give  me  leave  to  spare,  when  you  shall  find 
You  need  it  not. 

POST.  Proceed. 

IACH.  First,  her  bed-chamber, 

(Where,  I  confess,  I  slept  not ;  but  profess, 
Had  that  was  well  worth  watching,5)  It  was  hang'd 
With  tapestry  of  silk  and  silver ;  the  story 
Proud  Cleopatra,  when  she  met  her  Roman, 
And  Cydnus  swelPd  above  the  banks,  or  for 
The  press  of  boats,  or  pride  :6  A  piece  of  work 
So  bravely  done,  so  rich,  that  it  did  strive 
In  workmanship,  and  value;  which,  I  wonder'd, 
Could  be  so  rarely  and  exactly  wrought, 

5  Had  that  'was  'well  worth  'watching,']     i,  e.  that  which  was 
well  worth  watching,  or  lying  awake  for.     See  p.  479,  n.  3. 

MALONE. 

6  And  Cydnus  stvell'd  above  the  banks,  or  for 

The  press  of  boats,  or  pride:"]  lachimo's  language  is  such 
as  a  skilful  villain  would  naturally  use,  a  mixture  of  airy  triumph 
and  serious  deposition.  His  gaiety  shows  his  seriousness  to  be 
without  anxiety,  and  his  seriousness  proves  his  gaiety  to  be  with- 
out art.  JOHNSON. 


490  CYMBELINE.  ACTII. 

Since  the  true  life  on't  was    .    .  7 

POST.  This  is  true;* 

And  this  you  might  have  heard  of  here,  by  me, 
Or  by  some  other. 

lACff.  More  particulars 

Must  justify  my  knowledge. 

POST.  So  they  must, 

Or  do  your  honour  injury. 

IACH.  The  chimney 

Is  south  the  chamber  ;  and  the  chimney-piece, 
Chaste  Dian,  bathing :  never  saw  1  figures 
So  likely  to  report  themselves:9  the  cutter 
Was  as  another  nature,  dumb ; 1  outwent  her, 
Motion  and  breath  left  out. 

POST.  This  is  a  thing, 

Which  you  might  from  relation  likewise  reap ; 
Being,  as  it  is,  much  spoke  of. 


•which,  Iwonder'd, 


Could  be  so  rarely  and  exactly  wrought, 
Since  the  true  life  on't  11-05 — ]     This  passage  is  nonsense  as 
it  stands,  and  therefore  the  editors  have  supposed  it  to  be  an  im- 
perfect sentence.    But  I  believe  we  should  amend  it  by  reading-^- 

Such  the  true  life  on't  teas, 

instead  of  since.    We  frequently  say  the  life  of  a  picture,  or  of 
a  statue ;  and  without  alteration  the  sentence  is  not  complete. 

M.  MASON. 

8  This  is  true;']     The  present  deficiency  in  the  metre,  shows 
that  some  word  has  been  accidentally  omitted  in  this  or  in  the 
preceding  hemistich.     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads : 

"Why  this  is  true.     STEEVENS. 

9  So  likely  to  report  themselves  :~\   So  near  to  speech.     The 
Italians  call  a  portrait,  when  the  likeness  is  remarkable,  a  speak- 
ing  picture.     JOHNSON. 

1  Was  as  another  nature,  dumb  ;3  The  meaning  is  this :  The 
sculptor  was  as  nature,  but  as  nature  dumb;  he  gave  every  thing 
that  nature  gives,  but  breath  and  motion.  In  breath  is  included 
speech.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  ir.  CYMBELINE,  491 

IACH.  The  roof  o'the  chamber 

With  golden  cherubins  is  fretted:2  Her  andirons 
(I  had  forgot  them,)  were  two  winking  Cupids 
Of  silver,  each  on  one  foot  standing,  nicely 
Depending  on  their  brands.3 


2  With  golden  cherubins  is  fretted:]  The  same  tawdry  image 
occurs  again  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

** their  dwarfish  pages  were 

"  As  cherubins,  all  gilt" 

The  sole  recommendation  of  this  Gothick  idea,  which  is  triti- 
cally  repeated  by  modern  artists,  seems  to  be,  that  it  occupies 
but  little  room  on  canvas  or  marble;  for  chubby  unmeaning 
faces,  with  ducks'  wings  tucked  under  them,  are  all  the  circum- 
stances that  enter  into  the  composition  of  such  infantine  and  ab- 
surd representatives  of  the  choirs  of  heaven.  STEEVENS. 

fretted:"]    So  again,  in  Hamlet;    "  —  this  majestical 

roof,  fretted  with  golden  fire — ."     So,  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen, 
B.  II.  ch.  ix: 

"  In  a  long  purple  pall,  whose  skirt  with  gold 

"  Was  fretted  all  about,  she  was  array'd."     MALONE. 

3 nicely 

Depending  on  their  brands.]  I  am  not  sure  that  I  understand 
this  passage.  Perhaps  Shakspeare  meant  that  the  figures  of  the 
Cupids  were  nicely  poized  on  their  inverted  torches,  one  of  the  legs 
of  each  being  taken  off  the  ground,  which  might  render  such  a 
support  necessary.  STEEVENS. 

I  have  equal  difficulty  with  Mr.  Steevens  in  explaining  this 
passage.  Here  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  tautology.  I  take  brands 
to  be  a  part  of  the  andirons,  on  which  the  wood  for  the  fire  was 
supported,  as  the  upper  part,  in  which  was  a  kind  of  rack  to 
carry  a  spit,  is  more  properly  termed  the  andiron.  These  irons, 
on  which  the  wood  lies  across,  generally  called  dogs,  are  here 
termed  brands.  WHALLEY. 

It  should  seem  from  a  passage  in  The  Black  Book,  a  pamphlet 
published  in  1604-,  that  andirons  in  our  author's  time  were  some- 
times formed  in  the  shape  of  human  figures :  "  — ever  and  anon 
turning  about  to  the  chimney,  where  he  sawea  paire  of  corpulent 
gigantick  andirons,  that  stood  like  two  burgomasters  at  both 
corners."  Instead  of  these  corpulent  burgomasters,  Imogen  had 
Cupids. 


492  CYMBELINE.  ACT  u. 

POST.  This  is  her  honour ! — 

Let  it  be  granted,4  you  have  seen  all  this,5  (and 

praise 

Be  given  to  your  remembrance,)  the  description 
Of  what  is  in  her  chamber,  nothing  saves 
The  wager  you  have  laid. 

IACH.  Then,  if  you  can, 

\_Pulling  out  the  Bracelet. 

Be  pale;6  I  beg  but  leave  to  air  this  jewel :  See! — 
And  now  'tis  up  again :  It  must  be  married 
To  that  your  diamond;  I'll  keep  them. 

POST.  Jove ! — 

Once  more  let  me  behold  it :  Is  it  that 
Which  I  left  with  her  ? 

IACH.  Sir,  (I  thank  her,)  that : 

She  stripp'd  it  from  her  arm ;  I  see  her  yet; 
Her  pretty  action  did  outsell  her  gift, 
And  yet  enrich'd  it  too : 7  She  gave  it  me,  and  said, 
She  priz'd  it  once. 


The  author  of  the  pamphlet  might,  however,  only  have  meant 
that  the  andirons  he  describes  were  uncommonly  large. 

M  ALONE. 

4  Let  it  be  granted,  &c.]     Surely,  for  the  sake  of  metre,  we 
should  read,  with  some  former  editor : 
Be  it  granted.     STEEVENS. 

4  This  is  her  honour  ! 

Let  it  be  granted,  you  have  seen  all  this,  &c.]  The  expression 
is  ironical,  lachimo  relates  many  particulars,  to  which  Post- 
humus  answers  with  impatience : 

"  This  is  her  honour  !" 

That  is,  And  the  attainment  of  this  knowledge  is  to  pass  for  the 
corruption  of  her  honour.     JOHNSON. 

8 ff  you  can, 

Be  pate  ;  ]  If  you  can,  forbear  to  flush  your  cheek  with  rage. 

JOHNSON. 

7  And  yet  enrich*  d  it  too:]  The  adverb — too,  which  hurts  the 
metre,  might  safely  be  omitted,  the  expression  being  sufficiently 
forcible  without  it.  STEEVENS. 


sc.iv.  CYMBELINE.  493 

POST.  May  be,  she  pluck* d  it  off, 

To  send  it  me. 

IACH.  She  writes  so  to  you  ?  doth  she  ? 

POST.  O,  no,  no,  no ;  'tis  true.    Here,  take  this 
too  ;  [Gives  the  Ring. 

It  is  a  basilisk  unto  mine  eye, 
Kills  me  to  look  on't : — Let  there  be  no  honour, 
Where  there  is  beauty ;  truth,  where  semblance  ; 

love, 

Where  there's  another  man  :  The  vows  of  women8 
Of  no  more  bondage  be,  to  where  they  are  made, 
Than  they  are  to  their  virtues ;  which  is  nothing : — 
O,  above  measure  false  ! 

PHI.  Have  patience,  sir, 

And  take  your  ring  again ;  'tis  not  yet  won  : 
It  may  be  probable,  she  lost  it ;  or, 
Who  knows  if  one  of  her  women,9  being  corrupted, 
Hath  stolen  it  from  her.1 

POST.  Very  true ; 

And  so,  I  hope,  he  came  by't: — Back  my  ring  ;— 
Render  to  me  some  corporal  sign  about  her, 
More  evident  than  this  ;  for  this  was  stolen. 

IACH.  By  Jupiter,  I  had  it  from  her  arm. 

POST.  Hark  you,  he  swears;  by  Jupiter  he  swears. 
'Tis  true ; — nay,  keep  the  ring — 'tis  true :  I  am  sure, 


8 The  voias  of  women — ]     The  love  vowed  by  women  no 

more  abides  with  him  to  whom  it  is  vowed,  than  women  adhere 
to  their  virtue.     JOHNSON. 

9 if  one  of  her  ivomen,~]   Of  was  supplied  by  the  editor  of 

the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

1  Hath  stolen  it  from  her.']     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  (for  some 
words  are  here  deficient)  has  perfected  the  metre  by  reading: 
Might  not  have  stolen  it  from  her.     STEEVENS. 


494  CYMBELINE.  ACT  n. 

She  would  not  lose  it:  her  attendants  are 

All   sworn,  and  honourable:2 — They  induc'd  to 

steal  it ! 

And  by  a  stranger  ? — No,  he  hath  enjoy'd  her : 
The  cognizance3  of  her  incontinency 
Is  this, — she  hath  bought  the  name  of  whore  thus 

dearly. — 

There,  take  thy  hire ;  and  all  the  fiends  of  hell 
Divide  themselves  between  you  ! 

PHI.  Sir,  be  patient : 

This  is  not  strong  enough  to  be  believ'd 
Of  one  persuaded  well  of- 

POST.  Never  talk  on't  j 

She  hath  been  colted  by  him. 

IACH.  If  you  seek 

For  further  satisfying,  under  her  breast 

* her  attendants  are 

All  sworn,  and  honourable:"}  It  was  anciently  the  custom 
for  the  attendants  on  our  nobility  and  other  great  personages 
(as  it  is  now  for  the  servants  of  the  king)  to  take  an  oath  of 
fidelity,  on  their  entrance  into  office.  In  the  household  booki 
of  the  5th  Earl  of  Northumberland  (compiled  A.  D.  1512)  it  is 
expressly  ordered  [p.  49]  that  "  what  person  soever  he  be  that 
commyth  to  my  Lordes  service,  that  incontinent  after  he  be  in- 
tred  in  the  chequyrroull  [check-roil]  that  he  be  sworn  in  the 
countynge-hous  by  a  gentillman-usher  or  yeman-usher  in  the 
presence  of  the  hede  ofroers ;  and  on  theire  absence  before  the 
clerke  of  the  kechynge  either  by  such  an  oath  as  is  in  the  Boot 
ofOthes,  yff  any  such  [oath]  be,  or  ells  by  such  an  oth  as  thei 
shall  seyme  beste  by  their  discretion." 

Even  now  every 'se rvant  of  the  king's,  at  his  first  appointment, 
is  sworn  in,  beibre  a  gentleman  usher,  at  the  lord  chamberlain's 
office.  PERCY. 

3  The  cognizance — ]  The  badge;  the  token;  the  visible  proof. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  ^enry  VI.  P.  I: 

'*  As  cognizance  of  my  blood-drinking  hate." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  ir.  CYMBELINE.  495 

(Worthy  the  pressing,)4  lies  a  mole,  right  proud 
Of  that  most  delicate  lodging  :  By  my  life, 
I  kiss'd  it ;  and  it  gave  me  present  hunger 
To  feed  again,  though  full.     You  do  remember 
This  stain  upon  her  ? 

POST.  Ay,  and  it  doth  confirm 

Another  stain,  as  big  as  hell  can  hold, 
Were  there  no  more  but  it. 

IACH.  Will  you  hear  more  ? 

POST.  Spare  your  arithmetick  :  never  count  the 

turns ; 
Once,  and  a  million  ! 

IACH.  I'll  be  sworn, 

POST.  No  swearing. 

If  you  will  swear  you  have  not  done't,  you  lie ; 
And  I  will  kill  thee,  if  thou  dost  deny 
Thou  hast  made  me  cuckold. 

IACH.  I  will  deny  nothing. 

POST.  O,  that  I  had  her  here,  to  tear  her  limb- 
meal! 

I  will  go  there,  and  do't ;  i'the  court ;  ^before 
Her  father : — I'D  do  something [Exit. 

PHI.  Quite  besides 

The  government  of  patience ! — You  have  won : 
Let's  follow  him,  and  pervert  the  present  wrath5 

4  ( Worthy  the  pressing, )  ]  Thus  the  modern  editions.  The 
old  folio  reads : 

(  Worthy  her  pressing,) .     JOHNSON. 

The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Howe.  The  compositor  was 
probably  thinking  of  the  word  her  in  the  preceding  line,  which 
he  had  just  composed.  M ALONE. 

* pervert  the  present  wrath — ]  i.  e.  turn  his  wrath  to 

another  course.  MA  LONE. 

To  pervert,  I  believe,  only  signifies  to  avert  his  wrath  from 


496  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

He  hath  against  himself. 

IACH.  With  all  my  heart. 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  V. 

The  same.     Another  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  POSTHUMUS. 

POST.  Is  there  no  way  for  men  to  be,  but  women 
Must  be  half- workers  ?6  We  are  bastards  all; 7 
And  that  most  venerable  man,  which  I 
Did  call  my  father,  was  I  know  not  where 
When  I  was  stamp'd;  some  coiner  with  his  tools 


himself,  without  any  idea  of  turning  it  against  another  person. 
To  what  other  course  it  could  have  been  diverted  by  the  advice 
of  Philario  and  lachimo,  Mr.  Malone  has  not  informed  us. 

STEEVENS. 

6  Is  there  nq  way  &c.]  Milton  was  very  probably  indebted  to 
this  speech  for  one  of  the  sentiments  which  he  has  imparted  to 
Adam,  Paradise  Lost,  Book  X: 

" O,  why  did  God, 

"  Creator  wise,  that  peopled  highest  heaven 

"  With  spirits  masculine,  create  at  last 

**  This  novelty  on  earth,  this  fair  defect 

*'  Of  nature,  and  not  fill  the  world  at  once 

"  With  men,  as  angels,  without  feminine, 

"  Orjind  some  other  way  to  generate 

"  Mankind?" 

See  also,  Rhodomont's  invective  against  women,  in  the  Orlando 
Furioso;  and  above  all,  a  speech  which  Euripides  has  put  into 
the  mouth  of  Hippolytus,  in  the  tragedy  that  bears  his  name. 

STEEVENS. 

7 We  arc  bastards  all ;  ]  Old  copies —  We  are  all  bastards. 

The  necessary  transposition  of  the  word — all,  was  Mr.  Pope's. 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  497 

Made  me  a  counterfeit:8  Yet  my  mother  seem'd 
The  Dian  of  that  time :  so  doth  my  wife 
The  nonpareil  of  this. — O  vengeance,  vengeance ! 
Me  of  my  lawful  pleasure  she  restrained, 
And  pray'd  me,  oft,  forbearance  :  did  it  with 
A  pudency  so  rosy,  the  sweet  view  on't 
Might  well   have  warm'd   old   Saturn  j9   that   I 
thought  her 


8 teas  I  know  not  where 

When  I  was  stamp'd ;  some  coiner  with  his  tools 
Made  me  a  counterfeit :"]  We  have  again  the  same  image  in 
Measure  for  Measure  .• 

" It  were  as  good 

"  To  pardon  him,  that  hath  from  nature  stolen 
**  A  man  already  made,  as  to  remit 
"  Their  saucy  sweetness,  that  do  coin  heaven's  image 
"  In  stamps  that  are  forbid."     MALONE. 

This  image  is  by  no  means  uncommon.  It  particularly  occurs 
in  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  Part  III.  sect.  3 :  "  Seve- 
rus  the  Emperor  in  his  time  made  lawes  for  the  restraint  of  this 
vice ;  and  as  Dion  Cassius  relates  in  his  life,  tria  millia  moecho- 
rum,  three-thousand  cuckold-makers,  or  natures  monetam  adul- 
terantes,  as  Philo  calls  them,  false  coiners  and  clippers  of 
nature's  mony,  were  summoned  into  the  court  at  once." 

STEEVENS. 

9  Me  of  my  laiyful  pleasure  she  restrained, 

And  pray' 'd  me,  oft,  forbearance:  did  it  with 

A  pudency  so  rosy,  the  sweet  view  on't 

Might  well  have  warm'd  old  Saturn;]  It  certainly  carries 
with  it  a  very  elegant  sense,  to  suppose  the  lady's  denial  was  so 
modest  and  delicate  as  even  to  inflame  his  desires  :  But  may  we 
not  read  it  thus  ? 

And  pray' d  me  oft  forbearance:  Did  it  &c. 
i.  e.  complied  with  his  desires  in  the  sweetest  reserve ;  taking  did 
in  the  acceptation  in  which  it  is  used  by  Jonson  and  Shakspeare 
in  many  other  places.     WHALLEY. 

See  Vol.  VI.  p.  203,  n.  5. — The  more  obvious  interpretation 
is  in  my  opinion  the  true  one. 

Admitting  Mr.  Whalley's  notion  to  be  just,  the  latter  part  of 
this  passage  may  be  compared  with  one  in  Juvenal,  Sat.  IV. 
though  the  pudency  will  be  found  wanting : 

VOL.  XVIII,  2  K 


498  CYMBELINE.  ACT  jr. 

As  chaste  as  unsunn'd  snow : — O,  all  the  devils  ! — 
This  yellow  lachimo,  in  an  hour, — was'tnot? — 
Or  less, — at  first :  Perchance  he  spoke  not ;  but, 
Like  a  full-aconi'd  boar,  a  German  one,1 
Cry'd,  oh!  and  mounted:'2  found  no  opposition 
But  what  he  look'd  for  should  oppose,  and  she 
Should  from  encounter  guard. ;     Could  I  find  out 

« omnia  fient 

"  Ad  verum,  quibus  incendi  jam  frigidus  aevo 
"  Laomedontiades,  et  Nestoris  liernia  possit." 

MA  LONE. 

1 a  German  one,]     Here,  as  in  many  other  places,  we 

have — on  in  the  old  copy,  instead  of — one.     See  Vol.  X.  p.  443, 
n.  6. 

In  King  Henry  IV.  P.  II.  *Falstaff  assures  Mrs.  Quickly,  that 
— "  the  German  hunting  in  water-work  is  worth  a  thousand  of 
these  bed-hangings."  In  other  places,  where  our  author  has 
spoken  of  the  hunting  of  the  boar,  a  Go-man  one  must  have 
been  in  his  thoughts,  for  the  boar  was  never,  I  apprehend, 
hunted  in  England. 

Mr.  Pope  and  Dr.  Warburton  read — a  churning  on;  and, 
what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  this  strange  sophistication  has 
found  its  way  into  Dr.  Johnson's  most  valuable  Dictionary. 

MA  LONE. 

* and  mounted:  ]     Let  Homer,  on  this  occasion,  keep 

bur  author  in  countenance : 

"  'Apveiov,  raoeoVrs,  crvwv  r  Irti&ptoa,  xaireov." 

Odyss.  XXIII.  278. 
Thus  translated  by  Chapman : 

"  A  lambe,  a  bull,  and  soto-ascending  bore." 

STEEVENS. 

-found  no  opposition 


But  what  he  look'd for  should  oppose,  and  she 
Should  from  encounter  guard."]     Sir  T.  Hanmer  and  Dr. 
Warburton  read : 

. found  no  opposition 

From  ivhat  he  look'd  for  should  oppose,  &c. 
This  alteration  probably  escaped  the  observation  of  the  late 
Mr.  Edwards,  or  it  would  have  afforded  occasion  for  some  plea- 
sant commentary.     T.  C. 

Thomas  Harvey  in  his  Epistle  to  Sir  T.  H.  and  Thomas  Potter, 
in  his  Epigram  on  Dr.  W.  sufficiently  demonstrate  how  little  these 


#7,  r.  CYMBELINE,  499 

The  woman's  part  in  me  !  For  there's  no  motion 

That  tends  to  vice  in  man,  but  I  affirm 

It  is  the  woman's  part  :  Be  it  lying,  note  it, 

The  woman's  ;  flattering,  hers  ;  deceiving,  hers  ; 

Ambitions,  covetings,  change  of  prides,  disdain, 

Nice  longings,  slanders,  mutability, 

All  faults  that  may  be  nam'd,4  nay,   that  hell 

knows, 

Why,  hers,  in  part,  or  all  j  but,  rather,  all  : 
For  ev'n  to  vice 

They  are  not  constant,  but  are  changing  still 
One  vice,  but  of  a  minute  old,  for  one 
Not  half  so  old  as  that.     I'll  write  against  them, 
Detest  them,  curse  them  :—  Yet  'tis  greater  skill 
In  a  true  hate,  to  pray  they  have  their  will  : 
TJie  very  devils  cannot  plague  them  better.5 


criticks  were  at-home,  when  they  presumed  on  any  circumstance 
touching  the  premises  which  our  author  hath,  in  this  place,  some- 
what obscurely  figured.  AMNER. 

4  -  that  may  be  nam'd,]  Thus  the  second  folio.  The  first, 
with  its  usual  disposition  to  blundering  : 

All  faults  that  name. 

I  have  met  with  no  instance  in  the  English  language,  even  tend- 
ing to  prove  that  the  verb  —  to  name,  ever  signified  —  to  have  a 
name.  STEEVENS. 

5  -  to  pray  they  have  their  tvill: 

The  very  devils  cannot  plague  them  better.^  So,  in  Sir 
Thomas  More's  Comfort  against  Tribulation  .•  "  God  could  not 
lightly  do  a  man  more  vengeance,  than  in  this  world  to  grant 
him  his  own  foolish  wishes."  STEEVENS. 


2  K  2 


500  CYMBELINE:  Act  nr. 

ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 

Britain.     A  Room  of  State  in  Cymbeline's  Palace. 

Enter  CYMBELINE,  Queen,  CLOTEN,  and  Lords, 
at  one  Door ;  and  at  anotfier,  CAIUS  Lucius, 
and  Attendants. 

CYM.   Now  say,   what  would  Augustus  Caesar 
with  us  ?6 

Luc.  When  Julius  Caesar  (whose  remembrance 

yet 

Lives  in  men's  eyes ;  and  wiH  to  ears,  and  tongues, 
Be  theme,  and  hearing  ever,)  was  in  this  Britain, 
And  conquer'd  it,  Cassibelan,  thine  uncle,7 
.(Famous  in  Caesar's  praises,  no  whit  less 
Than  in  his  feats  deserving  it,)  for  him, 
And  his  succession,  granted  Rome  a  tribute, 
Yearly  three  thousand  pounds;  which  by  thee  lately 
Is  left  untender'd. 

QUEEN.  And,  to  kill  the  marvel, 

Shall  be  so  ever. 

CLO.  There  be  many  Caesars, 

Ere  such  another  Julius.     Britain  is 
A  world  by  itself;  and  we  will  nothing  pay, 
For  wearing  our  own  noses. 

6  Now  say,  "what  would  Augustus  Ccesar  ivith  us?"]     So,  in 
King  John  ; 

"  Now  say,  Chatillon,  what  would  France  with  us?" 

STEEVENS. 

7 thine  uncle, ,]     Cassibelan  was  great  uncle  to  Cymbe- 

line,  who  was  son  to  Tenantius,  the  nephew  of  Cassibelan.     See 
p.  407y  n.  7.    MALONE. 


sc.  i.  CYMBELINE.  501 

QUEEN.  That  opportunity, 

Which  then  they  had  to  take  from  us,  to  resume 
We  have  again. — Remember,  sir,  my  liege, 
The  kings  your  ancestors ;  together  with 
The  natural  bravery  of  your  isle ;  which  stands 
As  Neptune's  park,  ribbed  and  paled  in 
With  rocks  unscaleable,8  and  roaring  waters ; 
With  sands,  that  will  not  bear  your  enemies'  boats, 
But  suck  them  up  to  the  top-mast.     A  kind  of 

conquest 

Caesar  made  here ;  but  made  not  here  his  brag 
Of,  came,  and  saw,  and  overcame :  with  shame 
(The  first  that  ever  touch'd  him,)  he  was  carried 
From  off  our  coast,  twice  beaten;  and  his  shipping, 
(Poor  ignorant  baubles!9)  on  our  terrible  seas, 
Like  egg-shells  mov'd  upon  their  surges,  crack'd 
As  easily  'gainst  our  rocks :  For  joy  whereof, 
The  fam'd  Cassibelan,  who  was  once  at  point 
(O,  giglot  fortune  !J)  to  master  Caesar's  sword,2 


8  With  rocks  unscaleable,']    This  reading  is  Sir  T.  Hanmer's. 
The  old  editions  have : 

With  oaks  unscaleable.     JOHNSON. 

"  The  strength  of  our  land  consists  of  our  seamen  in  their 
wooden  forts  and  castles ;  our  rocks,  shelves,  and  sirtes,  that 
lye  .along  our  coasts ;  and  our  trayned  bands."  From  chapter 
109  of  Bariffe's  Military  Discipline,  1639,  seemingly  trora 
Tooke's  Legend  of  Britomart.  TOJLLET. 

9  (  Poor  ignorant  baubles /)]    Unacquainted  with  the  nature  of 
our  boisterous  seas.     JOHNSON. 

.  a  (0,  giglot  fortune!  ]  O  false  and  inconstant  fortune!  A 
giglot  was  a  strumpet.  See  Vol.  VI.  p.  404,  n.  7;  and  Vol. 
XIII.  p.  143,  n.  9.  So,  in  Hamlet: 

"  Out,  out,  thou  strumpet fortune /"     MALONE, 

2  The  fam'd  Cassibelan,  ivho  was  once  at  point 

to  master  Ccesar's  sivord,']  Shakspeare  has  here  trans- 
ferred to  Cassibelan  an  adventure  which  happened  to  his  brother 
$erinius.  "  The  same  historic  (says  Holinshed)  also  niaketh 


CYMBELINE.  ACT  ///. 

Made  Lild's  town  with  rejoicing  fires  bright, 
And  Britons  strut  with  courage. 

CLO.  Come  there's  no  more  tribute  to  be  paid : 
Our  kingdom  is  stronger  than  it  was  at  that  time  ; 
and,  as  1  said,  there  is  no  more  such  Caesars :  othe'r 
of  them  may  have  crooked  noses ;  but,  to  owe  such 
straight  arms,  notie. 

CYM.  Son,  let  your  mother  end. 

CLO.  We  have  yet  many  among  us  can  gripe  as 
hard  as  Cassibelan  :  I  do  not  say,  I  am  one  5  but  I 
have  a  hand. — Why  tribute  ?  why  should  we  pay 
tribute  ?  If  Caesar  can  hide  the  sun  from  us  with  a 
blanket,  or  put  the  moon  in  his  pocket,  we  will 
pay  him  tribute  for  light  3  elsej  sir,  no  more  tribute, 
pray  you  now. 

CYM.  You  must  kno'w, 
Till  the  injurious  Romans  did  extort 
This  tribute  from  us,3  we  were  free :  Caesar's  am. 

bition, 

(Which  swell'd  so  much,  that  it  did  almost  stretch 
The  sides  o'the  world,)  against  all  colour,4  here 

mention  of  Nennius,  brother  to  Cassibellane,  who  in  fight  hap- 
pened to  get  Caesar's  sword  fastened  in  his  shield  by  a  blow 
which  Caesar  stroke  at  him. — But  Nennius  died  within  15  dayes 
lifter  the  batt'el,  of  the  hurt  received  at  Cesar's  hand,  although 
after  he'was  hurt  he  slew  Labienus  one  of  the  Roman  tribunes." 
Book  III.  ch.  xiii.  Nennius,  we  are  told  by  Geffrey  of  Mon- 
raouth,  was  buried  with  great  funeral  pomp,  and  Caesar's  sword 
placed  in  his  tomb.  MALONE. 

3  This  tribute  from  us,]  The  unnecessary  words— -froih  us, 
only  derange  the  metre,  and  are  certainly  an  interpolation. 

STEEVENS. 

4 against  all  colour,]    Without  any  pretence  of  right. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I : 

"  For,  of  no  right,  nor  colour  like  to  right, — " 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  /.  CYMBELINE. 

Did  put  the  yoke  upon  us ;  which  to  shake  off, 
Becomes  a  warlike  people,  whom  we  reckon 
Ourselves  to  be.     We  do  say  then  to  Cagsar, 
Our  ancestor  was  that  Mulmutius,  which 
Ordain'd  our  laws ;  (whpse  use  the  sword  of  Caesar 
Hath  too  much  mangled ;  whose  repair,  and  fran- 
chise, 

Shall,  by  the  power  we  hold,  be  our  good  deed, 
Though  Rome  be  therefore  angry;)  Mulmutius,5 
Who  was  the  first  of  Britain,  which  did  put 
His  brows  within  a  golden  crpwn,  and  call'd 
Himself  a  king.6 


4  Mulmutius,']  Here  the  old  copy  (in  contempt  of  metre,  and 
regardless  of  the  preceding  words — 

« Mulmutius,  whicji 

"  Ordain'd  our  laws;") 
most  absurdly  adds  : 

made  our  laws, . 

I  have  not  scrupled  to  drop  these  words ;  nor  can  suppose  our 
readers  will  discover  that  the  omission  of  them  has  created  the 
smallest  chasm  in  our  author's  sense  or  measure.  The  length  of 
the  parenthetical  words  (which  were  not  then  considered  as  such, 
or  enclosed,  as  at  present,  in  a  parenthesis, )  was  the  source  of 
this  interpolation.  Read  the  passage  without  them,  and  the 
whole  is  clear :  Mulmutius,  which  ordained  our  laws ;  Mulinu- 
tius,  who  was  thejirst  of  Britain,  &c.  STEEVENS. 

6 Mulmutius, 

Who  was  thejirst  of  Britain,  which  did  put 

His  brows  within  a  golden  crown,  and  call'd 

Himself  a  king.'}  The  title  of  the  first  chapter  of  Holinshed's 
third  book  of  the  History  of  England  is—"  Of  Mulmucius,  the 
first  king  of  Britaine  who  was  crowned  with  a  golden  crown,  his 
lawes,  his  foundations,  &c. 

"  Mulmucius,- — the  sonne  of  Cloten,  got  the  upper  hand  of 
the  other  dukes  or  rulers  ;  and  after  his  father's  decease  began 
his  reigne  over  the  whole  monarchic  of  Britaine  in  the  yeare  of 
the  world — 3529. — He  made  manie  good  lawes,  which  were 
long  after  used,  called  Mulmucius  lawes,  turned  out  of  the 
British  speech  into  Latin  by  Gildas  Priscus,  and  long  time  after 
translated  out  of  Latin  into  English,  by  Alfred  king  of  England, 


504  CYMBELINE.  ACT  nt. 

Luc.  I  am  sorry,  Cymbeline, 

That  I  am  to  pronounce  Augustus  Caesar 
(Caesar,  that  Jiath  more  kings  his  servants,  than 
Thyself  domestick  officers,)  thine  enemy  : 
Receive  it  from  me,  then : — War,  and  confusion, 
In  Caesar's  name  pronounce  I  Against  thee:  look 
For  fury  not  to  be  resisted : — Thus  defied, 
I  thank  thee  for  myself. 

CYM.  Thou  art  welcome,  Caius. 

Thy  Caesar  knighted  me  ;  my  youth  I  spent 
Much  under  him  ;7  of  him  I  gather'd  honour  j 
Which  he,  to  seek  of  me  again,  perforce, 


and  mingled  in  his  statutes.  After  he  had  established  his  land,— 
he  ordeined  him,  by  the  advice  of  his  lords,  a  crowne  of  golde, 
and  caused  himself  with  great  solemnity  to  be  crowned  ; — and 
because  he  was  the  first  that  bare  a  crowne  here  in  Britaine,  after 
the  opinion  of  some  writers,  he  is  named  the  first  king  of  Britaine, 
and  all  the  other  before-rehearsed  are  named  rulers,  dukes,  or 
governours. 

"  Among  other  of  his  ordinances,  he  appointed  weights  and 
measures,  with  the  which  men  should  buy  and  sell.  And  further 
he  caused  sore  and  streight  orders  for  the  punishment  of  theft.'* 
Holinshed,  ubt  supra.  MALONE. 

7  Thou  art  welcome ,  Caius. 
Thy  CfBsar  knighted  me;  my  youth  I  spent 
Much  under  him;']   Some  few  hints  for  this  part  of  the  play 
are  taken  from  Holinshed: 

"  Kymbeline,  says  he,  (as  some  write,)  was  brought  up  at 
Rome,  and  there  was  made  knight  by  Augustus  Caesar,  under 
whom  he  served  in  the  wars,  and  was  in  such  favour  with  him, 
that  he  was  at  liberty  to  pay  his  tribute  or  not." 

" Yet  we  find  in  the  Roman  writers,  that  after  Julius 

Caesar's  death,  when  Augustus  had  taken  upon  him  the  rule  of 
the  empire,  the  Britons  refused  to  pay  that  tribute." 

" But  whether  the  controversy,  which  appeared  to  fall 

forth  betwixt  the  Britons  and  Augustus,  was  occasioned  by 
Kymbeline,  I  have  not  a  vouch." 

** Kymbeline  reigned  thirty-five  years,  leaving  behind 

him  two  sons,  Guiderius  and  Arviragus."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  i.  CYMBELINE.  505 

Behoves  me  keep  at  utterance ; 8  I  am  perfect,9 
That  the  Pannonians  and  Dalmatians,  for 
Their  liberties,  are  now  in  arms : l  a  precedent 
Which,  not  to  read,  would  show  the  Britons  cold: 
So  Caesar  shall  not  find  them. 

Luc.  Let  proof  speak. 

CLO.  His  majesty  bids  you  welcome.  Make 
pastime  with  us  a  day,  or  two,  longer :  If  you 
seek  us  afterwards  in  other  terms,  you  shall  find  us 
in  our  salt-water  girdle :  if  you  beat  us  out  of  it, 
it  is  yours  ;  if  you  fall  in  the  adventure,  our  crows 
shall  fare  the  better  for  you;  and  there's  an  end. 

8 keep  at  utterance ;]  means  to  keep  at  the  extremity  of 

defiance.  Combat  a  entrance  is  a  desperate  fight,  that  must  con- 
clude with  the  life  of  one  of  the  combatants.  So,  in  The  His- 
tory  of  Helyas  Knight  of  the  Sivanne,  bl.  1.  no  date:  "  —  Here 
is  my  gage  to  sustaine  it  to  the  utteraunce,  and  befight  it  to  the 
death."  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  Macbeth: 

"  Rather  than  so,  come,  fate,  into  the  list, 

"  And  champion  me  to  the  utterance." 
Again,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida; 

** will  you,  the  knights 

"  Shall  to  the  edge  of  all  the  extremity 

"  Pursue  each  other,"  &c. 
Again,  ibidem  : 

"  So  be  it,  either  to  the  uttermost, 

"  Or  else  a  breath." 
See  Vol.  X.  p.  151,  n.  8.     MALONE. 

9 I  am  perfect,]  I  am  well  informed.     So,  in  Macbeth  .• 

"  in  your  state  of  honour  /  am  perfect" 

JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  226,  n.  6.     STEEVENS. 

1 the  Pannonians  and  Dalmatians,  for 

Their  liberties,  are  now  in  arms  .-]  The  insurrection  of  the 
Pannonians  and  Dalmatians  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  off  the 
Roman  yoke,  happened  not  in  the  reign  of  Cymbeline,  but  in 
that  of  his  father,  Tenantius.  MALONE. 


506  CYMBELINK  ACTIII. 

Luc.  So,  sir. 

CYM.  I  know  your  master's  pleasure, and  he  mine: 
All  the  remain  is,  welcome.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  II. 

Another  Room  in  the  same. 
Enter  PISANIO. 

Pis.  How !  of  adultery  ?  Wherefore  write  you 

not 

What  monster's  her  accuser?1 — Leonatus! 
O,  master!  what  a  strange  infection 
Is  fallen  into  thy  ear  ?  What  false  Italian 
(As  poisonous  tongue'd,  as  handed,2) hath  prevail*  d 
On  thy  too  ready  hearing  ? — Disloyal  ?  No : 
She's  punish'd  for  her  truth ;  and  undergoes, 
More  goddess-like  than  wife-like,  such  assaults 
As  would  take  in  some  virtue.3 — O,  my  master ! 

1  What  monster's  'her  accuser?]  The  old  copy  has — What 
monsters  her  accuse1?  The  correction  was  suggested  by  Mr.  Stee- 
vens.  The  order  of  the  words,  as  well  as  the  single  person 
named  by  Pisanio,  fully  support  the  emendation.  What  mon- 
sters her  accuse,  for  What  monsters  accuse  her?  could  never  have 
been  written  by  Shakspeare  in  a  soliloquy  like  the  present.  Mr. 
Pope  and  the  three  subsequent  editors  read — What  monster* 
have  accus'd  her?  MALONE. 

a What  false  Italian 

(As poisonous  tongue'd,  as  handed,)"]  About  Shakspeare's 
time  the  practice  of  poisoning  was  very  common  in  Italy,  and 
the  suspicion  of  Italian  poisons  yet  more  common.  JOHNSON. 

3 take  in  some  virtue.'}     To  take  in  a  town,  is  to  conquer 

it.    JOHNSON. 


ac.  //.  CYMBELINE.  507 

Thy  mind  to  her  is  now  as  low,4  as  were 
Thy  fortunes. — How !  that  I  should  murder  her  ? 
Upon  the  love,  and  truth,  and  vows,  which  I 
Have  made  to  thy  command? — I,  her? — her  blood? 
If  it  be  so  to  do  good  service,  never 
Let  me  be  counted  serviceable.     How  look  I, 
That  I  should  seem  to  lack  humanity, 
So  much  as  this  fact  comes  to?  Do't :  The  letter 

[Reading. 

That  I  have  sent  her,  by  her  own  command 
Shall  give  thee  opportunity:5 — O  damn'd  paper! 
Black  as  the  ink  that's  on  thee !  Senseless  bauble, 
Art  thou  a  feodary  for  this  act,6  and  look'st 


So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra : 

" cut  the  Ionian  seas, 

"  And  take  in  Toryne — ." 
See  also,  Vol.  XVI.  p.  27,  n.  9.     STEEVENS. 

4  Thy  mind  to  her  is  now  as  low,']  That  is,  thy  mind  com- 
pared to  hers  is  now  as  low,  as  thy  condition  was,  compared  to 
hers.  Our  author  should  rather  have  written — thy  mind  to 
hers;  but  the  text,  I  believe,  is  as  he  gave  it.  MALONE. 

s Do' t:— The  letter 

That  I  have  sent  her,  by  her  own  command, 

Shall  give  thee  opportunity:']  Here  we  have  another  proof 
of  what  I  have  observed  in  The  Dissertation  at  the  end  of  King 
Henry  VI,  that  our  poet  from  negligence  sometimes  make  words 
change  their  form  under  the  eye  of  the  speaker  ;  who  in  different 
parts  of  the  same  play  recites  them  differently,  though  he  has  a 
paper  or  letter  in  his  hand,  and  actually  reads  from  it.  A  for- 
mer instance  of  this  kind  has  occurred  in  All's  well  that  -ends 
well.  See  Vol.  V.  p.  327,  n.  6. 

The  words  here  read  by  Pisanio  from  his  master's  letter, 
(which  is  afterwards  given  at  length,  and  in  prose,)  are  not 
found  there,  though  the  substance  of  them  is  contained  in  it. 
This  is  one  of  many  proofs  that  Shakspeare  had  no  view  to  the 
publication  of  his  pieces.  There  was  little  danger  that  such  an 
inaccuracy  should  be  detected  by  the  ear  of  the  spectator,  though 
it  could  hardly  escape  an  attentive  reader.  MALONE. 

0  Art  thou  a  feodary  for  this  act,']     A.  feodary  is  one  who 


508  CYMBELINE.  ACT  in. 

So  virgin-like  without?  Lo,  here  she. comes. 

Enter  IMOGEN. 

I  am  ignorant  in  what  I  am  commanded.7 
IMO.  How  now,  Pisanio  ? 

holds  his  estate  under  the  tenure  of  suit  and  service  to  a  supe- 
rior lord.  HANMER. 

How  a  letter  could  be  considered  as  a  feudal  vassal,  accord- 
ing to  Hanmer's  interpretation,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know. 
Feodary  means,  here,  a  confederate,  or  accomplice.  So,  Leontes 
says  of  Hermione,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

"  More,  she's  a  traitor,  and  Camillo  is 

"  hfcderary  with  her." 

I  also  think  that  the  wordjeodary  has  the  same  signification  in 
Measure  for  Measure,  though  the  other  commentators  do  not, 
and  have  there  assigned  my  reasons  for  being  of  that  opinion. 

M.  MASON. 

Art  tfiou  a  feodaryjbr  this  act,~]  Art  thou  too  combined,  art 
thou  a  confederate,  in  this  act? — h.fcodary  did  not  signify  a 
feudal  vassal,  as  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  and  the  subsequent  editors 
have  supposed,  (though  if  the  word  had  borne  that  signification, 
it  certainly  could  not  bear  it  here,)  but  was  an  officer  appointed 
by  the  Court  of  Wards,  by  virtue  of  the  Statute  32  Henry  VIII. 
c.  4-6,  to  be  present  ivith,  and  assistant  to  the  Escheators  in  every 
county  at  the  finding  of  offices,  and  to  give  in  evidence  for  the 
king.  His  duty  was  to  survey  the  lands  of  the  ward  after  office 
found,  [i.  e.  afteran  inquisition  had  been  made  to  the  king's  use,] 
and  to  return  the  true  value  thereof  to  the  court,  &c.  "  In  cog- 
noscendis  rimandisque  feudis  (says  Spelman)  ad  regem  pertinen- 
tibus,  et  ad  tenuras  pro  rege  manifestandas  tuendasque,  operam 
navat;  Escaetori  ideo  adjunctus,  omnibusque  nervis  regiam  pro- 
movens  utilitatem."  He  was  therefore,  we  see,  the  Escheator's 
associate,  and  hence  Shakspeare,  with  his  usual  licence,  uses  the 
word  for  a  confederate  or  associate  in  general.  The  feudal  vas~ 
sal  was  not  called  ajeodary,  but  ajeodatary  andjcudatory.  In 
Latin,  howe\er,Jeudatarius  signified  both.  MALONE. 

7  I  am  ignorant  in  what  I  am  commanded.^  i.  e.  I  am  un- 
practised in  the  arts  of  murder.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I : 

"  O,  I  am  ignorance  itself  in  this."     MALONE. 


8C..H.  CYMBELINE,  509 

Pis.  Madam,  here  is  a  letter  from  my  lord. 

IMO.  Who  ?  thy  lord  ?  that  is  my  lord?  Leonatus? 
O,  learn* d  indeed  were  that  astronomer, 
That  knew  the  stars,  as  I  his  characters ; 
He'd  lay  the  future  open. — You  good  gods, 
Let  what  is  here  contained  relish  of  love, 
Of  my  lord's  health,  of  his  content, — yet  not, 
That  we  two  are  asunder,  let  that  grieve  him,3 — . 
(Some  griefs  are  med'cinable ;)  that  is  one  of  them, 
For  it  doth  physick  love  ;9 — of  his  content, 
All  but  in  that ! — Goodwax,thy  leave : — Bless'dbe, 
You  bees,  that  make  these  locks  of  counsel!  Lovers, 
And  men  in  dangerous  bonds,  pray  not  alike; 
Though  forfeiters  you  cast  in  prison,  yet 
You  clasp  young  Cupid's  tables.1 — Goodnews,gods! 

[Reads. 

3  — —  let  that  grieve  him,]     I  should  wish  to  read : 
Of  my  lord's  health,  qf'his  content, — yet  no  ; 
That  ixe  two  are  asunder,  let  that  grieve  him  ! 

TYRWHITT. 

Tyrwhitt  wishes  to  amend  this  passage  by  reading  no,  instead 
of  not,  in  the  first  line  ;  but  it  is  right  as  it  stands,  and  there  is 
nothing  wanting  to  make  it  clear,  but  placing  a  stop  longer  than 
a  comma,  after  the  word  asunder.  The  sense  is  this: — "  Let 
the  letter  bring  me  tidings  of  my  lord's  health,  and  of  his  con- 
tent; not  of  his  content  that  we  are  asunder — let  that  circumstance 
grieve  him  ;  but  of  his  content  in  every  shape  but  that." 

M.  MASON. 

The  text  is  surely  right.     Let  what  is  here  contained  relish  of 

my  husband's  content,  in  every  thing  except  \our  being  separate 

from  each  other.  Let  that  one  circumstance  afflict  him!  MALONE. 

9  For  it  doth  physick  love;]     That  is,  grief  for  absence  keeps 

love  in  health  and  vigour.     JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale:  "  It  is  a  gallant  child;  one  that, 
indeed,  physicks  the  subject,  makes  old  hearts  fresh." 

STEEVENS. 

1 Bless'd  be, 

.  You  bees,  that  make  these  locks  of  counsel!  Lovers, 

And  men  in  dangerous  bonds,  pray  not  alike; 

Though  forfeiters  you  cast  in  prison,  yet 

You  clasp  young  Cupid's  tables.]     The  meaning  of  this, 


510  CYMBELINK,  ACTJII. 

Justice,  and  your  father's  wratli,  should  he  take 
me  in  his  dominion,  could  not  be  so  cruel  to  me,  as 
you,  O  the  dearest  of  creatures,  'would  not  even  re- 
new me  with  your  eyes?  Take  notice,  that  I  am  in 
Cambria,,  at  Milfbrd-Haven :  What  your  own  love 
willy  out  of  t/tis9  advise  you,  follow.  So,  he  wishes 
you  all  happiness,  that  remains  loyal  to  his  vow,9 
and  your,  increasing  in  love,* 

LEONATUS  POSTHUMUS. 


which  had  been  obscured  by  printingt/or/«£urc.5  for  forfeit  ers}  is 
no  more  than  that  the  bees  are  not  blessed  by  the  man  who  for- 
feiting a  bond  is  sent  to  prison,  as  they  are  by  the  lover  for 
whom  they  perform  the  more  pleasing  office  of  sealing  letters. 

STEEVENS. 

*  Justice,  &c.]  Old  copy — Justice,  and  your  father's  wrath, 
&c.  could  not  be  so  cruel  to  me  as  you,  O,  the  dearest  of  crea- 
tures, would  even  renew  me  with  your  eyes.  This  .passage, 
which  is  probably  erroneous,  is  nonsense,  unless  we  suppose 
that  the  word  as  has  the  force  of  but.  "  Your  father's  wrath 
could  not  be  so  cruel  to  me,  but  you  could  renew  me  with  your 
eyes."  M.  MASOX. 

