And with❜t no lefs nobility of love, (5)
Than that which dearest father bears his fon,
Do I impart tow'rd you. For your intent (6)
In going back to fchool to Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our defire:

And we beseech you, bend you to remain.
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, coufin, and our fon.
Queen. Let not thy mother lofe her prayers, Hamlet:
I pr'ythee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I fhall in all my beft obey you, Madam.
King. Why, 'tis a loving, and a fair reply;
Be as our felf in Denmark. Madam, come;
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits fmiling to my heart, in grace whereof
No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to day,
But the great Cannon to the clouds fhall tell;
And the King's rowse the heav'n fhall bruit again,
Re-fpeaking earthly thunder. Come, away.

Manet Hamlet.

[Exeunt.

Ham. Oh, that this too-too-folid flesh would melt, Thaw, and refolve it felf into a dew!

(5) And with no lefs Nobility of Love,

Than that which dearest Father bears his Son,

Do I impart towards you.] But what does the King impart? We want the Subftantive govern'd of the Verb. The King had declar'd Hamlet his immediate Succeffor; and with That Declaration, he muft mean, he imparts to him as noble a Love, as ever fond Father tender'd to his own Son. I have ventur'd to make the Text conform with this Senfe.

(6)

For your Intent

In going back to School to Wittenberg; ] The Poet ufes a Prolepfis here for the Univerfity at Wittemberg was open'd by Frederick the 3d Elector of Saxony in the Year 1502, feveral Ages later in Time than the Date of Hamlet, But I defign'd this Remark for another purpose. I would take Notice, that a confiderable Space of Years is fpent in this Tragedy; or Hamlet, as a Prince, fhould be too old to go to an Univerfity. We here find him a Scholar refident at that University; but, in Act 5th, we find him plainly 30 Years old: for the Gravedigger had taken up that Occupation the very day on which young Hamlet was born, and had follow'd it, as he fays, Thirty Years.

Or

Or that the Everlasting had not fixt (7)

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

That grows to feed; things rank, and grofs in nature,
Poffefs it meerly. That it fhould come to this!
But two months dead! nay, not fo much; not two,-
So excellent a King, that was, to this,

Hyperion to a Satyr: fo loving to my mother, (8)
That he would not let e'en the winds of heav'n

(7) Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

Vifit

His Cannon 'gainst Self-Slaughter!] The Generality of the Editions. read thus, as if the Poet's Thought were, Or that the Almighty had not planted his