I  know  not  what  idea  this  passage  presented  to  the  late  editors, 
who  have  passed  it  in  silence.  As  it  stands  in  the  old  copy,  it 
appears  to  me  unintelligible.  The  word  not  was,  I  think, 
omitted  at  the  -press,  rtfter  would.  Byiits  insertion  a  clear  sense 
is  given:  Justice  and  the  anger  of  your  father,  should  I  be  dis- 
covered here,  could  mot -be  so  cruel  :tOime,  but  that  you,  O  thou 
dearest  of  creatures,  would  be  able  to  renovate  my  spirits  by 
giving  me  .the  happiness  of  seeing  you.  Mr.  Pope  obtainedlhe 
same  sense  by*  less  justifiable  .method;  by  substituting  but  in- 
stead of  as  j  ,and  the  throe  subsequent  editors  adopted  that  read- 
ing. JVtAjLQNE. 

Mr.  Malone  reads — "  would  tfwf,"  #nd  I  have  followed  him. 

STEEVENS. 

3 that  vemains  loyal  to  his  vow,  #e.]  This  subscription 

to  the  second  letter  of  Posthumus,  affords  ample  countenance  to 
Mr.  M.  Mason's  conjecture  concerning. the  cj)}ic.lusio.n  of  a  for- 
mer one.  See  j>.  447,  p.  .4.  STEEVBNS. 

4 and  your,  increasing  &c.]  We  should,  1  think,  read 

thus : — and  your,  increasing  in  love,  Leon  at  us  Posthumus, — to 
•make  it  plain,  that  your  is  to  be  joined  in  construction  with  Leo- 


9C.u.  CYMBELINE.  511 

i 

O,  for  a  horse  with  wings ! — Hear'st  thou,  Pisanio? 
He  is  at  Milford- Haven  :  Read,  and  tell  me 
How  far  'tis  thither.     If  one  of  mean  affairs 
May  plod  it  in  a  week,  why  may  not  I 
Glide  thither  in  a  day  ? — Then,  true  Pisanio, 
(Who  long'st,likeme,tosee  thy  lord ;  wholong'st, — 
O,  let  me  'bate, — but  not  like  me: — yetlong'st, — 
But  in  a  fainter  kind : — O,  not  like  me ; 
For  mine's  beyond  beyond,5)  say,  and  speak  thick,* 
(Love's  counsellor  should  fill  the  bores  of  hearing, 
To  the  smothering  of  the  sense,)  how  far  it  is 
To  this  same  blessed  Milford :  And,  by  the  way, 
Tell  me  how  Wales  was  made  so  happy,  as 
To  inherit  such  a  haven :  But,  first  of  all, 
How  we  may  steal  from  hence ;  and,  for  the  gap 
That  we  shall  make  in  time,  from  our  hence-going, 
And  our  return,7  to  excuse: — but  first,  how  get 
hence : 


natus,  and  not  with  increasing;  and  that  the  latter  is  a  partici- 
ple present,  and  not  a  noun.     TYRWHITT. 

*  For  mine* s  beyond  beyond,}']  The  comma,  hitherto  placed 
after  the  first  beyond,  is  improper.  The  second  is  used  as  a  sub- 
stantive ;  and  the  plain  sense  is,  that  her  longing  is  further  than 
beyond  ;  beyond  any  thing  that  desire  can  be  said  to  be  beyond. 

RITSON. 

So,  in  King  Lear: 

"  Beyond  all  manner  of  so  much  I  love  you." 

STEEVENS. 

0 speak  thick,']     i.  e.  croud  one  word  on  another,  as  fast 

as  possible.     So,  in  iking  Henry  IV.  Part  II : 

"  And  speaking  thick,  which  nature  made  his  blemish, 

"  Became  the  accents  of  the  valiant.'* 
See  Vol.  XII.  p.  73,  n.  9.     Again,  in  Macbeth  ; 

" as  thick  as  tale 

"  Came  post  with  post ." 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  44,  n.  3.     STEEVENS. 

7 from  our  hence-going, 

And  our  return,"]  i.  e.  in  consequence  of  our  going  hence 


512  CYMBELINE.  ACTIIT. 

Why  should  excuse  be  born  or  e'er  begot  ?* 
We'll  talk  of  that  hereafter.     Pr'ythee,  speak, 
How  many  score  of  miles  may  we  well  ride 
'Twixt  hour  and  hour  ? 

Pis.  One  score,  'twixt  sun  and  sun, 

Madam,  's  enough  for  you  ;  and  too  much  too. 

IMO.  Why,  one  that  rode  to  his  execution,  man, 
Could  never  go  so  slow :  I  have  heard  of  riding 

wagers,9 
Where  horses  have  been  nimbler  than  the  sands 

That  run  i'the   clock's  behalf:1 But  this  is 

foolery  : — 

Go,  bid  my  woman  feign  a  sickness ;  say 
She'll  home  to  her  father:  and  provide  me,  pre- 
sently, 

A  riding  suit ;  no  costlier  than  would  fit 
A  franklin's  housewife.2 

Pis.  Madam,  you're  best  considers 


and  returning  back.  All  the  modern  editors,  adopting  an  alter- 
ation made  by  Mr.  Pope, — Till  our  return. 

In  support  of  the  reading  of  the  old  copy,  which  has  been 
here  restored,  see  Vol.  XVI.  p.  80,  n.  5.  MALONE. 

8  Why  should  excuse  be  born  or  e'er  begot  f]  Why  should  I 
contrive  an  excuse,  before  the  act  is  done,  for  which  excuse 
will  be  necessary  ?  MALONE. 

9 of  riding  wagers,']     Of  wagers  to  be  determined  by  the 

speed  of  horses.     MALONE. 

1  That  run  i'the  clock's  behalf:']  This  fantastical  expression 
means  no  more  than  sand  in  an  hour-glass,  used  to  measure  time. 

WARBURTON. 

*  A  franklin's  housewife.']  A.  franklin  is  literally  &  freeholder 
with  a  small  estate,  neither  villain  nor  vassal.  JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  XI.  p.  244,  n.  6.     STEEVENS. 

3  Madam,  you're  best  consider."]  That  is,  "  you'd  best  con- 
sider." M.  MASON. 

So  afterwards,  in  sc.  vi :  "  /  tvere  best  not  call."    MALONE. 


sc.  n.  CYMBELINE,  513 

IMO.  I  see  before  me,  man,  nor  here,  nor  here, 
Nor  what  ensues ;  but  have  a  fog  in  them, 
That  I  cannot  look  through.4     Away,  I  pr'ythee  ; 
Do  as  I  bid  thee :  There's  no  more  to  say ; 
Accessible  is  none  but  Milford  way.         [Exeunt* 

4  I  see  before  me,  man,  nor  here,  nor  here. 
Nor  what  ensues;  but  have  a  fog  in  themt 
That  I  cannot  look  through.^     The  lady  says :  "  I  can  see 
neither  one  way  nor  other,  before  me  nor  behind  me,  but  all  the 
ways  are  covered  with  an  impenetrable  fog."     There  are  objec- 
tions insuperable  to  all  that  I  can  propose,  and  since  reason  can 
give  me  no  counsel,  I  will  resolve  at  once  to  follow  my  inclination. 

JOHNSON. 

When  Imogen  speaks  these  words,  she  is  supposed  to  have 
her  face  turned  towards  Milford ;  and  when  she  pronounces  the 
words,  nor  here,  nor  here,  she  points  to  the  right  and  to  the  left. 
This  being  premised,  the  sense  is  evidently  this : — "  I  see  clearly 
the  way  before  me ;  but  that  to  the  right,  that  to  the  left,  and 
that  behind  me,  are  all  covered  with  a  fog  that  I  cannot  pene- 
trate. There  is  no  more  therefore  to  be  said,  since  there  is  no 
way  accessible  but  that  to  Milford." — The  passage,  however, 
should  be  pointed  thus  : 

"  I  see  before  me,  man  ; — nor  here,  nor  here, 
"  Nor  what  ensues,  but  have  a  fog  in  them 
"  That  I  cannot  look  through." 

What  ensues  means  "what  folloivs ;  and  Shakspeare  uses  it  here, 
somewhat  licentiously,  to  express  what  is  behind.     M.  MASON. 

Dr.  Johnson's  paraphrase  is  not,  I  think,  perfectly  correct.  I 
believe  Imogen  means  to  say,  "  I  see  neither  on  this  side,  nor  on 
that,  nor  behind  me ;  but  find  a  fog  in  each  of  those  quarters 
that  my  ey?  cannot  pierce.  The  way  to  Milford  is  alone  clear 
and  open  :  Let  us  therefore  instantly  seijfonoard: 
11  Accessible  is  none  but  Milford  way." 

By  "  ivhat  ensues,"  which  Dr.  Johnson  explains  perhaps 
rightly,  by  the  words — behind  me,  Imogen  means,  what  will  be 
the  consequence  of  the  step  I  am  going  to  take^  MALONE* 


VOL.  XVIII.  2   L 


514  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

SCENE  III. 

Wales.    A  mountainous  Country ,  with  a  Cave. 
Enter  BELARIUS,  GUIDERIUS,  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

BEL.  A  goodly  day  not  to  keep  house,  with  such 
Whose  roof's  as  low  as  ours !  Stoop,  boys : 5  This 

gate 
Instructs  you  how  to  adore  the  heavens ;  and  bows 

you 

To  morning's  holy  office  :  The  gates  of  monarchs 
Are  arch'd  so  high,  that  giants  may  jet6  through 
And  keep  their  impious  turbands  on,7  without 
Good  morrow  to  the  sun, — Hail,  thou  fair  heaven  ! 
We  house  i'the  rock,  yet  use  thee  not  so  hardly 
As  prouder  livers  do. 

GUI.  Hail,  heaven ! 

ARV.  Hail,  heaven ! 

'  Stoop,  boys:~\    The  old  copy  reads — Sleep,  boys: — 

from  whence  Sir  T.  Hanmer  conjectured  that  the  poet  wrote — 
Stoop,  boys — as  that  word  affords  an  apposite  introduction  to 
what  follows.  Mr.  Rowe  reads — See,  boys, — which  (as  usual) 
had  been  silently  copied.  STEEVENS. 

Perhaps  Shakspeare  wrote — Sweet  lays;  which  is  more  likely 
to  have  been  confounded  by  the  ear  with  "  Sleep,  boys,"  than 
what  Sir  T.  Hanmer  has  substituted.  MALONE. 

0  may  jet — ]   i.  e.  strut,  walk  proudly.     So,  in  Twelfth 

Night:  " how  he  jets  under  his  advanced  plumes." 

STF.EVEKS. 

7  their  impious  turbands  on,']     The  idea  of  a  giant  was, 

among  the  readers  of  romances,  who  were  almost  all  the  readers 
of  those  times,  always  confounded  with  that  of  a  Saracen. 

JOHNSON*. 


sc.  in.  CYMBELINE.  515 

BEL.  Now,  for  our  mountain  sport :  Up  to  yon 

hill, 

Your  legs  are  young ;  I'll  tread  these  flats.     Con- 
sider, 

When  you  above  perceive  me  like  a  crow, 
That  it  is  place,  which  lessens,  and  sets  off. 
And  you  may  then  revolve  what  tales  I  have  told 

you, 

Of  courts,  of  princes,  of  the  tricks  in  war : 
This  service  is  not  service,  so  being  done, 
But  being  so  allow'd  :8  To  apprehend  thus, 
Draws  us  a  profit  from  all  things  we  see : 
And  often,  to  our  comfort,  shall  we  find 
The  sharded  beetle9  in  a  safer  hold 

8  This  service  is  not  service,  &c.]     In  war  it  is  not  sufficient 
to  do  duty  well ;  the  advantage  rises  not  from  the  act,  but  the 
acceptance  of  the  act.     JOHNSON. 

As  this  seems  to  be  intended  by  Belarius  as  a  general  maxim, 
not  merely  confined  to  services  in  war,  I  have  no  doubt  but  we 
should  read: 

That  service  is  not  service,  &c.     M.  MASON. 

This  service  means,  any  particular  service.  The  observation 
relates  to  the  court,  as  well  as  to  war.  MALONE. 

9  The  sharded  beetle — ]    i.  e.  the  beetle  whose  wings  are  en- 
closed within  two  dry  husks  or  shards.     So,  in  Gower,  De  Con- 

fessione  Amantis,  Lib.  V.  fol.  103,  b: 

"  That  with  his  swerd,  and  with  his  spere, 

"  He  might  not  the  serpent  dere : 

"  He  was  so  sherdcd  all  aboute, 

"  It  held  all  edge  toole  withoute." 
Gower  is  here  speaking  of  the  dragon  subdued  by  Jason. 

STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  164,  n.  8.  Cole,  in  his  Latin  Diet.  1679, 
has — "  A  shard  or  crust — Crusta;"  which  in  the  Latin  part  he 
interprets — "  a  crust  or  shell,  a  rough  casing;  shards."  "  The 
cases  ( says  Goldsmith )  which  beetles  have  to  their  wings,  are  the 
more  necessary,  as  they  often  live  under  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
in  holes,  which  they  dig  out  by  their  own  industry."  These  are 
undoubtedly  the  safe  holds  to  which  Shakspeare  alludes. 

MALOXE. 
2  L  2 


.5  1  6  C  YMBELINE.  ACT  in. 

Than  is  the  full-wing'd  eagle.     O,  this  life 
Is  nobler,  than  attending  for  a  check  ;  ' 
Richer,  than  doing  nothing  for  a  babe  ;2 


The  epithet  fidl-wn^d  applied  to  the  eagle,  sufficiently  marks 
the  contrast  of  the  poet's  imagery  ;  for  whilst  the  bird  can  soar 
towards  the  sun  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  eye,  the  insect 
can  but  just  rise  above  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  that  at  the 
close  of  day.  HENLEY, 

1  .  -  attending  for  a  check  ;J  Check  may  mean,  in  this 
place,  a  reproof;  but  I  rather  think  it  signifies  command,  con- 
troul.  Thus,  in  Troilusand  Cressida,  the  restrictions  of  Aristotle 
are  called  Aristotle's  checks.  STEEVENS. 

*  —  •  —  than  doing  nothing  for  a  babe  ;]  [Dr.  Warburton  rends 
—  bauble.'}  i.  e.  vain  titles  of  honour  gained  by  an  idle  attend- 
ance at  court.  But  the  Oxford  editor  reads  —  for  a  bribe. 

WARBURTON. 

The  Oxford  editor  knew  the  reason  of  this  alteration,  though 
his  censurer  knew  it  not. 

Of  babe  some  corrector  made  bauble;  and  Sir  Thomas  Han- 
mer  thought  himself  equally  authorised  to  make  bribe.  I  think 
babe  can  hardly  be  right.  It  should  be  remembered,  however, 
that  bauble  was  anciently  spelt  bable;  so  that  Dr.  Warburton 
in  reality  has  added  but  one  letter.  A  bauble  was  part  of  the 
insignia  of  a  fool.  So,  in  AWs  -w.il  that  ends  ixelly  Act  IV.  sc.  v. 
the  Clown  says  : 

"  I  would  give  his  wife  my  bauble,  sir." 

It  was  a  kind  of  truncheon  (says  Sir  John  Hawkins,)  with  a 
head  carved  on  it.  To  this  Belarius  may  allude,  and  mean  that 
honourable  poverty  is  more  precious  than  a  sinecure  at  court,  of 
u-lrich  the  badge  in  a  truncheon  or  a  wand.  So,  in  Middleton's 
Came  at  Chess,  1623: 

"  Art  thou  so  cruel  for  an  honour's  bable?" 

As,  however,  it  was  once  the  custom  in  England  for  fa- 
vourites at  court  to  beg  the  wardship  of  infants  who  were  born 
to  great  riches,  our  author  may  allude  to  it  on  this  occasion. 
Frequent  complaints  were  made  that  nothing  ivas  done  towards 
the  education  of  these  neglected  orphans.  STEEVENS. 

I  have  always  suspected  that  the  right  reading  of  this  passage  i» 
what  I  had  not  in  a  former  edition  the  confidence  to  proppse  : 

Richer  than  doing  nothing  for  a  brabe  ;  -  . 
Brabinm  is  a  badge  of  honour,  or  the  ensign  of  an  honour,  or 
any  thing  worn  as  a  mark  of  dignity:     The  word  was  strange  t« 


sc.ni.  CYMBELINE.  517 

Prouder,  than  rustling  in  unpaid-for  silk : 
Such  gain  the  cap  of  him,  that  makes  them  fine, 
Yet  keeps  his  book  imcross'd  :3  no  life  to  ours.4 
GUI.  Out  of  your  proof  you  speak :   we,  poor 

unfledg'd, 
Have  never  wing'd  from  view  o'the  nest;  nor  know 

not 

What  air's  from  home.     Haply,  this  life  is  best, 
If  quiet  life  be  best ;  sweeter  to  you, 
That  have  a  sharper  known  ;  well  corresponding 
With  your  stiff  age  :  but,  unto  us,  it  is 
A  cell  of  ignorance  ;  travelling  abed  ; 
A  prison  for  a  debtor,  that  not  dares 
To  stride  a  limit.5 


the  editors,  as  it  will  be  to  the  reader  ;  they  therefore  changed 
it  to  babe;  and  I  am  forced  to  propose  it  without  the  support  of 
any  authority.  Brabium  is  a  word  found  in  Holyoak's  Dic- 
tionary, who  terms  it  a  reward.  Cooper,  in  his  Thesaurus,  de- 
fines it  to  be  a  prize,  or  reward  for  any  game.  JOHNSON. 

A  babe  and  baby  are  synonymous.  A  baby  being  a  puppet  or 
play-thing  for  children,  perhaps,  if  there  be  no  corruption,  a  babe 
here  means  a  puppet : — but  I  think  with  Dr.  Johnson  that  the 
text  is  corrupt.  For  babe  Mr.  Howe  substituted  bauble. 

Doing  nothing  in  this  passage  means,  I  think,  being  busy  in 
petty  and  unimportant  employments :  in  the  same  sense  as  when 
we  say,  melius  esttotiosum  esse  quam  nihil  agere. 

The  following  lines  in  Dray  ton's  Owle,  4to.  1604,  may  add, 
however,  some  support  to  Howe's  emendation,  bable  or  bauble: 
"  Which  with  much  sorrow  brought  into  my  mind 
"  Their  wretched  soules,  so  ignorantly  blinde, 
"  When  even  the  greatest  things,  in  the  world  unstable, 
"  Clyme  but  to  fall,  and  damned  for  a  bable." 

MALONE. 

3  Yet  keeps  his  book  uncross'd:^     So,  in  Skialetheia,  a  collec- 
tion of  Epigrams,  &c.  1598  : 

"  Yet  stands  he  in  the  debet  book  uncrost."     STEEVENS. 

4  . no  life  to  ours.~\    i.  e.  compared  with  ours.    So,  p.  507  : 

"  Thy  mind  to  her  is  now  as  low,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 

*  To  stride  a  limit.']  To  overpass  his  bound.    JOHNSON. 


3 1 8  C  YMBELINE.  ACT  ///. 

ARV.  What  should  we  speak  of,6 

When  we  are  old  as  you  ?  when  we  shall  hear 
The  rain  and  wind  beat  dark  December,  how, 
In  this  our  pinching  cave,  shall  we  discourse 
The  freezing  hours  away  ?  We  have  seen  nothing : 
We  are  beastly ;  subtle  as  the  fox,  for  prey ; 
Like  warlike  as  the  wolf,  for  what  we  eat : 
Our  valour  is,  to  chace  what  flies ;  our  cage 
We  make  a  quire,  as  doth  the  prison  bird, 
And  sing  our  bondage  freely. 

BEL.  How  you  speak ! 7 

Did  you  but  know  the  city's  usuries, 
And  felt  them  knowingly  •.  the  art  o'the  court, 
As  hard  to  leave,  as  keep  ;  whose  top  to  climb 
Is  certain  falling,  or  so  slippery,  that 
The  fear's  as  bad  as  falling :  the  toil  of  the  war, 
A  pain  that  only  seems  to  seek  out  danger 
I' the  name  of  fame,  and  honour ;  which  dies  i'the 

search ; 

And  hath  as  oft  a  slanderous  epitaph, 
As  record  of  fair  act ;  nay,  many  times, 
Doth  ill  deserve  by  doing  well ;  what's  worse, 
Must  court'sey  at  the  censure  : — O,  boys,  this  story 
The  world  may  read  in  me  :  My  body's  mark'd 
With  Roman  swords  ;  and  my  report  was  once 

In  the  preceding  line  the  old  copy  reads — A  prison,  or  a 
debtor,  &c.     The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope. 

MALONE. 

6  What  should  we  speak  qf,~]     This  dread  of  an  old  age,  un- 
supplied  with  matter  tor  discourse  and  meditation,  is  a  sentiment 
natural  and  noble.     No  state  can  be  more  destitute  than  that  of 
him,  who,  when  the  delights  of  sense  forsake  him,  has  no  plea- 
sures of  the  mind.    JOHNSON. 

7  How  you  speak  /]     Otway  seems  to  have  taken  many  hints 
for  the  conversation  that  passes  between  Acasto  and  his  sons, 
from  the  scene  before  us.    STEEVENS. 


sc>  m.  CYMBELINE.  519 

First  with  the  best  of  note  :  Cymbeline  lov'd  me  ; 
And  when  a  soldier  was  the  theme,  my  name 
Was  not  far  off:  Then  was  I  as  a  tree, 
Whose  boughs  did  bend  with  fruit :  but,  in  one  night, 
A  storm,  or  robbery,  call  it  what  you  will, 
Shook  down  my  mellow  hangings,  nay,  my  leaves, 
And  left  me  bare  to  weather.8 

GUI.  Uncertain  favour ! 

BEL.  My  fault  being  nothing  (as  I  have  told  you 

oft,) 

But  that  two  villains,  whose  false  oaths  prevailed 
Before  my  perfect  honour,  swore  to  Cymbeline, 
I  was  confederate  with  the  Romans :  so, 
Follow' d  my  banishment ;  and,  this  twenty  years, 
This  rock, and  these  demesnes,have  been  my  world : 
Where  I  have  liv'd  at  honest  freedom  ;  paid 
More  pious  debts  to  heaven,  than  in  all 
The  fore-end  of  my  time. — But,  up  to  the  moun- 
tains ; 

This  is  not  hunters'  language : — He,  that  strikes 
The  venison  first,  shall  be  the  lord  o'the  feast ; 
To  him  the  other  two  shall  minister ; 
And  we  will  fear  no  poison,  which  attends 
In  place  of  greater  state.9     I'll  meet  you  in  the 
valleys.  [_Exeunt  GUI.  and  ARV. 


8  And  left  me  bare  to  weather.']   So,  in  Timon  of  Athens: 

"  That  numberless  upon  me  stuck,  as  leaves 
"  Do  on  the  oak,  have  with  one  winter's  brush, 
"  Fallen  from  their  boughs,  and  left  me,  open,  bare, 
"  For  every  storm  that  bloivs"     STEEVENS. 

9  And  we  ivilljear  no  poison,  which  attends 

In  place  of  greater  state.']  The  comparative — greater,  which 
violates  the  measure,  is  surely  an  absurd  interpolation ;  the  loiv- 
brovi'd  cave  in  which  the  princes  are  meanly  educated,  being  a 
place  of  no  state  at  all.  STEEVENS. 


520  CYMBELINE.  ACT  in. 

How  hard  it  is,  to  hide  the  spares  of  nature! 
These  boys  know  little,  they  are  sons  to  the  king; 
Nor  Cymbeline  dreams  that  they  are  alive. 
They  think,  they  are  mine  :  and,  though  train'd  up 

thus  meanly 

I'the  cave,  wherein  they  bow,1  their  thoughts  do  hit 
The  roofs  of  palaces  ;  and  nature  prompts  them, 
In  simple  ana  low  things,  to  prince  it,  much 
Beyond  the  trick  of  others.     This  Polydore, '-' — 

" nulla  aconita  bibuntur 

"  Fictilibus ;  tune  ilia  time,  cum  pocula  sumes 

"  Gemmata,  et  lato  Setinum  ardebit  in  auro."     Juv. 

MALOXE. 

1  though  train'd  up  thus  meanly 

I'the  cave,  wherein  they  bow,]   The  old  editions  read: 

I'the  cave,  whereon  the  bowe ; 

which,  though  very  corrupt,  will  direct  us  to  the  true  reading, 
[as  it  stands  in  the  text.] — In  this  very  cave,  which  is  so  low 
that  they  must  bow  or  bend  in  entering  it,  yet  are  their  thoughts 
so  exalted,  £c.  This  is  the  antithesis.  Belarius  had  spoken 
before  of  the  lowness  of  this  cave : 

"  A  goodly  day  !  not  to  keep  house,  with  such 
"  Whose  roof's  as  low  as  ours  !  Stoop,  boys  :  This  gate 
"  Instructs  you  how  to  adore  the  heavens ;  and  bows  you 
"  To  morning's  holy  office."     WARBURTON. 

8 77m  Polydore,]  The  old  copy  of  the  play  (except  here, 

where  it  may  be  only  a  blunder  of  the  printer,)  calls  the  eldest 
son  of  Cymbeline,  Polidore,  as  often  as  the  name  occurs ;  and 
yet  there  are  some  who  may  ask  whether  it  is  not  more  likely 
that  the  printer  should  have  blundered  in  the  other  places,  than 
that  he  should  have  hit  upon  such  an  uncommon  name  as  Pala- 
dour  in  this  first  instance.     Paladour  was  the  ancient  name  for 
Shajlsbury.     So,  in  A  Meeting  Dialogue-ivise  between  Nature, 
the  Phtenix,  and  the  Turtle-dove,  by  R.  Chester,  1601 : 
"  This  noble  king  builded  fair  Caerguent, 
"  Now  cleped  Winchester  of  worthie  fame ; 
"  And  at  mount  Paladour  he  built  his  tent, 
"  That  after-ages  Shaftsburie  hath  to  name." 

STEEVENS. 

I  believe,  however,  Polydore  is  the  true  reading.    In  the  pages 
of  Holinshed,  which  contain  an  account  of  Cymbeline,  Polydore 


sc.  m.  CYMBELINE.  521 

The  heir  of  Cymbeline  and  Britain,  whom 
The  king  his  father  call'd  Guiderius, — Jove ! 
When  on  my  three-foot  stool  I  sit,  and  tell 
The  warlike  feats  I  have  done,  his  spirits  fly  out 
Into  my  story :  say, — Thus  mine  enemy  fell; 
And  thus  I  set  my  foot  on  his  neck ;  even  then 
The  princely  blood  flows  in  his  cheek,  he  sweats, 
Strains  his  young  nerves,  and  puts  himself  in  pos- 
ture 

That  acts  my  words.  The  younger  brother,  Cadwal,3 
(Once,  Arviragus,)  in  as  like  a  figure, 
Strikes  life  into  my  speech,  and  shows  much  more 
His  own  conceiving.  Hark !  the  game  is  rous'd! — 
O  Cymbeline  !  heaven,  and  my  conscience,  knows, 
Thou  didst  unjustly  banish  me  :  whereon, 
At  three,  and  two  years  old,  I  stole  these  babes;4 


[i.  e.  Polydore  Virgil]  is  often  quoted  in  the  margin ;  and  this 
probably  suggested  the  name  to  Shakspeare.  MALONE. 

Otway  (see  p.  518,  n.  7,)  was  evidently  of  the  same  opinion, 
as  he  has  so  denominated  one  of  the  sons  of  Acasto  in  The 
Orphan. 

The  translations,  however,  of  both  Homer  and  Virgil,  would 
have  afforded  Shakspeare  the  name  of  Polydore.  STEEVENS. 

3  The  younger  brother,  Cadwal,]  This  name  is  found  in  an 
ancient  poem,  entitled  King  Arthur,  which  is  printed  in  the 
same  collection  with  the  Meeting  Dialogue-wise,  &c.  quoted  in 
the  preceding  note  : 

" Augisell,  king  of  stout  Albania, 

*'  And  Caduall,  king  of  Vinedocia ." 

In  this  collection  one  of  our  author's  own  poems  was  origin- 
ally printed.  MALONE. 

See  Mr.  Malone's  edition  of  our  author's  works,  Vol.  X. 
p.  341,  n.  9.  STEEVENS. 

4 /  stole  these  babes ;]     Shakspeare   seems   to  intend 

Belarius  for  a  good  character,  yet  he  makes  him  forget  the  injury 
which  he  has  done  to  the  young  princes,  whom  he  has  robbed  of 
a  kingdom  only  to  rob  their  father  of  heirs. — The  latter  part  of 
this  soliloquy  is  very  inartificial,  there  being  no  particular  reason 


522  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

Thinking  to  bar  thee  of  succession,  as 

Thou  reft'st  me  of  my  lands.     Euriphile, 

Thou  wast  their  nurse ;  they  took  thee  for  their 

mother, 

And  every  day  do  honour  to  her  grave:5 
Myself,  Belarius,  that  am  Morgan  call'd, 
They  take  for  natural  father.  The  game  is  up. 

[j&rif. 


SCENE  IV. 

Near  Milford- Haven. 
Enter  PISANIO  and  IMOGEN. 

I  MO.  Thou  told'st  me,  when  we  came  from  horse, 

the  place 

Was  near  at  hand : — Ne'er  long'd  my  mother  so 
To  see  me  first,  as  I  have  now: — Pisanio !  Man  ! 
Where  is  Posthumus?6  What  is  in  thy  mind, 

why  Belarius  should  now  tell  to  himself  what  he  could  not  know 
better  by  telling  it.    JOHNSON. 

s to  her  grave :  ]  i.  e.  to  the  grave  of  Euriphile ;  or,  to  the 

grave  of  their  mother,  as  they  suppose  if  to  be.     The  poet  ought 
rather  to  have  written — to  thy  grave.     MA  LONE. 

Perhaps  he  did  write  so,  and  the  present  reading  is  only  a  cor- 
ruption introduced  by  his  printers  or  publishers.  STEEVENS. 

6  Where  is  Posthumus  ?"}  Shakspeare's  apparent  ignorance  of 
quantity  is  not  the  least  among  many  proofs  of  his  want  of  learn- 
ing. Almost  throughout  this  play  he  calls  Post/litmus,  Posthumus, 
and  Arvirdgus,  always  Arviragus.  It  may  be  said  that  quantity 
in  the  age  of  our  author  did  not  appear  to  have  been  much  re- 
garded. In  the  tragedy  of  Darius,  by  William  Alexander  of 
Menstrie,  (lord  Sterline)  1603,  Darius  is  always  called  Darius, 
and  Euphrates,  Euphrates : 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  523 

That  makes  thee  stare  thus  ?  Wherefore  breaks  that 

sigh 

From  the  inward  of  thee  ?  One,  but  painted  thus, 
Would  be  interpreted  a  thing  perplex'd 
Beyond  self-explication  :  Put  thyself 
Into  a  haviour7  of  less  fear,  ere  wildness 
Vanquish  my  staider  senses.     What's  the  matter? 
Why  tender'st  thou  that  paper  to  me,  with 
A  look  untender  ?  If  it  be  summer  news, 

"  The  diadem  that  Darius  erst  had  borne 

"  The  famous  Euphrates  to  be  your  border — ." 

Again,  in  the  21st  Song  of  Drayton's  Poluolbion: 

"  That  gliding  go  in  state  like  swelling  Euphrates." 
Throughout  Sir  Arthur  Gorges'  translation  of  Lucan,  Euphrates 

is  likewise  given  instead  of  Euphrates.     STEEVENS. 

Shakspeare's  ignorance  of  the  quantity  of  Posthumus  is  the 
rather  remarkable,  as  he  gives  it  rightly  both  when  the  name 
first  occurs,  and  in  another  place : 

"  To  his  protection  ;  calls  him  Posthumus. 

"  Struck  the  main-top  ! — O,  Posthumus  !  alas." 

RITSON. 

In  A  Meeting  Dialogue-wise  between  Nature,  the  Phcenix,  and 
the  Turtle-dove,  by  R.  Chester,  1601,  Arviragus  is  introduced 
with  the  same  neglect  of  quantity  as  in  this  play : 
"  Windsor,  a  castle  of  exceeding  strength, 
"  First  built  by  Arviragus,  Britaine's  king." 
Again,  by  Heywood,  in  his  Britaynes  Troy  : 

"  Now  Arviragus  reigns,  and  takes  to  wife 
"  The  emperor  Claudius's  daughter." 

It  seems  to  have  been  the  general  rule,  adopted  by  scholars  as 
well  as  others,  to  pronounce  Latin  names  like  English  words : 
Shakspeare's  neglect  of  quantity  therefore  proves  nothing. 

MALONE. 

The  propriety  of  the  foregoing  remark,  is  not  altogether  con- 
firmed by  the  practice  of  our  ancient  translators  from  classick 
authors.  STEEVENS. 

7 haviour — ]     This  word,  as  often  as  it  occurs  in  Shak- 

speare,  should  not  be  printed  as  an  abbreviation  of  behaviour. 
Haviour  was  a  word  commonly  used  in  his  time.  See  Spenser, 
jEglogue  IX: 

"  Their  ill  haviour  garres  men  missay."     STEEVENS. 


524  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

Smile  to't  before  :8  if  winterly,  thou  need'st 

But  keep  that  countenance  still. — My  husband's 

hand ! 

That  drug-damn'd9  Italy  hath  out-craftied  him,1 
And  he's  at  some  hard  point.— Speak,  man ;  thy 

tongue 

May  take  off  some  extremity,  which  to  read 
Would  be  even  mortal  to  me. 

Pis.  Please  you,  read  ; 

And  you  shall  find  me,  wretched  man,  a  thing 
The  most  disdain'd  of  fortune. 

* 

• 

I  MO.  [  Reads.]  Thy  mistress,  Pisanio,  hath  played 
the  strumpet  in  my  bed ;  the  testimonies  whereof  lie 
bleeding  in  me.  I  speak  not  out  of  weak  surmises; 
from  proof  as  strong  as  my  grief,  and  as  certain  as 
I  expect  my  revenge.  That  part,  thou,  Pisanio, 
must  act  for  me,  if  thy  faith  be  not  tainted  with  the 
breach  of  hers.  Let  thine  own  hands  take  away  her 
life:  I  shall  give  thee  opportunities  at  Milford- 
Haven  :  she  hath  my  letter  for  the  purpose :  Where, 
if  thou  fear  to  strike,  and  to  make  me  certain  it  is 
done,  thou  art  the  pandar  to  her  dishonour,  and 
equally  to  me  disloyal. 

—  If  it  be  summer  news, 

Smile  to't  before:]     So,  in  our  author's  98th  Sonnet : 
"  Yet  not  the  lays  of  birds,  nor  the  sweet  smell 
"  Of  different  flowers  in  odour  and  in  hue, 
"  Could  make  me  any  summer's  story  tell."    MALOXE. 

9 drug-damn'd — ]     This  is  another  allusion  to  Italian 

poisons.    JOHNSON. 

1 oMf-craftied  himt~\     Thus  the  old  copy,  and  so  Shak- 

speare  certainly  wrote.     So,  in  Coriolanus: 

"  . — . chaste  as  the  icicle, 

"  That's  curdled  by  the  frost  from  purest  snow." 
Mr.  Pope  and  all  the  subsequent  editors  read — out-crafted 
here,  and  curdled  in  Coriolanus.     MALONE. 


so.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  525 

Pis.  What  shall  I  need  to  draw  my  sword  ?  the 

paper 

Hath  cut  her  throat  already.2 — No,  'tis  slander ; 
Whose  edge  is  sharper  than  the  sword;  whose  tongue 
Outvenoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile  ; 3  whose  breath 
Rides  on  the  posting  winds,4  and  doth  beiie 
All  corners  of  the  world :  kings,  queens,  and  states,5 
Maids,  matrons,  nay,  the  secrets  of  the  grave 
This  viperous  slander  enters. — What  cheer,  madam  ? 

IMO.  False  to  his  bed  !  What  is  it,  to  be  false  ? 
To  lie  in  watch  there,  and  to  think  on  him  ?* 
To  weep  'twixt  clock  and  clock  ?  if  sleep  charge 

nature, 

To  break  it  with  a  fearful  dream  of  him, 
And  cry  myself  awake  ?  that's  false  to  his  bed? 
Is  it  ? 

*  What  shall  I  need  to  draw  my  stvord?  the  paper 

Hath  cut  her  throat  already."]     So,  in  Venus  and  Adonis: 
"  Struck  dead  at  first,  what  needs  a  second  striking  ?" 

MALONE. 

3  Outvenoms  all  the  'worms  of  Nile;  &c.]   So,  in  Churchyard's 
Discourse  of  Rebellion  &c.  1570: 

"  Hit  venom  castes  as  far  as  Nilus  flood,  [brood] 
"  Hit  poysoneth  all  it  toucheth  any  wheare." 
Serpents  and  dragons  by  the  old  writers  were  called  tvorms. 
Of  this,  several  instances  are  given  in  the  last  Act  of  Antony  and 
Cleopatra.    .STEEVENS. 

*  Rides  on  the  posting  winds,]     So,  in  King  Henry  V : 

" making  the  wind  my  post-horse."     MALONE* 

5 states,"]     Persons  of  highest  rank.     JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  XV.  p.  319,  n.  6.     MALONE. 

So,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  second  Iliad: 

"  The  other  scepter-bearing  states  arose  too  and  obey'd 
"  The  people's  rector."     STEEVENS. 

* What  is  it,  to  be  false  ? 

To  lie  in  ivatch  there,  and  to  think  on  him  ?~\     This  passage 
should  be  pointed  thus  : 

. What!  is  it  to  be  false, 

To  lie  in  watch  there,  and  to  think  on  him? 

M.  MASON. 


526  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ui. 

PIS.  Alas,  good  lady ! 

I  MO.  I  false?  Thy  conscience  witness: — lachimo, 
Thou  didst  accuse  him  of  incontinency ; 
Thou  then  look'dst  like  a  villain;  now,  methinks, 
Thy  favour's  good  enough.7 — Some  jay  of  Italy,8 
Whose  mother  was  her  painting,9  hath  betray*  d  him : 
Poor  I  am  stale,  a  garment  out  of  fashion  ; l 
And,  for  I  am  richer  than  to  hang  by  the  walls, 
I  must  be  ripp'd  :2 — to  pieces  with  me ! — O, 

7  Thou  then  look'dst  like  a  villain;  now,  methinks, 
Thy  favour's  good  enough.'}     So,  in  King  Lear: 

"  Those  wicked  creatures  yet  do  look  well  favour'd, 
"  When  others  are  more  wicked."     M ALONE. 
9 Some  jay  of  Italy, ~\     There  is  a  prettiness  in  this  ex- 
pression; putta,  in  Italian,  signifying  both  a  jay  and  a  whore:  I 
suppose  from  the  gay  feathers  of  that  bird.     WARBURTON. 

So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor :  "  Teach  him  to  know 
turtles  from  jays.'*  STEEVEXS. 

9  Whose  mother  uas  her  painting,]  Some  jay  of  Italy,  made 
by  art ;  the  creature,  not  of  nature,  but  of  painting.  In  this 
sense  painting  may  be  not  improperly  termed  her  mother. 

JOHNSON'. 

I  met  with  a  similar  expression  in  one  of  the  old  comedies, 
but  forgot  to  note  the  date  or  name  of  the  piece  :  "  —  a  parcel 
of  conceited  feather-caps,  whose  fathers  mere  their  garments." 

STEEVENS. 
In  All's  well  that  ends  "well,  we  have — 

" -whose  judgments  are 

*«  Merefathers  nfttteir  garments."     MALONE. 
Whose  mother  was  her  painting,]  i.  e.  her  likeness.     HARRIS. 
1  Poor  I  am  stale,  a  garment  out  of  fashion ;]     This  image 
occurs  in  Westward  for  Smelts,  1620,  immediately  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  tale  on  which  our  play  is  founded:  "  But  (said 
the  Brainford  fish-wife)  I  like  her  as  a  garment  out  of  fashion." 

STEEVENS. 
4  And,  for  I  am  richer  than  to  hang  by  the  walls, 

I  must  be  ripp'd:']  To  fiang  by  the  walls,  does  not  mean,  to 
be  converted  into  hangings  for  a  room,  but  to  be  hung  up,  as 
useless,  among  the  neglected  contents  of  a  wardrobe.  So,  in 
Measure  for  Measure: 

"  That  have,  like  unscour'd  armour,  hung  by  the  •wall.'" 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  527 

Men's  vows  are  women's  traitors !  All  good  seeming, 
By  thy  revolt,  O  husband,  shall  be  thought 
Put  on  for  villainy ;  not  born,  where't  grows ; 
But  worn,  a  bait  for  ladies. 

Pis.  Good  madam,  hear  me. 

IMO.  True  honest  men  being  heard,  like  false 

JEneas, 

Were,in  his  time,  thoughtfalse:  andSinon's  weeping 
Did  scandal  many  a  holy  tear ;  took  pity 
From  most  true  wretchedness :  So,thou,  Posthumus, 
Wilt  lay  the  leaven  on  all  proper  men  ;3 


When  a  boy,  at  an  ancient  mansion-house  in  Suffolk,  I  saw 
one  of  these  repositories,  which  (thanks  to  a  succession  of  old 
maids!)  had  been  preserved,  with  superstitious  reverence,  for 
almost  a  century  and  a  half. 

Clothes  were  not  formerly,  as  at  present,  made  of  slight  ma- 
terials, were  not  kept  in  drawers,  or  given  away  as  soon  as  lapse 
of  time  or  change  of  fashion  had  impaired  their  value.  On  the 
contrary,  they  were  hung  up  on  wooden  pegs  in  a  room  appro- 
priated to  the  sole  purpose  of  receiving  them ;  and  though  such 
cast-off  things  as  were  composed  of  rich  substances,  were  occa- 
sionally ripped  for  domestick  uses,  (viz.  mantles  for  infants, 
vests  for  children,  and  counterpanes  for  beds,)  articles  of  inferior 
quality  were  suffered  to  hang  ly  ike  ivalls,  till  age  and  moths 
had  destroyed  what  pride  would  not  permit  to  be  worn  by  servant? 
or  poor  relations. 

"  Comitem  horridulum  trita  donare  lacerna," 
seems  not  to  have  been  customary  among  our  ancestors. — When 
Queen  Elizabeth  died,  she  was  found  to  have  left  above  three 
thousand  dresses  behind  her  ;  and  there  is  yet  in  the  wardrobe  of 
Covent-Garden  Theatre,  a  rich  suit  of  clothes  that  once  belonged 
to  King  James  I.  When  I  saw  it  last,  it  was  on  the  back  of 
Justice  Greedy,  a  character  in  Massinger's  Nerv  Way  to  pay  old 
Debts.  STEEVENS. 

3  Will  lay  the  leaven  on  all  proper  men;  &c.~\  i.e.  says  Mr. 
Upton,  "wilt  infect  and  corrupt  their  good  name,  (like  sour  dough 
that  leaveneth  the  whole  mass, )  and  will  render  them  suspected." 
In  the  line  below  he  would  read— -fall,  instead  of  Jail.  So,  in 
King  Henri/  V : 


528  CYMBELINE.'  ACT  m. 

Goodly,  and  gallant,  shall  be  false,  and  peijur'd, 
From  thy  great  fail. — Come,  fellow,  be  thou  ho- 
nest : 
Do  thou  thy  master's  bidding :  When  thou  see'st 

him, 

A  little  witness  my  obedience  :  Look  ! 
I  draw  the  sword  myself:  take  it ;  and  hit 
The  innocent  mansion  of  my  love,  my  heart : 
Fear  not;  'tis  empty  of  all  things,  but  grief: 
Thy  master  is  not  there  ;  who  was,  indeed, 
The  riches  of  it :  Do  his  bidding ;    strike. 
Thou  may'st  be  valiant  in  a  better  cause  ; 
But  now  thou  seem'st  a  coward. 

Pis.  Hence,  vile  instrument ! 

Thou  shalt  not  damn  my  hand. 

I  MO.  Why,  I  must  die  ; 

And  if  I  do  not  by  thy  hand,  thou  art 
No  servant  of  thy  master's :  Against  self-slaughter* 
There  is  a  prohibition  so  divine, 
That  cravens  my  weak  hand.5    Come,  here's  my 
heart ; 


"  And  thus  thy  fall  hath  left  a  kind  of  blot 
"  To  mark  the  full-fraught  man,  and  best-indued, 
"  With  some  suspicion." 
I  think  the  text  is  right.     MA  LONE. 

So,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 

" for  the  fail 

"  Of  any  point"  &c.     STEEVEXS. 

4  Against  self-slaughter  &c.]     So  again,  in  Hamlet : 

" the  Everlasting fix'd 

"  His  canon  'gainst  self-slaughter."     STEEVEXS. 

5  That  cravens  my  iveak  hand."]     i.  e.  makes  me  a  coward. 

POPE. 

That  makes  me  afraid  to  put  an  end  to  my  own  life.     See 
Vol.  IX.  p.  85,  n.  4.     MALOXE. 


#C/KA  &YMBELIN&  529 

Something's  afore't:6— Soft,  soft;  we'll  no  defence; 
Obedient  as  the  scabbard. — What  is  here  ? 
The  scriptures7  of  the  loyal  Leonatus, 
All  turn'd  to  heresy  ?  Away,  away, 
Corrupters  of  my  faith  !  you  shall  no  more 
Be  stomachers  to  my  heart !  Thus  may  poor  fools 
Believe  false  teachers  :  Though  those  that  are  be- 
tray *d 

Do  feel  the  treason  sharply,  yet  the  traitor 
Stands  in  worse  case  of  woe. 
And  thou,  Posthumus,  thou  that8  did'st  set  up 
My  disobedience  'gainst  the  king  my  father. 
And  make  me  put  into  contempt  the  suits 
Of  princely  fellows,  shalt  hereafter  find 
It  is  no  act  of  common  passage,  but 
A  strain  of  rareness :  and  I  grieve  myself, 
To  think,  when  thou  shalt  be  disedg'd9  by  her 
That  now  thou  tir'st  on,1  how  thy  memory 
Will  then  be  pang'd  by  me. — Pr'ythee,  despatch : 
The  lamb  entreats  the  butcher :  Where's  thy  knife  ? 


0  Something's  afore't :]     The  old  copy  reads — Something's 
(ifoot.    JOHNSON. 

The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Howe.    MALONE. 

7  The  scriptures — ]      So,  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Sad  Shepherd: 

"  The  lover's  scriptures,  Heliodore's,  or  Tatius'." 
Shakspeare,  however,  means  in  this  place,  an  opposition  between 
scripture,  in  its  common  signification,  and  heresy.     STEEVENS. 

,*  8 thou  that. — ]   The  second  thou,  which  is  not  in  the  old 

copies,  has  been  added  for  the  sake  of  recovering  metre. 

STEEVENS. 

9 disedg'd — ]     So,  in  Hamlet:  "  It  would  cost  you  a 

groaning,  to  take  off  mine  edge."     STEEVENS. 

1  That  now  thou  tir'st  on,"}   A  hawk  is  said  to  tire  upon  that 
which  she  pecks;  from  tirer,  French.     JOHNSON. 

See  Vol.  IX.  p.  276,  n.  2.    STEEVENS. 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  M 


530  .CYMBELINE.  ACT  in, 

Thou  art  too  slow  to  do  thy  master's  biddifljg, 
When  I  desire  it  too. 

Pis.  O  gracious  lady, 

Since  I  received  command  to  do  this  business, 
I  have  not  slept  one  wink. 

IMO.  Do'jt,  and  to  bed  then. 

Pis.  I'll  wake  mine  eye-balls  blind  first.2 

IMO.  Wherefore  then 

Didst  undertake  it  ?  Why  hast  thou  abus'd 
So  many  miles,  with  a  pretence  ?  this  place  ? 
Mine  action,  and  thine  own  ?  our  horses*  labour  ? 
The  time  inviting  thee  ?  the  perturb'd  court, 
For  my  being  absent ;  whereunto  I  never 
Purpose  return  ?  Why  hast  thou  gone  so  far, 
To  be  unbent,3  when  thou  hast  ta'en  thy  stand, 

8  PUwake  mine  eyeballs  blind  Jirst.~]  [In  the  old  copies,  the 
word — blind  is  wanting.]  The  modern  editions  for  wake  read 
break,  and  supply  the  deficient  syllable  by — Ah  wherefore.  I 
read — I'll  wake  mine  eye-balls  out  first,  or,  blind  first. 

JOHNSON. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  had  made  the  same  emendation. 

MALONE. 

Dr.  Johnson's  conjecture  ( which  I  have  inserted  in  the  text,) 
may  receive  support  from  the  following  passage  in  The  Bug- 
bears, a  MS.  comedy  more  ancient  than  the  play  before  us : 

" 1  doubte 

"  Least  for  lacke  of  my  slepe  I  shall  watche  my  eyes  oute." 
Again,  in  The  Revenger's  Tragedy,  1608 : 

" A  piteous  tragedy  !  able  to  wake 

"  An  old  man's  eyes  blood-shot." 

Again,  in  The  Roaring  Girl,  1611 :  " I'll  ride  to  Oxford, 

and  watch  out  mine  eyes,  but  I'll  hear  the  brazen  head  speak." 

STEEVF.NS. 

Again,  as  Mr.  Steevens  has  observed  in  a  note  on  The  Rape 
of Lucrece: 

"  Here  she  exclaims  against  repose  and  rest; 

"  And  bids  her  eyes  hereafter  still  be  blind.1'    MALONE. 

*  To  be  unbent,"}  To  have  thy  bow  unbent,  alluding  to  ai> 
hunter.  JOHNSON.  •  • 


sc.  tr.  CYMBELINE. 

The  elected  deer  before  thee  ?* 

Pis.  But  to  win  time 

To  lose  so  bad  employment :  in  the  which 
I  have  consider'd  of  a  course ;  Good  lady, 
Hear  me  with  patience. 

IMO.  Talk  thy  tongue  weary  ;  speak : 

I  have  heard,  I  am  a  strumpet ;  and  mine  ear, 
Therein  false  struck,  can  take  no  greater  wound, 
Nor  tent  to  bottom  that.     But  speak. 

Pis.  Then,  madam, 

I  thought  you  would  not  back  again. 

IMO.  Most  like  j 

Bringing  me  here  to  kill  me* 

Pis.  Not  so,  neither ; 

But  if  I  were  as  wise  as  honest,  then 
My  purpose  would  prove  well.    It  cannot  be, 
But  that  my  master  is  abus'd  : 
Some  villain,  ay,  and  singular  in  his  art, 
Hath  done  you  both  this  cursed  injury. 

IMO.  Some  Roman  courtezan. 

Pis.  No,  on  my  life. 

I'll  give  but  notice  you  are  dead,  and  send  him 
Some  bloody  sign  of  it ;  for  'tis  commanded 
I  should  do  so :  You  shall  be  miss'd  at  court, 
And  that  will  well  confirm  it. 

IMO.  Why,  good  fellow, 

What  shall  I  do  the  while?  Where  bide?  How  live? 
Or  in  my  life  what  comfort,  when  I  am 


4 taken  thou  hast  ta'en  thy  stand, 

The  elected  deer  before  thee  ?~\     So,  in  one  of  our  author's 
poems,  Passionate  Pilgrim,  1599  : 

"  When  as  thine  eye  hath  chose  the  dame, 

"  And  stall' d  the  deer  that  thou  shoutt'st  strike." 

MALONE. 
2  M  2 


CYMBELIN&  ACT  in. 

Dead  to  my  husband  ? 
•  PlS.  If  you'll  back  to  the  court, — - 

IMO.  No  court,  no  father ;  nor  no  more  ado 
With  that  harsh,  noble,  simple,  nothing:5 
That  Cloten,  whose  love-suit  hath  been  to  me 
As  fearful  as  a  siege. 

Pis.  If  not  at  court, 

Then  not  in  Britain  must  you  bide. 

IMO.  Where  then  ?6 

Hath  Britain  all  the  sun  that  shines?7  Day,  night, 

-Vlii.   VT 

5  With  that  harsh,  noble,  &c.J    Some  epithet  of  two  syllables 

has  here  been  omitted  by  the  compositor ;  for  which,  having  but 
one  copy,  it  is  now  vain  to  seek.     MALONE, 

Perhaps  the  poet  \vrpte:  • 

^  With  that  harsh,  noble,  simple,  nothing,  Cloten  ; 
That  Cloten,  &c.     STEEVENS. 

*  Where  then?~\-  Hanmer  ha*  added  these  two  words  to 
Pisanio's  speech.  MALONE. 

7  Where  then? 

Hath  Britain  all  the  sun  that  shines?']  The  rest  of  Imo- 
sen-s.  speech  induces  me  to  think  that  we  ought  to  read  "  What 
then  ?"  instead  of  "  Where  then  ?"  The  reason  of  the  change 
is  evident.  M.  MASON. 

Perhaps  Imogen  silently  answers  her  own  question :  "  any 
where.  .  Hath  Britain"  &c. 

Shakspeare  seems  here  to  have  had  in  his  thoughts  a  passage 
in  Lyly's  Euphues,  1580,  which  he  has  imitated  in  K.  Richard  II: 
:a  Nature  hath  given  to  man  a  country  no  more  than  she  hath 
house,  or  lands,  or  living.  Plato  would  never  account  him 
banished,  that  had  the  sunne,  ayre,  water,  and  earth,  that  he 
had  before ;  where  he  felt  the  winter's  blast,  and  the  summer's 
blaze  ;  where  the  same  sunne  and  the  same  moone  shined ; 
whereby  he  noted,  that  every  place  was  a  country  to  a  wise  man, 
and  all  parts  a  palace  to  a  quiet  mind.  But  thou  art  driven 'out 
j&f:  Naples:  that  is  nothing.  All  the  Athenians  dwell  not  in 
Colliton,  nor  every  Corinthian  in  Greece,  nor  all  the  Lacedemo- 
nians in  Pitania.  How  can  any  part  of  the  world  be  distant  far 
from  the  other,  when  as  the  mathematicians  set  downe  that  the 
earth  is  but  a  point  compared  to  the  heavens  ?"  MALOXE. 


sc*  IT.  CYMBELINF. 

Are  they  not  but  in  Britain  ?  Fthe  world's  volume 
Our  Britain  seems  as  of  it,  but  not  in  it ; 
In  a  great  pool,  a  swan's  nest ;  Pr'ythee,  think 
There's  livers  out  of  Britain.8 

Pis.  ,  I  am  most  glad 

You  think  of  other  place.     The  embassador, 
Lucius  the  Roman,  comes  to  Milford- Haven 
To-morrow :  Now,  if  you  could  wear  a  mind 
Dark  as  your  fortune  is  ;•'  and  but  disguise 
That,  which,  to  appear  itself,  must  not  yet  be, 
But  by  self-danger ;  you  should  tread  a  course 
Pretty,  and  full  of  view : l  yea,  haply,  near 
The  residence  of  Posthumus  :  so  nigh,  at  least, 
That  though  his  actions  were  not  visible,  yet 
Report  should  render  him  hourly  to  your  ear, 
As  truly  as  he  moves. 

IMO.  O,  for  such  means ! 

Though  peril  to  my  modesty,2  not  death  on% 
I  would  adventure. 


s  There's  livers  out  of  Britain.']     So,  in  Coriolanus;  .      . 
"  There  is  a  world  elsewhere."     STEEVENS. 

9 Now,  if  you  could  wear  a  mind 

Dark  as  your  fortune  is;~]  To  wear  a  dark  mind,  is  to  carry 
a  mind  impenetrable  to  the  search  of  others.  Darkness,  applied 
to  the  mind,  is  secrecy ;  applied  to  the  fortune,  is  obscurity. 
The  next  lines  are  obscure.  You  must,  says  Pisanio,  disguise, 
that  greatness,  'which,  to  appear  hereafter  in  its  proper  form^ 
cannot  yet  appear  without  great  danger  to  itself.  JOHNSON. 

1 -full  of  vietv:']     With  opportunities  of  examining  your 

affairs  with  your  own  eyes.     JOHNSON. 

Full  of  view  may  mean — affording  an  ample  prospect,  a  cdm- 
plete  opportunity  of  discerning  circumstances  which  it  is  your 
interest  to  know.  Thus,  in  Pericles,  "  Full  of  face"  appears 
to  signify — amply  beautiful;  and  Duncan  assures  Banquo  that 
he  will  labour  to  make  him  "full  of  growing,"  i.  e.  of  ample 
growth.  STEEVENS. 

2  Though  peril  to  my  modesty,']     I  read — Through  peril.    / 


534  CYMBELINE.  ACTIUI 

Pis.  Well  then,  here's  the  point : 

You  must  forget  to  be  a  woman  ;  change 
Command  into  obedience  j  fear,  and  niceness, 
(The  handmaids  of  all  women,  or,  more  truly, 
Woman  its  pretty  self,)  to3  a  waggish  courage; 
Ready  in  gibes,  quick-answer'd,  saucy,  and 
As  quarrellous  as  the  weasel  :*  nay,  you  must 
Forget  that  rarest  treasure  of  your  cheek, 
Exposing  it  (but,  O,  the  harder  heart ! 
Alack,  no  remedy  I5)  to  the  greedy  touch 
Of  common-kissing  Titan  j6  and  forget 


would  for  such  means  adventure  through  peril  of  modesty;  I 
would  risque  every  thing  but  real  dishonour.     JOHNSON. 

3 to — ]    Old  copies,  unmetrically, — into.     STEEVENS. 

4  As  quarrellous  as  the  weasel :]   So,  in  King  Henry  IV.  P.  I: 
"  A  weasel  hath  not  such  a  deal  of  spleen 
"  As  you  are  toss'd  with." 

This  character  of  the  weasel  is  not  warranted  by  naturalists. 
Weasels,  however,  were  formerly  kept  in  houses  instead  of  cats, 
for  the  purpose  of  killing  vermin.     So,  Phaedrus,  IV.  i.  10 : 
"  Mustela,  quum  annis  et  senecta  debilis, 
"  lyiures  veloces  non  valeret  adsequi." 
Again,  Lib.  IV.  5.  3. 

"  Quum  victi  mures  mustelarum  exercitu — 
"  Fugerent,"  &c. 

Our  poet,  therefore,  while  a  boy,  might  have  had  frequent 
opportunities  to  ascertain  their  disposition.  In  Congreve's  Love 
Jbr  Love,  (the  scene  of  which  is  in  London,)  old  Foresight  talks 
of  having  "  met  a  weasel."  It  would  now  be  difficult  to  find 
«ne  at  liberty  throughout  the  whole  county  of  Middlesex. 
"  Frivola  h«c  fortassis  cuipiam  et  nimis  levia  esse  videantur,  sed 
curiositas  nihil  recusat."  Vopiscus  in  Vita  Aureliani,  c.  x. 

STEEVENS. 

9  Exposing  it  (but,  0,  the  harder  heart! 

Alack,  no  remedy!)']  I  think  it  very  natural  to  reflect  in 
this  distress  on  the  cruelty  of  Posthumus.  Dr.  Warburton  pro- 
poses to  read : 

the  harder  hap !     JOHNSON. 

a common-kissing  Titan ;]     Thus,  in  Othello: 

"  The  bawdy  wind  that  kisses  all  it  meets-—  • ." 


sc.  ir.  CYMBELINE.  535, 

Your  laboursome  and  dainty  trims,  wherein 
You  made  great  Juno  angry. 

I  MO.  Nay,  be  brief: 

I  see  into  thy  end,  and  am  almost 
A  man  already. 

Pis.  First,  make  yourself  but  like  one. 

Fore-thinking  this,  I  have  already  fit, 
('Tis  in  my  cloak-bag,)  doublet,  hat,  hose,  all 
That  answer  to  them :  Would  you,  in  their  serving, 
And  with  what  imitation  you  can  borrow 
From  youth  of  such  a  season,  'fore  noble  Lucius 
Present  yourself,  desire  his  service,  tell  him 
Wherein  you  are  happy,7  (which  you'll  make  him 

know,8 

If  that  his  head  have  ear  in  musick,)  doubtless, 
With  joy  he  will  embrace  you;  for  he's  honourable, 
And,  doubling  that,  most  holy.  Your  means  abroad9 


Again,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia,  Lib.  Ill:  "-  -  and  beautiful! 
might  have  been,  if  they  had  not  suffered  greedy  Phoebus,  over- 
often  and  hard,  to  kisse  them."  STEEVENS. 

7  Wherein  you  are  happy,]     i.  e.  wherein  you  are  accomplish' 
ed.     STEEVENS. 

8  -  ivhich  you'll  make  him  know,]     This  is  Sir  T.  Hau- 
nter's reading.    The  common  books  have  it  : 

-  which  will  make  him  know,  -  . 

Mr.  Theobald,  in  one  of  his  long  notes,  endeavours  to  prove 
that  it  should  be  : 

-  ivhich  will  make  him  so,  - 

He  is  followed  by  Dr.  Warburton.    JOHNSON. 

The  words  were  probably  written  at  length  in  the  manuscript, 
you  toill,  and  you  omitted  at  the  press  :  or  will  was  printed  for 
MALONE. 


9-  -  Your  means  abroad  &c.]  As  for  your  subsistence 
abroad,  you  may  rely  on  me.  So,  in  sc.  v  :  "  -  thou  should'st 
aeither  want  my  means  for  thy  relief,  nor  my  voice  for  thy  pre- 
ferment." MALONE. 


536  CYMBELINE.  ACTIIT. 

You  have  me,  rich  ;  and  I  will  never  fail 
Beginning,  nor  supplyment. 

I  MO.  Thou  art  all  the  comfort 

The  gods  will  diet  me  with.1     IVythee,  away : 
There's  more  to  be  consider'd ;  but  we'll  even 
All  that  good  time  will  give  us  :2  This  attempt 
I'm  soldier  to,3  and  will  abide  it  with 
A  prince's  courage.     Away,  I  pr'ythee. 

Pis.  Well,  madam,  we  must  take  a  short  fare- 
well ; 

Lest,  being  miss'd,  I  be  suspected  of 
Your  carriage  from  the  court.     My  noble  mistress, 
Here  is  a  box :  I  had  it  from  the  queen  ;4 
What's  in't  is  precious ;  if  you  are  sick  at  sea, 
Or  stomach-qualm'd  at  land,  a  dram  of  this 
Will  drive  away  distemper. — To  some  shade, 


1  —  diet  me  iuith.~\  Alluding  to  the  spare  regimen  pre- 
scribed in  some  diseases.  So,  in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  : 
" to  fast,  like  one  that  takes  diet."  STEEVENS. 

» we'll  even  .  . 

All  that  good  time  will  give  us .-]  We'll  make  our  work- 
even  with  our  lime;  we'll  do  what  time  will  allow.  JOHNSON. 

3 This  attempt 

Pm  soldier  to,]  i.  e.  I  have  inlisted  and  bound  myself  to  it. 

WARBURTOK. 

Rather,  I  think,  I  am  equal  to  this  attempt ;  I  have  enough  of 
ardour  to  undertake  it.  MALONE. 

Mr.  Malone's  explanation  is  undoubtedly  just.  Pm  soldier  tot 
is  equivalent  to  the  modern  cant  phrase — /  am  up  to  it,  i.  e.  I 
have  ability  for  it.  STEEVENS. 

4  Here  is  a  box :  /  had  it  from  the  queen ;]  Instead  of  this  box, 
the  modern  editors  have  in  a  former  scene  made  the  Queen  give 
Pisanio  a  vial,  which  is  dropped  on  the  stage,  without  being 
broken.  See  Act  I.  sc.  vi. 

In  Pericles,  Cerimon,  in  order  to  recover  Thaisa,  calls  foraU 
the  boxes  in  his  closet.  MALONE. 


sc.r.  CYMBELINE.,  537 

And  fit  you  to  your  manhood :— May  the  gods 
Direct  you  to  the  best ! 

IMO.  Amen :  I  thank  thee» 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  V. 

A  Room  in  Cymbeline's  Palace. 

Enter    CYMBELINE,    Queen,     CLOTEN,    Lucius, 
and  Lords. 

CYM.  Thus  far  ;  and  so  farewell. 

Luc.  Thanks,  royal  sir. 

My  emperor  hath  wrote  ;  I  must  from  hence  j 
And  am  right  sorry,  that  I  must  report  ye 
My  master's  enemy. 

CYM.  Our  subjects,  sir, 

Will  not  endure  his  yoke ;  and  for  ourself 
To  show  less  sovereignty  than  they,  must  needs 
Appear  unkinglike. 

Luc.  So,  sir,  I  desire  of  you5 

A  conduct  over  land,  to  Milford- Haven. — 
Madam,  all  joy  befal  your  grace,  and  you  !6 

4  &o,  sir,  I  desire  of  you — ]  The  two  last  words  are,  in  my 
opinion,  very  properly  omitted  by  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  as  they 
only  serve  to  derange  the  metre.  STEEVENS. 

6 all  joy  befal  your  grace,  and  you/']    I  think  we  should 

read — his  grace,  and  you.     MALONE. 

Perhaps  our  author  wrote : 

your  grace,  and  yours  ! 

j.  e.  your  relatives.     So,  in  Macbeth: 

*'  And  beggar'd  yours  for  ever."     STEEVENS. 


538  CYMBELINE.  ACT  im 

CYM.  My  lords,  you  are  appointed  for  that  of- 
fice ; 

The  due  of  honour  in  no  point  omit : — 
So,  farewell,  noble  Lucius. 

Luc.  Your  hand,  my  lord. 

CLO.  Receive  it  friendly :   but  from  this  time 

forth 
I  wear  it  as  your  enemy. 

Luc.  Sir,  the  event 

Is  yet  to  name  the  winner  :  Fare  you  well. 

CYM.  Leave  not  the  worthy  Lucius,  good  my 

lords, 
Till  he  have  cross'd  the  Severn. — Happiness  ! 

[Exeunt  Lucius,  and  Lords. 

QUEEN.  He  goes  hence  frowning:  but  it  honours 

us, 
That  we  have  given  him  cause. 

CLO.  'Tis  all  the  better ; 

Your  valiant  Britons  have  their  wishes  in  it. 

CYM.  Lucius  hath  wrote  already  to  the  emperor 
How  it  goes  here.     It  fits  us  therefore,  ripely, 
Our  chariots  and  our  horsemen  be  in  readiness : 
The  powers  that  he  already  hath  in  Gallia 
Will  soon  be  drawn  to  head,    from  whence  he 

moves 
His  war  for  Britain. 

QUEEN.  'Tis  not  sleepy  business ; 

But  must  be  look'd  to  speedily,  and  strongly. 

CYM.  Our  expectation  that  it  would  be  thus, 
Hath  made  us  forward.     But,  my  gentle  queen, 
Where  is  our  daughter  ?  She  hath  not  appeared 
Before  the  Roman,  nor  to  us  hath  tender'd 
The  duty  of  the  day :  She  looks  us  like 
A  thing  more  made  of  malice,  than  of  duty : 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  £39 

We  have  noted  it. — Call  her  before  us ;  for 
We  have  been  too  slight  in  sufferance. 

{Exit  an  Attendant. 

QUEEN.  Royal  sir, 

Since  the  exile  of  Posthumus,  most  retir'd 
Hath  her  life  been  ;  the  cure  whereof,  my  lord, 
'Tis  time  must  do.     'Beseech  your  majesty, 
Forbear  sharp  speeches  to  her :  She's  a  lady 
So  tender  of  rebukes,  that  words  are  strokes, 
And  strokes  death  to  her. 


Re-enter  an  Attendant. 

CYM.  Where  is  she,  sir  ?  How 

Can  her  contempt  be  answered  ? 

ATTEN.  Please  you,  sir, 

Her  chambers  are  alllock'd;  and  there's  no  answer 
That  will  be  given  to  the  loud'st  of  noise  we  make. 

QUEEN.  My  lord,  when  last  I  went  to  visit  her, 
She  pray'd  me  to  excuse  her  keeping  close ; 
Whereto  constrain'd  by  her  infirmity, 
She  should  that  duty  leave  unpaid  to  you, 
Which  daily  she  was  bound  to  proffer :  this 
She  wish'd  me  to  make  known;  but  our  great  court 
Made  me  to  blame  in  memory. 

CYM.  Her  doors  lock'd  ? 

Not  seen  of  late?  Grant,  heavens,  that,  which  I 

fear, 
Prove  false !  [Exit. 

QUEEN.      Son,  I  say,  follow  the  king.7 


*  Son,  I  saytjblloiu  the  king."]    Some  word  necessary  to  the 
metre,  is  here  omitted.     We  might  read  : 

Go,  son,  I  say;  follow  the  king.    STEEVENS. 


540  CYMBELINE. 

CLO.  That  man  of  hers,  Pisanio,  her  old  servant, 
I  have  not  seen  these  two  days. 

QUEEAT.  Go,  look  after. — 

[Exit  CLOTEN. 

Pisanio,  thou  that  stand'st  so  for  Posthumus ! — 
He  hath  a  drug  of  mine:  I  pray,  his  absence 
Proceed  by  swallowing  that ;  for  he  believes 
It  is  a  thing  most  precious.     But  for  her, 
Where  is  she  gone  ?  Haply,  despair  hath  seiz'd  her ; 
Or,  wing'd  with  fervour  of  her  love,  she's  flown 
To  her  desir'd  Posthumus :  Gone  she  is 
To  death,  or  to  dishonour ;  and  my  end 
Can  make  good  use  of  either :  She  being  down, 
I  have  the  placing  of  the  British  crown. 

Re-enter  CLOTEN. 

How  now,  my  son  ? 

CLO.  JTis  certain,  she  is  fled  : 

Go  in,  and  cheer  the  king ;  he  rages  j  none 
Dare  come  about  him. 

QUEEN.  All  the  better :  May 

This  night  forestall  him  of  the  coming  day ! 8 

[Exit  Queen. 

CLO.  I  love,  and  hate  her :  for  she's  fair  and 

royal ; 

And  that  she  hath  all  courtly  parts  more  exquisite 
Than  lady,  ladies,  woman ; 9  from  every  one 


Mail 


This  night  forestall  him  of  the  coming  day  !"]    i.'e.  May  his 
grief  this  night  prevent  him  from  ever  seeing  another  day,  by  an 
anticipated  and  premature  destruction !  So,  in  Milton's  Masque: 
"  Perhaps  fore-stalling  night  prevented  them." 

MALONE. 

•  And  that  she  hath  all  courtly  parts  more  exquisite  .  • 

Than  lady,  ladies,  woman;}  She  has  all  courtly  parts,  say* 


JBP.T:.:-.  CYMBELINE.  .541 

The  best  she  hath,1  and  she,  of  all  compounded, 

Outsells  them  all :  I  love  her  therefore ;  But, 

Disdaining  me,  and  throwing  favours  on 

The  low  Posthumus,  slanders  so  her  judgment, 

That  what's  else  rare,  is  chok'd ;  and,  in  that  point, 

I  will  conclude  to  hate  her,  nay,  indeed, 

To  be  reveng'd  upon  her.     For,  when  fools 

Enter  PISANIO. 

Shall — Who  is  here?   What!   are  you  packing, 

sirrah  ? 

Come  hither :  Ah,  you  precious  pandar !  Villain, 
Where  is  thy  lady  ?  In  a  word ;  or  else 
Thou  art  straightway  with  the  fiends. 

Pis.  O,  good  my  lord ! 

CLO.  Where  is  thy  lady  ?  or,  by  Jupiter 
I  will  not  ask  again.     Close  villain,2 
.I'll  have  this  secret  from  thy  heart,  or  rip 
Thy  heart  to  find  it.     Is  she  with  Posthumus  ? 
From  whose  so  many  weights  of  baseness  cannot 
A  dram  of  worth  be  drawn. 

.    Pis.  Alas,  my  lord, 


he,  more  exquisite  than  any  lady,  than  all  ladies,  than  all  woman* 
kind.     JOHNSON. 

There  is  a  similar  passage  in  All's  'well  that  ends  "well,  Act  II. 
sc.  iii:  ".To  any  count;  to  all  counts;  to  what  is  man."     - 

TOLLET. 

-from  every  one 


The  best  she  hath,']     So,, in  The  Tempest: 

" but  you,  O  you, 

"  So  perfect  and  so  peerless,  are  created 
"  Of  every  creature's  best."     MALONE. 

* Close  villain,']     A  syllable  being  here  wanting  to  com- 
plete the  measure,  perhaps  we  ought  to  read : 

Close  villain,  thou, .     STEEVEXS. 


542  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

How  can  she  be  with  him  ?  When  was  she  miss'd  ? 
He  is  in  Rome. 

CLO.  Where  is  she,  sir  ?  Come  nearer ; 

No  further  halting :  satisfy  me  home, 
What  is  become  of  her  ? 

Pis.  O,  my  all- worthy  lord ! 

CLO.  All-worthy  villain ! 

Discover  where  thy  mistress  is,  at  once, 
At  the  next  word, — No  more  of  worthy  lord, — 
Speak,  or  thy  silence  on  the  instant  is 
Thy  condemnation  and  thy  death. 

Pis.  Then,  sir, 

This  paper  is  the  history  of  my  knowledge 
Touching  her  flight.  [Presenting  a  Letter* 

CLO.  Let's  see't : — I  will  pursue  her 

Even  to  Augustus*  throne. 

Pis.  Or  this,  or  perish.3 "] 

She's  far  enough ;  and  what  he  learns  by  I    >  • , 

May  prove  his  travel,  not  her  danger.        J 


3  Or  this,  or  perish."]    These  words,  I  think,  belong  to  Cloten, 

who  requiring  the  paper,  says : 

Let's  see't: — /  will  pursue  her 

Even  to  Augustus'  throne.     Or  this,  or  perish. 

Then  Pisanio  giving  the  paper,  says  to  himself: 
She' s  far  enough;  &c.     JOHNSON. 

I  own  I  am  of  a  different  opinion.  Or  this,  or  perish,  properly 
belongs  to  Pisanio,  who  says  to  himself,  as  he  gives  the  paper 
into  the  hands  of  Cloten,  /  must  either  give  it  him  freely,  or 
perish  in  my  attempt  to  keep  it;  or  else  the  words  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  reply  to  Cloten's  boast  of  following  her  to  the  throne 
of  Augustus,  and  are  added  slily :  You  will  either  do  what  you 
say,  or  perish,  which  is  the  more  probable  of  the  two. — The  sub- 
sequent remark,  however,  of  Mr.  Henley,  has  taught  me  dif- 
fidence in  my  attempt  to  justify  the  arrangement  of  the  old 
copies.  STEEVENS. 


sc.r.  CYMBELINE.  543 

CLO.  Humph  ! 

Pis.  I'll  write  to  my  lord  she's  dea.d.  O  Imogen, 
Safe  may'st  thou  wander,  safe  return  again  ! 


CLO.  Sirrah,  is  this  letter  true  ? 

Pis.  Sir,  as  I  think. 

CLO.  It  is  Posthumus*  hand  ;  I  know't.—  Sirrah, 
if  thou  would*  st  not  be  a  villain,  but  do  me  true 
service  ;  undergo  those  employments,  wherein  I 
should  have  cause  to  use  thee,  with  a  serious  indus- 
try, —  that  is,  what  villainy  soe'er  I  bid  thee  do,  to 
perform  it,  directly  and  truly,  —  I  would  think  thee 
an  honest  man:  thou  shouldest  neither  want  my 
means  for  thy  relief,  nor  my  voice  for  thy  prefer- 
ment. 

Pis.  Well,  my  good  lord. 

CLO.  Wilt  thou  serve  me?  For  since  patiently 


I  cannot  but  think  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  right,  from  the  ac- 
count of  this  transaction  Pisanio  afterwards  gave : 

" Lord  Cloten, 

"  Upon  my  lady's  missing,  came  to  me, 

"  With  his  sword  drawn ;  foam'd  at  the  mouth,  and 

swore 

*'  If  I  discovered  not  which  way  she  was  gone, 
*'  It  tvas  my  instant  death :  By  accident, 
"  I  had  a  feigned  letter  of  my  master's 
'*  Then  in  my  pocket,  which  directed  him 
"  To  seek  her  on  the  mountains  near  to  Milford." 
But  if  the  words,  Or  this,  or  perish,  belong  to  Pisanio  as  the  let- 
ter was  feigned,  they  must  have  been  spoken  out,  not  aside. 

HENLET. 

Cloten  knew  not,  till  it  was  tendered,  that  Pisanio  had  such  a 
letter  as  he  now  presents ;  there  could  therefore  be  no  question 
concerning  his  giving  it  freely  or  ivith-holding  it. 

These  words,  in  my  opinion,  relate  to  Pisanio's  present  con- 
duct, and  they  mean,  I  think,  "  I  must  either  practise  this  de- 
ceit upon  Cloten,  or  perish  by  his  fury."  MA  LONE. 


544  CYJVIBELINE;          ACTHT. 

and  constantly  thou  hast  stuck  to  the  bare  fortune 
of  that  beggar  Posthumus,  thou  canst  not  in  the 
course  of  gratitude  but  be  a  diligent  follower  of 
mine.  Wilt  thou  serve  me  ? 

Pis.  Sir,  I  will. 

CLO.  Give  me  thy  hand,  here's  my  purse.  Hast 
any  of  thy  late  master's  garments  in  thy  possession? 

Pis.  I  have,  my  lord,  at  my  lodging,  the  same 
suit  he  wore  when  he  took  leave  of  my  lady  and 
mistress. 

Ciib.  The  first  service  thou  dost  me,  fetch  that 
suit  hither  :  let  it  be  thy  first  service ;  go. 

Pis.  I  shall,  my  lord.  [Exit. 

CLO.  Meet  thee  at  Milford-Haven  : — I  forgot  to 
ask  him  one  thing ;  I'll  remember't  anon  : — Even 
there  thou  villain,  Posthumus,  will  I  kill  thee. — I 
would,  these  garments  were  come.  She  said  upon 
a  time,  (the  bitterness  of  it  I  now  belch  from  my 
heart,)  that  she  held  the  very  garment  of  Posthu- 
mus in  more  respect  than  my  noble  and  natural 
person,  together  with  the  adornment  of  my  quali- 
ties. With  that  suit  upon  my  back,  will  I  ravish 
her :  First  kill  him,  and  in  her  eyes ;  there  shall 
she  see  my  valour,  which  will  then  be  a  torment  to 
her  contempt.  He  on  the  ground,  my  speech  of 
insultment  ended  on  his  dead  body, — andwhen  my 
lust  hath  dined,  (which,  as  I  say,  to  vex  her,  I  will 
execute  in  the  clothes  that  she  so  praised,)  to  the 
court  I'll  knock  her  back,  foot  her  home  again. 
She  hath  despised  me  rejoicingly,  and  I'll  be  merry 
in  my  revenge. 


K.  v.  CYMBELINE.  545 


He-enter  PISANIO,  with  the  Clothes. 

Be  those  the  garments  ? 
Pis.  Ay,  my  noble  lord. 

CLO.  How  long  is't  since  she  went  to  Milfbrd- 
Haven  ? 

Pis.  She  can  scarce  be  there  yet. 

CLO.  Bring  this  apparel  to  my  chamber ;  that  is 
the  second  thing  that  1  have  commanded  thee  :  the 
third  is,  that  thou  shalt  be  a  voluntary  mute  to  my 
design.  Be  but  duteous,  and  true  preferment  shall 
tender  itself  to  thee. — My  revenge  is  now  at  Mil- 
ford;  'Would  I  had  wings  to  follow  it! — Come, 
and  be  true.  \_Exit. 

Pis.  Thou  bidd'st  me  to  my  loss :  for,  true  to 

thee, 

Were  to  prove  false,  which  I  will  never  be, 
To  him  that  is  most  true.4 — To  Milford  go, 
And  rind  not  her  whom  thou  pursu'st.    Flow,  flow, 
You  heavenly  blessings,  on  her !  This  fool's  speed 
Be  cross'd  with  slowness ;  labour  be  his  meed ! 

[Exit. 

*  To  him  that  is  most  true.]  Pisanio,  notwithstanding  his 
master's  letter,  commanding  the  murder  of  Imogen,  considers 
him  as  true,  supposing,  as  he  has  already  said  to  her,  that  Post- 
humus  was  abused  by  some  villain,  equally  an  enemy  to  them 
both.  MALONE. 


VOL.  XVIII. 


546  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

SCENE  VI. 

Before  the  Cave  o/'Belarius. 
Enter  IMOGEN,  in  Boy's  Clothes. 

I  MO.  I  see,  a  man's  life  is  a  tedious  one  : 
I  have  tir'd  myself;  and  for  two  nights  together 
Have  made  the  ground  my  bed.     I  should  be  sick, 
But  that  my  resolution  helps  me.  —  Milford, 
When  from  the  mountain-top  Pisanio  show'd  thee, 
Thou  wast  within  a  ken  :  O  Jove  !  I  think, 
Foundations  fly  the  wretched  :5  such,  I  mean, 
Where  they  should  be  relieved.     Two  beggars  told 

me, 

I  could  not  miss  my  way  :  Will  poor  folks  lie, 
That  have  afflictions  on  them  ;  knowing  'tis 
A  punishment,  or  trial?  Yes;  no  wonder, 
When  rich  ones  scarce  tell  true  :   To  lapse  in  ful- 

ness 

Is  sorer,6  than  to  lie  for  need  ;  and  falsehood 
Is  worse  in  kings,  than  beggars.  —  My  dear  lord  ! 
Thou  art  one  o'the  false  ones:  Now  I  think  on 

thee, 

My  hunger's  gone  ;  but  even  before,  I  was 
At  point  to  sink  for  food.  —  But  what  is  this  ? 
Here  is  a  path  to  it  :  'Tis  some  savage  hold  : 
I  were  best  not  call  ;7  I  dare  not  call  :  yet  famine, 

*  Foundations  fly  the  wretched:"]     Thus,  in  the  fifth  Mntid; 
"  Italiam  seuimuri/zVntem."     STEEVENS. 


'  Is  sorer,]  Is  a  greater,  or  heavier  crime.    JOHNSON. 

7  I  were  best  not  call;~\  Mr.  Pope  was  so  little  acquainted  with 
the  language  of  Shakspeare's  age,  that  instead  of  this  the  original 
reading,  he  substituted  —  'Twere  best  not  call.  MALONE. 


so.  vi.  CYMBELINE.  547 

Ere  clean  it  o'erthrow  nature,  makes  it  valiant. 
Plenty,  and  peace,  breeds  cowards ;  hardness  ever 
Of  hardiness  is  mother.-— Ho !  who's  here  ? 
If  any  thing  that's  civil,8  speak ;  if  savage, 
Take,  or  lend.9 — Ho! — No  answer?  then  I'll  enter. 


•  If  any  thing  that's  civil,]  Civil  t  for  human  creature. 

WARBURTON. 

9  If  any  thing  that's  civil,  speak;  if  savage, 

Take,  or  lend.]     I  question  whether,  after  the  words,  if 
savage,  a  line  be  not  lost.    I  can  offer  nothing  better  than  to  read: 

i  Ho  !  who's  here? 

If  any  thing  that's  civil,  take  or  lend, 

If  savage,  speak. 

If  you  are  civilised  and  peaceable,  take  a  price  for  what  I  want, 
or  lend  it  for  a  future  recompense  ;  if  you  are  rough  inhospita- 
ble inhabitants  of  the  mountain,  spealc,  that  I  may  know  my 
state.  JOHNSON. 

It  is  by  no  means  necessary  to  suppose  that  savage  hold  signi- 
fies the  habitation  of  a  beast.  It  may  as  well  be  used  for  the  cave 
of  a  savage,  or  wild  man,  who,  in  the  romances  of  the  time,  were 
represented  as  residing  in  the  woods,  like  the  famous  Orson, 
Bremo  in  the  play  of  Mucedorus,  or  the  savage  in  the  seventh 
canto  of  the  fourth  Book  of  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  and  the  sixth 
B.  c.  4.  STEEVENS. 

Steevens  is  right  in  supposing  that  the  word  savage  does  not 
mean,  in  this  place,  a  wild  beast,  but  a  brutish  man,  and  in 
that  sense  it  is  opposed  to  civil:  in  the  former  sense,  the  word 
human  would  have  been  opposed  to  it,  not  civil.  So,  in  the 
next  Act,  Imogen  says : 

"  Our  courtiers  say,  all's  savage  but  at  court." 
And  in  As  you  like  it,  Orlando  says : 

"  I  thought  that  all  things  had  been  savage  here." 

M.  MASON. 

The  meaning,  I  think,  is,  If  any  one  resides  here  that  is  ac- 
customed to  the  modes  of  civil  life,  answer  me  ;  but  if  this  be 
the  habitation  of  a  wild  and  uncultivated  man,  or  of  one  banished 
from  society,  that  will  enter  into  no  converse,  let  him  at  least 
silently  furnish  me  with  enough  to  support  me,  accepting  a  price 
for  it,  or  giving  it  to  me  without  a  price,  in  consideration  of 
future  recompense.  Dr.  Johnson's  interpretation  of  the  words 
take,  or  lend,  is  supported  by  what  Imogen  says  afterwards : 

2  N  2 


.548  CYMBELINE.  ACT  in. 

Best  draw  my  sword  ; '  and  if  mine  enemy 

But  fear  the  sword  like  me,  he'll  scarcely  look  on't. 

Such  a  foe,  good  heavens ! 

[She  goes  into  the  Cave. 

Enter  BELARIUS,  GUIDERIUS,  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

BEL.  You,  Polydore,  have  prov'd  best  woodman,8 

and 

Are  master  of  the  feast:  Cadwal,  and  I, 
Will  play  the  cook  and  servant ;  'tis  our  match  :* 
The  sweat  of  industry  would  dry,  and  die, 
But  for  the  end  it  works  to.     Come  ;  our  stomachs 
Will  make  what's  homely,  savoury :  Weariness 
Can  snore  upon  the  flint,  when  restive  sloth4 

"  Before  I  enter'd  here,  I  call'd ;  and  thought 
"  To  have  begg'd,  or  bought,  what  I  have  took." 
but  such  licentious  alterations  as  transferring  words  from  one 
line  to  another,  and  transposing  the  words  thus  transferred, 
ought,  in  my  apprehension,  never  to  be  admitted.     MALONE. 

1  Best  draw  my  sword ;]     As  elliptically,  Milton,  where  the 
2nd  brother  in  Comus  says : 

"  Best  draw,  and  stand  upon  our  guard."     STEEVENS. 

*  "woodman,]    A  W>odmant  in  its  common  acceptation 

(as  in  the  present  instance)  signifies  a  hunter.  For  the  particular 
and  original  meaning  of  the  word,  see  Mr.  Reed's  note  in  Mea- 
sure for  Measure,  Vol.  VI.  p.  372,  n.  8.  STEEVENS. 

So,  in  The  Rape  ofLucrece: 

. "  He  is  no  woodman  that  doth  bend  his  bow 
"  Against  a  poor  unseasonable, doe."     MALONE. 

1  'tis  our  match :]  i.  e.  our  compact.     See  p.  519, 1. 19. 

STEEVENS. 

4  1-  token  restive  sloth — ]     Resty  signified,  mouldy,  rank. 

See  Minsheu,  in  v.  The  word  is  yet  used  in  the  North.  Per- 
haps, however,  it  is  here  used  in  the  same  sense  in  which  it  is 
applied  to  a  horse.  MALONK. 

Restive,  in  the  present  instance,  I  believe,  means  unquiet, 
shifting  its  posture,  like  a  restive  horse.     STEEVENS. 


sc.vi.  CYMBELINE.  549 

Finds  the  down  pillow  hard. — Now,  peace  be  here, 
Poor  house,  that  keep'st  thyself! 

GUI.  I  am  throughly  weary. 

An v.  I  am  weak  with  toil,  yet  strong  in  appetite. 

GUI.  There  is  cold  meat  i'the  cave;  we'll  browze 

on  that, 
Whilst  what  we  have  kill'd  be  cook'd. 

BEL.  '  Stay ;  come  not  in  : 

[Looking  in. 

But  that  it  eats  our  victuals,  I  should  think 
Here  were  a  fairy. 

GUI.  What's  the  matter,  sir  ? 

BEL.  By  Jupiter,  an  angel !  or,  if  not, 
An  earthly  paragon ! 5 — Behold  divineness 
No  elder  than  a  boy ! 

Enter  IMOGEN. 

IMO.  Good  masters,  harm  me  not : 
Before  Lenter'd  here,  I  call'd ;  and  thought 
To  have  begg'd,  or  bought,  what  I  have  took: 

Good  troth, 
I  have  stolen  nought ;  nor  would  not,  though  I  had 

found 
Gold  strew'd  o'the  floor.6     Here's  money  for  my 

meat: 

I  would  have  left  it  on  the  board,  so  soon 
As  I  had  made  my  meal ;  and  parted7 

3  An  earthly  paragon  !~\  The  same  phrase  has  already  occurred 
in  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  :  • 

"  No ;  but  she  is  an  earthly  paragon."     STEEVENS. 

5  o'thejtfoor.]  Old  copy — i'the  floor.     Corrected  by  Sir 

T.  Hanmer.    MALONE. 

7       •    and  parted — ]     A  syllable  being  here  wanting  to  the 


550  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

With  prayers  for  the  provider. 

GUI.  Money,  youth  ? 

ARV.  All  gold  and  silver  rather  turn  to  dirt ! 
As  'tis  no  better  reckon'd,  but  of  those 
Who  worship  dirty  gods. 

IMO.  I  see,  you  are  angry : 

Know,  if  you  kill  me  for  my  fault,  I  should 
Have  died,  bad  I  not  made  it. 

BEL.  Whither  bound  ? 

IMO.  To  Milford- Haven,  sir.8 

BEL.  What  is  your  name  ? 

IMO.  Fidele,  sir :  I  have  a  kinsman,  who 
Is  bound  for  Italy ;  he  embark'd  at  Milford ; 
To  whom  being  going,  almost  spent  with  hunger, 
I  am  fallen  in  this  offence.9 

BEL.  Pr'ythee,  fair  youth, 

Think  us  no  churls ;  nor  measure  our  good  minds 
By  this  rude  place  we  live  in.    Well  encountered ! 
'Tis  almost  night :  you  shall  have  better  cheer 
Ere  you  depart ;  and  thanks,  to  stay  and  eat  it. — 
Boys,  bid  him  welcome. 

GUI.  Were  you  a  woman,  youth, 

I  should  woo  hard,  but  be  your  groom. — In  ho- 
nesty, 

measure,  we  might  read,  with  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer — and  parted 
thence.     STEEVENS. 

8 sir.~]     This  word,  which  is  deficient  in  the  old  copies, 

has  been  supplied  by  some  modern  editor,  for  the  sake  of  metre. 

STEEVENS. 

9  I  am  fatten  in  this  offence."]     In,  according  to  the  ancient 
mode  of  writing,  is  here  used  instead  of  Into.     Thus,  in  Othello  : 

"  Fallen  in  the  practice  of  a  cursed  slave." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  III: 

"  But  first,  I'll  turn  yon  fellow  in  his  grave." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  vi.  CYMBELINE.  551 

I  bid  for  you,  as  I'd  buy.1 

ARV.  I'll  make't  my  comfort, 

He  is  a  man ;  I'll  love  him  as  my  brother : — 
And  such  a  welcome  as  I'd  give  to  him, 
After  long  absence,  such  is  yours : — Most  welcome ! 
Be  sprightly,  for  you  fall  'mongst  friends. 

IMO.  'Mongst  friends ! 

If  brothers  ? — 'Would  it  had  been  so,  that' 

they 
Had  been  my  father's  sons !  then  had  my 

prize 

Been  less ;  and  so  more  equal  ballasting2 
To  thee,  Posthumus. 


Aside. 


1  I  should  woo  hardy  but  be  your  groom. — In  honesty, 

I  bid  for  you,  as  I'd  buy.~\  The  old  copy  reads — as  I  do 
buy.  The  correction  was  made  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  He  reads 
unnecessarily,  Fd  bid  for  you,  &c.  In  the  folio  the  line  is  thus 
pointed : 

/  should  woo  hard,  but  be  your  groom  in  honesty : 
I  bid  for  you,  &c.     MALONE. 

I  think  this  passage  might  be  better  read  thus : 

/  should  woo  hard,  but  be  your  groom. — In  honesty, 
I  bid  for  you,  as  I'd  buy. 

That  is,  I  should  woo  hard,  but  /  would  be  your  bridegroom. 

[And  when  I  say  that  I  should  woo  hard,  be  assured  that]  in 

honesty  I  bid  for  you,  only  at  the  rate  at  which  I  would  purchase 

you.     TYRWHITT. 

*  then  had  my  prize 

Been  less;  and  so  more  equal  ballasting — ~\  Sir  T.  Hanmer 
reads  plausibly,  but  without  necessity,  price  for  prize,  and  ba- 
lancing for  ballasting.  He  is  followed  by  Dr.  Warburton.  The 
meaning  is, — Had  I  been  less  a  prize,  I  should  not  have  been  too 
heavy  for  Posthumus.  JOHNSON. 

The  old  reading  is  undoubtedly  the  true  one.     So,  in  King 
Henry  VI.  P.  III. 

"  It  is  war's  prize  to  take  all  vantages." 
Again,  Ibidem : 

"  Methinks,  'tis  prize  enough  to  be  his  son." 
The  same  word  occurs  again  in  this  play  of  Cymbeliney  as  well 
as  in  Hamlet.    STEEVENS. 


552  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

BEL.  He  wrings  at  some  distress.3 

GUI.  'Would,  I  could  free't ! 

Anr.  Or  I ;  whatever  it  be, 

What  pain  it  cost,  what  danger !  Gods ! 

BEL.  Hark,  boys. 

£  Whispering. 

IMO.  Great  men, 

That  had  a  court  no  bigger  than  this  cave, 
That  did  attend  themselves,  and  had  the  virtue 
Which  their  own  conscience  seal'd  them, (laying  by 
That  nothing  gift  of  differing  multitudes,)4 

Between  price  and  prize  the  distinction  was  not  always  ob- 
served in  our  author's  time,  nor  is  it  at  this  day ;  for  who  has 
not  heard  persons  above  the  vulgar  confound  them,  and  talk  of 
high-priz'd  and  \o\v-priz'd  goods  ?  MALONE. 

The  sense  is,  then  had  the  prize  thou  hast  mastered  in  me  been 
less,  and  not  have  sunk  thee,  as  I  have  done,  by  over-lading 
thee.  HEATH. 

3  He  tarings  at  some  distress.]  i.  e.  writhes  with  anguish.  So, 
in  our  author's  Muck  Ado  about  Nothing: 

"  To  those  that  wring  under  the  load  of  sorrow." 
Again,  in  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife,  bl.  1. 

"  I  think  I  have  made  the  cullion  to  wring."  STEEVENS. 

4  That  nothing  gift  of  differing  multitudes,]     The  poet  must 
mean,  that  court,  that  obsequious  adoration,  which  the  shifting 
vulgar  pay  to  the  great,  is  a  tribute  of  no  price  or  value.     I  am 
persuaded  therefore  our  poet  coined  this  participle  from  the 
French  verb,  and  wrote : 

That  nothing  gift  qfdefermg  multitudes: 

i.  e.  obsequious,  paying  deference. Deferer,  Ceder  par  re- 
spect a  quelqu'un,  obeir,  condescendre,  &c. — Deferent,  civil,  re- 
spectueux,  &c.  Richelet.  THEOBALD. 

He  is  followed  by  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  and  Dr.  Warburton  ; 
but  I  do  not  see  why  differing  may  not  be  a  general  epithet,  and 
the  expression  equivalent  to  the  many-headed  rabble.  JOHNSON. 

It  certainly  may ;  but  then  nothing  is  predicated  of  the  many- 
headed  multitude,  unless  we  supply  words  that  the  text  does  not 
exhibit,  "  That  worthless  boon  of  the  differing  or  many-headed 
multitude,  [attending  upon  them,  and  paying  their  court  to 


sc.vi.  CYMBELINE.  555 

Could  not  out-peer  these  twain.    Pardon  me,  gods  I 
I'd  change  my  sex  to  be  companion  with  them, 
Since  Leonatus  false.5 

BEL.  It  shall  be  so : 

Boys,  we'll  go  dress  our  hunt. — Fair  youth,  come 

in : 
Discourse  is  heavy,  fasting  j  when  we  have  supp'd, 

them ;  ]  "  or  suppose  the  whole  line  to  be  a  periphrasis  for  adu- 
lation or  obeisance. 

There  was  no  such  word  as  defering  or  deferring  in  Shak- 
speare's  time.  "  Deferer  a  une  compaigne,"  Cotgrave,  in  his 
Dictionary,  1611,  explains  thus:  "  To  yeeld,  referre,  or  attri- 
bute much,  unto  a  companie."  MALONE. 

That  nothing  gift  which  the  multitude  are  supposed  to  bestow, 
is  glory,  reputation,  which  is  a  present  of  little  value  from  their 
hands ;  as  they  are  neither  unanimous  in  giving  it,  nor  constant 
in  continuing  it.  HEATH. 

I  believe  the  old  to  be  the  right  reading.  Differing  multitudes 
means  unsteady  multitudes,  who  are  continually  changing  their 
opinions,  and  condemn  to-day  what  they  yesterday  applauded. 

M.  MASON. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  explanation  is  just.  So,  in  the  Induction  to 
The  Second  Part  of  King  Henry  IV: 

"  The  still  discordant,  luatfring  multitude." 

STEEVENS. 

*  Since  Leonatus  false.']  Mr.  M.  Mason  would  read : 

Since  Leonatus  is  false. 

but  this  conjecture  is  injurious  to  the  metre.  If  we  are  to  con- 
nect the  words  in  question  with  the  preceding  line,  and  suppose 
that  Imogen  has  completed  all  she  meant  to  say,  we  might  read : 

Since  Leonate  is  false. 

Thus,  for  the  convenience  of  versification,  Shakspeare  some- 
times calls  Prospero,  Prosper,  and  Enobarbws,  Enobarbe. 

STEEVENS. 

As  Shakspeare  has  used  "  thy  mistress'  ear,"  and  "  Menelaus' 
tent,"  for  thy  mistresses  ear,  and  Menelauses  tent,  so,  with  still 
greater  licence,  he  uses — Since  Leonatus  false,  for — Since  Leo- 
natus is  false.  MALONE. 

Of  such  a  licence,  I  believe,  there  is  no  example  either  in  the 
works  of  Shakspeare,  or  of  any  other  author.  STEEVENS. 


CYMBELINE.  ACT  m. 

We'll  mannerly  demand  thee  of  thy  story, 
So  far  as  thou  wilt  speak  it. 
GUI.  Pray,  draw  near. 

ARV.  The  night  to  the  owl,  and  morn  to  the 

lark,  less  welcome. 
IMO.  Thanks,  sir. 
ARF.  I  pray,  draw  near.     \_Exeunt. 


SCENE  VII. 

Rome. 
Enter  Two  Senators  and  Tribunes. 


.  This  is  the  tenour  of  the  emperor's  writ  ; 
That  since  the  common  men  are  now  in  action 
'Gainst  the  Pannonians  and  Dalmatians  j 
And  that6  the  legions  now  in  Gallia  are 
Full  weak  to  undertake  our  wars  against 
The  fallen-off  Britons  ;  that  we  do  incite 
The  gentry  to  this  business  :  He  creates 
Lucius  pro-consul  :  and  to  you  the  tribunes, 
For  this  immediate  levy,  he  commands 
His  absolute  commission.7    Long  live  Cassar  ! 

8  That  since  the  common  men  are  now  in  action 
'Gainst  the  Pannonians  and  Dalmatians; 
And  that  &c.]  These  facts  are  historical.     STEEVENS. 

See  p.  505,  n.  9.    MALONE. 

7  -  and  to  you  the  tribunes, 

For  this  immediate  levy,  he  commands 

His  absolute  commission."]  He  commands  the  commission  to 
be  given  to  you.  So  we  say,  I  ordered  the  materials  to  the  work- 
men. JOHNSON. 


ACT  iv.  CYMBELINE.  555 

Tsi.  Is  Lucius  general  of  the  forces  ? 

2  SEN.  Ay. 

TRI.  Remaining  now  in  Gallia  ? 

1  SEN.  With  those  legions 

Which  I  have  spoke  of,  whereunto  your  levy 
Must  be  supplyant :  The  words  of  your  commission 
Will  tie  you  to  the  numbers,  and  the  time 
Of  their  despatch. 

TRI.  We  will  discharge  our  duty. 

[Exeunt, 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  I. 

The  Forest,  near  the  Cave. 
Enter  CLOTEN. 

CLO.  I  am  near  to  the  place  where  they  should 
meet,  if  Pisanio  have  mapped  it  truly.  How  fit 
his  garments  serve  me !  Why  should  his  mistress, 
who  was  made  by  him  that  made  the  tailor,  not  be 
fit  too  ?  the  rather  (saving  reverence  of  the  word) 
for8  'tis  said,  a  woman's  fitness  comes  by  fits. 
Therein  I  must  play  the  workman.  I  dare  speak 
it  to  myself,  (for  it  is  not  vain-glory,  for  a  man 
and  his  glass  to  confer;  in  his  own  chamber,  I 
mean,)  the  lines  of  my  body  are  as  well  drawn  as 
his  j  no  less  young,  more  strong,  not  beneath  him 

•  —../or — ]  i.  e.  because.    See  p.  568,  n.  4.    STEEVENS. 


556  CYMBELINE.  ACT  iv. 

in  fortunes,  beyond  him  in  the  advantage  of  the 
time,  above  him  in  birth,  alike  conversant  in  ge- 
neral services,  and  more  remarkable  in  single  op- 
positions :9  yet  this  imperseverant1  thing  loves  him 
in  my  despite.  What  mortality  is !  rosthumus, 
thy  head,  which  now  is  growing  upon  thy  shoulders, 
shall  within  this  hour  be  off;  thy  mistress  enforced ; 
thy  garments  cut  to  pieces  before  thy  face  :2  and 
all  this  done,  spurn  her  home  to  her  father ; 3  who 
may,  haply,  be  a  little  angry  for  my  so  rough  usage : 
but  my  mother,  having  power  of  his  testiness,  shall 
turn  all  into  my  commendations.  My  horse  is  tied 

9  in  single  oppositions :]  In  single  combat.     So,  in  King 

Henry  I  V.P.I: 

"  In  single  opposition,  hand  to  hand, 
"  He  did  confound  the  best  part  of  an  hour, 
"  In  changing  hardiment  with  great  Glendower." 
An  opposite  was  in  Shakspeare  the  common  phrase  for  an  ad- 
versary, or  antagonist.    See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  521,  n.  4.     M ALONE. 

1  imperseverant — ]     Thus  the  former  editions.     Sir  T. 

Hanmer  reads — ill-per sever  ant.     JOHNSON. 

Imperseverant  may  mean  no  more  than  perseverant,  like  ini- 
bosomed,  impassioned,  z'm-masked.  STEEVENS. 

*  before  thyjface.-]    Posthumus  was  to  have  his  head 

struck  off,  and  then  his  garments  cut  to  pieces  before  his  face ! 
We  should  read — her  face,  i.  e.  Imogen's :  done  to  despite  her, 
who  had  said,  she  esteemed  Posthumus's  garment  above  the  per- 
son of  Cloten.  WARBURTON. 

Shakspeare,  who  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  makes  a  Clown  say : 
"  If  thou'lt  see  a  thing  to  talk  on  after  thou  art  dead,"  would  not 
scruple  to  give  the  expression  in  the  text  to  so  fantastick  a  cha- 
racter as  Cloten.  The  garments  of  Posthumus  might  indeed  be 
cut  to  pieces  before  hisjhce,  though  his  head  were  off;  no  one, 
however,  but  Cloten,  would  consider  this  circumstance  as  any 
aggravation  of  the  insult.  MALONE. 

3  spurn  her  home  to  her  father ;]  Cloten  seems  to  delight 

in  rehearsing  to  himself  his  brutal  intentions  ;  for  all  this  he  has 
already  said  in  a  former  scene :  "  — and  when  my  lust  hath 
dined, — to  the  court  I'll  knock  her  back,  foot  her  home  again." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  it.  CYMBELINE.  557 

up  safe  :  Out,  sword,  and  to  a  sore  purpose  !  For- 
tune, put  them  into  my  hand !  This  is  the  very 
description  of  their  meeting-place  j  and  the  fellow 
dares  not  deceive  me.  [Exit. 


SCENE  II. 

Before  the  Cave. 

Enter,  from  the  Cave,  BELARIUS,  GUIDERIUS, 
ARVIRAGUS,  and  IMOGEN. 

BEL.  You  are  not  well:    [To  IMOGEN.]  remain 

here  in  the  cave ; 
We'll  come  to  you  after  hunting. 

ARV.  Brother,  stay  here ; 

[To  IMOGEN. 
Are  we  not  brothers  ? 

IMO.  So  man  and  man  should  be ; 

But  clay  and  clay  differs  in  dignity, 
Whose  dust  is  both  alike.     I  am  very  sick. 

GUI.  Go  you  to  hunting,  I'll  abide  with  him. 

IMO.  So  sick  I  am  not ; — yet  I  am  not  well : 
But  not  so  citizen  a  wanton,  as 
To  seem  to  die,  ere  sick :  So  please  you,  leave  me ; 
Stick  to  your  journal  course :  the  breach  of  custom 
Is  breach  of  all.4     I  am  ill ;  but  your  being  by  me 
Cannot  amend  me :  Society  is  no  comfort 

•  *  Stick  to  your  journal  course :  the  breach  of  custom 

Is  breach  of  all."]  Keep  your  daily  course  uninterrupted; 
if  the  stated  plan  of  life  is  once  broken,  nothing  follows  but 
confueion.  JOHNSON. 


S5S  CYMBELINE;  ACT  ir. 


To  one  not  sociable  :  I'm  not  very 
Since  I  can  reason  of  it.     Pray  you,  trust  me  here: 
I'll  rob  none  but  myself;  ana  let  me  die, 
Stealing  so  poorly. 

GUI.  .  I  love  thee  ;  I  have  spoke  it  : 

How  much  the  quantity,5  the  weight  as  much, 
As  I  do  love  my  father. 

BEL.  What?  how?  how? 

ARV.  If  it  be  sin  to  say  so,  sir,  I  yoke  me 
In  my  good  brother's  fault  :  I  know  not  why 
I  love  this  youth  ;  and  I  have  heard  you  say, 
Love's  reason's  without  reason  ;  the  bier  at  door, 
And  a  demand  who  is't  shall  die,  I'd  say, 
My  father,  not  this  youth. 

BEL.  O  noble  strain  !  [Aside. 

0  worthiness  of  nature  !  breed  of  greatness  ! 
Cowards  father  cowards,  and  base  things  sire  base  : 
Nature  hath  meal,  and  bran  ;  contempt,  and  grace. 

1  am  not  their  father  ;  yet  who  this  should  be, 
Doth  miracle  itself,  lov'd  before  me.  — 

'Tis  the  ninth  hour  o'the  morn. 

AitV.  Brother,  farewell. 

IMO.  I  wish  ye  sport. 

A  RT.  You  health.  —  So  please  you,  sir.6 

IMO.  [Aside."}  These  are  kind  creatures.     Gods, 
what  lies  I  have  heard  ! 


4  How  much  the  quantity,]  I  read— As  much  the  quantity. 

JOHNSON. 

Surely  the  present  reading  has  exactly  the  same  meaning.  Hem 
much  soever  the  mass  of  my  affection  to  my  father  may  be,  so 
much  precisely  is  my  love  for  thee :  and  as  much  as  my  filial  love 
weighs,  so  much  also  weighs  my  affection  for  thee.  MALONE. 

0  — —  So  phase  you,  «>.]  I  cannot  relish  this  courtly  phrase 
from  the  mouth  of  Arviragus.  It  should  rather,  I  think,  begin 
Imogen's  speech.  TYRWHITT. 


ac.  IL  CYMBELINE. 

Our  courtiers  say,  all's  savage,  but  at  court : 

Experience,  O,  thou  disprov'st  report ! 

The  imperious  seas7  breed  monsters  j  for  the  dish, 

Poor  tributary  rivers  as  sweet  fish. 

I  am  sick  still ;  heart-sick  :— Pisanio, 

I'll  now  taste  of  thy  drug. 

GUI.  I  could  not  stir  him  :s 

He  said,  he  was  gentle,  but  unfortunate  ;9 
Dishonestly  afflicted,  but  yet  honest. 

ARV.  Thus  did  he  answer  me :  yet  said,  hereafter 
I  might  know  more. 

BEL.  To  the  field,  to  the  field  :— 

We'll  leave  you  for  this  time  ;  go  in,  and  rest. 

ARV.  We'll  not  be  long  away. 

BEL.  Pray,  be  not  sick, 

For  you  must  be  our  housewife. 

IMO.  Well,  or  ill, 

I  am  bound  to  you. 

BEL.  And  so  shalt  be  ever.1 

[Exit  IMOGEN. 

This  youth,howe'erdistress'd,2appears,he  hath  had 
Good  ancestors. 

7  The  imperious  seas— "]     Imperious  was  used  by  Shakspeare 
for  imperial.    See  Vol.  XV.  p.  416,  n.  8.    MALONE. 

8  /  could  not  stir  him:]  Not  move  him  to  tell  his  story. 

JOHNSQN. 

9  gentle,  but  unfortunates']  Gentle,  is  noell-born,  of  birth 

above  the  vulgar.    JOHNSON. 

Rather,  of  rank  above  the  vulgar.     So,  in  King  Henry  V : 
"  ———be  he  ne'er  so  vile, 
"  This  day  shall  gentle  his  condition."     STEEVENS. 
1  And  so  shalt  be  ever.~\  The  adverb — so,  was  supplied  by  Sir 
Thomas  Hanmer  for  the  sake  of  metre.     STEEVENS. 
8  Imo.  Well,  or  ill, 
I  am  bound  to  you. 
Bel.  And  so  shalt  be  ever. — 
This  youth,  hawe'er  distressed,  &c.~]     These  speeches  are 


560  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

Anr.  How  angel-like  he  sings ! 

GUI.  But  his  neat  cookery  !3  He  cut  our  roots  in 

characters ;  * 

And  sauc'd  our  broths,  as  Juno  had  been  sick, 
And  he  her  dieter. 

ARV.  Nobly  he  yokes 

A  smiling  with  a  sigh  :  as  if  the  sigh 
Was  that  it  was,  for  not  being  such  a  smile ; 
The  smile  mocking  the  sigh,  that  it  would  fly 
From  so  divine  a  temple,  to  commix 
With  winds  that  sailors  rail  at. 

GUI.  I  do  note, 

That  grief  and  patience,  rooted  in  him  both,5 
Mingle  their  spurs  together.6 

improperly  distributed  between  Imogen  and  Belarius ;  and  I 
flatter  myself  that  every  reader  of  attention  will  approve  of  my 
amending  the  passage,  and  dividing  them  in  the  following 
manner : 

Imo.  Well,  or  ill, 
I  am  bound  to  you;  and  shall  be  ever. 

Bel.  This  youth,  howe'er  distressed,  &c.     M.  MASON. 

And  shalt  be  ever.~]  That  is,  you  shall  ever  receive  from  me 
the  same  kindness  that  you  do  at  present :  you  shall  thus  only  be 
lound  to  me  for  ever.  MALONE. 

3  Gui.  But  his  neat  cookery!  &c.]     Only  the  first  four  words 
of  this  speech  are  given  in  the  old  copy  to  Guiderius :  The  name 
of  Arviragus  is  prefixed  to  the  remainder,  as  well  as  to  the  next 
speech.     The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Steevens.     MALONE. 

4  He  cut  our  roots  in  characters ;]  So,  in  Fletcher's  Elder 

Brother,  Act  IV : 

"  And  how  to  cut  his  meat  in  characters"    STEEVENS. 

*  rooted  in  him  both,']     Old  copy — in  them.     Corrected 

by  Mr.  Pope.     MALONE. 

6  Mingle  their  spurs  together."}  Spurs,  an  old  word  for  the 
fibres  of  a  tree.  POPE. 

Spurs  are  the  longest  and  largest  leading  roots  of  trees.  Our 
poet  has  again  used  the  same  word  in  The  Tempest : 


56'.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  561 

ARV.  Grow,  patience ! 

And  let  the  stinking. elder,  grief,  untwine 
His  perishing  root,  with  the  increasing  vine  !7 

BEL.  It  is  great  morning.8  Come  j  away. — Who's 
there  ? 


Enter  CLOTEN. 

CLO.  I  cannot  find  those  runagates ;  that  villain 
Hath  mock'd  me  : — I  am  faint. 

BEL.  Those  runagates ! 

"  -'  -  •  •  •  the  strong  bas'cl  promontory 
"  Have  I  made  shake,  and  by  the  spurs 
"  Pluck'd  up  the  pine  and  cedar." 

Hence  probably  the  spur  of  a  post ;  the  short  wooden  buttress 
affixed  to  it,  to  keep  it  firm  in  the  ground.  MA  LONE. 

,    7  And  let  the  stinking  elder,  grief,  untwine 

His  perishing  root,  with  the  increasing  vine  !J  Shakspeare 
had  only  seen  English  vines  which  grow  against  walls,  and  there- 
fore may  be  sometimes  entangled  with  the  elder.  Perhaps  we 
should  read — 'Untwine—^from  the  vine.  JOHNSON. 

Surely  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  without  any  change. 
May  patience  increase,  and  may  the  stinking  elder,  grief,  jio 
longer  twine  his  decaying  [or  destructive,  if  perishing  is  used 
actively,  3  root  with  the  vine,  patience,  thus  increasing! — As  to 
untwine  is  here  used  for  to  cease  to  twine,  so  in  King  Henry  VIII. 
the  word  uncontemned  having  been  used,  the  poet  has  constructed 
the  remainder  of  the  sentence  as  if  he  had  written  not  contemned. 
See  Vol.  XV.  p.  115,  n.  6.  MALONE. 

Sir  John  Hawkins  proposes  to  read — entwine.  He  says  "  Let 
the  stinking  elder  \_Gric f~\  entwine  his  root  with  the  vine 
\_Patience~]  and  in  the  end  Patience  must  outgrow  Grief." 

STEEVENS. 

There  is  no  need  of  alteration.  The  elder  is  a  plant  whose 
roots  are  much  shorter  lived  than  the  vine's,  and  as  those  of  the 
vine  swell  and  outgrow  them,  they  must  of  necessity  loosen  their 
hold.  HENLEY. 

8  It  is  great  morning.^  A  Gallicism.  Grand  jour.  See  Vol. 
XV.  p.  391,  n.  1.  STEEVEXS. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  O 


CYMBELINE.  ACT  jr. 

Means  he  not  us  ?  I  partly  know  him  ;  'tis 
Cloten,  the  son  o'the  queen.  I  fear  some  ambush. 
I  saw  him  not  these  many  years,  and  yet 
I  know  'tis  he: — We  are  held  as  outlaws: — Hence. 

GUI.  He  is  but  one  :  You  and  my  brother  search 
What  companies  are  near :  pray  you,  away ; 
Let  me  alone  with  him. 

[Exeunt  BELARIUS  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

CLO.  Soft !  What  are  you 

That  fly  me  thus  ?  some  villain  mountaineers  ? 
I  have  heard  of  such. — What  slave  art  thou  ? 

GUI.  A  thing 

More  slavish  did  I  ne'er,  than  answering 
A  slave  without  a  knock.9 

CLO.  Thou  art  a  robber, 

A  law-breaker,  a  villain  :  Yield  thee,  thief. 

GUI.  To  who  ?  to  thee  ?  What  art  thou  ?  Have 

not  I 

An  arm  as  big  as  thine  ?  a  heart  as  big  ? 
Thy  words,  I  grant,  are  bigger ;  for  I  wear  not 
My  dagger  in  my  mouth.1     Say,  what  thou  art ; 
Why  I  should  yield  to  thee  ? 

CLO.  Thou  villain  base, 

Know'st  me  not  by  my  clothes  ? 


'  'than  answering 

A  slave  without  a  knock."]  Than  answering  that  abusive  word 
slave.     Slave  should  be  printed  in  Italicks.    M.  MASON. 

Mr.  M.  Mason's  interpretation  is  supported  by  a  passage  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet : 

"  Now,  Tybalt,  take  the  villain  back  again."     MALOXE. 

1 for  I  luear  not 

My  dagger  in  my  mouth.']     So,    n  Solyman  and  Perseda, 
J599: 

"  I  fight  not  fuith  my  tongue:  this  is  my  oratrix." 

MALOXE. 


sc.  n.  CYMBELINE.  565 

GUI.  No,2  nor  thy  tailor,  rascal, 

Who  is  thy  grandfather ;  he  made  those  clothes, 
Which,  as  it  seems,  make  thee.3 

CLO.  Thou  precious  varlet, 

My  tailor  made  them  not. 

GUI.  Hence  then,  and  thank 

The  man  that  gave  them  thee.  Thou  art  some  fool ; 
I  am  loath  to  beat  thee. 

CLO.  Thou  injurious  thief, 

Hear  but  my  name,  and  tremble. 

GUI.  What's  thy  name  £ 

CLO.  Cloten,  thou  villain. 

GUI.  Cloten,  thou  double  villain,  be  thy  name, 
I  cannot  tremble  at  it;  were't  toad,  or  adder,  spider, 
'Twould  move  me  sooner. 

CLO.  To  thy  further  fear, 

Nay,  to  thy  mere  confusion,  thou  shalt  know 
I'm  son  to  the  queen. 

GUI.  I'm  sorry  for't ;  not  seeming 

So  worthy  as  thy  birth. 

CLO.  Art  not  afeard  ? 

GUI.  Those  that  I  reverence,  those  I  fear;  the 

wise : 
At  fools  I  laugh,  not  fear  them. 

CLO.  Die  the  death  :* 

When  I  have  slain  thee  with  my  proper  hand, 

*  No,~\    This  negation  is  at  once  superfluous  and  injurious  to 
the  metre.     STEEVENS. 

3  No,  nor  thy  tailor,  rascal, 

Who  is  thy  grandfather ;  he  made  those  clothes, 
Which,  as  it  seems,  make  thee.~]     See  a  note  on  a  similar 
passage  in  a  former  scene,  p.  526,  n.  9.     STEEVENS. 

4  Die  the  death :]     See  Vol.  VI.  p.  286,  n.  1.     STEEVENS. 

2  o  2 


564  CYMBELINE.  ACT  iv. 

I'll  follow  those  that  even  now  fled  hence, 
And  on  the  gates  of  Lud's  town  set  your  heads ; 
Yield,  rustick  mountaineer.5        [Exeunt,  fighting. 

Enter  BELARIUS  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

BEL.  No  company's  abroad. 

ARV.  None  in  the  world :  You  did  mistake  him, 
sure. 

BEL.  I  cannot  tell :  Long  is  it  since  I  saw  him, 
But  time  hath  nothing  blurr'd  those  lines  of  favour 
Which  then  he  wore ;  the  snatches  in  his  voice, 
And  burst  of  speaking,6  were  as  his :  I  am  absolute, 

4  yield,  rustick  mountaineer,'}  I  believe,  upon  examination, 
the  character  of  Cloten  will  not  prove  a  very  consistent  one. 
Act  I.  sc.  iv.  the  Lords  who  are  conversing  with  him  on  the  sub- 
ject of  his  rencontre  with  Posthumus,  represent  the  latter  as  having 
neither  put  forth  his  strength  or  courage,  but  still  advancing  for- 
wards to  the  prince,  who  retired  before  him;  yet  at  this  his  last 
appearance,  we  see  him  fighting  gallantly,  and  falling  by  the  hand 
of  Guiderius.  The  same  persons  aftenvards  speak  of  him  as  of 
u  mere  ass  or  ideot ;  and  yet,  Act  III.  sc.  i.  he  returns  one  of 
the  noblest  and  most  reasonable  answers  to  the  Roman  envoy : 
and  the  rest  of  his  conversation  on  the  same  occasion,  though  it 
may  lack  form  a  little,  by  no  means  resembles  the  language  of 
folly.  He  behaves  with  proper  dignity  and  civility  at  parting 
with  Lucius,  and  yet  is  ridiculous  and  brutal  in  his  treatment  of 
Imogen.  Belarius  describes  him  as  not  having  sense  enough  to 
know  what  fear  is  (which  he  defines  as  being  sometimes  the 
effect  of  judgment) ;  and  yet  he  forms  very  artful  schemes  for 
gaining  the  affection  of  his  mistress,  by  means  of  her  attendants; 
to  get  her  person  into  his  power  afterwards  ;  and  seems  to  be  no 
less  acquainted  with  the  character  of  his  father,  and  the  ascend- 
ancy the  Queen  maintained  over  his  uxorious  weakness.  We 
find  Cloten,  in  short,  represented  at  once  as  brave  and  dastardly, 
civil  and  brutish,  sagacious  and  foolish,  without  that  subtilty  of 
distinction,  and  those  shades  of  gradation  between  sense  and  folly, 
virtue  and  vice,  which  constitute  the  excellence  of  such  mixed 
characters  as  Polonius  in  Hamlet,  and  the  Nurse  in  Romeo  ami 
Juliet.  STE  EVENS. 

c< the  snatches  in  his  voice, 

And  burst  of  speaking,]     This  is  one  of  our  author's  stroke* 


ac.  if.  CYMBELINE.  565 

'Twas  very  Cloten. 

ARV.  In  this  place  we  left  them; 

I  wish  my  brother  make  good  time  with  him, 
You  say  he  is  so  fell. 

BEL.  Being  scarce  made  up, 

I  mean,  to  man,  he  had  not  apprehension 
Of  roaring  terrors ;  for  the  effect  of  judgment 
Is  oft  the  cause  of  fear  :7  But  see,  thy  brother. 

of  observation.     An  abrupt  and  tumultuous  utterance  very  fre- 
quently accompanies  a  confused  and  cloudy  understanding. 

JOHNSON. 

7 for  tne  effect  of  judgment 

Is  oft  the  cause  offear:~\  [Old  copy — defect  of  judgment — ] 
If  I  understand  this  passage,  it  is  mock  reasoning  as  it  stands, 
and  the  text  must  have  been  slightly  corrupted.  Belarius  is  giving 
a  description  of  what  Cloten  formerly  was  ;  and  in  answer  to 
what  Arviragus  says  of  his  being  so  fell,  "  Ay,  (says  Belarius) 
he  was  so  fell ;  and  being  scarce  then  at  man's  estate,  he  had  no 
apprehension  of  roaring  terrors,  i.  e.  of  any  thing  that  could 
check  him  with  fears."  But  then,  how  does  the  inference  come 
in,  built  upon  this  ?  For  defect  of  judgment  is  oft  the  cause  of 
fear.  I  think  the  poet  meant  to  have  said  the  mere  contrary. 
Cloten  was  defective  in  judgment,  and  therefore  did  not  fear. 
Apprehensions  of  fear  growfrom  a  judgment  in  weigh  ing  dangers. 
And  a  very  easy  change,  from  the  traces  of  the  letters,  gives  us 
this  sense,  and  reconciles  the  reasoning  of  the  whole  passage : 

for  th'  effect  of  judgment 

Is  oft  the  cause  of  fear, .     THEOBALD. 

Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads  with  equal  justness  of  sentiment : 

for  defect  of  judgment 

Is  oft  the  cure  of  fear, . 

But,  I  think,  the  play  of  effect  and  cause  more  resembling  the 
manner  of  our  author.     JOHNSON. 

If  fear,  as  in  other  passages  of  Shakspeare,  be  understood  in 
an  active  signification  for  what  may  cause  fear,  it  means  that 
Cloten's  defect  of  judgment  caused  him  to  commit  actions  to  the 
terror  of  others,  without  due  consideration  of  his  own  danger 
therein.  Thus,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  II : 

" all  these  bold  fears, 

"  Thou  see'st  with  peril  I  have  answered."     TOLLET. 


566  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 


Re-enter  GUIDERIUS,  with  CLOTEN'S  Head. 

GUI.  This  Cloten  was  a  fool ;  an  empty  purse, 
There  was  no  nioney  in't :  not  Hercules 
Could  have  knock'd  out  hisbrains,for  he  had  none:* 
Yet  I  not  doing  this,  the  fool  had  borne 
My  head,  as  I  do  his. 

BEL.  What  hast  thou  done  ? 

GUI.  I  am  perfect,  what:9  cut  off  one  Cloten's 
head, 

The  objection  to  this  interpretation  is,  that  in  this  clause  of 
the  sentence  it  was  evidently  the  poet's  intention  to  assign  a  reason 
for  Cloten's  being  himself  free  from  apprehension,  not  to  account 
for  his  terrifying  others. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  defect  of  judgment,  or  not  rightly 
estimating  the  degree  of  danger  and  the  means  of  resistance,  is 
often  the  cause  of  fear :  the  being  possessed  of  judgment  also 
may  occasion  fear,  as  he  who  maturely  weighs  all  circumstances 
will  know  precisely  his  danger ;  while  the  inconsiderate  is  rash 
and  fool-hardy :  but  neither  of  these  assertions,  however  true, 
can  account  for  Cloten's  having  no  apprehension  of  roaring  ter- 
rors ;  and  therefore  the  passage  must  be  corrupt.  Mr.  Theobald 
amends  the  text  by  reading  : 

-for  the  effect  of  judgment 

Is  oft  the  cause  of  fear. 

but,  though  Shakspeare  has  in  King  Richard  III.  used  effect  and 
cause  as  synonymous,  I  do  not  think  it  probable  he  would  say 
the  effect  was  the  cause;  nor  do  I  think  the  effect  and  the  defect 
likely  to  have  been  confounded :  besides,  the  passage  thug 
amended  is  liable  to  the  objection  already  stated.  I  have  there- 
fore adopted  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer's  emendation.  M  ALONE. 

* •  not  Hercules 

Could  have  knocked  out  his  brains,  for  he  had  none:"]  This 
thought  had  occurred  before  in  Trails  and  Cressida  : 

"  — if  he  knock  out  either  of  your  brains,  a'  were  as  good 
crack  a  fusty  nut  with  no  kernel."  STEEVENS. 

n  /  am  perfect,  •what:'}  I  am  well  informed,  what.  So,  in  this 
play: 

*'  I  am  perfect,  the  Pannoniansareinarms,"  JOHNSON. 


ac.  u.  CYMBELINE,  567 

Son  to  the  queen,  after  his  own  report ; 
Who  call'd  me  traitor,  mountaineer ;  and  swore, 
With  his  own  single  hand  he'd  take  us  in,1 
Displace  our  heads,  where  (thank  the  gods  !)2  they 

grow, 
And  set  them  on  Lud's  town. 

BEL.  We  are  all  undone. 

GUI.  Why,  worthy  father,  what  have  we  to  lose, 
But,  that  he  swore  to  take,  our  lives  ?  The  law 
Protects  not  us  :3  Then  why  should  we  be  tender, 
To  let  an  arrogant  piece  of  flesh  threat  us  ; 
Play  judge,  and  executioner,  all  himself; 

1 take  us  in,"]     To  take  in,  was  the  phrase  in  use  for  to 

apprehend  an  out-law,  or  to  make  him  amenable  to  publick 
justice.  JOHNSON. 

To  take  in  means,  simply,   to  conquer,  to  subdue.     So,  in 
Antony  and  Cleopatra: 

" cut  the  Ionian  seas, 

"  And  take  in  Toryne."     STEEVENS. 

That  Mr.  Steevens's  explanation  of  this  phrase  is  the  true  one, 
appears  from  the  present  allusion  to  Cloten's  speech,  and  also 
from  the  speech  itself  in  the  former  part  of  this  scene.  He  had 
not  threatened  to  render  these  outlaws  amenable  to  justice,  but 
to  kill  them  with  his  own  hand : 
"  Die  the  death : 

"  When  I  have  slain  thee  with  my  proper  hand,"  &c. 
"  He'd  fetch  us  in,'*  is  used  a  little  loAver  by  Belarius,  in  the 
sense  assigned  by  Dr.  Johnson  to  the  phrase  before  us.  MALONE. 

4 (thank  the  gods.'}']    The  old  copies  have — (thanks  the 

gods.)  Mr.  Rowe,  and  other  editors  after  him, — thanks  to  the 
gods.  But  by  the  present  omission  of  the  letter  s,  and  the  resto- 
ration of  the  parenthesis,  I  suppose  this  passage,  as  it  now  stands 
in  the  text,  to  be  as  our  author  gave  it.  STEEVENS. 

3 The  law 

Protects  not  us:"}     We  meet  with  the  same  sentiment  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet  : 

"  The  world  is  not  thy  friend,  nor  the  world's  law." 

STEEVENS. 


,568  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

For  we  do  fear  the  law  ?4  What  company 
Discover  you  abroad  ? 

BEL.  No  single  soul 

Can  we  set  eye  on,  but,  in  all  safe  reason, 
He  must  have  some  attendants.  Though  his  humour 
Was  nothing  but  mutation  ; 5  ay,  and  that 

4  For  we  do  fear  the  /au>r]    For  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of 
because.     So,  in  Marlowe's  Jew  of  Malta,  1633: 
"  See  the  simplicity  of  these  base  slaves ! 
"  Who,ybr  the  villains  have  no  faith  themselves, 
"  Think  me  to  be  a  senseless  lump  of  clay." 
Again,  in  Othello: 

"  And,  for  I  know  thou  art  full  of  love,"  &c. 

MALONE. 

*  T-* Though  his  humour 

Was  nothing  but  mutation;  &c.]  [Old  copy — his  honour.] 
What  has  his  honour  to  do  here,  in  his  being  changeable  in  this 
sort  ?  in  his  acting  as  a  madman,  or  not  ?  I  have  ventured  to 
substitute  humour,  against  the  authority  of  the  printed  copies  : 
and  the  meaning  seems  plainly  this :  "  Though  h6  was  always 
fickle  to  the  last  degree,  and  governed  by  humour,  not  sound 
sense ;  yet  not  madness  itself  could  make  him  so  hardy  to  attempt 
an  enterprize  of  this  nature  alone,  and  unseconded." 

THEOBALD. 

The  text  is  right,  and  means,  that  the  only  notion  he  had  of 
honour,  was  the  fashion,  which  was  perpetually  changing. 

WARBURTON, 

This  would  be  a  strange  description  of  honour  ;  and  appears 
to  me  in  its  present  form  to  be  absolute  nonsense.  The  sense 
indeed  absolutely  requires  that  we  should  adopt  Theobald's 
amendment,  and  read  humour  instead  of  honour. 

Belarius  is  speaking  of  the  disposition  of  Cloten,  not  of  his 
principles : — and  this  account  of  him  agrees  with  what  Imogen 
says  in  the  latter  end  of  the  scene,  where  she  calls  him  "  that 
irregulous  devil  Cloten."  M.  MASON. 

I  am  now  convinced  that  the  poet  wrote — his  humour,  as  Mr. 
Theobald  suggested.  The  context  strongly  supports  the  emen- 
dation; but  what  decisively  entitles  it  to  a  place  in  the  text  is, 
that  the  editor  of  the  folio  has,  in  like  manner,  printed  honour 
instead  of  humour  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  I.  sc.  Hi : 

"  Falstaffwill  learn  the  honour  of  the  age." 
The  quarto  reads  rightly — "  the  humour  of  the  age." 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  569 

From  one  bad  thing  to  worse ;  not  frenzy,  not 
Absolute  madness  could  so  far  have  rav'd, 
To  bring  him  here  alone :  Although,  perhaps, 
It  may  be  heard  at  court,  that  such  as  we 
Cave  here,  hunt  here,  are  outlaws,  and  in  time 
May  make  some  stronger  head :  the  which  he  hear- 
ing, 

(As  it  is  like  him,)  might  break  out,  arid  swear 
He'd  fetch  us  in  ;  yet  is't  not  probable 
To  come  alone,  either  he  so  undertaking, 
Or  they  so  suffering :  then  on  good  ground  we  fear, 
If  we  do  fear  this  body  hath  a  tail 
More  perilous  than  the  head. 

Anv.  Let  ordinance 

Come  as  the  gods  foresay  it :  howsoe'er, 
My  brother  hath  done  well. 

BEL.  I  had  no  mind 

To  hunt  this  day :  the  boy  Fidele's  sickness 
Did  make  my  way  long  forth.6 

GUI.  With  his  own  sword, 

Which  he  did  wave  against  my  throat,  I  have  ta'en 
His  head  from  him  :  I'll  throw't  into  the  creek 
Behind  our  rock ;  and  let  it  to  the  sea, 
And  tell  the  fishes,  he's  the  queen's  son,  Cloten : 
That's  all  I  reck.  [Exit. 

BEL.  I  fear,  'twill  be  reveng'd : 

'Would,  Polydore,  thou  had'st  not  done't !  though 
valour 

On  the  other  hand  in  the  quarto,  signat.  A  3,  we  find,  "  —  Sir, 
my  honour  is  not  for  many  words,"  instead  of  "  —  Sir,  my  hu- 
mour" &c.  MALONE. 

6  Did  make  my  toay  long  forth.'}  Fidele's  sickness  made  my 
ivalk forth  from  the  cave  tedious.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Richard  III: 

" our  crosses  on  the  way, 

"  Have  made  it  tedious"  &c.     STEEVENS. 


570  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

Becomes  thee  well  enough. 

ARV.  'Would  I  had  done't, 

So  the  revenge  alone  pursued  me ! — Polydore, 
I  love  thee  brotherly ;  but  envy  much, 
Thou  hast  robb'd  me  of  this  deed :  1  would,  re- 
venges, 
That  possible  strength  might  meet,7  would  seek  us 

through, 
And  put  us  to  our  answer. 

BEL.  Well,  'tis  done : — 

We'll  hunt  no  more  to-day,  nor  seek  for  danger 
Where  there's  no  profit.    I  pr'ythee,  to  our  rock  j 
You  and  Fidele  play  the  cooks :  I'll  stay 
Till  hasty  Polydore  return,  and  bring  him 
To  dinner  presently. 

ARV.  Poor  sick  Fidele ! 

I'll  willingly  to  him  :  To  gain  his  colour,8 
I'd  let  a  parish  of  such  Clotens  blood,9 
And  praise  myself  for  charity.  [ Exit. 

7  revenges, 

That  possible  strength  might  meet,'}  Such  pursuit  of  vengeance 
as  fell  within  any  possibility  of  opposition.     JOHNSON. 

8  To  gain  his  colour, ~]  i.  e.  to  restore  him  to  the  bloom 

of  health,  to  recall  the  colour  of  it  into  his  cheeks.    STEEVENS. 

9  I'd  let  a  parish  of  such  Clotens  blood,"]     I  would,  says  the 
young  prince,  to  recover  Fidele,  kill  as  many  Clotens  as  would 
fill  a.  parish.     JOHNSON. 

"  His  visage,  (says  Fenner  of  a  catchpole,)  was  almost  eaten 
through  with  pock-holes,  so  that  half  a  parish  of  children  might 
have  played  at  cherry-pit  in  his  face."  FARMER. 

Again,  in  The  Wits,  by  Davenant,  fol.  1673,  p.  222: 
"  Heaven  give  you  joy  sweet  master  Palatine 
"  And  to  you  sir  a  whole  parish  of  children."     REED. 
The  sense  of  the  passage  is,  I  would  let  blood  (or  bleed)  a 
whole  parish,  or  any  number,  of  such  fellows  as  Cloten ;  not, 
"  I  would  let  out  a  parish  of  blood."     EDWARDS. 

Mr.  Edwards  is,  I  think,  right.     In  the  fifth  Act  we  have : 


sc.  IL  CYMBELINE.  57 1 

BEL.  O  thou  goddess, 

Thou  divine  Nature,  how  thyself  thou  blazon'st 
In  these  two  princely  boys !  *  They  are  as  gentle 
As  zephyrs,  blowing  below  the  violet, 
Not  wagging  his  sweet  head :  and  yet  as  rough, 
Their  royal  blood  enchaf  'd,  as  the  rud'st  wind,2 
That  by  the  top  doth  take  the  mountain  pine, 
And  make  him  stoop  to  the  vale.    'Tis  wonderful,3 
That  an  invisible  instinct  should  frame  them4 


"  This  man hath 

"  More  of  thee  merited,  than  a  band  of  Clotens 
"  Had  ever  scar  for."     MALONE. 

1  0  thou  goddess, 

Thou  divine  Nature,  how  thyself  thou  blazon9 st 
In  these  two  princely  boys  /]   The  first  folio  has : 

Thou  divine  Nature  ;  thou  thyself  thou  blazon'st — . 
The  second  folio  omits  the  first  thou.     REED. 

Read: 

how  thyself  thou  blazon'st .     M.  MASON. 

I  have  received  this  emendation,  which  is  certainly  judicious. 

STEEVENS. 

z  They  are  as  gentle 

As  zephyrs,  blowing  beloiv  the  violet, 
Not  wagging  his  sweet  head:  and  yet  as  rough, 
Their  royal  blood  enchqf'd,  as  the  rud'st  wind,  &c.]     So,  in 
our  author's  Lover's  Complaint: 

"  His  qualities  were  beauteous  as  his  form, 
"  For  maiden  tongu'd  he  was,  and  thereof  free ; 
"  Yet,  if  men  mov'd  him,  was  he  such  a  storm 
"  As  oft  'twixt  May  and  April  is  to  see, 
"  When  winds  breathe  sweet,  unruly  though  they  be." 

MALONE. 

3  y  Tis  wonderful,']   Old  copies — wonder.    The  correction 

is  Mr.  Pope's.     So,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor:  "  Keep 
a  good  student  from  his  book,  and  it  is  wonderful'' 

STEEVENS. 

4  That  an  invisible  instinct  should  frame  them — ]   The  metre, 
says  Mr.  Heath,  would  be  improved  by  reading : 

That  an  instinct  invisible  should  frame  them — . 
He  probably  did  not  perceive  that  in  Shakspeare's  time  the  accent 


572  CYMBELINE.  ACT  iv. 

To  royalty  unlearn'd ;  honour  untaught ; 
Civility  not  seen  from  other ;  valour, 
That  wildly  grows  in  them,  but  yields  a  crop 
As  if  it  had  been  sow'd !  Yet  still  it's  strange, 
What  Cloten's  being  here  to  us  portends  j 
Or  what  his  death  will  bring  us. 

Re-enter  GUIDERIUS. 

GUI.  Where's  my  brother  ? 

I  have  sent  Cloten's  clotpoll  down  the  stream, 
In  embassy  to  his  mother ;  his  body's  hostage 
For  his  return.  [Solemn  Mustek. 

BEL.  My  ingenious  instrument ! 

Hark,  Polydore,  it  sounds !  But  what  occasion 
Hath  Cadwal  now  to  give  it  motion  ?  Hark ! 

GUI.  Is  he  at  home  ? 

BEL.  He  went  hence  even  now. 

GUI.  What  does  he  mean  ?  since  death  of  my 

dear'st  mother 

It  did  not  speak  before.     All  solemn  things 
Should  answer  solemn  accidents.     The  matter  ? 
Triumphs  for  nothing,  and  lamenting  toys,5 
Is  jollity  for  apes,  and  grief  for  boys. 
Is  Cadwal  mad  ? 


was  laid  on  the  second  syllable  of  the  word  instinct.  So,  in  one 
of  our  poet's  Sonnets : 

"  As  if  by  some  instinct  the  wretch  did  find — ." 
The  old  copy  is  certainly  right.     MALONE. 

*  lamenting  toys,]      Toys  formerly  signified  freaks,  or 

frolicks.  One  of  N.  Breton's  poetical  pieces,  printed  in  1557, 
is  called,  "  The  toyes  of  an  idle  head."  See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  275, 
n.  6 ;  and  Cole's  Diet.  1679,  in  v.  MALONE. 

Toys  are  trifles.     So,  in  King  Henry  VI.  P.  I : 
"  That  for  a  toy,  a  thing  of  no  regard." 


sc.  a.  CYMBELINE.  573 


Re-enter  ARVIRAGUS,  bearing  IMOGEN  as  dead.,  in 
his  Arms. 

BEL.  Look,  here  he  comes, 

And  brings  the  dire  occasion  in  his  arms, 
Of  what  we  blame  him  for ! 

ARV.  The  bird  is  dead, 

That  we  have  made  so  much  on.     I  had  rather 
Have  skipped  from  sixteen  years  of  age  to  sixty, 
To  have  turn'd  my  leaping  time  into  a  crutch, 
Than  have  seen  this. 

GUI.  O  sweetest,  fairest  lily ! 

My  brother  wears  thee  not  the  one  half  so  well, 
As  when  thou  grew'st  thyself. 

BEL.  O,  melancholy ! 

Who  ever  yet  could  sound  thy  bottom  ?6  find 
The  ooze,  to  show  what  coast  thy  sluggish  crare 
Might  easiliest  harbour  in  ?7 — Thou  blessed  thing ! 

Again,  in  Hamlet: 

"  Each  toy  seems  prologue  to  some  great  amiss." 

STEEVENS. 

G  O,  melancholy ! 

Who  ever  yet  could  sound  thy  bottom?]     So,  in  Alba,  the 
Monthes  Mind  of  a  Melancholy  Lover,  by  R.  T.  1598 : 
"  This  woeful  tale,  where  sorrow  is  the  ground, 
"  Whose  bottom's  such  as  nere  the  depth  is  found." 

MALONE. 

•what  coast  thy  sluggish  crare 


Might  easiliest  harbour  in  ?~]   The  folio  reads : 

thy  sluggish  care  ? 

which  Dr.  Warburton  allows  to  be  a  plausible  reading,  but  sub- 
stitutes carrack  in  its  room ;  and  with  this,  Dr.  Johnson  tacitly 
acquiesced,  and  inserted  it  in  the  text.  Mr.  Simpson,  among 
his  notes  on  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  has  retrieved  the  true 
reading,  which  is — 

thy  sluggish  crare : 

See  The  Captain,  Act  I.  sc.  ii : 


574  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

Jove  knows  what  man  thou  might'st  have  made ; 

but  I,8 

Thou  diedst,  a  most  rare  boy,  of  melancholy ! — 
How  found  you  him  ? 


•  let  him  venture 


"  In  some  decay'd  crare  of  his  own." 

A  crare,  says  Mr.  Heath,  is  a  small  trading  vessel,  called  in 
the  Latin  of  the  middle  ages  crayera.  The  same  word,  though 
somewhat  differently  spelt,  occurs  in  Harrington's  translation  of 
Ariosto,  Book  XXAlX.  Stanza  28 : 

"  To  ships,  and  barks,  with  gallies,  bulks  and  crayes,"  &c. 
Again,  in  Heywood's  Golden  Age,  1611 : 

*'  Behold  a  form  to  make  your  craers  and  barks." 
Again,  in  Drayton's  Miseries  of  Queen  Margaret : 
**  After  a  long  chase  took  this  little  cray, 
"  Which  he  suppos'd  him  safely  should  convey." 
Again,  in  the  22d  Song  of  Drayton's  Polyolbion  : 

" some  shell,  or  little  crea, 

"  Hard  labouring  for  the  land  on  the  high  working  sea." 
Again,  in  Amintas  for  his  Phillis,  published  in  England's 
Helicon,  1600: 

"  Till  thus  my  soule  dooth  passe  in  Charon's  crare." 
Mr.  Toilet  observes  that  the  word  often  occurs  in  Holinshed, 
as  twice,  p.  906,  Vol.  II.     STE EVENS. 

The  word  is  used  in  the  stat.  2  Jac.  I.  c.  32 :  " the  owner 

of  every  ship,  vessel,  or  crayer."     TYRWHITT. 

Perhaps  Shakspeare  wrote — thou,  si uggish  crare,  might 'st,  &c. 
The  epithet  sluggish  is  used  with  equal  propriety,  a  crayer  being 
a  very  slow-sailing  unwieldy  vessel.  See  Florio's  Italian  Diet. 
1598,  "  Vurchio.  A  hulke,  a  crayer,  a  lyter,  a  wherrie,  or 
such  vessel  of  burthen."  MALONE. 

8  but  /,]     This  is  the  reading  of  the  first  folio,  which 

later  editors  not  understanding,  have  changed  into  but  ah  !  The 
meaning  of  the  passage  I  take  to  be  this : — Jove  knows,  what  man 
thou  might'st  have  made,  but  I  know,  thou  died'st,  &c. 

TYRWHITT. 

I  believe,  "  but  ah  !"  to  be  the  true  reading.  Ay  is  through 
the  first  folio,  and  in  all  books  of  that  time,  printed  instead  of 
ah  !  Hence  probably  7,  which  was  used  for  the  affirmative  par- 
ticle ay,  crept  into  the  text  here. 

Heaven  knows  (says  Belarius)  what  a  man  thou  voould'st  have 
been,  had'st  thou  lived ;  but  alas !  ihou  died&t  of  mel-ancholy, 
whilt  yet  only  a  most  accomplished  boy.  MALOXE. 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  575 

ARV.  Stark,9  as  you  see : 

Thus  smiling,  as  some  fly  had  tickled  slumber, 
Not  as  death's  dart,  being  laugh'd  at :  his  right 

cheek 
Reposing  on  a  cushion. 

GUI.  Where  ? 

ARV.  O'the  floor ; 

His  arms  thus  leagu'd:  I  thought,  he  slept;  and  put 
My  clouted  brogues1  from  off* my  feet,  whose  rude- 
ness 
Answer'd  my  steps  too  loud. 

GUI.  Why,  he  but  sleeps :  * 

If  he  be  gone,  he'll  make  his  grave  a  bed ; 
With  female  fairies  will  his  tomb  be  haunted, 
And  worms  will  not  come  to  thee.3 


'  Stark,"]  i.  e.  stiff.     So,  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

" guiltless  labour 

'*  When  it  lies  starkly  in  the  traveller's  bones." 
Again,  in  King  Henry  IV.  Part  I: 

"  And  many  a  nobleman  lies  stark — 

"  Under  the  hoofs  of  vaunting  enemies."     STEEVENS. 

1  clouted  brogues — ]    are  shoes  strengthened  with  clout 

or  hob-nails.  In  some  parts  of  England,  thin  plates  of  iron 
called  clouts,  are  likewise  fixed  to  the  shoes  of  ploughmen  and 
other  rusticks.  Brog  is  the  Irish  word  for  a  kind  of  shoe  pecu- 
liar to  that  kingdom.  STEEVENS. 

3  Why,  he  but  sleeps :  ]  I  cannot  forbear  to  introduce  a  passage 
somewhat  like  this,  from  Webster's  White  Devil,  or  Vittoria 
Corombona,  [1612]  on  account  of  its  singular  beauty: 

Oh,  thou  soft  natural  death !  thou  art  joint  twin 
To  sweetest  slumber !  no  rough-bearded  comet 
Stares  on  thy  mild  departure :  the  dull  owl 
Beats  not  against  thy  casement :  the  hoarse  wolf 
Scents  not  thy  carrion : — pity  winds  thy  corse, 
While  horror  waits  on  princes !"     SXEEVENS. 
3  And  iKorms  will  not  come  to  thee.]     This   change  to  the 
second  person  from  the  third,  is  so  violent,  that  I  cannot  help  im- 


576  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

ARV.  With  fairest  flowers, 

Whilst  summer  lasts,4  and  I  live  here,  Fidele, 
I'll  sweeten  thy  sad  grave  :  Thou  shalt  not  lack 
The  flower,  that's  like  thy  face,  pale  primrose  j  nor 
The  azur'd  hare-bell,  like  thy  veins ;  no,  nor 
The  leaf  of  eglantine,  whom  not  to  slander, 
Out-sweeten'd  not  thy  breath  :  the  ruddock  would, 
With  charitable  bill  (O  bill,  sore-shaming 
Those  rich-left  heirs,  that  let  their  fathers  lie 
Without  a  monument !)  bring  thee  all  this ; 
Yea, and  furr'd  moss  besides,  when  flowers  are  none, 
To  winter-ground  thy  corse.5 


puling  it  to  the  players,  transcribers,  or  printers ;  and  therefore 
wish  to  read : 

And  worms  ivill  not  come  to  him.     STEEVENS. 

*  With  fairest  flowers, 

Whilst  summer  lasts,  #c.]    So,  in  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre, 
(edit.  1609) : 

No,  I  will  rob  Tellus  of  her  weede, 

To  strewe  thy  greene  with  flowers,  the  yellowes,  blues, 

The  purple  violets  and  marygolds, 

Shall  as  a  carpet  hang  upon  thy  grave, 

While  summer  dayes  doth  last.""     STEEVENS. 

*  the  ruddock  would,  • 

With  charitable  bill, bring  thee  all  this  ; 

yea,  and  furr'd  moss  besides,  when  Jlowers  are  none, 
To  winter-ground  thy  corse.']  Here  again,  the  metaphor  is 
strangely  mangled.  What  sense  is  there  in  winter-grounding  a 
corse  with  moss?  A  corse  might  indeed  be  said  to  be  winter- 
grounded  in  good  thick  clay.  But  the  epithet  furred  to  moss 
directs  us  plainly  to  another  reading : 

To  winter-gown  thy  corse; 

i.  e.  thy  summer  habit  shall  be  a  light  gown  of  Jlowers,   thy 
winter  habit  a  good  warm  furr'd  gown  of  moss. 

WARBURTON. 

I  have  no  doubt  but  that  the  rejected  word  was  Shakspeare's, 
since  the  protection  of  the  dead,  and  not  their  ornament,  was 
what  he  meant  to  express.  To  winter-ground  a  plant,  is  to  pro- 
tect it  from  the  inclemency  of  the  winter-season,  by  straw, 
dung,  &c.  laid  over  it.  This  precaution  is  commonly  taken  in 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  577. 

GUI.  Pr'ythee,  have  done ; 

And  do  not  play  in  wench-like  words  with  that 


respect  of  tender  trees  or  flowers,  such  as  Arviragus,  who  loved 
Fidele,  represents  her  to  be. 

The  ruddock  is  the  red-breast,  and  is  so  called  by  Chaucer  and 
Spenser : 

",  The  tame  ruddock,  and  the  coward  kite." 
The  office  of  covering  the  dead  is  likewise  ascribed  to  the 
ruddock,  by  Drayton  in  his  poem  called  The  Ovd : 

"  Cov'ring  with  moss  the  dead's  unclosed  eye, 
"  The  little  red-breast  teacheth  charitie." 
See  also,  Lupton's  Thousand  Notable  Things,  B.  I.  p.  10. 

STEEVENS. 

the  ruddock  would,  &c.]  Is  this  an  allusion  to  the  Babes 

of  the  Wood,  or  was  the  notion  of  the  red-breast  covering  dead 
bodies,  general  before  the  writing  that  ballad  ?     PERCY* 

In  Cornucopia,  or  divers  Secrets  wherein  is  contained  the  rare 
Secrets  in  Man,  Beasts,  Foules,  Fishes,  Trees,  Plantes,  Stones, 
-and  such  like  most  pleasant  and  profitable,  and  not  before  commit' 
ted  to  bee  printed  in  English.  Newlie  dratven  out  of  divers  La- 
tine  Authors  into  English,  by  Thomas  Johnson,  4to.  1596,  sig- 
nat.  E.  it  is  said :  "  The  robin  redbrest  if  he  find  a  man  or  wo- 
man dead,  will  cover  all  his  face  with  mosse,  and  some  thinke 
that  if  the  body  should  remaine  unburied  that  he  would  cover 
the  whole  body  also."  REED. 

This  passage  is  imitated  by  Webster  in  his  tragedy  of  The 
White  Devil ;  and  in  such  manner  as  confirms  the  old  reading : 
Call  for  the  robin-red-breast  and  the  wren, 
Since  o'er  shady  groves  they  hover, 
And  with  leaves  and  flowers  do  cover 
The  friendless  bodies  of  unburied  men ; 
Call  unto  his  funeral  dole 
The  ant,  the  field-mouse,  and  the  mole, 
To  rear  him  hillocks  that  shall  keep  him  warm,"  <fcc. 

FARMER. 

Which  of  these  two  plays  was  first  written,  cannot  now  be 
determined.  Webster's  play  was  published  in  1612,  that  qf 
Shakspeare  did  not  appear  in  print  till  1623.  In  the  preface  to 
the  edition  of  Webster's  play,  he  thus  speaks  of  Shakspeare : 
"  And  lastly  (without  wrong  last  to  be  named)  the  right  happy 
and  copious  industry  of  M.  Shakspeare,"  &c.  STEEVENS. 

We  may  fairly  conclude  that  Webster  imitated  Shakspeare ; 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  P 


A78  CYMBELINE.  ACTTT. 

Which  is  so  serious.  Let  us  bury  him, 
And  not  protract  with  admiration  what 
Is  now  due  debt. — To  the  grave. 

ARV.  Say,  where  shall's  lay  him  ? 

GUI.  By  good  Euriphile,  our  mother. 

ARV.  Be't  so : 

And  let  us,  Polydore,  though  now  our  voices 
Have  got  the  mannish  crack,  sing  him  to  the  ground, 
As  once  our  mother  j6  use  like  note,  and  words, 
Save  that  Euriphile  must  be  Fidele, 

GUI.  Cadwal, 

I  cannot  sing :  I'll  weep,  and  word  it  with  thee  : 
For  notes  of  sorrow,  out  of  tune,  are  worse 
Than  priests  and  fanes  that  lie. 


for  in  the  same  page  from  which  Dr.  Farmer  has  cited  the  fore- 
going lines,  is  found  a  passage  taken  almost  literally  from 
Hamlet.  It  is  spoken  by  a  distracted  lady : 

" you're  very  welcome ; 

"  Here's  rosemary  for  you,  and  rue  for  you ; 

41  Heart's  ease  for  you  ;  I  pray  make  much  of  it ; 

*'  I  have  left  more  for  myself." 

Dr.  Warburton  asks,  *'  What  sense  is  there  in  winter- 
grounding  a  corse  with  moss  ?"  But  perhaps  winter-ground  does- 
not  refer  to  moss,  but  to  the  last  antecedent,  flowers.  If  tin's 
was  the  construction  intended  by  Shakspeare,  the  passage  should 
be  printed  thus : 

Yea,  and  furred  moss  besides, — when  flowers  arc  none 

To  winter-ground  thy  corse. 

f.  e.  you  shall  have  also  a  warm  covering  of  moss,  when  thero 
are  no  flowers  to  adorn  thy  grave  with  that  ornament  with  which 
WINTER  is  usually  decorated.  So,  in  Cupid's  Revenge,  by 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  1625:  "  He  looks  like  WINTER,  stuck 
here  and  there  with  fresh^otcers." — I  have  not,  however,  much 
confidence  hi  this  observation.  M ALONE. 

0  As  once  our  mother;"}     The  old  copy  reads  : 

As  once  to  our  mother; 

The  compositor  having  probably  caught  the  word — to  from  the 
preceding  line.  The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope. 

MA  LONE. 


sc.n.  CYMBELINE.  579 

ARV.  We'll  speak  it  then. 

BEL.  Great  griefs,  I  see,  medicine  the  less:7 

for  Cloten 

Is  quite  forgot.  He  was  a  queen's  son,  boys : 
And,  though  he  came  our  enemy,  remember, 
He  was  paid  for  that:8  Though  mean  and  mighty, 

rotting 

Together,  have  one  dust ;  yet  reverence, 
(That  angel  of  the  world,9)  doth  make  distinction 
Uf  place   'tween  high  and   low.     Our  foe   was 

princely ; 

And  though  you  took  his  life,  as  being  our  foe, 
Yet  bury  him  as  a  prince. 

GUI.  Pray  you,  fetch  him  hither. 

Thersites*  body  is  as  good  as  Ajax, 
When  neither  are  alive. 


7  Great  griefs,  I  see,  medicine  the  less :"]     So  again,  in  this 
play: 

" a  touch  more  rare 

"  Subdues  all  pangs,  all  fears." 
Again,  in  King  Lear: 

" '  Where  the  greater  malady  is  fix'd, 

"  The  lesser  is  scarce  felt."     MA  LONE. 

8  He  was  paid  for  that  .•]  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  reads: 

He  has  paid  for  that : 

rather  plausibly  than  rightly.  Paid  is  for  punished.  So,  Jonsom 
"  Twenty  things  more,  my  friend,  which  you  know  due, 
"  For  which,  or  pay  me  quickly,  or  I'll  pay  you." 

JOHNSON. 

So  Falstaff,  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  after  having 
been  beaten,  when  in  the  dress  of  an  old  woman,  says,  "  I  pay'd 
nothing  for  it  neither,  but  was  paid  for  my  learning."  See  Vol. 
V.  p.  185,  n.  7 ;  and  Vol.  XI.  p.  286,  n.  2.  MALONE. 


reverence, 


(  That  angel  of  the  world,) — ]  Reverence,  or  due  Regard  to 
subordination,  is  the  power  that  keeps  peace  and  order  in  the 
world.  JOHNSON. 

2  P  2 


580  CYMBELINE.  ACT  1Y. 


If  you'll  go  fetch  him, 
We'll  say  our  song  the  whilst.  —  Brother,  begin. 

[Exit  BELARIUS. 

GUI.  Nay,  Cadwal,  we  must  lay  his  head  to  the 

east; 
My  father  hath  a  reason  for't. 

ARV.  JTis  true. 

GUI.  Come  on  then,  and  remove  him. 
Anv.  So,  —  Begin. 

SONG. 

GUI.  Fear  no  more  the  heat  o'the  sun,1 
Nor  the  furious  winter's  rages  ; 

Thou  thy  'worldly  task  hast  done, 
Home  art  gone,  and  to?  en  thy  wages  : 

Golden  lads  and  girls  all  must, 

As  chimney-sweepers,  come  to  dust. 

ARV.  Fear  no  more  the  frown  o'the  great, 
Thou  art  past  the  tyranfs  stroke; 

Care  no  more  to  clothe,  and  eat  ; 
To  thee  the  reed  is  as  the  oak: 

The  sceptre,  learning,  physick,  must 

All  follow  this,  and  come  to  dust.2 


'  Fear  no  more  &.C."]  This  is  the  topick  of  consolation  that 
nature  dictates  to  all  men  on  these  occasions.  The  same  fare* 
well  we  have  over  the  dead  body  in  Lucian.  Tfxvov  afiAiov 
"exert  ifytyo-sis,  HKSTI  msivijffsis,  &c.  WARBURTON. 

9  The  sceptre,  learning,  &c.]  The  poet's  sentiment  seems  to 
have  been  this : — All  human  excellence  is  equally  subject  to  the 
stroke  of  death: — neither  the  power  of  kings,  nor  the  science  of 
scholars,  nor  the  art  of  those  whose  immediate  study  is  the  pro- 
longation of  life,  can  protect  them  from  the  final  destiny  of 
man.  JOHNSON. 


so.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  581 

GUI.  Fear  no  more  the  lightningjlash, 
ARV.  Nor  the  all-dreaded  thunder-stone  ;3 
GUI.  Fear  not  slander ,  censure  rash  ;4 
ARV.  Thou  hast  finish*  d  joy  and  moan: 
BOTH.  All  lovers  young^  all  lovers  must 
Consign  to  thee,5  and  come  to  dust. 

GUI.  No  exerciser  harm  thee!6 
ARV.  Nor  no  witchcraft  charm  thee  ! 
GUI.  Ghost  unlaid  forbear  thee  ! 
ARV.  Nothing  ill  come  near  thee! 
BOTH.  Quiet  consummation  have  ;7 

And  renowned  be  thy  grave!* 


3 the  all-dreaded  thunder-stone ;]     So,  in   Chapman's 

translation  of  the  fifteenth  Iliad: 

" though  I  sinke  beneath 

"  The  fate  of  being  shot  to  hell  by  Jove's  fell  thunder- 

stone"     STEEVENS. 
4  Fear  not  slander,  &c.]     Perhaps  : 

Fear  not  slander's  censure  rash.     JOHNSON. 

3  Consign  to  thee,]     Perhaps : 

Consign  to  this, 

And  in  the  former  stanza,  for — All  follow  this,  we  might  read 
— All  follow  thee.    JOHNSON. 

Consign  to  thee  is  right.     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet : 

" seal 

"  A  dateless  bargain  to  engrossing  death." 
To  consign  to  thee,  is  to  seal  the  same  contract  with  thee,  i.  e.  add 
their  names  to  thine  upon  the  register  of  death.     STEEVENS. 

6  No  exerciser  harm  thee  /]     I  have  already  remarked  that 
Shakspeare  invariably  uses  the  word  exerciser  to  express  a  person 
who  can  raise  spirits,  not  one  who  lays  them.     M.  MASON. 

See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  407,  n.  3.     MALONE. 

7  Quiet  consummation  have  ;  ]      Consummation  is  used  in  the 

sense  in  King  Edward  III.  1596 : 
"  My  soul  will  yield  this  castle  of  my  flesh, 
"  This  mangled  tribute,  with  all  willingness, 
"  To  darkness,  consummation,  dust  and  worms." 


582  CYMBELINE.  ACT  iv. 


Re-enter  BELARIUS,  with  the  Body  of  CLOTEN. 

GUI.  We  have  done  our  obsequies :  Come  lay 
him  down. 

BEL.  Here's  a  few  flowers;    but  about  mid- 
night, more : 

The  herbs,  that  have  on  them  cold  dew  o'the  night, 
Are  strewings  fitt'st  for  graves.  —  Upon  their 

faces:9 — 

You  were  as  flowers,  now  wither'd :  even  so 
These  herb'lets  shall,  which  we  upon  you  strow. — 
Come  on,  away:  apart  upon  our  knees. 
The  ground,  that  gave  them  first,  has  them  again : 
Their  pleasures  here  are  past,  so  is  their  pain. 

[Exeunt  BELARIUS,   GUIDERIUS,  and  AR- 

VIRAGUS. 
IMO.  [Awaking.']    Yes,  sir,  to  Milford-Haven ; 

Which  is  the  way  ? — 

I  thank  you. — By  yon  bush  ? — Pray,  how  far  thi- 
ther? 

Milton,  in  his  Epitaph  on  the  Marchioness  of  Winchester^  U 
indebted  to  the  passage  before  us: 

"  Gentle  lady,  may  thy  grave 

'*  Peace  and  quiet  ever  have !"     STEEVENS. 

So  Hamlet  says : 

" 'tis  a  consummation 

"  Devoutly  to  be  wish'd."     M.  MASON. 

* iky  grave  /]     For  the  obsequies  of  Fidele,  a  song  was 

written  by  my  unhappy  friend,  Mr.  William  Collins  of  Chi- 
chester,  a  roan  of  uncommon  learning  and  abilities.  I  shall  give 
it  a  place  at  the  end,  in  honour  of  his  memory.  JOHNSON. 

0 Upon  their  faces :~]  Shakspeare  did  not  recollect  when 

he  wrote  these  words,  that  there  was  but  one  face  on  which  the 
flowers  could  be  strewed.  This  passage  might  have  taught  Dr. 
Warburton  not  to  have  disturbed  the  text  in  a  former  scene.  See 
p.  556,  n.  2.  MALONE. 


sc.  IT.  CYMBELINE.  583 

'Ods  pittikins ! J — can  it  be  six  miles  yet  ? — 

I  have  gone  all  night : — 'Faith,  I'll  lie  down  and 

sleep. 

But,  soft !  no  bedfellow : — O,  gods  and  goddesses! 

[Seeing  tlie  Body. 

These  flowers  are  like  the  pleasures  of  the  world ; 
This  bloody  man,  the  care  on't. — I  hope,  I  dream  ; 
For,  so,  I  thought  I  was  a  cave-keeper, 
And  cook  to  honest  creatures :  But  'tis  not  so ; 
"Twas  but  a  bolt  of  nothing,  shot  at  nothing, 
Which  the  brain  makes  of  fumes  :2  Our  very  eyes 
Are  sometimes  like  our  judgments,  blind.     Good 

faith, 

I  tremble  still  with  fear  :  But  if  there  be 
Yet  left  in  heaven  as  small  a  drop  of  pity 
As  a  wren's  eye,  fear'd  gods,  a  part  of  it ! 
The  dream's  here  still :  even  when  I  wake,  it  is 
Without  me,  as  within  me ;  not  imagin'd,  felt. 
A  headless  man  ! — The  garments  of  Posthiimus  ! 
I  know  the  shape  of  his  leg :  this  is  his  hand  ; 
His  foot  Mercurial ;  his  Martial  thigh  ; 
The  brawns  of  Hercules  :  but  his  Jovial  face3 — 


1  'Ods  pittikins  /]     This  diminutive  adjuration  is  used  by 
Pecker  and  Webster  in  Westward  Hoe,  1607 ;    in  The  Shoe- 
maker's Holiday,  or  The  Gentle  Craft,  1600.    It  is  derived  from 
God's  my  pity,  which  likewise  occurs  in  Cymbeline. 

STEEVENS. 

2  Which  the  brain  makes  of  fumes :]   So,  in  Macbeth  : 

"  That  memory,  the  warder  of  the  brain, 

"  Shall  be  afume."     STEEVENS. 

3 his  Jovial  face — ]     Jovial  face  signifies  in  this  place, 

such  a  face  as  belongs  to  Jove.  It  is  frequently  used  in  the  same 
sense  by  other  old  dramatick  writers.  So,  Heywood,  in  The 
Silver  Age  : 

" Alcides  here  will  stand, 

"  To  plague  you  all  with  his  high  Jovial  hand." 
Again,  in  Heywood's  Rape  of  Lucrece,  1630: 

"  Thou  Jovial  hand  hold  up  thy  scepter  high.'* 


584-  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

Murder  in  heaven  ? — How  ? — 'Tis  gone. — Pisanio, 
All  curses  madded  Hecuba  gave  the  Greeks, 
And  mine  to  boot,  be  darted  on  thee  !  Thou, 
Conspir'd  with  that  irregulous  devil,4  Cloten, 
Hast  here  cut  off  my  lord. — To  write,  and  read, 
Be  henceforth  treacherous  ! — Damn'd  Pisanio 
Hath  with  his  forged  letters, — damn'd  Pisanio — 
From  this  most  bravest  vessel  of  the  world 
Struck  the  main-top  !5 — O,  Posthumus  !  alas, 
Where   is  thy   head  ?    where's   that  ?    Ah    me ! 

where's  that  ? 

Pisanio  might  have  kill'd  thee  at  the  heart, 
And  left  this  head  on.6 — How  should  this  be  ? 

Pisanio  ? 

'Tis  he,  and  Cloten  :  malice  and  lucre  in  them 
Have  laid  this  woe  here.     O,  'tis  pregnant,  preg- 
nant!7 


Again,  in  his  Golden  Age,  1611,  speaking  of  Jupiter: 

"  __, all  that  stand, 

"  Sink  in  the  weight  of  his  high  Jovial  hand." 

STEEVENS. 

4  Consnir'dtvith  that  irregulous  devil,~\ 1  suppose  it  should  be — 
Conspir'd  with  th'  irreligious  devil, .  JOHNSON. 

Irregulous  (if  there  be  such  a  word)  must  mean  lawless,  li- 
centious, out  of  rule,  jura  negans  sibi  nata.  In  Reinolds's  God's 
Revenge  against  Adultery,  edit.  1679,  p.  121,  I  meet  with  "  ir« 
regulated  lust."  STEEVENS. 

4 the  main-top!']     i.  e.  the  top  of  the  mainmast. 

STEEVENS, 

0  Pisanio  might  have  kill'd  thee  at  the  heart, 
And  left  this  head  on — ]     I  would  willingly  read  : 
And  left  thy  head  on.     STEEVENS. 

This  head  means  the  head  of  Posthumus  ;  the  head  that  did 
belong  to  this  body.  See  p.  582,  n.  9.  MALONE. 

7 'tis  pregnant,  pregnant !]     i.  e.  'tis  a  ready,  apposite 

conclusion.     So,  in  Hamlet: 

"  How  pregnant  sometimes  his  replies  are !" 
See  Vol.  VI.  p.  191,  n.  5.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE.  585 

The  drug  he  gave  me,  which,  he  said,  was  precious 
And  cordial  to  me,  have  I  not  found  it 
Murd'rous  to  the  senses  ?  That  confirms  it  home : 
This  is  Pisanio's  deed,  and  Cloten's :  O ! — 
Give  colour  to  my  pale  cheek  with  thy  blood, 
That  we  the  horrider  may  seem  to  those 
Which  chance  to  find  us  :  O,  my  lord,  my  lord ! 


Enter  Lucius,  a  Captain,  and  other  Officers,  and 
a  Soothsayer. 

CAP.  To  them  the  legions  garrison'd  in  Gallia, 
After  your  will,  have  cross'd  the  sea  ;  attending 
You  here  at  Milford-Haven,  with  your  ships : 
They  are  here  in  readiness. 

LUG.  But  what  from  Rome  ? 

CAP.  The  senate  hath  stirr'd  up  the  confiners, 
And  gentlemen  of  Italy ;  most  willing  spirits, 
That  promise  noble  service :  and  they  come 
Under  the  conduct  of  bold  lachimo, 
Sienna's  brother.8 

Luc.  When  expect  you  them? 

CAP.  With  the  next  benefit  o'the  wind. 

Luc.  This  forwardness 

Makes  our  hopes  fair.  Command,  our  present  num- 
bers 

Be  muster'd;  bid  the  captains  look  to't. — Now,  sir, 
What  have  you  dream'd,  of  late,  of  this  war's  pur- 
pose ? 


8  Sienna's  brother."]  i.  e.  (as  I  suppose  Shakspeare  to  have 
meant)  brother  to  the  Prince  of  Sienna;  but,  unluckily,  Sienna 
was  a  republick.  See  W.  Thomas's  Historye  of  Italy  ey  4to.  bl. 
1, 1561,  p.  7,  b.  STEEVENS. 


586  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

SOOTH.  Last  night  the  very  gods  show'd  me  a 

vision  :9 

(I  fast,  and  pray'd,1  fortheir  intelligence,)  Thus : — 
I  saw  Jove's  bird,  the  Roman  eagle,  wing'd 
From  the  spongy  south3  to  this  part  of  the  west, 
There  vanished  in  the  sunbeams :  which  portends, 
(Unless  my  sins  abuse  my  divination,) 
Success  to  the  Roman  host. 

Luc.  Dream  often  so, 

And  never  false. — Soft,  ho  !  what  trunk  is  here, 
Without  his  top  ?  The  ruin  speaks,  that  sometime 
It  was  a  worthy  building. — How  !  a  page! — 
Or  dead,  or  sleeping  on  him  ?  But  dead,  rather : 
For  nature  doth  abhor  to  make  his  bed 
With  the  defunct,  or  sleep  upon  the  dead. — 
Let's  see  the  boy's  face. 

CAP.  He  is  alive,  my  lord. 

Luc.  He'll  then  instruct  us  of  this  body. — Young 

one, 

Inform  us  of  thy  fortunes  ;  for,  it  seems, 
They  crave  to  be  demanded :  Who  is  this, 
Thou  mak'st  thy  bloody  pillow  ?  Or  who  was  he, 
That,  otherwise  than  noble  nature  did, 
Hath  alter'd  that  good  picture  ?3  What's  thy  interest 

9  Last  night  the  very  gods  shoiu'd  me  a  vision  :]  It  was  no 
common  dream,  but  sent  from  the  very  gods,  or  the  gods  them- 
selves. JOHNSON. 

1  /  fast,  and  pray'd,']  Fast  is  here  very  licentiously  used  for 
fasted.  So,  in  the  novel  subjoined  to  this  play,  we  find — lift  for 
lifted.  MALONE. 

* the  spongy  south — ]     Milton  has  availed  himself  of 

this  epithet,  in  his  Masque  at  Ludlow  Castle  : 

« Thus  I  hurl 

"  My  dazzling  spells  into  the  spungy  air."     STEEVKNS. 
ivho  tuns  he, 


That,  otherwise  than  noble  nature  did, 

Halh  alter'd  that  good  picture  ?~]     To  do  a  picture,  and  a 


w.  u.  CYMBELINE.  587 

In  this  sad  wreck  ?  How  came  it  ?  Who  is  it  ? 
What  art  thou  ? 

IMO.  I  am  nothing :  or  if  not, 

Nothing  to  be  were  better.     This  was  my  master, 
A  very  valiant  Briton,  and  a  good, 
That  here  by  mountaineers  lies  slain: — Alas! 
There  are  no  more  such  masters :  I  may  wander 
From  east  to  Occident,  cry  out  for  service, 
Try  many,  all  good,  serve  truly,  never4 
Find  such  another  master. 

Luc.  'Lack,  good  youth! 

Thou  mov'st  no  less  with  thy  complaining,  than 
Thy  master  in  bleeding :  Say  his  name,  good  friend. 

IMO.  Richard  du  Champ.5     If  I  do  lie,  and  do 


picture  is  well  done,  are  standing  phrases ;  the  question  there- 
tore  is, — Who  has  altered  this  picture,  so  as  to  make  it  otherwise 
than  nature  did  it  ?  JOHNSON. 

Olivia,  speaking  of  her  own  beauty  as  of  a  picture,  asks  Viola 
if  it  "  is  not  well  done  ?" 

Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  Iliad: 

" The  golden  scourge  most  elegantly  done 

"  He  tooke,  and  mounted  to  his  seate — ." 
Again,  in  the  14th  Book : 

" I'll  grace  thee  with  a  throne 

"  Incorruptible,  all  of  gold,  and  elegantly  done 
"  By  Mulciber."     STEEVENS. 

Fecit  was,  till  lately,  the  technical  term  universally  annexed 
to  pictures  and  engravings.  HENLEY. 

*  Try  many,  all  good,  serve  truly,  never — ]  We  may  be  cer- 
tain that  this  line  was  originally  complete.  I  would,  therefore, 
for  the  sake  of  metre,  read : 

Try  many,  and  all  good;  serve  truly,  never  &c. 
It  may  be  here  observed,  that  the  following  is  Chapman's  ver- 
sion of  a  passage  in  the  14th  Odyssey  of  Homer: 

" for  I  never  shall 

"  Finde  so  humane  a  royall  mayster  more, 
"  Whatever  sea  I  seeke,  whatever  shore."     STEEVENS. 
"  Richard  du  Champ.'}     Shakspeare.  was  indebted  for  his  mo- 


588  CYMBELINE,  ACT  ir. 

No  harm  by  it,  though  the  gods  hear,  I  hope 

[Aside. 
They'll  pardon  it.     Say  you,  sir  ? 

Luc.  Thy  name  ? 

IMO.  Fidele. s 

Luc.  Thou  dost  approve  thyself  the  very  same; 
Thy  name  well  fits  thy  faith  ;7  thy  faith,  thy  name. 
Wilt  take  thy  chance  with  me  ?  I  will  not  say, 
Thou  shalt  be  so  well  mastered;  but,  be  sure, 
No  less  belov'd.     The  Roman  emperor's  letters, 
Sent  by  a  consul  to  me,  should  not  sooner 
Than  thine  own  worth  prefer  thee :  Go  with  me. 

IMO.  I'll  follow,  sir.     But  first,  an't  please  the 
gods, 

dern  names  (which  sometimes  are  mixed  with  ancient  ones)  as 
well  as  his  anachronisms,  to  the  fashionable  novels  of  his  time. 
In  a  collection  of  stories,  entitled  A  Petite  Palace  ofPettie  his 
Pleasure,  1576,  I  find  the  following  circumstances  of  ignorance 
and  absurdity.  In  the  story  of  the  Horatii  and  the  Curiatii,  the 
roaring  of  cannons  is  mentioned.  Cephalus  and  Procris  are  said 
to  be  of  the  court  of  Venice ;  and  "  that  her  father  -wrought  so 
icith  the  duke,  that  this  Cephalus  was  sent  post  in  ambassage  to  the 
Turke — Eriphile,  after  the  death  of  her  husband  Amphiaraus, 
(the  Theban  prophet]  calling  to  mind  the  affection  wherein  Don 
Infortunio  was  drowned  towards  her,"  &c.  Cannon-shot  is 
found  in  Golding's  version  of  Ovid's  Metamorphosis,  B.  III. 

STEEVENS. 

This  absurdity  was  not  confined  to  novels.  In  Lodge's 
Wounds  ofCiuill  War,  1594,  one  of  the  directions  is,  "  Enter 
Lucius  Fauorinus,  Pausanias,  with  Pedro  a  Frenchman,"  who 
speaks  broken  English  ;  the  earliest  dramatick  specimen  of  this 
sort  of  jargon  now  extant.  RITSON. 

6  Fidele.~\    Old  copy — Fidele,  sir;  but  for  the  sake  of  metre 
I  have  omitted  this  useless  word  of  address,  which  has  already 
occurred  in  the  same  line.     STEEVENS. 

7  Thy  name  tuelljits  thy  faith  ;]     A  similar  thought  has  been 
already  met  with  in  King  Henry  V.  where  Pistol  having  an- 
nounced his  name,  the  King  replies :  "  It  sorts  well  with  your 
fierceness."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  ii.  CYMBELINE, 

I'll  hide  my  master  from  the  flies,  as  deep 
As  these  poor  pickaxes8  can  dig :  and  when 
With  wild  wood-leaves  and  weeds  I  have  strew* d 

his  grave, 

And  on  it  said  a  century  of  prayers, 
Such  as  I  can,  twice  o'er,  I'll  weep,  and  sigh  ; 
And,  leaving  so  his  service,  follow  you, 
So  please  you  entertain  me.9 

Luc.  Ay,  good  youth ; 

And  rather  father  thee,  than  master  thee. — 
My  friends, 

The  boy  hath  taught  us  manly  duties  :  Let  us 
Find  out  the  prettiest  daizied  plot  we  can, 
And  make  him  with  our  pikes  and  partisans 
A  grave :  *  Come,  arm  him.2 — Boy,  he  is  preferred 
By  thee  to  us ;  and  he  shall  be  interr'd, 
As  soldiers  can.     Be  cheerful ;  wipe  thine  eyes : 
Some  falls  are  means  the  happier  to  arise.  \_Exeunt. 


8 these  poor  pickaxes — ]  Meaning  her  fingers. 

JOHNSON. 

0  So  please  you  entertain  me.']  i.  e.  hire  me ;  receive  me  unto 
your  service.     See  Vol.  V.  p.  42,  n.  6 ;    and  Vol.  XVI.  p.  177, 
n.  3.    MALONE. 

1  And  make  him  laith  our  pikes  and  partisans 

A  grave:]  Surely  the  Roman  troops  had  no  pioneers  among 
them ;  and  how  a  grave  could  be  made  with  such  instruments  as 
are  here  specified,  our  poet  has  not  informed  us.  After  all,  a 
grave  is  not  made  ;  but  Cloten  is  found  lying  on  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  with  the  supposed  remains  of  Imogen.  STEEVENS. 

2 arm  him.']     That  is,  Take  him  up  in  your  arms. 

HANMER. 

So,  in  Fletcher's  Two  Noble  Kinsmen  : 

" Arm  your  prize, 

**  I  know  you  will  not  lose  her." 
The  prize  was  Emilia.     STEEVENS, 


590  CYMBELINE.  ACT  ir. 

• 
SCENE  III. 

A  Room  in  Cymbeline's  Palace.* 
Enter  CYMBELINE,  Lords,  and  PISANIO. 

CYM.  Again;  and  bring  me  word,  how  'tis  with 

her. 

A  fever  with  the  absence  of  her  son  ; 
A  madness,  of  which  her  life's  in  danger  : — Hea- 
vens, 

How  deeply  you  at  once  do  touch  me  !  Imogen, 
The  great  part  of  my  comfort,  gone :  my  queen 
Upon  a  desperate  bed ;  and  in  a  time 
When  fearful  wars  point  at  me ;  her  son  gone> 
So  needful  for  this  present :  It  strikes  me,  past 
The  hope  of  comfort. — But  for  thee,  fellow, 
Who  needs  must  know  of  her  departure,  and 
Dost  seem  so  ignorant,  we'll  enforce  it  from  thee 
By  a  sharp  torture. 

Pis.  Sir,  my  life  is  yours, 

I  humbly  set  it  at  your  will :  But,  for  my  mistress, 
I  nothing  know  where  she  remains,  why  gone, 

3  — —  Cymbeline's  Palace.']  This  scene  is  omitted  against  all 
authority  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  It  is  indeed  of  no  great  use  in  the 
progress  of  the  fable,  yet  it  makes  a  regular  preparation  for  the 
next  Act.  JOHNSON. 

The  fact  is,  that  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  has  inserted  this  sup- 
posed omission  as  the  eighth  scene  of  Act  III.  The  scene  which 
in  Dr.  Johnson's  first  edition  is  the  eighth  of  Act  III.  is  printed 
in  a  small  letter  under  it  in  Sir  T.  Hanmer's,  on  a  supposition^ 
that  it  was  spurious.  In  this  impression  it  is  the  third  scene  of 
Act  IV.  and  that  which  in  Dr.  Johnson  is  the  eighth  scene  of 
Act  IV.  is  in  this  the  seventh  scene.  STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  CYMBELINE.  591 

Nor  when  she  purposes  return.     'Beseech  your 

highness, 
Hold  me  your  loyal  servant. 

1  LORD.  Good  my  liege, 

The  day  that  she  was  missing,  he  was  here : 
I  dare  be  bound  he's  true,  and  shall  perform 
All  parts  of  his  subjection  loyally. 
For  Cloten, — 

There  wants  no  diligence  in  seeking  him, 
And  will,4  no  doubt,  be  found. 

CYM.  The  time's  troublesome : 

We'll  slip  you  for  a  season  ;  but  our  jealousy 

[To  PISANXO. 
Does  yet  depend.5 

1  LORD.  So  please  your  majesty, 


4  And  will,]     I  think  it  should  be  read — And  he'll. 

STEEVEKS. 

There  are  several  other  instances  of  the  personal  pronoun  be- 
ing omitted  in  these  plays,  beside  the  present,  particularly  in 
King  Henry  VIII.  nor  is  Shakspeare  the  only  writer  of  that  age 
that  takes  this  liberty.  So,  in  Stowe's  Chronicle,  p.  793,  edit. 

1631 :  " after  that  he  tooke  boat  at  Queen  Hith,  and  so 

came  to  his  house  ;  where  missing  the  afore  named  counsellors, 
fortified  his  house  with  full  purpose  to  die  in  his  own  defence." 

Again,  in  the  Continuation  of  Hardyng's  Chronicle,  1543 : 
"  Then  when  they  heard  that  Henry  was  safe  returned  into  Bri- 
tagne,  rejoyced  not  a  little." 

Again,  in  Anthony  Wood's  Diary,  ad  ann.  1652  :  '*  One  of 
these,  a  most  handsome  virgin, — kneel'd  down  to  Thomas 
Wood,  with  tears  and  prayers  to  save  her  life :  and  being 
strucken  with  a  deep  remorse,  tooke  her  under  his  arme,  went 
with  her  out  of  the  church,"  &c. 

See  also  King  Lear,  Act  II.  sc.  iv.  note  on—  "  Having  more 
man  than  wit  about  me,  drew"  MALONE. 

4 our  jealousy 

Does  yet  depend.'}  My  suspicion  is  yet  undetermined  ;  if  I 
do  not  condemn  you,  I  likewise  have  hot  acquitted  you.  We 
now  say,  the  cause  is  depending.  JOHNSON. 


592  CYMBELINE.  ACT  m 

The  Roman  legions,  all  from  Gallia  drawn, 
Are  landed  on  your  coast ;  with  a  supply 
Of  Roman  gentlemen,  by  the  senate  sent. 

CYM.  Nowforthecounselofmy son, andqueen ! — 
I  am  amaz'd  with  matter.6 

1  LORD.  Good  my  liege, 

Your  preparation  can  affront  no  less 
Than  what  you  hear  of:7  come  more,  for  more 

you're  ready : 

The  want  is,  but  to  put  those  powers  in  motion, 
That  long  to  move. 

CYM.  I  thank  you :  Let's  withdraw : 

And  meet  the  time,  as  it  seeks  us.     We  fear  not 
What  can  from  Italy  annoy  us ;  but 
We  grieve  at  chances  here. — Away.         '[Exeunt. 

Pis.  I  heard  no  letter8  from  my  master,  since 
I  wrote  him,  Imogen  was  slain  :  'Tis  strange: 
Nor  hear  I  from  my  mistress,  who  did  promise 
To  yield  me  often  tidings ;  Neither  know  I 
What  is  betid  to  Cloten ;  but  remain 
Perplex'd  in  all.     The  heavens  still  must  work: 

6  /  am  amaz'd  with  matter.^     i.  e.  confounded  by  a  variety  of 
business.     So,  in  King  John: 

"  I  am  amaz'd,  methinks,  and  lose  my  way, 

"  Among  the  thorns  and  dangers  of  this  world." 

STEEVENS. 

7  Your  preparation  can  affront  #c.]     Your  forces  are  able  to 
face  such  an  army  as  we  hear  the  enemy  will  bring  against  us. 

JOHNSON. 

See  p.  608,  n.  6.     MA  LONE. 

8  I  heard  no  letter — ]     I  suppose  we  should  read  with  Sir  T. 
Hanmer : 

I've  had  no  letter .     STEEVENS. 

Perhaps  letter  here  means,  not  an  epistle,  but  the  elemental 
part  of  a  syllable.  This  might  have  been  a  phrase  in  Slmkspcare's 
time.  We  yet  say — I  have  not  heard  a  syllabic  from  him. 

MALONE. 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE. 

Wherein  I  am  false,  I  am  honest ;  not  true>  to  be 

true.9 

These  present  wars  shall  find  I  love  my  country, 
Even  to  the  note  o'the  king,1  or  I'll  fall  in  them. 
All  other  doubts,  by  time  let  them  be  clear'd : 
Fortune  brings  in  some  boats,  that  are  not  steer'd. 

[Emt. 


SCENE  IV. 

Before  the  Cave. 

Enter  BELARIUS,  GUIDERIUS,  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

GUI.  The  noise  is  round  about  us. 

BEL.  Let  us  from  it. 

ABV.  What  pleasure,    sir,   find  we2  in  life,  to 

lock  it 
From  action  and  adventure  ? 

GUI.  Nay,  what  hope 

Have  we  in  hiding  us  ?  this  way,  the  Romans 
Must  or  for  Britons  slay  us ;  or  receive  us 
For  barbarous  and  unnatural  revolts3 
During  their  use,  and  slay  us  after. 

9 not  true,  to  be  true.'}     The  uncommon  roughness  of 

this  line  persuades  me  that  the  words — to  be,  are  an  interpola- 
tion, which,  to  prevent  an  ellipsis,  has  destroyed  the  measure. 

STEEVENS. 

1 to  the  note  o'the  Icing,"]  I  will  so  distinguish  myself,  the 

king  shall  remark  my  valour.     JOHNSON. 

—find  we — ]     Old  copy — we  find.    Corrected  by  the 


editor  of  the  second  folio.    MALONE. 

a revolts — ]  i.  e.  revolters.     So,  in  King  John  : 

"  Lead  me  to  the  revolts  of  England  here."    STEEVENS. 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  Q 


594  CYMBELINE.  ACTIV. 

BEL.  Sons, 

We'll  higher  to  the  mountains  ;  there  secure  us. 
To  the  king's  party  there's  no  going :  newness 
Of  Cloten's  death  (we  being  not  known,  not  mus- 

ter'd 

Among  the  bands)  may  drive  us  to  a  render 
Where  we  have  liv'd  ;*  and  so  extort  from  us 
That  which  we've  done,  whose  answer5  would  be 

death 
Drawn  on  with  torture. 

GUI.  This  is,  sir,  a  doubt, 

In  such  a  time,  nothing  becoming  you, 
Nor  satisfying  us. 

ARV.  It  is  not  likely, 

That  when  they  hear  the  Roman  horses6  neigh, 
Behold  their  quarter'd  fires,7  have  both  their  eyes 
And  ears  so  cloy'd  importantly  as  now, 


•a  render 


Where  we  have  liv'd ;~\  An  account  of  our  place  of  abode. 
This  dialogue  is  a  just  representation  of  the  superfluous  caution 
of  an  old  man.  JOHNSON. 

Render  is  used  in  a  similar  sense  in  Timon  of  Athens,  Act  V : 
"  And  sends  us  forth  to  make  their  sorrow'd  render" 

STEEVENS. 

So,  again,  in  this  play : 

"  My  boon  is,  that  this  gentleman  may  render, 
"  Of  whom  he  had  this  ring.'*     MALONE. 

* 'whose  ansiuer — ~\      The   retaliation   of  the   death   of 

Cloten  would  be  death,  &c.    JOHNSON. 

6 the  Roman  horses — ]     Old  copy — their  Roman.     This 

ie  one  of  the  many  corruptions  into  which  the  transcriber  was 
led  by  his  ear.    The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe. 

MALONE. 

7 their  quarter 'Ajires,]  Their  fires  regularly  disposed. 

JOHNSON. 

Quartered  Jires,  I  believe,  means  no  more  than  fires  in  the  re- 
spective quarters  of  the  Roman  army.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE,  595 

That  they  will  waste  their  time  upon  our  note, 
To  know  from  whence  we  are. 

BEL.  O,  I  am  known 

Of  many  in  the  army :  many  years, 
Though  Cloten  then  but  young,  you  see,  not  wore 

him 

Prom  my  remembrance.     And,  besides,  the  king 
Hath  not  deserv'd  my  service,  nor  your  loves  $ 
Who  find  in  my  exile  the  want  of  breeding, 
The  certainty  of  this  hard  life ; 8  aye  hopeless 
To  have  the  courtesy  your  cradle  promised, 
But  to  be  still  hot  summer's  tanlmgs,  and 
The  shrinking  slaves  of  winter. 

GUI.  Than  be  so, 

Better  to  cease  to  be.     Pray,  sir,  to  the  army : 
I  and  my  brother  are  not  known ;  yourself, 
So  out  of  thought,  and  thereto  so  o'ergrown,9 
Cannot  be  questioned. 

ARV.  By  this  sun  that  shines, 

I'll  thither :  What  thing  is  it,  that  I  never 
Did  see  man  die  ?  scarce  ever  look'd  on  blood, 
But  that  of  coward  hares,  hot  goats,  and  venison  ? 
Never  bestrid  a  horse,  save  one,  that  had 
A  rider  like  myself,  who  ne'er  wore  rowel 
Nor  iron  on  his  heel?  I  am  asham'd 
To  look  upon  the  holy  sun,  to  have 
The  benefit  of  his  bless'd  beams,  remaining 
So  long  a  poor  unknown. 

GUI.  By  heavens,  I'll  go : 

8  The  certainty  of  this  hard  life;~\     That  is,  the  certain  con- 
sequence of  this  hard  life.     MALONE. 

0 o'ergrotvn,']     Thus,  Spenser : 

« o'ergrotvn  with  old  decay, 

"  And  hid  in  darkness  that  none  could  behold 
"  The  hue  thereof.'*    STEEVENS. 

2  Q  2 


596  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

If  you  will  bless  me,  sir,  and  give  me  leave, 
I'll  take  the  better  care  ;  but  if  you  will  not, 
The  hazard  therefore  due  fall  on  me,  by 
The  hands  of  Romans ! 

Any.  So  say  I ;  Amen. 

BEL.  No  reason  I,  since  on  your  lives  you  set 
j$o  slight  a  valuation,  should  reserve 
Mycrack'd  onetomore  care.  Have  with  you,  boys: 
If  in  your  country  wars  you  chance  to  die, 
That  is  my  bed  too,  lads,  and  there  I'll  lie : 
Lead,  lead. — The  time  seems  long;  their  blood 
thinks  scorn,  [Aside. 

Till  it  fly  out,  and  show  them  princes  born. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  I. 

A  Field  between  the  British  and  Roman  Camps. 
Enter  POSTHUMUS,  with  a  bloody  Handkerchief.1 

POST.  Yea,  bloody  cloth,2  I'll  keep  thee  j  for  I 

wish'd3 
Thou  should'st  be  colour'd  thus.  You  married  ones, 


1 bloody  handkerchief.']     The  bloody  token  of  Imogen's 

death,  which  PIsanio  in  the  foregoing  Act  determined  to  send. 

JOHNSON. 

*  Yeat  bloody  cloth,  &c.~]  This  is  a  soliloquy  of  nature,  ut- 
tered when  the  effervescence  of  a  mind  agitated  and  perturbed, 
spontaneously  and  inadvertently  discharges  itself  in  words.  The 
speech  throughout  all  its  tenor,  if  the  last  conceit  be  excepted, 
seems  to  issue  warm  from  the  heart.  He  first  condemns  his  own 
violence ;  then  tries  to  disburden  himself  by  imputing  part  of  tlit 


sc.i.  CYMBELINE.  597 

If  each  of  you  would  take  this  course,  how  many 
Must  murder  wives  much  better  than  themselves, 
For  wrying  but  a  little  ?4 — O,  Pisanio ! 
Every  good  servant  does  not  all  commands : 
No  bond,  but  to  do  just  ones. — Gods !  if  you 
Should  have  ta'en  vengeance  on  my  faults,  I  never 
Had  liv'd  to  put  on5  this :  so  had  you  saved 

crime  to  Pisanio ;  he  next  sooths  his  mind  to  an  artificial  and  mo- 
mentary tranquillity,  by  trying  to  think  that  he  has  been  only  an 
instrument  of  the  gods  for  the  happiness  of  Imogen.  He  is  now 
grown  reasonable  enough  to  determine,  that  having  done  so 
much  evil,  he  will  do  no  more ;  that  he  will  not  fight  against  the 
country  which  he  has  already  injured;  but  as  life  is  not 
longer  supportable,  he  will  die  in  a  just  cause,  and  die  with  the 
obscurity  of  a  man  who  does  not  think  himself  worthy  to  be  re- 
membered. JOHNSON. 

3 /  tuisk'd — ]     The  old  copy  reads — /  am  ivisk'd. 

STEEVENS, 

The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Pope.    MALONE. 

4  For  wrying  but  a  little  ?~]  This  uncommon  verb  is  likewise 
used  by  Stanyhurst  in  the  third  book  of  the  translation  of  Virgil, 
1582: 

" the  maysters  tvrye  their  vessels." 

Again,  in  Sidney's  Arcadia,  Lib.  I.  edit.  1633,  p.  67  :  "  —that 
from  the  right  line  of  vertue  areivryed  to  these  crooked  shifts." 
Again,  in  Daniel's  Cleopatra,  1599  : 

" in  her  sinking  down  she  wyes 

"  The  diadem ."     STEEVENS. 

The  following  passage  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  may  help  to  ex- 
plain the  word — encounter.     In  Vol.  XV.  p.  407,  Ulysses  says : 
"  O,  these  encounterers  so  glib  of  tongue. 
"  That  give  accosting  welcome  ere  it  come." 
Accosting  is  surely  the  true  reading ;  and  I  am  still  inclined  to 
read  strayed  instead  of  stained.     So,  in  Cymbeline: 

" how  many 

"  Must  murder  wives  much  better  than  themselves, 
"  For  ivrying  but  a  little."     M.  MASON. 
to  put  on — 3  Is  to  incite,  to  instigate.    JOHNSON, 


So,  in  Macbeth: 

" the  powers  above 

*f  Put  on  their  instruments."     STEEVJENS, 


598  CYMBELINE.  ACTV. 

The  noble  Imogen  to  repent ;  and  struck 
Me  wretch,  more  worth  your  vengeance.  But,  alack, 
You  snatch  some  hence  for  little  faults;  that's  love, 
To  have  them  fall  no  more :  you  some  permit 
To  second  ills  with  ills,  each  elder  worse  ; 6 
And  make  them  dread  it  to  the  doer's  thrift.7 


* each  elder  -worse;  1     For   this   reading   all  the  later 

editors  have  contentedly  taken, 

each  worse  than  other ; 

without  enquiries  whence  they  have  received  it.  Yet  they 
knew,  or  might  know,  that  it  has  no  authority.  The  original 
copy  reads : 

each  elder  'worse; 

The  last  deed  is  certainly  not  the  oldest,  but  Shakspeare  calls 
the  deed  of  an  elder  man  an  elder  deed.  JOHNSON. 

each  elder  'worse;']     i.  e.  where  corruptions  are,  they 

grow  with  years,  and  the  oldest  sinner  is  the  greatest.  You, 
Gods,  permit  some  to  proceed  in  iniquity,  and  the  older  such  are, 
the  more  their  crime.  TOLLET. 

I  believe  our  author  must  answer  for  this  inaccuracy,  and  that 
he  inadvertently  considered  the  latter  evil  deed  as  the  elder; 
having  probably  some  general  notion  in  his  mind  of  a  quantity 
of  evil  commencing  with  our  first  parents,  and  gradually  ac- 
cumulating in  process  of  time  by  a  repetition  of  crimes. 

MALONE. 

7  And  make  them  dread  it  to  the  doers*  thrift.']  The  divinity 
schools  have  not  furnished  juster  observations  on  the  conduct  of 
Providence,  than  Posthumus  gives  us  here  in  his  private  reflec- 
tions. You  gods,  says  he,  act  in  a  different  manner  with  your 
different  creatures : 

"  You  snatch  some  hence  for  little  faults ;  that's  love, 

"  To  have  them  fall  no  more : — ." 

Others,  says  our  poet,  you  permit  to  live  on,  to  multiply  and  in- 
crease in  crimes : 

"  And  make  them  dread  it,  to  the  doers'  thrift." 
Here  is  a  relative  without  an  antecedent  substantive;  which  is  a 
breach  of  grammar.     We  must  certainly  read : 

And  make  them  dreaded,  to  the  doer's  thrift. 
i.  e.  others  you  permit  to  aggravate  one  crime  with  more ;  which 
enormities  not  only  make  them  revered  and  dreaded,  but  turn  in 


sc.j.  CYMBELINE.  599 

But  Imogen  is  your  own :  Do  your  best  wills, 


other  kinds  to  their  advantage.     Dignity,  respect,  and  profit, 
accrue  to  them  from  crimes  committed  with  impunity. 

THEOPALD. 

This  emendation  is  followed  by  Sir  T.  Hanmer.  Dr.  Warbur- 
ton  reads,  I  know  not  whether  by  the  printer's  negligence : 

And  make  them  dread  to  the  doers'  thrift. 
There  seems  to  be  no  very  satisfactory  sense  yet  offered.  I  read, 
but  with  hesitation, — 

And  make  them  deeded,  to  the  doers'  thrift. 
The  word  deeded  I  know  not  indeed  where  to  find ;  but  Shak- 
speare  has,  in  another  sense,  undeeded  in  Macbeth  : 

" my  sword 

"  I  sheath  again  undeeded." 
I  will  try  again,  and  read  thus : 

others  you  permit 

To  second  ills  with  ills,  each  other  ivorse, 

And  make  them  trade  it,  to  the  doers'  thrift. 
Trade  and  thrift  correspond.     Our  author  plays  with  trade,  as 
it  signifies  a  lucrative  vocation,  or  a  frequent  practice.     So  Isa- 
bella says : 

"  Thy  sin's,  not  accidental,  but  a  trade"     JOHNSON. 

However  ungrammatical,  I  believe  the  old  reading  is  the  true 
one.  To  make  them  dread  it  is  to  make  theni  persevere  in  the 
commission  of  dreadful  actions.  Dr.  Johnson  has  observed  on  a 
passage  in  Hamlet,  that  Pope  and  Rowe  have  not  refused  this 
mode  of  speaking : — "  To  sinner  it,  or  saint  it," — and  "  to  coy 
it"  STEEVENS. 

Mr.  Steevens's  interpretation  appears  to  me  inadmissible. 

MALONE. 

There  is  a  meaning  to  be  extracted  from  these  words  as  they 
now  stand,  and  in  my  opinion  not  a  bad  one: — "  Some  you 
snatch  from  hence  for  little  faults ;  others  you  suffer  to  heap  ills 
on  ills,  and  afterwards  make  them  dread  their  having  done  so, 
to  the  eternal  welfare  of  the  doers." 

The  whole  speech  is  in  a  religious  strain. —  Thrift  signifies  a 
state  of  prosperity.  It  is  not  the  commission  of  the  crimes  that 
is  supposed  to  be  for  the  doer's  thrift,  but  his  dreading  them  after- 
wards, and  of  course  repenting,  which  ensures  his  salvation. — 
The  same  sentiment  occurs  in  The  False  One,  though  not  so 


600  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

And  make  me  bless'd  to  obey!8 — I  am  brought 

hither 

Among  the  Italian  gentry,  and  to  fight 
Against  my  lady's  kingdom  :  'Tis  enough 
That,  Britain,  I  have  kilPd  thy  mistress ;  peace ! 
I'll  give  no  wound  to  thee.     Therefore,  good  hea- 
vens, 

Hear  patiently  my  purpose  :  I'll  disrobe  me 
Of  these  Italian  weeds,  and  suit  myself 
As  does  a  Briton  peasant :  so  I'll  tight 
Against  the  part  I  come  with  ;  so  I'll  die 
For  thee,  O  Imogen,  even  for  whom  my  life 
Is,  every  breath,  a  death :  and  thus,  unknown 
Pitied  nor  hated,  to  the  face  of  peril 
Myself  I'll  dedicate.     Let  me  make  men  know 
More  valour  in  me,  than  my  habits  show. 
Gods,  put  the  strength  o'the  Leonati  in  me ! 
To  shame  the  guise  o'the  world,  I  will  begin 
The  fashion,  less  without,  and  more  within. 

[Exit. 

seriously  introduced,  where  the  Soldier,  speaking  of  the  contri- 
tion of  Septimius,  who  murdered  Pompey,  says,  "  he  was  happy 
he  was  a  rascal,  to  come  to  this."  M.  MASON. 

*  — —  Do  your  best  wills. 

And  make  me  bless'd  to  obey  /]  So  the  copies.    It  was  more 
in  the  manner  of  our  author  to  have  written : 

Do  your  bless'd  wills, 

And  make  me  "bless'd  t*  obey!    JOHNSON. 


#7.  //,  CYMBELINE.  601 

SCENE  II. 

The  same. 

Enter  at  one  Side,  Lucius,  IACHIMO,  and  the 
Roman  Army ;  at  the  other  Side,  the  British 
Army;  LEONATUS  POSTHUMUS  following  it,  like 
a  poor  Soldier.  They  march  over,  and  go  out. 
Alarums.  Then  enter  again  in  skirmish,  IACHIMO 
and  POSTHUMUS  :  he  vanquisheth  and  disarmeth 
IACHIMO,  and  then  leaves  him. 

IACH.  The  heaviness  and  guilt  within  my  bosom 
'Takes  off  my  manhood :  I  have  belied  a  lady, 
The  princess  of  this  country,  and  the  air  on't 
Revengingly  enfeebles  me ;  Or  could  this  carl,9 
A  very  drudge  of  nature's,  have  subdu'd  me, 
In  myprofession  ?  Knighthoods  and  honours,  borne 
As  I  wear  mine,  are  titles  but  of  scorn. 
If  that  thy  gentry,  Britain,  go  before 
This  lout,  as  he  exceeds  our  lords,  the  odds 
Is,  that  we  scarce  are  men,  and  you  are  gods. 

[Exit, 


9 this  carl,]     Carl  or  churl  (ceojil,  Sax.)  is  a  clown  or 

husbandman.     RITSON. 

Verstegan  says  ceorle,  now  written  churle,  was  anciently  un- 
derstood for  a  sturdy  jelloiu.     REED. 

Carle  is  used  by  our  old  writers  in  opposition  to  a  gentleman. 
See  the  poem  of  John  the  Reeve.     PERCY. 

Carlot  is  a  word  of  the  same  signification,  and  occurs  in  our 
.author's  As  you  like  it.     Again,  in  an  ancient,  Interlude,  or  Mo- 
rality, printed  by  Rastell,  without  title  or  date : 
"  A  carlys  sonne,  brought  up  of  nought." 


602  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 


Tlie  Battle  continues  ;  the  Britons  Jiy ;  CYMBELINE 
is  taken;  then  enter,  to  his  rescue,  BELARIUS, 
GUIDERIUS,  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

BEL.  Stand,  stand !  We  have  the  advantage  of 

the  ground ; 

The  lane  is  guarded :  nothing  routs  us,  but 
The  villainy  of  our  fears. 

GUI.  ARV.  Stand,  stand,  and  fight ! 


Enter  POSTHUMUS,  and  seconds  the  Britons :  They 
rescue  CYMBELINE,  and  exeunt.  Then,  enter 
Lucius,  IACHIMO,  and  IMOGEN. 

Luc.  Away,  boy,  from  the  troops,  and  save  thy- 
self: " 

For  friends  kill  friends,  and  the  disorder's  such 
As  war  were  hood-wink'd. 

IACH.  'Tis  their  fresh  supplies. 

Luc.  It  is  a  day  turn'd  strangely :  Or  betimes 
Let's  re-enforce,  or  fly.  \_Exeunt. 


The  thought  seems  to  have  been  imitated  in  Philaster: 
"  The  gods  take  part  against  me  ;  could  this  boor 
"  Have  held  me  thus  else  ?"     STEEVENS. 


sc.  m.  CYMBELINE,  603 

SCENE  III. 

Another  Part  of  the  Field. 
Enter  POSTHUMUS  and  a  British  Lord. 

LORD.  Cam'st  thou  from  where  they  made  the 
stand  ? 

POST.  I  did : 

Though  you,  it  seems,  come  from  the  fliers. 

LORD.  I  did. 

POST.  No  blame  be  to  you,  sir;  for  all  was  lost, 
But  that  the  heavens  fought :  *  The  king  himself 
Of  his  wings  destitute,2  the  army  broken, 
And  but  the  backs  of  Britons  seen,  all  flying 
Through  a  strait  lane ;  the  enemy  full-hearted, 
Lolling  the  tongue  with  slaughtering,  having  work 
More  plentiful  than  tools  to  do't,  struck  down 
Some  mortally,  some  slightly  touch' d,  some  falling 
Merely  through   fear;   that  the  strait  pass  was 

damm'd 

With  dead  men,  hurt  behind,  and  cowards  living 
To  die  with  lengthen' d  shame. 

LORD.  Where  was  this  lane  ? 

1  But  that  the  heavens  fought :]  So,  in  Judges,  v.  20: 
"  They  fought  from  heaven :  the  stars  in  their  courses  fought 
against  Sisera."  STEEVENS. 

8 The  king  himself 

Of  his  wings  destitute,]  "  The  Danes  rushed  forth  with  such 
violence  upon  their  adversaries,  that  first  the  right,  and  then  after 
the  left  wing  of  the  Scots,  was  constreined  to  retire  and  flee 
back. — HAIE  beholding  the  king,  with  the  most  part  of  the 
nobles,  fighting  with  great  valiancie  in  the  middle  ward,  now 
destitute  of  the  wings,"  &c.  Holinshed.  See  the  next  note. 

MALOXE. 


604  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

POST.  Close  by  the  battle,  ditch'd,  and  walFd 

with  turf;3 

Which  gave  advantage  to  an  ancient  soldier, — 
An  honest  one,  I  warrant ;  who  deserv'd 
So  long  a  breeding,  as  his  white  beard  came  to, 
In  doing  this  for  his  country ; — athwart  the  lane, 
He,  with  two  striplings,  (lads  more  like  to  run 
The  country  base,4  than  to  commit  such  slaughter ; 
With  faces  fit  for  masks,  or  rather  fairer 
Than  those  for  preservation  cas'd,  or  shame,)5 
Made  good  the  passage  j  cry'd  to  those  that  fled, 


*  Close  by  the  battle,  &c.]  The  stopping  of  the  Roman  army 
by  three  persons,  is  an  allusion  to  the  story  of  the  Hays,  as  re- 
lated by  Holinshed  in  his  History  of  Scotland,  p.  155:  "  There 
was  neere  to  the  place  of  the  battel,  a  long  lane  fensed  on  the 
sides  with  ditches  and  walles  made  of  turfe,  through  the  which 
the  Scots  which  fled  were  beaten  downe  by  the  enemies  on 
heapes. 

"  Here  Haie  with  his  sonnes  supposing  they  might  best  staic 
the  flight,  placed  themselves  overthwart  the  lane,  beat  them 
backe  whom  they  meet  fleeing,  and  spared  neither  friend  nor  fo ; 
but  downe  they  went  all  such  as  came  within  their  reach,  where- 
with  divers  hardie  personages  cried  unto  their  fellowes  to  returne 
backe  unto  the  battell,"  &c. 

It  appears  from  Peck's  New  Memoirs,  &c.  Article  88,  that 
Milton  intended  to  have  written  a  play  on  this  subject. 

MUSGRAVE. 

4  The  country  base,]  i.  e.  a  rustick  game  called  prison-bars, 
vulgarly  prison-base.  So,  in  the  tragedy  of  Hoffman,  1632  : 

" I'll  run  a  little  course 

"  At  base,  or  barley-brake ." 

Again,  in  The  Antipodes,  1638: 

" my  men  can  run  at  base." 

Again,  in  the  30th  Song  of  Drayton's  Polyolbion : 

"  At  hood-wink,  barley-brake,  at  tick,  or  prison-base.1* 
Again,  in  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  Book  V.  ch.  viii : 

"  So  ran  they  all  as  they  had  been  at  bacc"  STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  IV.  p.  192,  n.  2.    MALONE. 

' for  preservation  cas'd,  or  shame, )  ]   Shame  for  modesty. 

WARBURTOX. 


sc,  m.  CYMBELINE.  6O5 

Our  Britain's  harts  die  flying,  not  our  men : 

To  darkness  Jket,  souls  thatjly  backwards!  Stand ; 

Or  'we  are  Romans,  and  will  give  you  that 

Like  beasts,  which  you  shun  beastly ;  and  may  save, 

But  to  look  back  in  frown:  stand,  stand. — These 

three, 

Three  thousand  confident,  in  act  as  many, 
(For  three  performers  are  the  file,  when  all 
The  rest  do  nothing,)  with  this  word,  stand,  stand, 
Accommodated  by  the  place,  more  charming, 
With  their  own  nobleness,  (which  could  haveturn'd 
A  distaff  to  a  lance,)  gilded  pale  looks, 
Part,shame,  part,  spirit  renew'd;  that  some,  turn'd 

coward 

But  by  example  (O,  a  sin  in  war, 
Damn'd  in  the  first  beginners  !)  'gan  to  look 
The  way  that  they  did,  and  to  grin  like  lions 
Upon  the  pikes  o'the  hunters.     Then  began 
A  stop  i'the  chaser,  a  retire  ;  anon, 
A  rout,  confusion  thick :  Forthwith,  they  fly 
Chickens,  the  way  which  they  stoop'd  eagles  j 

slaves, 
The  strides  they  victors  made:6   And  now  our 

cowards 

(Like  fragments  in  hard  voyages,)  became 
The  life  o'the  need  ;7  having  found  the  back-door 

open 

8 they  victors  made:~\  The  old  copy  has — the  victors  &c. 

The  emendation  was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald.     MALONE. 

7 became 

The  life  o'the  need;~\  i.  e.  that  have  become  the  life,  &c. 
Shakspeare  should  have  written  become,  but  there  is,  I  believe, 
no  corruption.  In  his  134th  Sonnet,  he  perhaps  again  uses  came 
as  a  participle : 

"  The  statute  of  thy  beauty  thou  wilt  take, 
"  Thou  usurer,  that  put'st  forth  all  to  use, 
"  And  sue  a  friend,  came  debtor  for  thy  sake." 


606  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

Of  the  unguarded  hearts,  Heavens,  how  they  wound ! 
Some,   slain  before ;    some,  dying ;    some,   their 

friends 

O'er-borne  i'the  former  wave :  ten,  chac'd  by  one, 
Are  now  each  one  the  slaughter-man  of  twenty : 
Those,  that  would  die  or  ere  resist,  are  grown 
The  mortal  bugs8  o'the  field. 

LORD.  This  was  strange  chance : 

A  narrow  lane  !  an  old  man,  and  two  boys  ! 

POST.  Nay,  do  not  wonder  at  it:9  You  are  made 
Rather  to  wonder  at  the  things  you  hear, 
Than  to  work  any.     Will  you  rhyme  upon't, 
And  vent  it  for  a  mockery  ?  Here  is  one  : 
Two  boys,  an  old  man  twice  a  boy,  a  lane, 
Preserved  the  Britons,  was  the  Romans9  bane. 

LORD.  Nay,  be  not  angry,  sir. 

POST.  'Lack,  to  what  end  ? 

Who  dares  not  stand  his  foe,  I'll  be  his  friend : 
For  if  he'll  do,  as  he  is  made  to  do, 
I  know,  he'll  quickly  fly  my  friendship  too. 
You  have  put  me  into  rhyme. 

LORD.  Farewell ;  you  are  angry. 

[Exit. 

Became,  however,  in  the  text  may  be  a  verb.  If  this  was 
intended,  the  parenthesis  should  be  removed.  MALONE. 

8 bugs — ]     Terrors.    JOHNSON. 

So,  in  The  First  Part  qfJeronimo,  1605  : 

««  Where  nought  but  furies,  bugs,  and  tortures  dwell.'* 
Again,  in  The  Battle  of  Alcazar,  1594-: 
"  Is  Amurath  Bassa  such  a  bug, 
"  That  he  is  mark'd  to  do  this  doughty  deed  ?" 

STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  XIV.  p.  180,  n.  3     MALONE. 

9  Nay,  do  not  wonder  at  it:"]  Posthumus  first  bids  him  not 
wonder,  then  tells  him  in  another  mode  of  reproach,  that  won- 
der is  all  that  he  was  made  for.  JOHNSON. 


8c.ni.  CYMBELINE.  607 

POST.  Still  going  ?— -This;  is  a  lord !  *  O  noble 

misery! 

To  be  i'the  field,  and  ask,  what  news,  of  me ! 
To-day,  how  many  would  have  given  their  honours 
To  have  sav'd  their  carcasses  ?  took  heel  to  do't, 
And  yet  died  too  ?  I,  in  mine  own  woe  charm'd,2 
Could  not  find  death,  where  I  did  hear  him  groan ; 
Nor  feel  him,  where  he  struck :  Being  an  ugly 

monster, 

'Tis  strange,  he  hides  him  in  fresh  cups,  soft  beds, 
Sweet  words  ;  or  hath  more  ministers  than  we 
That  draw  his  knives  i'the  war. — Well,  I  will  find 

him: 
For  being  now  a  favourer  to  the  Roman,3 

1 This  is  a  lord!"]  Read: — This  a  lord!     RITSON. 

a 7,  in  mine  oian  taoe  charm' d,~]  Alluding  to  the  common 

superstition  of  charms  being  powerful  enough  to  keep  men  un- 
hurt in  battle.  It  was  derived  from  our  Saxon  ancestors,  and  so 
is  common  to  us  with  the  Germans,  who  are  above  all  other 
people  given  to  this  superstition ;  which  made  Erasmus,  where, 
m  his  Morice  Encomium,  he  gives  to  each  nation  its  proper  cha- 
racteristick,  say,  "  Germani  corporum  proceritate  &  magiie  cog- 
nitione  sibi  placent."  And  Prior,  in  his  Alma: 

"  North  Britons  hence  have  second  sight; 

"  And  Germans  free  from  gun-shot  fight." 

WARBURTOK- 

See  Vol.  X.  p.  289,  n.  6.     So,  in  Drayton's  Nymphidia: 
"  Their  seconds  minister  an  oath 
"  Which  was  indifferent  to  them  both, 
"  That,  on  their  knightly  faith  and  troth, 

"  No  magick  them  supplied ; 
"  And  sought  them  that  they  had  no  charms 
"  Wherewith  to  work  each  other's  harms, 
"  But  come  with  simple  open  arms 

"  To  have  their  causes  tried." 

Again,  in  Chapman's  version  of  the  tenth  Book  of  Homer's 
Odyssey  : 

"  Enter  her  roof;  for  thou'rt  to  all  proof  charmed 
"  Against  the  ill  day."     STEEVENS. 

3     -favourer  to  the  Roman,]  The  editions  before  Sir  Tho- 


608  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

No  more  a  Briton,  I  have  re-sum*  d  again 
The  part  I  came  in :  Fight  I  will  no  more, 
But  yield  me  to  the  veriest  hind,  that  shall 
Once  touch  my  shoulder.     Great  the  slaughter  is 
Here  made  by  the  Roman ;  great  the  answer  be* 
Britons  must  take  ;  For  me,  my  ransome's  death  \ 
On  either  side  I  come  to  spend  my  breath  ; 
Which  neither  here  I'll  keep,  nor  bear  again, 
But  end  it  by  some  means  for  Imogen. 

Enter  Two  British  Captains,  and  Soldiers. 

1  CAP.  Great  Jupiter  be  prais'd !  Lucius  is  ta- 

ken : 
'Tis  thought,  the  old  man  and  his  sons  were  angels. 

2  CAP.  There  was  a  fourth  man,  in  a  silly  habit,5 
That  gave  the  affront  with  them.6 

mas  Hanmer's,  for  Roman  read  Briton;  and  Dr.  Warburton 
reads  Briton  still.    JOHNSON. 

4 great  the  answer  be — ]     Answer,  as  once  in  this  play 

before,  is  retaliation.     JOHNSON. 

* a  silly  habit,']     Silly  is  simple  or  rustick.     So,  in  King 

Lear: 

" twenty  silly  ducking  observants ." 

STEEVENS. 

So,  in  the  novel  of  Boccace,  on  which  this  play  is  formed : 
"  The  servant,  who  had  no  great  good  will  to  kill  her,  very 
easily  grew  pitifull,  took  off  her  upper  garment,  and  gave  her  a 
poore  ragged  doublet,  a  silly  chapperone,"  &c.  The  Decameron, 
1620.  MALONE. 

0  That  gave  the  affront  'with  them.']  That  is,  that  turned 
their  faces  to  the  enemy.  JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Alchymist: 

"  To  day  thou  shall  have  ingots,  and  to-morrow 
"  Give  lords  the  affront."     STEEVBNS. 

To  affront,  Minsheu  explains  thus  in  his  Dictionary,  1617: 
"  To  come  face  to  face.  v.  Encounter."     Affrontare,  Ital. 

MALONE. 


sc.  m.  CYMBELINE*  609 

1  CAP.  So  'tis  reported  : 
But  none  of  them  can  be  found. — Stand!7  who  is 

there  ? 

POST.  A  Roman ; 

Who  had  not  now  been  drooping  here,  if  seconds 
Had  answer*  d  him. 

2  CAP.  Lay  hands  on  him ;  a  dog ! 
A  leg  of  Rome  shall  not  return  to  tell 

What  crows  have  peck'd  them  here :  He  brags  his 

service 
As  if  he  were  of  note :  bring  him  to  the  king. 

Enter  CYMBELINE,S  attended;  BELARIUS,  GUIDE- 
RIUS,  ARVIRAGUS,  PISANIO,  and  Roman  Captives. 
The  Captains  present  POSTHUMUS  to  CYMBELINE, 
who  delivers  him  over  to  a  Gaoler:  after  which, 
all  go  out. 


7 Stand /]    I  would  willingly,  for  the  sake  of  metre,  omit 

this  useless  word,  and  read  the  whole  passage  thus : 
But  none  of  them  can  be  found. — Who's  there  ? 

Post.  A  Roman  ; — 

STEEVENS. 

8  Enter  Cymbeline,  $fc.~]  This  is  the  only  instance  in  these 
plays  of  the  business  of  the  scene  being  entirely  performed  in 
dumb  show.  The  direction  must  have  proceeded  from  the  play- 
ers, as  it  is  perfectly  unnecessary,  and  our  author  has  elsewhere 
[in  Hamlet^  expressed  his  contempt  of  such  mummery. 

RITSOKT. 


VOL.  XVIII.  2  R 


610  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

SCENE  IV. 
A  Prison. 

Enter  POSTHUMUS,  and  Two  Gaolers. 

1  GAOL.  You  shall  not  now  be  stolen,9  you  have 

locks  upon  you ; 
So,  graze,  as  you  find  pasture. 

2  GAOL.  Ay,  or  a  stomach. 

[Exeunt  Gaolers. 

POST.  Most  welcome,  bondage !  for  thou  art  a 

way, 

I  think,  to  liberty :  Yet  am  I  better 
Than  one  that's  sick  o'the  gout :  since  he  had  ra- 
ther 

Groan  so  in  perpetuity,  than  be  cur'd 
By  the  sure  physician,  death  ;  who  is  the  key 
To  unbar  these  locks.     My  conscience !  thou  art 

fetter'd 
More  than  my  shanks,  and  wrists :  You  good  gods, 

give  me 

The  penitent  instrument,  to  pick  that  bolt, 
Then,  free  for  ever !  Is't  enough,  I  am  sorry  ? 
So  children  temporal  fathers  do  appease ; 
Gods  are  more  full  of  mercy.     Must  I  repent  ? 
I  cannot  do  it  better  than  in  gyves, 
Desir'd,  more  than  constrained :  to  satisfy, 
If  of  my  freedom  'tis  the  main  part,  take 

9  You  shall  not  now  be  stolen,"]  The  wit  of  the  Gaoler  alludes 
to  the  custom  of  putting  a  lock  on  a  horse's  leg,  when  he  is 
turned  to  pasture.  JOHNSON. 


sc.  iv.  C YMBELINE.  6 1 1 

No  stricter  render  of  me,  than  my  all.1 

I  know,  you  are  more  clement  than  vile  men, 

Who  of  their  broken  debtors  take  a  third, 

A  sixth,  a  tenth,  letting  them  thrive  again 

On  their  abatement ;  that's  not  my  desire : 

For  Imogen's  dear  life,  take  mine  ;  and  though 

'Tis  not  so  dear,  yet  'tis  a  life ;  you  coin'd  it : 

'Tween  man  and  man,  they  weigh  not  everystamp -9 

Though  light,  take  pieces  for  the  figure's  sake : 

You  rather  mine, being  yours:  Andso,greatpowers, 

If  you  will  take  this  audit,  take  this  life, 

And  cancel  these  cold  bonds.2     O  Imogen ! 

I'll  speak  to  thee  in  silence.  \_He  sleeps, 

1 to  satisfy, 

If  of  my  freedom  'tis  the  main  part,  take 

No  stricter  render  of  me,  than  my  all.'}  Posthumus  questions 
whether  contrition  be  sufficient  atonement  for  guilt.  Then,  to 
satisfy  the  offended  gods,  he  desires  them  to  take  no  more  than 
his  present  all,  that  is,  his  life,  if  it  is  the  main  part,  the  chief 
point,  or  principal  condition  of  his  freedom,  i.  e.  of  his  freedom 
from  future  punishment.  This  interpretation  appears  to  be  war- 
ranted by  the  former  part  of  the  speech.  Sir  T.  Hanmer  reads : 
I  doff  my  freedom, .  STEEVENS. 

I  believe  Posthumus  means  to  say,  "  Since  for  my  crimes  I 
have  been  deprived  of  my  freedom,  and  since  life  itself  is  more 
valuable  than  freedom,  let  the  gods  take  my  life,  and  by  this  let 
heaven  be  appeased,  how  small  soever  the  atonement  may  be.'* 
I  suspect,  however,  that  a  line  has  been  lost,  after  the  word 
satisfy.  If  the  text  be  right,  to  satisfy  means,  by  ivay  of  satis- 
faction. MALONE. 

2 cold  bonds."}     This  equivocal  use  of  bonds  is  another 

instance  of  our  author's  infelicity  in  pathetick  speeches. 

JOHNSON. 

An  allusion  to  the  same  legal  instrument  has  more  than  once 
debased  the  imagery  of  Shakspeare.     So,  in  Macbeth  : 
"  Cancel  and  tear  to  pieces  that  great  bond 
"  That  keeps  me  pale."     STEEVENS. 


2  R  2 


612  CYMBELINE. 

Solemn  Musick*  Enter,  as  an  Apparition,  SICILIUS 
LEONATUS,  Father  to  POSTHUMUS,  an  old  Man, 
attired  like  a  Warrior ;  leading  in  his  Hand  an 
ancient  Matron,  his  Wife,  and  Mother  to  POST- 
HUMUS, with  Music  It  before  them.  Then,  after 
other  Mustek,  follow  the  Two  young  Leonati, 
Brothers  to  POSTHUMUS,  with  Wounds,  as  they 
died  in  t/te  Wars.  They  circle  POSTHLMUS  round, 
as  he  lies  sleeping. 

Sici.  No  more,  thou  thunder-master,  show 

Thy  spite  on  mortal  flies  : 
With  Mars  fall  out,  with  Juno  chide, 
That  thy  adulteries 

Kates  and  revenges. 

'  Solemn  Mustek.  &c.]  Here  follow  a  vision,  a  masque,  and 
^prophesy,  which  interrupt  the  fable  without  the  least  necessity, 
and  unmeasurably  lengthen  this  Act.  1  think  it  plainly  foisted  in 
afterwards  for  mere  show,  and  apparently  not  of  Shakspeare. 

POPE. 

Every  reader  must  be  of  the  same  opinion.  The  subsequent 
narratives  of  Posthumus,  which  render  this  masque,  &c.  unne- 
cessary, ( or  perhaps  the  scenical  directions  supplied  by  the  poet 
himself)  seem  to  have  excited  some  manager  of  a  theatre  to  dis- 
grace the  play  by  the  present  metrical  interpolation.  Shakspeare, 
who  has  conducted  his  fifth  Act  with  such  matchless  skill,  could 
never  have  designed  the  vision  to  be  twice  described  by  Posthu- 
mus, had  this  contemptible  nonsense  been  previously  delivered  on 
the  stage.  The  following  passage  from  Dr.  Farmer's  Essay  will 
show  that  it  was  no  unusual  thing  for  the  players  to  indulge  them- 
selves in  making  additions  equally  unjustifiable : — "  We  have  a 
sufficient  instance  of  the  liberties  taken  by  the  actors,  in  an  old 
pamphlet  by  Nash,  called  Lenten  Stttffe,  with  the  Prayse  of  the 
ned  Herring,  4to.  1599,  where  he  assures  us,  that  in  a  play  of 
his  called  The  Isle  (>fDogs,foure  Acts,  without  his  consent,  or  the 
least  guess  of  his  drift  or  scope,  were  supplied  by  the  players." 

STEEVEXS. 

In  a  note  on  Vol.  II.  (Article — SHAKSPEAKE,  FORD,  and 
JONSON,)  may  be  found  a  strong  confirmation  of  what  has  been 
here  suggested.  MALONE. 


6c.iv.  CYMBELINE.  613 

Hath  my  poor  boy  done  aught  but  well, 

Whose  face  I  never  saw  ? 
I  died,  whilst  in  the  womb  he  stay'd 

Attending  Nature's  law. 
Whose  father  then  (as  men  report, 

Thou  orphans'  father  art,) 
Thou  should'st  have  been,  and  shielded  him 

From  this  earth-vexing  smart. 

MOTH.  Lucina  lent  not  me  her  aid, 

But  took  me  in  my  throes  ; 
That  from  me  was  Posthumus  ript,4 
Came  crying  'mongst  his  foes, 
A  thing  of  pity ! 

Sici.  Great  nature,  like  his  ancestry, 

Moulded  the  stuff  so  fair, 
That  he  deserv'd  the  praise  o'the  world, 
As  great  Sicilius*  heir. 

1  BRO.  When  once  he  was  mature  for  man, 

In  Britain  where  was  he 
That  could  stand  up  his  parallel ; 

Or  fruitful  object  be 
In  eye  of  Imogen,  that  best 

Could  deem  his  dignity? 

One  would  think  that,  Shakspeare's  style  being  too  refined  for 
his  audiences,  the  managers  had  employed  some  playwright  of 
the  old  school  to  regale  them  with  a  touch  of  "  King  Cambyses* 
vein."  The  margin  would  be  too  honourable  a  place  for  so  im- 
pertinent an  interpolation.  RITSON. 

4  That '_ from  me  ivas  Posthumus  ript,~]    Perhaps  we  should  read : 
That  from  my  womb  Posthumus  ript, 
Came  crying  'mongst  his  foes.     JOHNSON. 

This  circumstance  is  met  with  in  The  Devil's  Charter,  1607* 
The  play  of  Cymbeline  did  not  appear  in  print  till  1623  : 
"  What  would'st  thou  run  again  into  my  womb  ? 
"  If  thou  wert  there,  thou  should'st  be  Posthumus, 
"  And  ript  out  of  my  sides,"  &c.     STEEVENS. 


614.  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

MOTH.  With  marriagewhereforewashemock'd,5 

To  be  exil'd,  and  thrown 
From  Leonati'  seat,  and  cast 
From  her  his  dearest  one, 
Sweet  Imogen  '. 

Sici.  Why  did  you  suffer  lachimo, 

Slight  thing  of  Italy, 
To  taint  his  nobler  heart  and  brain 

With  needless  jealousy ; 
And  to  become  the  geek6  and  scorn 

O'  the  other's  villainy  ? 

2  BRO.  For  this,  from  stiller  seats  we  came, 

Our  parents,  and  us  twain, 
That,  striking  in  our  country's  cause, 

Fell  bravely,  and  were  slain  ; 
Our  fealty,  and  Tenantius'7  right, 

With  honour  to  maintain. 

1  BRO.  Like  hardiment  Posthiimus  hath 

To  Cymbeline  performed : 
Then  Jupiter,  thou  king  of  gods, 

Why  hast  thou  thus  adjourn'd 
The  graces  for  his  merits  due ; 

Being  all  to  dolours  turn'd  ? 

Sici.  Thy  crystal  window  ope ;  look  out  j 

No  longer  exercise, 
Upon  a  valiant  race,  thy  harsh 
And  potent  injuries : 


*  With  marriage  "wherefore  was  he  mock'd,]    The  same  phrase 
occurs  in  Measure  for  Measure: 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  mock  me  with  a  husband." 

STEEVENS. 

0  And  to  become  the  geek — ]     And  permit  Posthumus  to  be- 
come the  geek,  &c.     MA  LONE. 

A  geek  is  a  fool.     See  Vol.  V.  p.  415,  n.  7.     STEEVENS. 
7  Tenantius1—-'}     See  p.  407,  n.  7.     STEEVENS. 


sc.  IV.  UYMBEJLJLNE.  615 

MOTH.  Since,  Jupiter,  our  son  is  good, 
Take  off  his  miseries. 

Sici.  Peep  through  thy  marble  mansion;  help! 

Or  we  poor  ghosts  will  cry 
To  the  shining  synod  of  the  rest, 
Against  thy  deity. 

2  BRO.  Help,  Jupiter ;  or  we  appeal, 
And  from  thy  justice  fly. 


JUPITER  descends*  in  Thunder  and  Lightning,  sit- 
ting upon  an  Eagle :  he  throws  a  Thunder-bolt, 
The  Ghosts  Jail  on  their  Knees. 

JUP.  No  more,  you  petty  spirits  of  region  low, 

Offend  cm-hearing;  hush! — How  dare  you  ghosts, 
Accuse  the  thunderer,  whose  bolt  you  know, 

Sky-planted,  batters  all  rebelling  coasts  ? 
Poor  shadows  of  Elysium,  hence ;  and  rest 

Upon  your  never- withering  banks  of  flowers : 
Be  not  with  mortal  accidents  opprest; 

No  care  of  yours  it  is ;  you  know,  'tis  ours. 
Whom  best  I  love,  I  cross  ;  to  make  my  gift, 

The  more  delay'd,  delighted.9     Be  content ; 
Your  low-laid  son  our  godhead  will  uplift : 

His  comforts  thrive,  his  trials  well  are  spent. 

9  Jupiter  descends — ]  It  appears  from  Acolastus,  a  comedy  by 
T.Palsgrave,  chaplain  to  King  Henry  VIII.  bl.  1.  1540,  that  the 
descent  of  deities  was  common  to  our  stage  in  its  earliest  state: 
"  Of  whyche  the  lyke  thyng  is  used  to  be  shewed  now  a  days  in 
stage-plaies,  when  some  God  or  some  Saynt  is  made  to  appere 
forth  of  a  cloude,  and  succoureth  the  parties  which  seemed  to  be 
towardes  some  great  danger,  through  the  Soudan's  crueltie." 
The  author,  for  fear  this  description  should  not  be  supposed  to 
extend  itself  to  our  theatres,  adds  in  a  marginal  note,  "  the  lyke 
maner  used  nowe  at  our  days  in  stage  playes."  STEEVENS. 

s  The  more  delay*  d,  delighted.]     That  is,  the  more  delightful 


616  CYMBELINE.  ACTF.. 

Our  Jovial  star  reign'd  at  his  birth,  and  in 

Our  temple  was  he  married. — Rise,  and  fade  I—- 
He shall  be  lord  of  lady  Imogen, 

And  happier  much  by  his  affliction  made. 
This  tablet  lay  upon  his  breast ;  wherein 

Our  pleasure  his  full  fortune  doth  confine ; 
And  so,  away :  no  further  with  your  din 
Express  impatience,  lest  you  stir  up  mine.— • 
Mount,  eagle,  to  my  palace  crystalline.1 

[Ascends. 

Sici.  He  came  in  thunder ;  his  celestial  breath 
Was  sulphurous  to  smell : 2  the  holy  eagle 

for  being  delayed. — It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  in  the 
eighteenth  volume,  that  Shakspeare  uses  indiscriminately  the 
active  and  passive  participles.  M.  MASON. 

Delighted  is  here  either  used  for  delighted  in,  or  for  delighting. 
So,  in  Othello: 

"  If  virtue  no  delighted  beauty  lack ."     MALONE. 

Though  it  be  hardly  worth  while  to  waste  a  conjecture  on  the 
wretched  stuff  before  us,  perhaps  the  author  of  it,  instead  of  de- 
lighted wrote  dilated,  i.  e.  expanded,  rendered  more  copious.  This 
participle  occurs  in  King  Henry  V.  and  the  verb  in  Othello. 

STEEVENS. 

1 my  palace  crystalline.']     Milton  has  transplanted  thi* 

idea  into  his  verses  In  Obitum  Prcesulis  Eliensis  : 

"  Ventum  est  Olympi  &  regiam  ckrystallinam." 

STEEVEMS. 
*  He  came  in  thunder;  his  celestial  breath 

Was  sulphurous  to  smell :~]  A  passage  like  this  one  may  sup- 
pose to  have  been  ridiculed  by  Ben  Jonson,  when  in  Every  Man, 
in  his  Humour  he  puts  the  following  strain  of  poetry  into  the 
mouth  of  Justice  Clement : 

" testify, 

**  How  Saturn  sitting  in  an  ebon  cloud, 
"  Disrob'd  his  podex  white  as  ivory, 

"  And  through  the  welkin  thunder'd  all  aloud." 
If,  however,  the  dates  of  Jonson's  play  and  Chapman's  transla- 
tion of  the  eleventh  Book  of  Homer's  Iliad,  are  at  all  reconcile- 
nblc,  one  might  be  tempted  to  regard  the  passage  last  quoted  as 
a  ridicule  on  the  following : 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  617 

Stoop'd,  as  to  foot  us : 3  his  ascension  is 
More  sweet  than  our  bless' d  fields :  his  royal  bird 
Prunes  the  immortal  wing,4  and  cloys  his  beak,5 
As  when  his  god  is  pleas'd. 

ALL.  Thanks,  Jupiter ! 

Sici.  The  marble  pavement  closes,6  he  is  enter'd 


•on  a  sable  cloud 


"  (To  bring  them  furious  to  the  field)  sat  thundring  out 
aloud."     Fol.  edit.  p.  143. 

STEEVENS. 

3  to  foot  us  :~]  i.  e.  to  grasp  us  in  his  pounces.    So,  Her- 
bert: 

"  And  till  they  foot  and  clutch  their  prey."    STEEVENS. 

4  Prunes  the  immortal  'wing,']    A  bird  is  said  to  prune  himself 
when  he  clears  his  feathers  from  superfluities.     So,  in  Drayton's 
Polyolbion,  Song  I  : 

"  Some  sitting  on  the  beach,  to  prune  their  painted 


See  Vol.  VII.  p.  115,  n.  7  ;  and  Vol.  XI.  p.  189,  n.  2. 

STEEVENS. 

•'  -  cloys  his  beak,"]     Perhaps  we  should  read: 
--  claws  his  beak.     TYRWHITT. 

A  cley  is  the  same  with  a  c/atc  in  old  language.     FARMER. 

So  in  Gower,  De  Confessione  Amantis,  Lib.  IV.  fol.  69  : 
"  And  as  a  catte  would  etc  fishes 
"  Without  wetyng  of  his  dees." 
Again,  in  Ben  Jonson's  Underloads  : 
"  -  from  the  seize 
"  Of  vulture  death  and  those  relentless  deys." 
Barrett,  in  his  Alvearie,  1580,  speaks  "  of  a  disease  in  cattell 
betwixt  the  dees  of  their  feete."     And  in  The  Book  of  Hawking, 
&c.  bl.  1.  no  date,  under  the  article  Pounces,  it  is  said,  *'  The 
dels  within  the  fote  ye  shall  call  aright  her  pounces."     To  data 
their  beaks,  is  an  accustomed  action  with  hawks  and  eagles. 

STEEVENS. 

fi  The  marble  pavement  doses,~\     So,  in  T.  Heywood's  Troia 
Britannica,  Cant.  xii.  st.  77,  1609  : 
"  A  general  shout  is  given, 
"  And  strikes  against  the  marble  Jloors  of  heaven." 

HOLT  WHITE. 


618  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

His  radiant  roof: — Away !  and,  to  be  blest, 
Let  us  with  care  perform  his  great  behest. 

[Ghosts  vanish. 

POST.  [Waking."]  Sleep,  thou  hast  been  a  grand- 
sire,  and  begot 

A  father  to  me :  and  thou  hast  created 
A  mother,  and  two  brothers :  But  (O  scorn  !) 
Gone !  they  went  hence  so  soon  as  tney  were  born. 
And  so  I  am  awake. — Poor  wretches  that  depend 
On  greatness'  favour,  dream  as  I  have  done ; 
Wake,  and  find  nothing. — But,  alas,  I  swerve : 
Many  dream  not  to  find,  neither  deserve, 
And  yet  are  steep'd  in  favours ;  so  am  I, 
That  have  this  golden  chance,  and  know  not  why. 
What  fairies  haunt  this  ground  ?  A  book  ?  O,  rare 

one ! 

Be  not,  as  is  our  fangled  world,  a  garment 
Nobler  than  that  it  covers  :  let  thy  effects 
So  follow,  to  be  most  unlike  our  courtiers, 
As  good  as  promise. 

[Reads.]  When  as  a  lion's  whelp  shall,  to  himself 
known,  without  seeking  Jind,  and  be  embraced  by 
a  piece  of  tender  air ;  and  when  from  a  stately 
cedar  shall  be  lopped  branches,  which,  being  dead 
many  years,  shall  after  revive,  be  jointed  to  the 
old  stock,  and  freshly  grow  ;  then  shall  Posthumus 
end  his  miseries,  Britain  be  fortunate,  andjlourish 
in  peace  and  plenty. 

'Tis  still  a  dream  ;  or  else  such  stuff  as  madmen 
Tongue,  and  brain  not  :7  either  both,  or  nothing : 
Or  senseless  speaking,  or  a  speaking  such 

7  Tongue,  and  brain  not :]     To  perfect   the   line  we  may 
read: 

Do  tongue,  and  brain  not: — .     STEEVENS. 


sc.  iv.  CYMBELINE.  619 

As  sense  cannot  untie.8    Be  what  it  is, 
The  action  of  my  life  is  like  it,  which 
I'll  keep,  if  but  for  sympathy. 

Re-enter  Gaolers. 

GAOL.  Come,  sir,  are  you  ready  for  death  ? 
POST.  Over-roasted  rather :  ready  long  ago. 

GAOL.  Hanging  is  the  word,  sir ;  if  you  be  ready 
for  that,  you  are  well  cooked. 

POST.  So,  if  I  prove  a  good  repast  to  the  specta- 
tors, the  dish  pays  the  shot. 

GAOL.  A  heavy  reckoning  for  you,  sjr :  But  the 
comfort  is,  you  shall  be  called  to  no  more  payments, 
fear  no  more  tavern  bills  ;  which  are  often  the  sad- 
ness of  parting,  as  the  procuring  of  mirth :  you 
come  in  faint  for  want  of  meat,  depart  reeling  with 
too  much  drink ;  sorry  that  you  have  paid  too  much, 
and  sorry  that  you  are  paid  too  much  j 9  purse  and 

'  Tis  still  a  dream  ;  or  else  such  stuff  as  madmen 

Tongue,  and  brain  not:  either  both,  or  nothing: 

Or  senseless  speaking,  or  a  speaking  such 

As  sense  cannot  untie.~]  The  meaning,  which  is  too  thin  to 
be  easily  caught,  I  take  to  be  this :  This  is  a  dream  or  madness, 
or  both, — or  nothing, — but  ivhether  it  be  a  speech  without  con- 
sciousness, as  in  a  dream,  or  a  speech  unintelligible,  as  in  madness, 
be  it  as  it  is,  it  is  like  my  course  of  life.  We  might  perhaps 
read: 

Whether  both,  or  nothing, — .     JOHNSON. 

9  sorry  that  you  have  paid  too  much,  and  sorry  that  you 

are  paid  too  much;']  i.  e.  sorry  that  you  have  paid  too  much  out 
of  your  pocket,  and  sorry  that  you  are  paid,  or  subdued,  too 

much  by  the  liquor.     So,  Falstaff:  " seven  of  the  eleven 

I  paid."     Again,  in  the  fifth  scene  of  the  fourth  Act  of  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor.     STEEVENS. 

The  word  has  already  occurred  in  this  sense,  in  a  former  scene : 


620  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

brain  both  empty :  the  brain  the  heavier  for  being 
too  light,  the  purse  too  light,  being  drawn  of  hea- 
viness : l  O !  of  this  contradiction  you  shall  now 
be  quit.2 — O  the  charity  of  a  penny  cord !  it  sums 
up  thousands  in  a  trice :  you  have  no  true  debitor 
and  creditor3  but  it;  of  what's  past,  is,  and  to 
come,  the  discharge: — Your  neck,  sir,  is  pen,  book, 
and  counters ;  so  the  acquittance  follows. 

POST.  I  am  merrier  to  die,  than  thou  art  to  live. 

GAOL.  Indeed,  sir,  he  that  sleeps  feels  not  the 
tooth-ach :  But  a  man  that  were  to  sleep  your  sleep, 
and  a  hangman  to  help  him  to  bed,  I  think,  he 
would  change  places  with  his  officer :  for,  look  you, 
sir,  you  know  not  which  way  you  shall  go. 

POST.  Yes,  indeed,  do  I,  fellow. 

GAOL.  Your  death  has  eyes  in's  head  then ;  I 
have  not  seen  him  so  pictured :  you  must  either  be 
directed  by  some  that  take  upon  them  to  know ; 
or  take  upon  yourself  that,  which  I  am  sure  you  do 
not  know ;  or  jump  the  after-inquiry4  on  your  own 

"  And  though  he  came  our  enemy,  remember 
"  He  was  paid  for  that." 
See  also  Vol.  XL  p.  286,  n.  2.     MALONE. 

1  being  drawn   of  heaviness:"]     Drawn   is   embowelled, 

exenterated. — So  in  common  language  a  fowl  is  said  to  be  drawn, 
when  its  intestines  are  taken  out.  STEEVENS. 

*  of  this  contradiction  you  shall  now  be  quit.~\     Thus,  in 

Measure  for  Measure: 

« Death, 

"  That  makes  these  odds  all  even."     STEEVENS. 

8  . debitor  and  creditor — ~\  For  an  accounting  book. 

JOHNSON. 
So,  in  Othello: 

"  By  debitor  and  creditor,  this  counter-caster ;" . 

STEEVENS. 

4  jump  the  after-inquiry — ]    That  is,  venture' at  it  with- 
out thought.     So,  Macbeth  : 

the  life  to  come."    JOHNSOV. 


3C.  iv.  CYMBELINE;  621 

peril :  and  how  you  shall  speed  in  your  journey's 
end,  I  think  you'll  never  return  to  tell  one. 

POST*  I  tell  thee,  fellow,  there  are  none  want 
eyes  to  direct  them  the  way  I  am  going,  but  such 
as  wink,  and  will  not  use  them. 

GAOL.  What  an  infinite  mock  is  this,  that  a  man 
should  have  the  best  use  of  eyes,  to  see  the  way 
of  blindness !  I  am  sure,  hanging's  the  way  of 
winking. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

MESS.  Knock  off  his  manacles ;  bring  your  pri- 
soner to  the  king. 

POST.  Thou  bringest  good  news  j — I  am  called  to 
be  made  free. 

GAOL.  I'll  be  hanged  then. 

POST.  Thou  shalt  be  then  freer  than  a  gaoler  j 
no  bolts  for  the  dead. 

[_Exeunl  POSTHUMUS  and  Messenger. 

GAOL.  Unless  a  man  would  marry  a  gallows,  and 
beget  young  gibbets,  I  never  saw  one  so  prone.5 


To  jump  is  to  hazard.     So,  in  the  passage  quoted  from  Mac- 
beth by  Dr.  Johnson.     Again,  in  Coriolanus: 

**  To  jump  a  body  with  a  dangerous  physick ." 

MALONE. 

3  I  never  saw  one  so  prone."}  i.  e.  forward.    In  this  sense 

the  word  is  used  in  Wilfride  Holme's  poem,  entitled  The  Fall 
and  evil  Success  of  Rebellion,  &c.  1537: 

"  Thus  lay  they  in  Doncaster,  with  curtol  and  serpentine, 
"  With  bombard  and  basilisk,  with  men  prone  and  vi- 
gorous." 
Again,  in  Sir  A.  Gorges'  ti-anslation  of  the  sixth  Book  of  Lucan ; 

" Thessalian  fierie  steeds 

"  For  use  of  war  so  prone  and  fit.'*     STEEVENS. 

See  Vol.  VI.  p.  21 1»  n.  3.    MALONE. 


622  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

Yet,  on  my  conscience,  there  are  verier  knaves  de- 
sire to  live,  for  all  he  be  a  Roman  :  and  there  be 
some  of  them  too,  that  die  against  their  wills ;  so 
should  I,  if  I  were  one.  I  would  we  were  all  of 
one  mind,  and  one  mind  good ;  O,  there  were  de- 
solation of  gaolers,  and  gallowses !  I  speak  against 
my  present  profit  j  but  my  wish  hath  a  preferment 
in't.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  V.6 
Cymbeline's  Tent. 

Enter  CYMBELINE,  BELARIUS,  GUIDERIUS,  ARVI- 
RAGUS,  PISANIO,  Lords,  Officers,  and  Attend- 
ants. 

CYM.  Stand  by  my  side,  you  whom  the  gods  have 

made 

Preservers  of  my  throne.     Woe  is  my  heart, 
That  the  poor  soldier,  that  so  richly  fought, 
Whose  rags  sham'd  gilded  arms,  whose  naked  breast 
Stepp'd  before  targe  of  proof,  cannot  be  found : 
He  shall  be  happy  that  can  find  him,  if 

0  Scene  F.]  Let  those  who  talk  so  confidently  about  the  skill 
of  Shakspeare's  contemporary,  Jonson,  point  out  the  conclusion 
of  any  one  of  his  plays  which  is  wrought  with  more  artifice,  and 
yet  a  less  degree  of  dramatick  violence  than  this.  In  the  scene 
before  us,  all  the  surviving  characters  are  assembled ;  and  at  the 
expence  of  whatever  incongruity  the  former  events  may  have 
been  produced,  perhaps  little  can  be  discovered  on  this  occasion 
to  offend  the  most  scrupulous* advocate  for  regularity:  and,  I 
think,  as  little  is  found  wanting  to  satisfy  the  spectator  by  a  ca- 
tastrophe which  is  intricate  without  confusion,  and  not  more  rich 
in  ornament  than  in  nature.  STEEVENS. 


x.  r.  CYMBELINE.  623 

Our  grace  can  make  him  so. 

BEL.  I  never  saw 

Such  noble  fury  in  so  poor  a  thing ; 
Such  precious  deeds  in  one  that  promised  nought 
But  beggary  and  poor  looks.7 

CYM.  No  tidings  of  him  ? 

Pis.  He  hath  been  search' d  among  the  dead  and 

living. 
But  no  trace  of  him. 

CYM.  To  my  grief,  I  am 

The  heir  of  his  reward ;  which  I  will  add 
To  you,  the  liver,  heart,  and  brain  of  Britain, 

[To  BELARIUS,  GUIDERIUS,  and  ARVIRAGUS. 
By  whom,  I  grant,  she  lives :  'Tis  now  the  time 
To  ask  of  whence  you  are  : — report  it. 

BEL.  Sir, 

In  Cambria  are  we  born,  and  gentlemen : 
Further  to  boast,  were  neither  true  nor  modest, 
Unless  I  add,  we  are  honest. 

CYM.  Bow  your  knees : 

Arise,  my  knights  o'the  battle  ; 8  I  create  you 
Companions  to  our  person,  and  will  fit  you 
With  dignities  becoming  your  estates. 

7  — —  one  that  promised  nought 

But  beggary  and  poor  looks.']     To  promise  nothing  but  poor 
looks)  may  be,  to  give  no  promise  of  courageous  behaviour. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  King  Richard  II: 

"  To  look  so  poorly,  and  to  speak  so  fair."    STEEVENS. 

8  knights  o'the  battle;']     Thus,   in   Stowe's  Chronicle, 

p.  164,  edit.  1615  :  "  Philip  of  France  made  Arthur  Plantagenet 
knight  ofthejielde"     STEEVENS, 


624  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 


Enter  CORNELIUS  and  Ladies. 

There's  business  in  these  faces  : — Why  so  sadly 
Greet  you  our  victory  ?  you  look  like  Romans, 
And  not  o'the  court  of  Britain. 

COR.  Hail,  great  king! 

To  sour  your  happiness,  I  must  report 
The  queen  is  dead. 

CYM.  Whom  worse  than  a  physician  * 

Would  this  report  become  ?  But  I  consider, 
By  medicine  life  may  be  prolonged,  yet  death 
Will  seize  the  doctor  too.1 — How  ended  she  ? 

COR.  With  horror,  madly  dying,  like  her  life  ; 
Which,  being  cruel  to  the  world,  concluded 
Most  cruel  to  herself.     What  she  confessed, 
I  will  report,  so  please  you  :  These  her  women 
Can  trip  me,  if  I  err  ;  who,  with  wet  cheeks, 
Were  present  when  she  finish'd. 

CYM.  Pr'ythee,  say. 

COR.  First,  she  confessed  she  never  lov 'd  you  j  only 
Affected  greatness  got  by  you,  not  you  : 
Married  your  royalty,  was  wife  to  your  place  ; 
Abhorr'd  your  person. 

CYM.  She  alone  knew  this  : 

And,  but  she  spoke  it  dying,  I  would  not 
Believe  her  lips  in  opening  it.     Proceed. 

9  Whom  tuorse  than  a  physician — ]     Old  copy — Who.     Cor- 
rected in  the  second  folio.     MALONE. 

1  . yet  death 

Will  seize  the  doctor  too."]  This  observation  has  been  already 
made  at  the  end  of  the  second  stanza  of  the  funeral  Song,  p.  580 : 
"  The  sceptre,  learning,  physick,  must 
"  All  follow  this,  and  come  to  dust."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  625 

COR.  Your  daughter,  whom  she  bore  in  hand  to 

love2 

With  such  integrity,  she  did  confess 
Was  as  a  scorpion  to  her  sight ;  whose  life, 
But  that  her  flight  prevented  it,  she  had 
Ta'en  off  by  poison. 

CYM.  O  most  delicate  fiend ! 

Who  is't  can  read  a  woman  ? — Is  there  more  ? 

COR.  More,  sir,  and  worse.    She  did  confess,  she 

had 

For  you  a  mortal  mineral ;  which,  being  took, 
Should  by  the  minute  feed  on  life,  and,  ling' ring, 
By  inches  waste  you :   In  which  time  she  purposed, 
By  watching,  weeping,  tendance,  kissing,  to 
O'ercome  you  with  her  show :  yes,  and  in  time,3 
(When  she  had  fitted  you  with  her  craft,)  to  work 
Her  son  into  the  adoption  of  the  crown. 
But  failing  of  her  end  by  his  strange  absence, 
Grew  shameless-desperate  ;  open'd,  in  despite 
Of  heaven  and  men,  her  purposes  ;  repented 
The  evils  she  hatch' d  were  not  effected  j  so, 
Despairing,  died. 

CYM.  Heard  you  all  this,  her  women  ? 

LADY.  We  did  so,  please  your  highness. 

CYM.  Mine  eyes4 

Were  not  in  fault,  for  she  was  beautiful ; 

* lore  in  hand  to  love — ]  i.  e.  insidiously  taught  to  de- 
pend on  her  love.  See  Vol.  VI.  p.  224,  n.  9.  STEEVENS. 

3 yes,  and  in  time,']     Thus  the  second  folio.     The  first, 

injuriously  to  the  metre,  omits — yes.     STEEVENS. 

4  Mine  eyes — ]  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  very  adroitly,  in  my 
opinion,  supplies  the  syllable  here  wanting  to  the  metre,  by 
reading : 

Yet,  mine  eyes  &c.     STEEVENS. 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  s 


626  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

Mine  ears,  that  heard  her  flattery ;  nor  my  heart, 
That  thought  her  like  her  seeming ;  it  had  been 

vicious, 

To  have  mistrusted  her  :  yet,  O  my  daughter ! 
That  it  was  folly  in  me,  thou  may'st  say, 
And  prove  it  in  thy  feeling.     Heaven  mend  all ! 


Enter  Lucius,  IACHIMO,  the  Soothsayer,  and  other 
Roman  Prisoners,  guarded;  POSTHUMUS  behind, 
and  IMOGEN. 

Thou  com'st  not,  Caius,  now  for  tribute  ;  that 
The  Britons  have  raz'd  out,  though  with  the  loss 
Of  many  a  bold  one;  whose  kinsmen  have  made  suit, 
That  theirgood  souls  may  be  appeas'dwith  slaughter 
Of  you  their  captives,  which  ourself  have  granted: 
So,  think  of  your  estate. 

Luc.  Consider,  sir,  the  chance  of  war:  the  day 
Was  yours  by  accident  ;  had  it  gone  with  us, 
We  should  not,  when  the  blood  was  cool,  have 

threaten'd 

Our  prisoners  with  the  sword.  But  since  the  gods 
Will  have  it  thus,  that  nothing  but  our  lives 
May  be  calFd  ransome,  let  it  come  :  sufficeth, 
A  Roman  with  a  Roman's  heart  can  suffer  : 
Augustus  lives  to  think  on't  :  And  so  much 
For  my  peculiar  care.     This  one  thing  only 
I  will  entreat  ;  My  boy,  a  Briton  born, 
Let  him  be  ransom'd  :  never  master  had 
A  page  so  kind,  so  duteous,  diligent, 
So  tender  over  his  occasions,  true, 
So  feat,5  so  nurse-like  :  let  his  virtue  join 


*  So  fiat,']     So  ready;  so  dexterous  in  waiting. 
See  p.  408,  n.  1.    MALONE. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  627 

With  my  request,  which,  1*11  make  bold,  your  high- 
ness 

Cannot  deny ;  he  hath  done  no  Briton  harm, 
Though  he  have  serv'd  a  Roman  :  save  him,  sir, 
And  spare  no  blood  beside. 

CYM.  I  have  surely  seen  him : 

His  favour  is  familiar6  to  me. — 
Boy,  thou  hast  look'd  thyself  into  my  grace, 
And  art  mine  own. — I  know  not  why,  nor  where- 
fore, 

To  say,  live,  boy  :7  ne'er  thank  thy  master ;  live : 
And  ask  of  Cymbeline  what  boon  thou  wilt, 
Fitting  my  bounty,  and  thy  state,  I'll  give  it ; 
Yea,  though  thou  do  demand  a  prisoner, 
The  noblest  ta'en. 

IMO.  I  humbly  thank  your  highness. 

Luc.  I  do  not  bid  thee  beg  my  life,  good  lad  j 
And  yet,  I  know,  thou  wilt.  ° 

IMO.  No,  no :  alack, 

There's  other  work  in  hand ;  I  see  a  thing 
Bitter  to  me  as  death  :  your  life,  good  master, 
Must  shuffle  for  itself. 

Luc.  The  boy  disdains  me, 

He  leaves  me,  scorns  me  :  Briefly  die  their  joys, 
That  place  them  on  the  truth  of  girls  and  boys. — 
Why  stands  he  so  perplex'd  ? 

CYM.  What  would* st  thou,  boy  ? 

I  love  thee  more  and  more ;  think  more  and  more 

6  His  favour  is  familiar — ]     I  am  acquainted  with  his  coun- 
tenance.   JOHNSON. 

7  7  knotv  not  why,  nor  wherefore, 

To  say,  live,  boij :  ]  I  know  not  what  should  induce  me  to  say, 
Hve,  boy.  The  word  nor  was  inserted  by  Mr.  Kowe.  The  late 
editions  have — 7  say,  &c.  MALONE. 

2  s  2 


628  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

What's  best  to  ask.  Know'st  him  thou  look'st  on  ? 

speak, 
Wilt  have  him  live  ?  Is  he  thy  kin  ?  thy  friend  ? 

IMO.  He  is  a  Roman  ;  no  more  kin  to  me, 
Than  I  to  your  highness  ;  who,  being  born  your 

vassal, 
Am  something  nearer. 

CYM.  Wherefore  ey'st  him  so  ? 

IMO.  I'll  tell  you,  sir,  in  private,  if  you  please 
To  give  me  hearing. 

CYM.  Ay,  with  all  my  heart, 

And  lend  my  best  attention.     What's  thy  name  ? 

IMO.  Fidele,  sir. 

CYM.  Thou  art  my  good  youth,  my  page ; 

I'll  be  thy  master:  Walk  with  me;  speak  freely. 
[CYMBELINE  and  IMOGEN  converse  apart. 

BEL.  Is  not  this  boy  reviv'd  from  death  ?8 
ARV.  One  sand  another 

Not  more  resembles  :  That  sweet  rosy  lad, 
Who  died,  and  was  Fidele : — What  think  you  ? 

GUI.  The  same  dead  thing  alive. 

BEL.  Peace,  peace !  see  further;  he  eyes  us  not; 

forbear ; 

Creatures  may  be  alike :  were't  he,  I  am  sure 
He  would  have  spoke  to  us. 
GUI.  But  we  saw  him  dead. 

BEL.  Be  silent ;  let's  see  further. 
Pis.  It  is  my  mistress : 

[Aside. 

• reviv'd  from  death?]     The  words— -from  death,  which 

spoil  the  measure,  are  an  undoubted  interpolation.  From  what 
else  but  death  could  Imogen,  in  the  opinion  of  Belarius,  havr 
rtvived?  STEEVENS. 


sc.  r.  CYMBELINE.  629 

Since  she  is  living,  let  the  time  run  on, 
To  good,  or  bad. 

[CYMBELINE  and  IMOGEN  come  forward. 

CYM.  Come,  stand  thou  by  our  side ; 

Make  thy  demand  aloud. — Sir,  [To  IACH.]  step  you 

forth ; 

Give  answer  to  this  boy,  and  do  it  freely ; 
Or,  by  our  greatness,  and  the  grace  of  it, 
Which  is  our  honour,  bitter  torture  shall 
Winnow  the  truth  from  falsehood. — On,  speak  to 

him. 

IMO.  My  boon  is,  that  this  gentleman  may  render 
Of  whom  he  had  this  ring. 

POST.  What's  that  to  him  ? 

\_Aside. 

CYM.  That  diamond  upon  your  finger,  say, 
How  came  it  yours  ? 

IACH.  Thou'lt  torture  me  to  leave  unspoken  that 
Which,  to  be  spoke,  would  torture  thee. 

CYM.  How!  me? 

IACH.  I  am  glad  to  be  constrain'd  to  utter  that 

which9 

Torments  me  to  conceal.     By  villainy 
I  got  this  ring ;  'twas  Leonatus*  jewel : 
Whom  thou  didst  banish  ;  and  (which  more  may 

grieve  thee, 
As  it  doth  me,)  a  nobler  sir  ne'er  liv'd    . 


9 tvhich — ]     Mr.  Ritson  (and  I  perfectly  agree  with  him) 

is  of  opinion  that  this  pronoun  should  be  omitted,  as  in  elliptical 
language,  on  similar  occasions,  is  often  known  to  have  been  the 
case.  How  injurious  this  syllable  is  to  the  present  measure,  I 
think  no  reader  of  judgment  can  fail  to  perceive.  STEEVENS. 


630  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

'Twixt  sky  and  ground.  Wilt  thou  hear  more,  my 
lord?1 

CYM.  All  that  belongs  to  this. 

IACH.  That  paragon,  thy  daughter, — 

For  whom  my  heart  drops  blood,  and  my  false 

spirits 
Quail  to  remember,2 — Give  me  leave ;  I  faint. 

CYM.  My  daughter !  what  of  her  ?  Renew  thy 

strength : 

I  had  rather  thou  should' st  live  while  nature  will, 
Than  die  ere  I  hear  more  :  strive,  man,  and  speak. 

IACH.  Upon  a  time,  (unhappy  was  the  clock 
That  struck  the  hour !)  it  was  in  Rome,  (accurs'd 
The  mansion  where !)  'twas  at  a  feast,  (O  'would 
Our  viands  had  been  poison'd !  or,  at  least, 
Those  which  I  heav'd  to  head !)  the  good  Posthu- 

mus, 

(What  should  I  say  ?  he  was  too  good,  to  be 
Where  ill  men  were ;  and  was  the  best  of  all 
Amongst  the  rar'st  of  good  ones,)  sitting  sadly, 
Hearing  us  praise  our  loves  of  Italy 
For  beauty  that  made  barren  the  swell'd  boast 

1  . Wilt  thou  hear  more,  my  lord?  &c.]    The  metre  will 

become  perfectly  regular  if  we  read : 

' Tiaixt  sky  and  ground.     Wilt  more,  my  lord? 

Cym.   "  All  that 

Belongs  to  this. 

lacn.  That  paragon,  thy  daughter, — . 

In  elliptical  language,  such  words  as — thou  hear,  are  frequently 
omitted ;  but  the  players,  or  transcribers,  as  in  former  instances, 
were  unsatisfied  till  the  metre  was  destroyed  by  the  insertion  of 
whatever  had  been  purposely  left  out.  STEEVENS. 

*  Quail  to  remember,'}  To  quail  is  to  sink  into  dejection.  The 
word  is  common  to  many  authors.  So,  in  The  Three  Ladies  of 
London,  1584:  "She  cannot  quail  me  if  she  come  in  likeness 
of  the  great  Devil."  See  Vol.  VIII.  p.  46,  n.  8 ;  and  Vol.  XI. 
p.  372,  n.  2.  STEEVENS. 


ac.  v.  CYMBELINE.  631 

Of  him  that  best  could  speak :  for  feature,  laming 
The  shrine  of  Venus,  or  straight-pight  Minerva, 
Postures  beyond  brief  nature  ;3  for  condition, 
A  shop  of  all  the  qualities  that  man 
Loves  woman  for ;  besides,  that  hook  of  wiving, 
Fairness  which  strikes  the  eye  : 

CYM.  I  stand  on  fire : 

Come  to  the  matter. 

IACH.  All  too  soon  I  shall, 

-for  feature,  laming 


The  shrine  of  Venus,  or  straight-pight  Minerva, 
Postures  beyond  brief  nature ;~\     Feature  for  proportion  of 
parts,  which  Mr.  Theobald  not  understanding,  would  alter  to 
stature: 

for  feature,  laming 

The  shrine  of  Venus,  or  straight-pight  Minerva, 

Postures  beyond  brief  nature; 

i.  e.  the  ancient  statues  of  Venus  and  Minerva,  which  exceeded, 
in  beauty  of  exact  proportion,  any  living  bodies,  the  work  of 
brief  nature;  i.  e.  of  hasty,  unelaborate  nature.     He  gives  the 
same  character  of  the  beauty  of  the  antique  in  Antony  and  Cleo 
patra : 

"  O'er-picturing  that  Venus  where  we  see 

"  The  fancy  outwork  nature." 

It  appears,  from  a  number  of  such  passages  as  these,  that  our 
author  was  not  ignorant  of  the  fine  arts.     WARBURTON. 

I  cannot  help  adding,  that  passages  of  this  kind  are  but  weak 
proofs  that  our  poet  was  conversant  with  what  we  at  present  call 
the  Jine  arts.  The  pantheons  of  his  own  age  (several  of  which 
I  have  seen)  afford  a  most  minute  and  particular  account  of  the 
different  degrees  of  beauty  imputed  to  the  different  deities ;  and 
as  Shakspeare  had  at  least  an  opportunity  of  reading  Chapman's 
translation  of  Homer,  the  first  part  of  which  was  published  in 
1596,  with  additions  in  1598,  and  entire  in  1611,  he  might  have 
taken  these  ideas  from  thence,  without  being  at  all  indebted  to 
his  own  particular  observation,  or  acquaintance  with  statuary  and 
painting.  It  is  surely  more  for  his  honour  to  remark  how  well 
he  has  employed  the  little  knowledge  he  appears  to  have  had  of 
sculpture  or  mythology,  than  from  his  frequent  allusions  to  them 
to  suppose  he  was  intimately  acquainted  with  either. 

STEEVENS. 


632  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

Unless  thou  would'st  grieve  quickly.  —  This  Posthu- 

mus, 

(Most  like  a  noble  lord  in  love,  and  one 
That  had  a  royal  lover,)  took  his  hint  ; 
And,  not  dispraising  whom  we  prais'd,  (therein 
He  was  as  calm  as  virtue)  he  began 
His  mistress  picture  ;  which  by  his  tongue  being 

made, 

And  then  a  mind  put  in't,  either  our  brags 
Were  crack'd  of  kitchen  trulls,  or  his  description 
Proved  us  unspeaking  sots. 

CYM.  Nay,  nay,  to  the  purpose. 

IACH.  Your  daughter's  chastity  —  there  it  begins. 
He  spake  of  her  as  Dian4  had  hot  dreams, 
And  she  alone  were  cold  :  Whereat,  I,  wretch  ! 
Made  scruple  of  his  praise  ;  and  wager'd  with  him 
Pieces  of  gold,  'gainst  this  which  then  he  wore 
Upon  his  honour/d  finger,  to  attain 
In  suit  the  place  of  his  bed,  and  win  this  ring 
By  hers  and  mine  adultery  :  he,  true  knight, 
No  lesser  of  her  honour  confident 
Than  I  -did  truly  find  her,  stakes  this  ring  ; 
And  would  so,  had  it  been  a  carbuncle 
Of  Phoebus'  wheel  ;5  and  might  so  safely,  had  it 
Been  all  the  worth  of  his  car.     Away  to  Britain 
Post  I  in  this  design  :  Well  may  you,  sir, 
Remember  me  at  court,  where  I  was  taught 
Of  your  chaste  daughter  the  wide  difference 
'Twixt  amorous  and  villainous.  Beingthusquench'd 


4  -  as  Dian  —  ]  i.  e.  as  if  Dian.  So,  in  The  Winter's 
Tale:  "  —  he  utters  them  as  he  had  eaten  ballads."  See  also, 
Vol.  XII.  p.  196,  n.  9.  MALONE. 

*  -  a  carbuncle  tSv.]      So,  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra: 
"  He  has  deserv'd  it,  were  it  carbuncled 
"  Like  Phoebus  car."     STEEVENS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  633 

Of  hope,  not  longing,  mine  Italian  brain 
'Gan  in  your  duller  Britain  operate 
Most  vilely  ;  for  my  vantage,  excellent ; 
And,  to  be  brief,  my  practice  so  prevail'd, 
That  I  returned  with  simular  proof  enough 
To  make  the  noble  Leonatus  mad, 
By  wounding  his  belief  in  her  renown 
With  tokens  thus,  and  thus ;  averring  notes6 
Of  chamber-hanging,  pictures,  this  her  bracelet, 
(O,  cunning,  how  I  got  it !)  nay,  some  marks 
Of  secret  on  her  person,  that  he  could  not 
But  think  her  bond  of  chastity  quite  crack'd, 
I  having  ta'en  the  forfeit.     Whereupon, — 
Methinks,  I  see  him  now, 

POST.  Ay,  so  thou  dost, 

{Coming  forward. 

Italian  fiend ! — Ah  me,  most  credulous  fool, 
Egregious  murderer,  thief,  any  thing 
That's  due  to  all  the  villains  past,  in  being, 
To  come ! — O,  give  me  cord,  or  knife,  or  poison, 
Some  upright  justicer!7  Thou,  king,  send  out 
For  torturers  ingenious  :  it  is  I 

6  averring  notes — ]     Such  marks  of  the  chamber  and 

pictures,  as  averred  or  confirmed  my  report.     JOHNSON. 

7  Some  upright  justicer!]     I  meet  with  this  antiquated  word 
in  The  Tragedy  of  Darius,  1603: 

"  — . . this  day, 

"  Th'  eternal  justicer  sees  through  the  stars.'* 
Again,  in  Law  Tricks,  &c.  1608 : 

"  No :  we  must  have  an  upright  justicer." 
Again,  in  Warner's  Albion's  England,  1602,  B.  X.  ch.  liv: 

"  Precelling  his  progenitors,  &  justicer  upright." 

STEEVENS. 

Justicer  is  used  by  Shakspeare  thrice  in  King  Lear. 

HENLEY. 

The  most  ancient  law  books  have  justicers  of  the  peace,  as 
frequently  as  justices  of  the  peace.     REED. 


634  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

That  all  the  abhorred  things  o'the  earth  amend, 
By  being  worse  than  they.     I  am  Posthumus, 
That  kill'd  thy  daughter : — villain-like,  I  lie ; 
That  caus'd  a  lesser  villain  than  myself, 
A  sacrilegious  thief,  to  do't : — the  temple 
Of  virtue  was  she;  yea,  and  she  herself.8 
Spit,  and  throw  stones,  cast  mire  upon  me,  set 
The  dogs  o'the  street  to  bay  me  :  every  villain 
Be  call'd,  Posthumus  Leonatus ;  and 
Be  villainy  less  than  'twas ! — O  Imogen  ! 
My  queen,  my  life,  my  wife !  O  Imogen, 
Imogen,  Imogen ! 

IMO.  Peace,  my  lord ;  hear,  hear — 

POST.  Shall's  have  a  play  of  this  ?  Thou  scornful 

page, 
There  lie  thy  part.  [Striking  her:  she  falls. 

Pis.  O,  gentlemen,  help,  help 

Mine,  and  your  mistress  : — O,  my  lord  Posthumus! 
You  ne'er  kill'd  Imogen  till  now : — Help,  help  ! — 
Mine  honoured  lady ! 

CYM.  Does  the  world  go  round  ? 

POST.  How  come  these  staggers9  on  me  ? 

Pis.  Wake,  my  mistress ! 

CYM.  If  this  be  so,  the  gods  do  mean  to  strike  me 
To  death  with  mortal  joy. 

Pis.  How  fares  my  mistress  ? 

I  MO.  O,  get  thee  from  my  sight ; 
Thou  gav'st  me  poison  :  dangerous  fellow,  hence  ! 
Breathe  not  where  princes  are. 


8  and  she  herself."]   That  is, — She  was  not  only  the  temple 

of  virtue,  but  virtue  herself.    JOHNSON. 

9  these  staggers — ]  This  wild  and  delirious  perturbation. 

Staggers  is  the  horse's  apoplexy.    JOHNSON. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  635 

GYM.  The  tune  of  Imogen ! 

Pis.  Lady, 

The  gods  throw  stones  of  sulphur  on  me,  if 
That  box  I  gave  you  was  not  thought  by  me 
A  precious  thing ;  I  had  it  from  the  queen. 

CYM.  New  matter  still  ? 

IMO.  It  poison' d  me. 

COR.  OGods!— 

I  left  out  one  thing  which  the  queen  confessed, 
Which  must  approve  thee  honest :  If  Pisanio 
Have,  said  she,  given  his  mistress  that  confection 
Which  I  gave  him  for  a  cordial,  she  is  serv'd 
As  I  would  serve  a  rat. 

CYM.  What's  this,  Cornelius  ? 

COR.  The  queen,  sir,  very  oft  importun'd  me 
To  temper  poisons  for  her ;  still  pretending 
The  satisfaction  of  her  knowledge,  only 
In  killing  creatures  vile,  as  cats  and  dogs 
Of  no  esteem  :  I,  dreading  that  her  purpose 
Was  of  more  danger,  did  compound  for  her 
A  certain  stuff,  which,  being  ta'en,  would  cease 
The  present  power  of  life ;  but,  in  short  time, 
All  offices  of  nature  should  again 
Do  their  due  functions. — Have  you  ta'en  of  it? 

IMO.  Most  like  I  did,  for  I  was  dead. 

BEL.  My  boys, 

There  was  our  error. 

GUI.  This  is  sure,  Fidele. 

IMO.  Why  did  you  throw  your  wedded  lady  from 

you? 
Think,  that  you  are  upon  a  rock  ;  l  and  now 


1  Think,  that  you  are  upon  a  rock;"]  In  this  speech,  or  in  the 
answer,  there  is  little  meaning.     I  suppose,  she  would  say,— 


636  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

Throw  me  again.  [Embracing  him. 

POST.  Hang  there  like  fruit,  my  soul, 

Till  the  tree  die  I 

CYM.  How  now,  my  flesh,  my  child  ? 

What,  mak'st  thou  me  a  dullard2  in  this  act  ? 
Wilt  thou  not  speak  to  me  ? 

IMO.  Your  blessing,  sir. 

[Kneeling. 

BEL.  Though  you  did  love  this  youth,  I  blame 
ye  not  j 

Consider  such  another  act  as  equally  fatal  to  me  with  precipitation 
from  a  rock,  and  now  let  me  see  whether  you  will  repeat  it. 

JOHNSON. 

Perhaps  only  a  stage  direction  is  wanting  to  clear  this  passage 
from  obscurity.  Imogen  first  upbraids  her  husband  for  the  violent 
treatment  she  had  just  experienced ;  then  confident  of  the  return 
of  passion  which  she  knew  must  succeed  to  the  discovery  of  her 
innocence,  the  poet  might  have  meant  her  to  rush  into  his  arms, 
and  while  she  clung  about  him  fast,  to  dare  him  to  throw  her  off 
a  second  time,  lest  that  precipitation  should  prove  as  fatal  to  them 
both,  as  if  the  place  where  they  stood  had  been  a  rock.  To 
which  he  replies,  hang  there,  i.  e.  round  my  neck,  till  the  frame 
that  now  supports  you  shall  decay. 

Though  the  speeches  that  follow  are  necessary  to  the  complete 
evolution  of  our  author's  plot,  the  interest  of  the  drama  may  be 
said  to  conclude  with  the  re-union  of  Posthumus  and  Imogen : 

" receptum 

"  Fcedus,  et  intrepidos  nox  conscia  jungit  amantes." 
In  defence  of  this  remark,  I  may  subjoin,  that  both  Aristarchus, 
and  Aristophanes  the  grammarian,  were  of  opinion  that  the 
Odyssey  should  have  concluded  when  Ulysses  and  Penelope — 

"  'AtnfAcrioi  Xwrpoio  itaX&is  Setrpov  IKOVTO." 

STEEVENS. 

*  a  dullard — 3  In  this  place  means  a  person  stupidly  un- 
concerned. So,  in  Histriomastix,  or  the  Player  whipt,  1610: 

"  What  dullard!  would'st  thou  doat  in  rusty  art?" 
Again,  Stanyhurst  in  his  version  of  the  first  Book  of  Virgil, 
1582: 

"  We  Moores,  lyke  dullards,  are  not  so  wytles  abyding." 

STEEVENS. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  637 

You  had  a  motive  for't. 

[To  GUIDERIUS  and  ARVIRAGUS. 

CYM.  My  tears,  that  fall, 

Prove  holy  water  on  thee  !  Imogen, 
Thy  mother's  dead. 

IMO.  I  am  sorry  for't,  my  lord. 

CYM.  O,  she  was  naught;  and  'long  of  her  it  was, 
That  we  meet  here  so  strangely :  But  her  son 
Is  gone,  we  know  not  how,  nor  where. 

Pis.  My  lord, 

Now  fear  is  from  me,  I'll  speak  troth.  Lord  Cloten, 
Upon  my  lady's  missing,  came  to  me 
With  his  sword  drawn ;  foam'd  at  the  mouth,  and 

swore, 

If  I  discover'd  not  which  way  she  was  gone, 
It  was  my  instant  death  :  By  accident, 
I  had  a  feigned  letter  of  my  master's 
Then  in  my  pocket;  which  directed  him3 
To  seek  her  on  the  mountains  near  to  Milford ; 
Where,  in  a  frenzy,  in  my  master's  garments, 
Which  he  inforc'd  from  me,  away  he  posts 
With  unchaste  purpose,  and  with  oath  to  violate 
My  lady's  honour :  what  became  of  him, 
I  further  know  not. 

GUI.  Let  me  end  the  story : 

I  slew  him  there. 

CYM.  Marry,  the  gods  forfend ! 

I  would  not  thy  good  deeds  should  from  my  lips 
Pluck  a  hard  sentence :  pr'ythee,  valiant  youth, 
Deny't  again. 

GUI.  I  have  spoke  it,  and  I  did  it. 

*  ivhick  directed  him — ]  Which  led  or  induced  him. 

MALONE. 


638  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

CYM.  He  was  a  prince. 

GUI.  A  most  uncivil  one :  The  wrongs  he  did  me 
Were  nothing  prince-like ;  for  he  did  provoke  me 
With  language  that  would  make  me  spurn  the  sea, 
If  it  could  so  roar  to  me  :  I  cut  off's  head ; 
And  am  right  glad,  he  is  not  standing  here 
To  tell  this  tale  of  mine. 

CYM.  I  am  sorry  for  thee  :4 

By  thine  own  tongue  thou  art  condemned,  and  must 
Endure  our  law :  Thou  art  dead. 

IMO.  That  headless  man 

I  thought  had  been  my  lord. 

CYM.  Bind  the  offender, 

And  take  him  from  our  presence. 

BEL.  Stay,  sir  king : 

This  man  is  better  than  the  man  he  slew, 
As  well  descended  as  thyself;  and  hath 
More  of  thee  merited,  than  a  band  of  Clotens 
Had  ever  scar  for. — Let  his  arms  alone  ; 

[To  the  Guard. 
They  were  not  born  for  bondage. 

CYM.  Why,  old  soldier, 

Wilt  thou  undo  the  worth  thou  art  unpaid  for, 
By  tasting  of  our  wrath  ?5  How  of  descent 
As  good  as  we  ? 

ARV.  In  that  he  spake  too  far. 

CYM.  And  thou  shalt  die  for't. 


4  I  am  sorry  for  thee:~\  The  old  copy  has — 

/  am  sorrow  for  thee. 

This  obvious  error  of  the  press  was  corrected  in  the  second  folio. 

MALONE. 

4  By  tasting  of  our  "wrath  ?]     The  consequence  is  taken  for  the 
whole  action ;  by  tasting  is  by  forcing  us  to  make  thee  to  taste. 

JOHNSON. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  639 

BEL.  We  will  die  all  three : 

But  I  will  prove,  that  two  of  us  are  as  good 
As  I  have  given  out  him. — My  sons,  I  must, 
For  mine  own  part,  unfold  a  dangerous  speech, 
Though,  haply,  well  for  you. 

ARV.  Your  danger  is 

Ours. 

GUI.  And  our  good  his. 

BEL.  Have  at  it  then.-— 

By  leave  ; — Thou  hadst,  great  king,  a  subject,  who 
Was  calPd  Belarius. 

CYM.  What  of  him  ?  he  is 

A  banish'd  traitor. 

BEL.  He  it  is,  that  hath 

Assum'd  this  age  :6  indeed,  a  banish'd  man ; 
I  know  not  how,  a  traitor. 

CYM.  Take  him  hence  j 

The  whole  world  shall  not  save  him. 

BEL.  Not  too  hot : 

First  pay  me  for  the  nursing  of  thy  sons  j 
And  let  it  be  confiscate  all,  so  soon 
As  I  have  received  it. 


6  Assum'd  this  age:]  I  believe  is  the  same  as  reached  or 
attained  this  age.  STEEVENS. 

As  there  is  no  reason  to  imagine  that  Belarius  had  assumed 
the  appearance  of  being  older  than  he  really  was,  I  suspect  that 
instead  of  age,  we  should  read  gage;  so  that  he  may  be  under- 
stood to  refer  to  the  engagement,  which  he  had  entered  into,  a 
few  lines  before,  in  these  words : 
"  We  will  die  all  three : 
"  But  I  will  prove  two  of  us  are  as  good 
"  As  I  have  given  out  him."     TYRWHITT. 

Assum'd  this  age,  has  a  reference  to  the  different  appearance 
which  Belarius  now  makes,  in  comparison  with  that  when  Cym- 
beline  last  saw  him.  HENLEY. 


640  CYMBELINE.  ACT  r. 

CYM.  Nursing  of  my  sons  ? 

BEL.  I  am  too  blunt,  and  saucy:  Here's  my 

knee; 

Ere  I  arise,  I  will  prefer  my  sons ; 
Then,  spare  not  the  old  father.     Mighty  sir, 
These  two  young  gentlemen,  that  call  me  father, 
And  think  they  are  my  sons,  are  none  of  mine ; 
They  are  the  issue  of  your  loins,  my  liege, 
And  blood  of  your  begetting. 

CYM.  How !  my  issue  ? 

BEL.  So  sure  as  you  your  father's.  I,  old  Morgan, 
Am  that  Belarius  whom  you  sometime  banish'd : 
Your  pleasure  was  my  mere  offence,7  my  punish- 
ment 

Itself,  and  all  my  treason  ;  that  I  suffer'd, 
Was  all  the  harm  I  did.     These  gentle  princes 
(For  such,  and  so  they  are,)  these  twenty  years 
Have  I  train'd  up  :  those  arts  they  have,  as  I 
Could  put  into  them  ;  my  breeding  was,  sir,  as 

7  ^Your  pleasure  ivas  my  mere  offence,  &c.]     [Modern  editors 
—near.']     I  think  this  passage  may  better  be  read  thus: 
Your  pleasure  was  my  dear  offence,  my  punishment 
Itself,  was  all  my  treason;  that  I  sujfer'd, 

Was  all  the  harm  I  did. 

The  offence  which  cost  me  so  dear  was  only  your  caprice.     My 
sufferings  have  been  all  my  crime.     JOHNSON. 

The  reading  of  the  old  copies,  though  corrupt,  is  generally 
nearer  to  the  truth  than  that  of  the  later  editions,  which,  for  the 
most  part,  adopt  the  orthography  of  their  respective  ages. 

Dr.  Johnson  would  read— -dear  offence.  In  the  folio  it  is 
neere ;  which  plainly  points  out  to  us  the  true  reading — meere,  as 
the  word  was  then  spelt.  TYRWHITT. 

My  crime,  my  punishment,  and  all  the  treason  that  I  com- 
mitted, originated  in,  and  were  founded  on,  your  caprice  only. 

MALONE. 

I  have  adopted  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  very  judicious  emendation ; 
which  is  also  commended  by  Mr.  Malone.  STEEVENS* 


sc.v.  CYMBELINE.  641 

Your  highness  knows.     Their  nurse,  Euriphile, 
Whom  for  the  theft  I  wedded,  stole  these  children 
Upon  my  banishment:  I  mov'd  her  to't  j 
Having  received  the  punishment  before, 
For  that  which  I  did  then :  Beaten  for  loyalty 
Excited  me  to  treason :  Their  dear  loss, 
The  more  of  you  'twas  felt,  the  more  it  shap'd 
Unto  my  end  of  stealing  them.  But,  gracious  sir, 
Here  are  your  sons  again ;  and  I  must  lose 
Two  of  the  sweet' st  companions  in  the  world : — 
The  benediction  of  these  covering  heavens 
Fall  on  their  heads  like  dew !  for  they  are  worthy 
To  inlay  heaven  with  stars.8 

CYM.  Thou  weep'st,  and  speak'st.9 

The  service,  that  you  three  have  done,  is  more 
Unlike  than  this  thou  tell'st :  I  lost  my  children  j 
If  these  be  they,  I  know  not  how  to  wish 
A  pair  of  worthier  sons. 

BEL.  Be  pleas'd  a  while. — 

This  gentleman,  whom  I  call  Polydore, 
Most  worthy  prince,  as  yours,  is  true  Guiderius : 
This  gentleman,  my  Cadwal,  Arviragus, 
Your  younger  princely  son ;  he,  sir,  was  lapp'd 
In  a  most  curious  mantle,  wrought  by  the  hand 
Of  his  queen  mother,  which,  for  more  probation, 


'  To  inlay  heaven  ivith  stars.]     So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  : 
"  Take  him  and  cut  him  into  little  stars, 
"  And  he  will  make  the  face  of  heaven  sojine,"  &c. 

STEEVENS. 

9  Thou  iveep'st  and  speak*  st.~\  "  Thy  tears  give  testimony  to 
the  sincerity  of  thy  relation ;  and  I  have  the  less  reason  to  be 
incredulous,  because  the  actions  which  you  have  done  within  my 
knowledge  are  more  incredible  than  the  story  which  you  relate." 
The  King  reasons  very  justly.  JOHNSON. 

VOL.  XVIII.  2  T 


642  CYMBELINE.  ACTV. 

I  can  with  ease  produce. 

CYM.  Guiderius  had 

Upon  his  neck  a  mole,  a  sanguine  star ; 
It  was  a  mark  of  wonder. 

BEL.  This  is  he ; 

Who  hath  upon  him  still  that  natural  stamp : 
It  was  wise  nature's  end  in  the  donation, 
To  be  his  evidence  now. 

CYM.  O,  what  am  I 

A  mother  to  the  birth  of  three  ?  Ne'er  mother 
Rejoic'd  deliverance  more : — Bless'd  may  you  be,1 
That,  after  this  strange  starting  from  your  orbs, 
You  may  reign  in  them  now ! — O  Imogen, 
Thou  hast  lost  by  this  a  kingdom. 

IMO.  No,  my  lord ; 

I  have  got  two  worlds  by't. — O  my  gentle  brother, 
Have  we  thus  met  ?  O  never  say  hereafter, 
But  I  am  truest  speaker :  you  call'd  me  brother, 
When  I  was  but  your  sister  ;  I  you  brothers, 
When  you  were  so  indeed.2 

CYM.  Did  you  e'er  meet  ? 

ARV.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

1 may  you  be,~\     The  old  copy  reads — pray  you  be. 

STEEVENS. 

The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe.    MALONE. 

*  When  you  were  so  indeed.]     The  folio  gives  : 

When  we  were  so,  indeed. 
If  this  be  right,  we  must  read : 
Imo.     /,  you  brothers. 
Arv.  When  we  were  so,  indeed.    JOHNSON. 

The  emendation  which  has  been  adopted,  was  made  by  Mr. 
Rowe.  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  necessary.  Shaks;peare  in  his 
licentious  manner  might  have  meant, — "  when  we  did  really 
stand  in  the  relation  of  brother  and  sister  to  each  other." 

MALONE. 


S6.  v.  CYMBELINE.  643 

GUI.  And  at  first  meeting  lov'd ; 

Continued  so,  until  we  thought  he  died. 

COR.  By  the  queen's  dram  she  swallowed. 

CYM.  O  rare  instinct ! 

When    shall    I   hear   all   through  ?    This   fierce 

abridgment3 

Hath  to  it  circumstantial  branches,  which 
Distinction  should  be  rich  in.4 — Where  ?  how  liv'd 

you? 

And  when  came  you  to  serve  our  Roman  captive? 
How  parted  with  your  brothers  ?   how  first  met 

them  ? 

Why  fled  you  from  the  court?  and  whither?5  These, 
And  your  three  motives  to  the  battle,6  with 
I  know  not  how  much  more,  should  be  demanded; 
And  all  the  other  by-dependancies, 
From  chance  to  chance ;  but  nor  the  time,  nor 

place, 


3  '  fierce  abridgment — ]     Fierce,  is  vehement,  rapid. 

JOHNSON. 

So,  in  Timon  of  Athens: 

"  O,  theferce  wretchedness  that  glory  brings !" 

STEEVENS. 

See  also  Vol.  VII.  p.  206,  n.  6.    MALONE. 

4  — — - — tvhich 

Distinction  should  be  rich  in.~\     i.  e.  which  ought  to  be  ren- 
dered distinct  by  a  liberal  amplitude  of  narrative.      STEEVENS. 

4 owe?  whither?]     Old  copy — whether.     The  correction 

was  made  by  Mr.  Theobald,  who  likewise  reformed  the  pointing. 

MALONE. 

6  And  your  three  motives  to  the  battle,]  That  is,  though 
strangely  expressed,  the  motives  of  you  three  for  engaging  in  the 
battle.  So,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  "  both  our  remedies,"  means 
the  remedy  for  us  both.  M.  MASON. 

2T2 


644  CYMBELINE.  Acrr. 

Will  serve  our  long  intergatories.7     See, 
Posthiimus  anchors  upon  Imogen ; 
And  she,  like  harmless  lightning,  throws  her  eye 
On  him,  her  brothers,  me,  her  master  ;  hitting 
Each  object  with  a  joy ;  the  counterchange 
Is  severally  in  all.     Let's  quit  this  ground, 
And  smoke  the  temple  with  our  sacrifices. — 
Thou  art  my  brother  ;  So  we'll  hold  thee  ever. 

[2'o  BELARIUS. 

IMO.  You  are  my  father  too ;  and  did  relieve  me, 
To  see  this  gracious  season. 

CYM.  All  o'erjoy'd, 

Save  these  in  bonds;  let  them  be  joyful  too, 
For  they  shall  taste  our  comfort. 

IMO.  My  good  master, 

I  will  yet  do  you  service. 

Luc.  Happy  be  you! 

CYM.  The  forlorn  soldier,  that  so  nobly  fought, 
He  would  have  well  becom'd  this  place,  and  grac'd 
The  thankings  of  a  king. 

POST.  I  am,  sir, 

The  soldier  that  did  company  these  three 
In  poor  beseeming;  'twas  a  fitment  for 

7  Will  serve  OUT  long  intergatories.]  So  the  first  folio.  Later 
editors  have  omitted  our,  for  the  sake  of  the  metre,  I  suppose  ; 
but  unnecessarily ;  as  interrogatory  is  used  by  Shakspeare  as  a 
word  of  five  syllables.  See  The  Merchant  of  Venice  near  the 
end,  where  in  the  old  edition  it  is  written  inter -gatory. 

TYRWHITT. 

See  also  Vol.  VIII.  p.  357,  n.  4.  I  believe  this  word  was  ge- 
nerally used  as  one  of  five  syllables  in  our  author's  time.  To  the 
proofs  already  adduced  may  be  added  the  following  from  Novel- 
fa,  by  Brome,  Act  II.  sc.  i : 

" Then  you  must  answer 

"  To  these  intergatories."     REED. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  645 

The  purpose  I  then  followed ; — That  I  was  he, 
Speak,  lachimo ;  I  had  you  down,  and  might 
Have  made  you  finish. 

IACH.  I  am  down  again  : 

[Kneeling. 

But  now  my  heavy  conscience  sinks  my  knee, 
As  then  your  force  did.     Take  that  life,  'beseech 

you, 

Which  I  so  often  owe :  but,  your  ring  first ; 
And  here  the  bracelet  of  the  truest  princess, 
That  ever  swore  her  faith. 

POST.  Kneel  not  to  me ; 

The  power  that  I  have  on  you,  is  to  spare  you  ; 
The  malice  towards  you,  to  forgive  you :  Live, 
And  deal  with  others  better. 

CYM.  Nobly  doom'd : 

We'll  learn  our  freeness  of  a  son-in-law ; 
Pardon's  the  word  to  all. 

ARV.  You  holp  us,  sir, 

As  you  did  mean  indeed  to  be  our  brother ; 
Joy'd  are  we,  that  you  are. 

POST.  Your  servant,  princes. — Good  my  lord  of 

Rome, 

Call  forth  your  soothsayer  :  As  I  slept,  methought, 
Great  Jupiter,  upon  his  eagle  back, 
Appear'd  to  me,  with  other  spritely  shows8 
Of  mine  own  kindred :  when  I  wak'd,  I  found 
This  label  on  my  bosom  ;  whose  containing 
Is  so  from  sense  in  hardness,  that  I  can 
Make  no  collection  of  it:9  let  him  show 


8 spritely  shows — ]     Are  groups  of  sprites,  ghostly  ap- 
pearances.    STEEVENS. 

9  Make  no  collection  of  it :]  A  collection  is  a  corollary,  a  con- 


646  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

His  skill  in  the  construction. 

Luc.  Philarmonus, 

SOOTH.  Here,  my  good  lord. 

Luc.  Read,  and  declare  the  meaning. 


SOOTH.  [Reads.]  When  as  a  lion's  'whelp  shall, 
to  himself  unknown,  without  seeking  Jind,  and  be 
embraced  by  a  piece  of  tender  air;  and  'when  from 
a  stately  cedar  shall  be  lopped  branches,  'which,  be- 
ing dead  many  years,  shall  after  revive,  be  jointed  to 
the  old  stock,  and  freshly  grow;  then  shall  Posthu- 
mus  end  his  miseries,  Britain  be  fortunate,  and  flou- 
rish in  peace  and  'plenty. 

Thou,  Leonatus,  art  the  lion's  whelp ; 
The  fit  and  apt  construction  of  thy  name, 
Being  Leo-natus,  doth  import  so  much  : 
The  piece  of  tender  air,  thy  virtuous  daughter, 

\To  CYMBELINE. 

Which  we  call  mollis  aer;  and  mollis  aer 
We  term  it  mulier:  which  mulier  I  divine, 
Is  this  most  constant  wife ;  who,  even  now, 
Answering  the  letter  of  the  oracle, 


sequence  deduced  from  premises.     So,  in  Sir  John  Davies's 
poem  on  The  Immortality  of  the  Soul: 

"  When  she,  from  sundry  arts,  one  skill  doth  draw ; 

"  Gath'ring  from  divers  sights,  one  act  of  war ; 
"  From  many  cases  like,  one  rule  of  law : 
"  These  her  collections,  not  the  senses  are." 

STEEVENS. 

So,  the  Queen  says  to  Hamlet : 

" Her  speech  is  nothing, 

"  Yet  the  unshaped  use  of  it  doth  move 

"  The  hearers  to  collection" 
Whose  containing  means,  the  contents  of  which.    M.  MASON. 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  647 

Unknown  to  you,  unsought,  were  clipp'd  about 
With  this  most  tender  air. 

CYM.  This  hath  some  seeming. 

SOOTH.  The  lofty  cedar,  royal  Cymbeline, 
Personates  thee  :  and  thy  lopp'd  branches  point 
Thy  two  sons  forth  :  who,  by  Belarius  stolen, 
For  many  years  thought  dead,  are  now  reviv'd, 
To  the  majestick  cedar  join'd  ;  whose  issue 
Promises  Britain  peace  and  plenty. 

CYM.  Well, 

My  peace  we  will  begin  : ! — And,  Caius  Lucius, 
Although  the  victor,  we  submit  to  Caesar, 
And  to  the  Roman  empire  ;  promising 
To  pay  our  wonted  tribute,  from  the  which 
We  were  dissuaded  by  our  wicked  queen  ; 
Whom  heavens,  in  justice,  (both  on  her,  and  hers,) 
Have  laid  most  heavy  hand.2 


1  My  peace  tve  will  begin:"]  I  think  it  better  to  read: 
By  peace  we  will  begin.     JOHNSON. 

1  have  no  doubt  but  Johnson's  amendment  is  right.     The 
Soothsayer  says,  that  the  label  promised  to  Britain  "  peace  and 
plenty."     To  which  Cymbeline  replies:  "  We  will  begin  ivith 
peace,  to  fulfil  the  prophecy."     M.  MASON. 

2  Whom  heavens,  injustice,  (both  on  her,  and  hers,) 

Have  laid  most  heavy  hand.]  i.  e.  have  laid  most  heavy  hand 
on.  Thus  the  old  copy,  and  thus  Shakspeare  certainly  wrote, 
many  such  elliptical  expressions  being  found  in  his  works.  So, 
in  The  Rape  ofLucrece: 

"  Only  he  hath  an  eye  to  gaze  on  beauty, 

"  And  dotes  on  whom  he  looks  [o«],  'gainst  law  and 

duty." 
Again,  in  King  Richard  III: 

"  Men  shall  deal  unadvisedly  sometimes, 
"  Which  after  hours  give  leisure  to  repent  [of~\" 
Again,  in  The  Winter's  Tale: 


648  CYMBELINE.  ACT  v. 

SOOTH.  The  fingers  of  the  powers  above  do  tune 
The  harmony  of  this  peace.     The  vision 
Which  I  made  known  to  Lucius,  ere  the  stroke 
Of  this  yet  scarce-cold  battle,3  at  this  instant 
Is  full  accomplished :  For  the  Roman  eagle, 
From  south  to  west  on  wing  soaring  aloft, 
Lessened  herself,  and  in  the  beams  o'the  sun 
So  vanished :  which  foreshow'd  our  princely  eagle, 
The  imperial  Caesar,  should  again  unite 
His  favour  with  the  radiant  Cymbeline, 
Which  shines  here  in  the  west. 

CYM.  Laud  we  the  gods ; 

And  let  our  crooked  smokes  climb  to  their  nostrils 
From  our  bless'd  altars  !  Publish  wre  this  peace 
To  all  our  subjects.     Set  we  forward :  Let 
A  Roman  and  a  British  ensign  wave 
Friendly  together :  so  through  Lud's  town  march  ; 
And  in  the  temple  of  great  Jupiter 


even  as  bad  as  those, 


"  That  vulgars  give  boldest  titles  [to~]" 
Again,  ibidem  : 

The  queen  is  spotless 


"  In  that  which  you  accuse  her 
Again,  in  King  Henry  VIII: 

"  -  "whoever  the  king  removes, 

"  The  cardinal  instantly  will  find  employment  [ybr]." 
Again,  in  Othello: 

f<  What  conjurations  and  what  mighty  magick 

"  I  won  his  daughter  [with]" 
Mr.  Pope,  instead  of  the  lines  in  the  text,  substituted  — 

On  whom  heavens  justice  (both  on  her  and  hers) 

Hath  lay'd  most  heavy  hand. 

and  this  capricious  alteration  was  adopted  by  all  the  subsequent 
editors.     MALONE. 

1  -  this  yet  scarce-cold  battle,]     Old  copy  —  yet  this  &c. 
The  correction  was  made  by  Mr.  Rowe.     MALONE, 


sc.  v.  CYMBELINE.  649 

Our  peace  we'll  ratify ;  seal  it  with  feasts. — 
Set  on  there  : — Never  was  a  war  did  cease, 
Ere  bloody  hands  were  wash'd,  with  such  a  peace. 

[Exeunt.** 

4  This  play  has  many  just  sentiments,  some  natural  dialogues, 
and  some  pleasing  scenes,  but  they  are  obtained  at  the  expence 
of  much  incongruity.  To  remark  the  folly  of  the  fiction,  the  ab- 
surdity of  the  conduct,  the  confusion  of  the  names,  and  manners 
of  different  times,  and  the  impossibility  of  the  events  in  any 
system  of  life,  were  to  waste  criticism  upon  unresisting  imbe- 
cility, upon  faults  too  evident  for  detection,  and  too  gross  for 
aggravation.  JOHNSON. 


A  book  entitled  Westward  for  Smelts,  or  the  Waterman  s  Fare 
of  mad  Merry  Western  Wenches,  "whose  Tongues  albeit ,  like 
Sell-clappers,  they  never  leave  ringing,  yet  their  Tales  are  sweet, 
and  wilt  much  content  you:  Written  by  kinde  Kitt  of  Kingst one, 
— was  published  at  London  in  1603;  and  rgain,  in  1620.  To 
the  second  tale  in  that  volume  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  been 
indebted  for  two  or  three  of  the  circumstances  of  Cymbeline. 
{[See  p.  400.]  It  is  told  by  the  Fishwife  of  Strand  on  the  Green, 
and  is  as  follows : 

**  In  the  troublesome  raigne  of  king  Henry  the  Sixt,  there 
dwelt  in  Waltam  (not  farre  from  London)  a  gentleman,  which 
had  t%wife  a  creature  most  beautifull,  so  that  in  her  time  there 
were  few  found  that  matched  her,  none  at  all  that  excelled  her ; 
so  excellent  were  the  gifts  that  nature  had  bestowed  on  her.  In 
body  was  she  not  onely  so  rare  and  unparaleled,  but  also  in  her 
gifts  of  minde,  so  that  in  this  creature  it  seemed  that  Grace  and 
Nature  strove  who  should  excell  each  other  in  their  gifts  toward 
her.  The  gentleman,  her  husband,  thought  himselfe  so  happy 
in  his  choise,  that  he  believed,  in  choosing  her,  he  had  tooke 
holde  of  that  blessing  which  Heaven  proffereth  every  man  once 
in  his  life.  Long  did  not  this  opinion  hold  for  currant;  for  in 
his  height  of  love  he  began  so  to  hate  her,  that  he  sought  her 
death :  the  cause  I  will  tell  you. 

"  Having  businesse  one  day  to  London,  he  tooke  his  leave  very 
kindly  of  his  wife,  and,  accompanied  with  one  man,  he  rode  to 
London :  being  toward  night,  he  tooke  up  his  inne,  and  to  be 


650  CYMBELINE. 

briefe,  he  went  to  supper  amongst  other  gentlemen.  Amongst 
other  talke  at  table,  one  tookc  occasion  to  speake  of  women,  and 
what  excellent  creatures  they  were,  so  long  as  they  continued 
loyal  to  man.  To  whom  answered  one,  saying,  This  is  truth, 
sir ;  so  is  the  divell  good  so  long  as  he  doth  no  harme,  which  is 
meaner :  his  goodness  and  women's  loyaltie  will  come  both  in 
one  yeere ;  but  it  is  so  farre  off,  that  none  in  this  age  shall  live 
to  see  it. 

"  This  gentleman  loving  his  wife  dearely,  and  knowing  her  to 
be  free  from  this  uncivill  generall  taxation  of  women,  in  her  be- 
half, said,  Sir,  you  are  too  bitter  against  the  sexe  of  women, 
and  doe  ill,  for  some  one's  sake  that  hath  proved  false  to  you,  to 
taxe  the  generalitie  of  women-kinde  with  lightnesse ;  and  but  I 
would  not  be  counted  uncivill  amongst  these  gentlemen,  I  would 
give  you  the  reply  that  approved  untruth  deserveth : — you  know 
my  meaning,  sir ;  construe  my  words  as  you  please.  Excuse  me, 
gentlemen,  if  I  be  uncivil ;  I  answere  in  the  behalfe  of  one  who 
is  as  free  from  disloyaltie  as  is  the  sunne  from  darknes,  or  the 
fire  from  cold.  Pray,  sir,  said  the  other,  since  wee  are  opposite 
in  opinions,  let  us  rather  talke  like  lawyers,  that  wee  may  be 
quickly  friends  againe,  than  like  souldiers,  which  end  their  words 
with  blowes.  Perhaps  this  woman  that  you  answere  for,  is 
chaste,  but  yetagainst  her  will ;  for  many  women  arehonest,  'cause 
they  have  not  the  meanes  and  opportunitie  to  be  dishonest ;  so 
is  a  thief  true  in  prison,  because  he  hath  nothing  to  steale.  Had 
I  but  opportunitie  and  knew  this  same  saint  you  so  adore,  I  would 
pawne  my  life  and  whole  estate,  in  a  short  while  to  bring  you 
some  manifest  token  of  her  disloyaltie.  Sir,  you  are  yong  in  the 
knowledge  of  women's  slights ;  your  want  of  experience  makes 
you  too  credulous :  therefore  be  not  abused.  This  speech  of  his 
made  the  gentleman  more  out  of  patience  than  before,  so  that 
with  much  adoe  he  held  himselfe  from  offering  violence ;  but 
his  anger  being  a  little  over,  he  said, — Sir,  I  doe  verily  beleeve 
that  this  vaine  speech  of  yours  proceedeth  rather  from  a  loose 
and  ill-manner'd  minde,  than  of  any  experience  you  have  had  of 
women's  looseness :  and  since  you  think  yourselfe  so  cunning  in 
that  divelish  art  of  corrupting  women's  chastitie,  I  will  lay  down 
heere  a  hundred  pounds,  against  which  you  shall  lay  fifty  pounds, 
and  before  these  gentlemen  I  promise  you,  if  that  within  a 
month's  space  you  bring  me  any  token  of  this  gentlewoman's 
disloyaltie,  (for  whose  sake  I  have  spoken  in  the  behalfe  of  all 
women,)  I  doe  freely  give  you  leave  to  injoy  the  same;  condi- 
tionally, you  not  performing  it,  I  may  enjoy  your  money.  If 
that  it  be  a  match,  speake,  and  I  will  acquaint  you  where  she 
dwelleth :  and  besides  I  vow,  as  I  am  a  gentleman,  not  to  give 
her  notice  of  any  such  intent  that  is  toward  her.  Sir,  quoth  the 
man,  your  proffer  is  faire,  and  I  accept  the  same.  So  the  money 


CYMBELINE.  651 

was  delivered  in  the  oast  of  the  house  his  hands,  and  the  sitters 
by  were  witnesses ;  so  drinking  together  like  friends,  they  went 
every  man  to  his  chamber.  The  next  day  this  man,  having 
knowledge  of  the  place,  rid  thither,  leaving  the  gentleman  at 
the  inne,  who  being  assured  of  his  wife's  chastitie,  made  no  other 
account  but  to  winne  the  wager ;  but  it  fell  out  otherwise :  for 
the  other  vowed  either  by  force,  policie,  or  free  will,  to  get  some 
Jewell  or  other  toy  from  her,  which  was  enough  to  persuade  the 
gentleman  that  he  was  a  cuckold,  and  win  the  wager  he  had 
laid.  This  villaine  (for  he  deserved  no  better  stile)  lay  at  Waltam 
a  whole  day  before  he  came  at  the  sight  of  her ;  at  last  he  espied 
her  in  the  fields,  to  whom  he  went,  and  kissed  her  (a  thing  no 
modest  woman  can  deny);  after  his  salutation,  he  said,  Gentle- 
woman, I  pray,  pardon  me,  if  I  have  beene  too  bold:  I  was 
intreated  by  your  husband,  which  is  at  London,  (I  riding  this 
way)  to  come  and  see  you;  by  me  he  hath  sent  his  commends  to 
you,  with  a  kind  intreat  that  you  would  not  be  discontented  for 
his  long  absence,  it  being  serious  business  that  keepes  him  from 
your  sight.  The  gentlewoman  very  modestlie  bade  him  welcome, 
thanking  him  for  his  kindnes ;  withall  telling  him  that  her  hus- 
band might  command  her  patience  so  long  as  he  pleased.  Then 
intreated  shee  him  to  walke  homeward,  where  she  gave  him  such 
entertainment  as  was  fit  for  a  gentleman,  and  her  husband's  friend. 
"  In  the  time  of  his  abiding  at  her  house,  he  oft  would  have 
singled  her  in  private  talke,  but  she  perceiving  the  same,  ( know- 
ing it  to  be  a  thing  not  fitting  a  modest  woman,)  would  never 
come  to  his  sight  but  at  meales,  and  then  were  there  so  many  at 
boord,  that  it  was  no  time  for  to  talke  of  love-matters :  there- 
fore he  saw  he  must  accomplish  his  desire  some  other  way; 
which  he  did  in  this  manner.  He  having  laine  two  nights  at  her 
house,  and  perceiving  her  to  be  free  from  lustful  desires,  the 
third  night  he  fained  himself  to  bee  something  ill,  and  so  went  to 
bed  timelier  than  he  was  wont.  When  he  was  alone  in  his 
chamber,  he  began  to  thinke  with  himselfe  that  it  was  now  time 
to  do  that  which  he  determined :  for  if  he  tarried  any  longer, 
they  might  have  cause  to  think  that  he  came  for  some  ill  intent, 
and  waited  opportunity  to  execute  the  same.  With  this  resolu- 
tion he  went  to  her  chamber,  which  was  but  a  paire  of  staires 
from  his,  and  finding  the  doore  open,  he  went  in,  placing  him- 
self under  the  bed.  Long  had  he  not  lyne  there,  but  in  came  the 
gentlewoman  with  her  maiden;  who,  having  been  at  prayers 
with  her  houshold,  was  going  to  bed.  She  preparing  herself  to 
bedward,  laid  her  head-tyre  and  those  jewels  she  wore,  on  a 
little  table  thereby :  at  length  he  perceived  her  to  put  off  a 
little  crucifix  of  gold,  which  daily  she  wore  next  to  her  heart ; 
this  Jewell  he  thought  fittest  for  his  turne,  and  therefore  observed 
where  she  did  lay  the  same. 


652  CYMBELINE. 

"  At  length  the  gentlewoman,  being  untyred  her  selfe,  went 
to  bed ;  her  maid  then  bolting  of  the  doore,  took  the  candle,  and 
went  to  bed  in  a  withdrawing  roome,  onely  separated  with  arras. 
This  villaine  lay  still  under  the  bed,  listening  if  hee  could  heare 
that  the  gentlewoman  slept:  at  length  he  might  hear  her  draw  her 
breath  long ;  then  thought  he  all  sure,  and  like  a  cunning  vil- 
laine rose  without  noise,  going  straight  to  the  table,  where  find- 
ing of  the  crucifix,  he  lightly  went  to  the  doore,  which  he  cun- 
ningly unbolted :  all  this  performed  he  with  so  little  noise,  that 
neither  the  mistress  nor  the  maid  heard  him.  Having  gotten 
into  his  chamber,  he  wished  for  day  that  he  might  carry  this 
Jewell  to  her  husband,  as  signe  of  his  wife's  disloyaltie ;  but  see- 
ing his  wishes  but  in  vaine,  he  laid  him  downe  to  sleepe :  happy 
had  she  beene,  had  his  bed  proved  his  grave. 

"  In  the  morning  so  soon  as  the  folkes  were  stirring,  he  rose 
and  went  to  the  horse-keeper,  praying  him  to  helpe  him  to  his 
horse,  telling  him  that  he  had  tooke  his  leave  of  his  mistris  the 
last  night.  Mounting  his  horse,  away  rode  he  to  London,  leaving 
the  gentlewoman  in  bed;  who,  when  she  rose,  attiring  herself 
hastily,  ('cause  one  tarried  to  speak  with  her,)  missed  not  her 
crucifix.  So,  passed  she  the  time  away,  as  she  was  wont  other 
dayes  to  doe,  no  whit  troubled  in  mimic,  though  much  sorrow 
was  toward  her ;  onely  she  seemed  a  little  discontented  that  her 
ghest  went  away  so  unmannerly,  she  using  him  so  kindely.  So 
leaving  her,  I  will  speake  of  him,  who  the  next  morning  was  be- 
times at  London ;  and  coming  to  the  inne,  he  asked  for  the  gen- 
tleman who  was  then  in  bed,  but  he  quickly  came  downe  to 
him;  who  seeing  him  returned  so  suddenly,  hee  thought  hee 
came  to  have  leave  to  release  himselfe  of  his  wager ;  but  this 
chanced  otherwise,  for  having  saluted  him,  he  said  in  this  man- 
ner : — Sir,  did  not  I  tell  you  that  you  were  too  young  in  ex- 
perience of  woman's  subtilties,  and  that  no  woman  was  longer 
good  than  till  she  had  cause,  or  time  to  do  ill  ?  This  you  be- 
lieved not ;  and  thought  it  a  thing  so  unlikely,  that  you  have 
fiven  me  a  hundred  pounds  for  the  knowledge  of  it.  In  brief, 
now,  your  wife  is  a  woman,  and  therefore  a  wanton,  a  change- 
ling : — to  confirm  that  I  speake,  see  heere  (shewing  him  the  cru- 
cifix;) know  you  this?  If  this  be  not  sufficient  proofe,  I  will 
fetch  you  more. 

"  At  the,  sight  of  this,  his  bloud  left  his  face,  running  to  com- 
fort his  faint  heart,  which  was  ready  to  breake  at  the  sight  of 
this  crucifix,  which  he  knew  she  alwayes  wore  next  her  heart ; 
and  therefore  he  must  (as  he  thought)  goe  something  neere, 
which  stole  so  private  a  Jewell.  But  remembering  himselfe,  he 
cheeres  his  spirits,  seeing  that  was  sufficient  proofe,  and  he  had 
wonne  the  wager,  which  he  commanded  should  be  given  to  him. 


CYMBELINE.  653 

Thus  was  the  poore  gentleman  abused,  who  went  into  his  cham- 
ber and  being  weary  of  this  world,  (seeing  where  he  had  put  his 
only  trust  he  was  deceived,)  he  was  minded  to  fall  upon  his 
sword,  and  so  end  all  his  miseries  at  once :  but  his  better  genius 
persuaded  him  contrary,  and  not  so,  by  laying  violent  hand  on 
himselfe,  to  leap  into  the  divel's  mouth.     Thus  being  in  many 
mindes,  but  resolving  no  one  thing,  at  last  he  concluded  to 
punish  her  with  death,  which  had  deceived  his  trust,  and  him- 
selfe utterly  to  forsake  his  house  and  lands,  and  follow  the  for- 
tunes of  king  Henry.     To  this  intent,  he  called  his  man,  to 
whom  he  said, — George,  thou  knowest  I  have  ever  held  thee 
deare,  making  more  account  of  thee  than  thy  other  fellowes  ; 
and  thou  hast  often  told  me  that  thou  diddest  owe  thy  life  to  me, 
which  at  any  time  thou  wouldest  be  ready  to  render  up  to  doe 
me  good.     True,  sir,  answered  his  man,  I  said  no  more  then, 
than  I  will  now  at  any  time,  whensoever  you  please,  performe. 
I  believe  thee,  George,  replyed  he ;  but  there  is  no  such  need : 
I  onely  would  have  thee  do  a  thing  for  me,  in  which  is  no  great 
danger ;   yet  the  profit  which  thou  shalt  have   thereby  shall 
amount  to  my  wealth.     For  the  love  that  thou  bearest  to  me, 
and  for  thy  own  good,  wilt  thou  do  this  ?  Sir,  answered  George, 
more  for  your  love  than  any  reward,  I  will  doe  it,  (and  yet 
money  makes  men  valiant, )  pray  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  George, 
said  his  master,  this  it  is ;  thou  must  goe  home,  praying  thy  mis- 
tress to  meet  me  halfe  the  way  to  London ;  but  having  her  by 
the  way,  in  some  private  place  kill  her  :  I  mean  as  I  speake,  kill 
her,  I  say  ;  this  is  my  command,  which  thou  hast  promised  to 
performe ;  which  if  thou  performest  not,  I  vow  to  kill  thee  the 
next  time  thou  comest  in  my  sight.     Now  for  thy  reward,  it 
shall  be  this:— Take  my  ring,  and  when  thou  hast  done  my 
command,  by  virtue  of  it,  doe  thou  assume  my  place  till  my  re- 
turne,  at  which  time  thou  shalt  know  what  my  reward  is ;  till 
then  govern  my  whole  estate,  and  for  thy  mistress'  absence  and 
my  own,  make  what  excuse  thou  please ;  so  be  gone.   Well,  sir, 
said  George,  since  it  is  your  will,  though  unwilling  I  am  to  do  it, 
yet  I  will  perform  it.     So  went  he  his  way  toward  Waltam ;  and 
his  master  presently  rid  to  the  court,  where  hee  abode  with  king 
Henry,  who  a  little  before  was  inlarged  by  the  earl  of  Warwicke, 
and  placed  in  the  throne  again. 

"  George  being  come  to  Waltam,  did  his  duty  to  his  mistris, 
who  wondered  to  see  him,  and  not  her  husband,  for  whom  she 
demanded  of  George  ;  he  answered  her,  that  he  was  at  Enfield, 
and  did  request  her  to  meet  him  there.  To  which  shee  willingly 
agreed,  and  presently  rode  with  him  toward  Enfield.  At  length, 
they  being  come  into  a  by-way,  George  began  to  speake  to  her 
in  this  manner :  Mistris,  I  pray  you  tell  me,  what  that  wife  de- 


654.  CYMBELINE. 

serves,  who  through  some  lewd  behaviour  of  hers  hath  made  her 
husband  to  neglect  his  estates,  and  meanes  of  life,  seeking  by  all 
meanes  to  dye,  that  he  might  be  free  from  the  shame  which  her 
wickednesse  hath  purchased  him  ?  Why  George,  quoth  shee,  hast 
thou  met  with  some  such  creature  ?  Be  it  whomsoever,  might  I 
be  her  judge,  I  thinke  her  worthy  of  death.  How  thinkest 
thou?  'Faith  mistris,  said  he,  I  think  so  to,  and  am  so  fully  per* 
suaded  that  her  offence  deserves  that  punishment,  that  I  pur- 
pose to  be  executioner  to  such  a  one  myselfe :  Mistris,  you  are 
this  woman;  you  have  so  offended  my  master,  (you  know  best, 
how,  yourselfe,)  that  he  hath  left  his  house,  vowing  never  to 
see  the  same  till  you  be  dead,  and  I  am  the  man  appointed  by 
him  to  kill  you.  Therefore  those  words  which  you  mean  to 
utter,  speake  them  presently,  for  I  cannot  stay.  Poor  gentle- 
woman, at  the  report  of  these  unkinde  words  ( ill  deserved  at  her 
hands)  she  looked  as  one  dead,  and  uttering  abound ance  of 
tears,  she  at  last  spake  these  words:  And  can  it  be,  that  my 
kindness  and  loving  obedience  hath  merited  no  other  reward  at 
his  hands  than  death  ?  It  cannot  be.  I  know  thou  only  tryest  me, 
how  patiently  I  would  endure  such  an  unjust  command.  I'le 
tell  thee  heere,  thus  with  body  prostrate  on  the  earth,  and  hands 
lift  up  to  heaven,  I  would  pray  for  his  preservation ;  those  should 
be  my  worst  words :  for  death's  fearful  visage  shewes  pleasant  to 
that  soule  that  is  innocent.  Why  then  prepare  youreelfe,  said 
George,  for  by  heaven  I  doe  not  jest.  With  that  she  prayed  him 
stay,  saying, — And  is  it  so  ?  Then  what  should  I  desire  to  live, 
having  lost  his  favour  (and  without  offence)  whom  I  so  dearly 
loved,  and  in  whose  sight  my  happinesse  did  consist  ?  Come,  let 
me  die.  Yet  George,  let  me  have  so  much  favour  at  thy  hands, 
as  to  commend  me  in  these  few  words  to  him :  Tell  him,  my 
death  I  willingly  imbrace,  for  I  have  owed  him  my  life  (yet  no 
otherwise  but  by  a  wife's  obedience)  ever  since  I  called  him  hus- 
band ;  but  that  I  am  guilty  of  the  least  fault  toward  him,  I  ut- 
terly deny  ;  and  doe,  at  this  hour  of  my  death,  desire  that  Hea- 
ven would  pour  down  vengeance  upon  me,  if  ever  I  offended  him 
in  thought.  Intreat  him  that  he  would  not  speake  aught  that 
were  ill  on  mee,  when  I  am  dead,  for  in  good  troth  I  have  de- 
served none.  'Pray  Heaven  blesse  him;  I  am  prepared  now, 
strike  pr*ythee  home,  and  kill  me  and  my  griefes  at  once. 

"  George,  seeing  this,  could  not  with-hold  himselfe  from  shed- 
ding teares,  and  with  pitie  he  let  fall  his  sword,  saying, — Mistris, 
that  I  have  used  you  so  roughly,  pray  pardon  me,  for  I  was  com- 
manded so  by  my  master,  who  hath  vowed,  if  I  let  you  live,  to 
kill  me.  But  I  being  perswaded  that  you  are  innocent,  I  will 
rather  undergoe  the  danger  of  his  wrath  than  to  staine  my  hands 
with  the  bloud  of  your  cleere  and  spotlesse  brest :  yet  let  me  in- 


CYMBELINE.  655 

treat  you  so  much,that  you  would  not  come  inhissight,  lest  in  his 
rage  he  turne  your  butcher,  but  live  in  some  disguise,  till  time 
have  opened  the  cause  of  his  mistrust,  and  shewed  you  guiltless; 
which,  I  hope,  will  not  be  long. 

"  To  this  she  willingly  granted,  being  loth  to  die  causelesse, 
and  thanked  him  for  his  kindnesse ;  so  parted  they  both,  having 
teares  in  their  eyes.  George  went  home,  where  he  shewed  his 
master's  ring,  for  the  government  of  the  house  till  his  master  and 
mistris  returne,  which  he  said  lived  a  while  at  London,  'cause 
the  time  was  so  troublesome,  and  that  was  a  place  where  they 
were  more  secure  than  in  the  country.  This  his  fellowes  believed, 
and  were  obedient  to  his  will ;  amongst  whom  he  used  himselfe 
so  kindely  that  he  had  all  their  loves.  This  poore  gentlewoman 
(mistris  of  the  house)  in  short  time  got  man's  apparell  for  her 
disguise  ;  so  wandered  she  up  and  downe  the  countrey,  for  she 
could  get  no  service,  because  the  time  was  so  dangerous  that  no 
man  knew  whom  he  might  trust:  onely  she  maintained  herselfe 
with  the  price  of  those  jewels  which  she  had,  all  which  she  sold. 
At  the  last,  being  quite  out  of  money,  and  having  nothing  left 
(which  she  could  well  spare)  to  make  money  of,  she  resolved 
rather  to  starve  than  so  much  to  debase  herselfe  to  become  a  beg- 
gar. With  this  resolution  she  went  to  a  solitary  place  beside 
Yorke,  where  she  lived  the  space  of  two  dayes  on  hearbs,  and 
such  things  as  she  could  there  finde. 

"  In  this  time  it  chanced  that  king  Edward,  being  come  out 
of  France,  and  lying  thereabout  with  the  small  forces  hee  had, 
came  that  way  with  some  two  or  three  noblemen,  with  an  intent 
to  discover  if  any  ambushes  were  laid  to  take  them  at  an  advan- 
tage. He  seeing  there  this  gentlewoman,  whom  he  supposed  to 
be  a  boy,  asked  her  what  she  was,  and  what  she  made  there  in 
that  private  place?  To  whom  shee  very  wisely  and  modestly 
withall,  answered,  that  she  was  a  poore  boy,  whose  bringing  up 
had  bin  better  than  her  outward  parts  then  shewed,  but  at  that 
time  she  was  both  friendlesse  and  comfortlesse,  by  reason  of  the 
late  warre.  He  beeing  moved  to  see  one  so  well  featured  as  she 
was,  to  want,  entertained  her  for  one  of  his  pages :  to  whom  she 
shewed  herself  so  dutifull  and  loving,  that  in  short  time  she  had 
his  love  above  all  her  fellows.  Still  followed  she  the  fortunes  of 
K.  Edward,  hoping  at  last  (as  not  long  after  it  did  fall  out)  to 
be  reconciled  to  her  husband. 

"  After  the  battell  at  Barnet,  where  K.  Edward  got  the  best, 
she  going  up  and  downe  amongst  the  slaine  men,  to  know  whe- 
ther her  husband,  which  was  on  K.  Henrie's  side,  was  dead  or 
escaped,  happened  to  see  the  other  who  had  been  her  ghest, 
lying  there  for  dead.  She  remembring  him,  and  thinking  him 
to  be  one  whom  her  husband  loved,  went  to  him,  and  finding 


656  CYMBELINE. 

him  not  dead,  she  caused  one  to  helpe  her  with  him  to  a  house 
there-by ;  where  opening  his  brest  to  dresse  his  wounds,  she 
espied  her  crucifix,  at  sight  of  which  her  heart  was  joyfull, 
hoping  by  this  to  find  him  that  was  the  origi  nail  of  her  disgrace: 
for  she  remembring  herselfe,  found  that  she  had  lost  that  cru- 
cifix ever  since  that  morning  he  departed  from  her  house  so  sud- 
denly. But  saying  nothing  of  it  at  that  time,  she  caused  him  to  be 
carefully  looked  unto,  and  brought  up  to  London  after  her, 
whither  she  went  with  the  king,  carrying  the  crucifix  with  her. 

"  On  a  time,  when  he  was  a  little  recovered,  she  went  to  him, 
giving  him  the  crucifix  which  she  had  taken  from  about  his 
necke  ;  to  whom  he  said,  *  Good  gentle  youth,  keep  the  same ; 
for  now  in  my  misery  of  sicknes,  when  the  sight  of  that  picture 
should  be  most  comfortable,  it  is  to  me  most  uncomfortable ; 
and  breedeth  such  horrour  in  my  conscience,  when  I  think  how 
wrongfully  I  got  the  same,  that  long  as  I  see  it  I  shall  never  be 
at  rest.'  Now  knew  she  that  he  was  the  man  that  caused  the 
separation  'twixt  her  husband  and  her  selfe;  yet  said  she  no- 
thing, using  him  as  respectively  as  she  had  before:  onely  she 
caused  the  man  in  whose  house  he  lay,  to  remember  the  words 
he  had  spoken  concerning  the  crucifix.  Not  long  after,  she 
being  alone,  attending  on  the  king,  beseeched  his  grace  to  do 
her  justice  on  a  villain  that  had  bin  the  cause  of  all  the  misery 
she  had  suffered.  He  loving  her  above  all  his  other  pages,  most 
dearly,  said,  '  Edmund  ( for  so  had  she  named  herself, )  thou  shalt 
have  what  right  thou  wilt  on  thy  enemy;  cause  him  to  be  sent 
for,  and  I  will  be  thy  judge  my  selfe.'  She  being  glad  of  this, 
with  the  king's  authority  sent  for  her  husband,  whom  she  heard 
was  one  of  the  prisoners  that  was  taken  at  the  battel  of  Barnet ; 
she  appointing  the  other,  now  recovered,  to  be  at  the  court 
at  the  same  time.  They  being  both  come,  but  not  one 
seeing  of  the  other,  the  king  sent  for  the  wounded  man  into 
the  presence  ;  before  whom  the  page  asked  him  how  he  came  by 
the  crucifix.  He  fearing  that  his  villainy  would  come  forth,  de- 
nyed  the  words  he  had  said  before  his  oast,  affirming  he  bought 
it.  With  that,  she  called  in  the  oast  of  the  house  where  he  lay, 
bidding  him  boldly  speake  what  he  had  heard  this  man  say  con- 
cerning the  crucifix.  The  oast  then  told  the  king,  that  in  the 
presence  of  this  page  he  heard  him  intreat  that  the  crucifix 
might  be  taken  from  his  sight,  for  it  did  wound  his  conscience, 
to  thinke  how  wrongfully  he  had  gotten  the  same.  These  words 
did  the  page  averre  ;  yet  he  utterly  denyed  the  same,  affirming 
that  he  bought  it,  and  if  that  he  did  speake  such  words  in  his 
sicknesse,  they  proceeded  from  the  lightncsse  of  his  braine,  and 
were  untruthes. 

"She  seeing  this  villain's  impudency,  sent  for  her  husband  in, 


CYMBELINE.  657 

to  whom  she  shewed  the  crucifix,  saying,  Sir,  do  you  know  this? 
Yes,  answered  hee,  but  would  God  I  ne're  had  known  the  owner 
of  it!  It  was  my  wife's,  a  woman  virtuous  till  the  divell  (speak- 
ing to  the  other)  did  corrupt  her  purity, — who  brought  me  this 
crucifix  as  a  token  of  her  inconstancie. 

"  With  that  the  king  said,  Sirra,  now  are  you  found  to  be  a 
knave.  Did  you  not,  even  now,  affirme  you  bought  it?  To 
whom  he  answered  with  fearfull  countenance,  And  it  like  your 
grace,  I  said  so  to  preserve  this  gentleman's  honour,  and  his 
wife's,  which  by  my  telling  of  the  truth  would  have  been  much 
indamaged ;  for  indeed  she,  being  a  secret  friend  of  mine,  gave 
me  this  as  a  testimony  of  her  love. 

"  The  gentlewoman,  not  being  able  longer  to  cover  her  selfe 
in  that  disguise,  said,  «  And  it  like  your  majesty,  give  mee  leave 
to  speake,  and  you  shall  see  me  make  this  villain  confesse  how 
he  hath  abused  that  good  gentleman.'  The  king  having  given 
her  leave,  she  said,  '  First,  sir,  you  confessed  before  your  oast  and 
my  selfe,  that  you  had  wrongfully  got  this  Jewell ;  then  before 
his  majestie  you  affirmed  you  bought  it ;  so  denying  your  former 
words :  Now  you  have  denyed  that  which  you  so  boldly  affirmed 
before,  and  said  it  was  this  gentleman's  wife's  gift.  With  his 
majestie's  leave  I  say,  thou  art  a  villaine,  and  this  is  likewise 
false.'  With  that  she  discovered  herselfe  to  be  a  woman,  saying 
— *  Hadst  thou,  villaine,  ever  any  strumpet's  favour  at  my 
hands  ?  Did  I,  for  any  sinfull  pleasure  I  received  from  thee,  be- 
stow this  on  thee  ?  Speake,  and  if  thou  have  any  goodness  left 
in  thee,  speak  the  truth.' 

'*  With  that,  he  being  daunted  at  her  sudden  sight,  fell  on  his 
knees  before  the  king,  beseeching  his  grace  to  be  mercifull  unto 
him  for  he  had  wronged  that  gentlewoman.  Therewith  told  he 
the  king  of  the  match  betweene  the  gentleman  and  him  selfe, 
and  how  he  stole  the  crucifix  from  her,  and  by  that  meanes  per- 
suaded her  husband  that  she  was  a  whore.  The  king  wondered 
how  he  durst,  knowing  God  to  be  just,  commit  so  great  avillainy; 
but  much  more  admired  he  to  see  his  page  turn  a  gentlewoman. 
But  ceasing  to  admire,  he  said — '  Sir,  (speaking to  her  husband,) 
you  did  the  part  of  an  unwise  man  to  lay  so  foolish  a  wager,  for 
which  offence  the  remembrance  of  your  folly  is  punishment 
inough  ;  but  seeing  it  concerns  me  not,  your  wife  shall  be  your 
judge.'  With  that  Mrs.  Dorrill,  thanking  his  majestie,  went  to 
her  husband,  saying,  *  Sir,  all  my  anger  to  you  I  lay  down  with 
this  kisse.'  He  wondering  all  this  while  to  see  this  strange  and 
unlooked-for  change,  wept  for  joy,  desiring  her  to  tell  him  how 
she  was  preserved ;  wherein  she  satisfied  him  at  full.  The  king 
was  likewise  glad  that  he  had  preserved  this  gentlewoman  from 
wilfull  famine,  and  gave  judgment  on  the  other  in  this  manner : 
VOL.  XVIII.  2  U 


658  CYMBELINE. 

— That  he  should  restore  the  money  treble  which  he  had  wrong- 
fully got  from  him  ;  and  so  was  to  have  a  yeere's  imprisonment. 
So  this  gentleman  and  his  wife  went,  with  the  king's  leave,  lov- 
ingly home,  where  they  were  kindely  welcomed  by  George,  to 
whom  for  recompence  he  gave  the  money  which  he  received: 
so  lived  they  ever  after  in  great  content."  MALONE. 


See  page  582,  note  8. 

A  SONG, 

SUNG   BY   GUIDERIUS   AND    ARVIRAGUS    OVER   FIDELE, 
SUPPOSED    TO    BE    DEAD. 

BY  MR.  WILLIAM  COLLINS. 

To  fair  Fidele's  grassy  tomb, 

Soft  maids  and  village  hinds  shall  bring 
Each  opening  sweety  of  earliest  bloom, 

And  rifle  all  the  breathing  spring. 

No  'wailing  ghost  shall  dare  appear 
To  vex  with  shrieks  this  quiet  grove; 

But  shepherd  lads  assemble  here, 
And  melting  virgins  own  their  love. 

No  withered  witch  shall  here  be  seen, 
No  goblins  lead  their  nightly  crew : 

The  female  fays  shall  haunt  the  green, 
And  dress  thy  grave  with  pearly  dew. 

The  red-breast  oft  at  evening  hours 
Shall  kindly  lend  his  little  aid, 

With  hoary  moss,  and  gathered Jlowers, 
To  deck  the  ground  where  thou  art  laid. 


CYMBELINE.  659 

When  howling  winds,  and  beating  rain, 

In  tempests  shake  the  sylvan  cell; 
Or  midst  the  chace  on  every  plain, 

The  tender  thought  on  thee  shall  dwell. 

f 

Each  lonely  scene  shall  thee  restore ; 

For  thee  the  tear  be  duly  shed : 
Belov'd,  till  life  could  charm  no  more; 

And  mourn' d  till  pity's  self  be  dead. 


END    OF    VOL.  XVIII. 


Printed  by  S.  Hamilton,  Weybridge. 


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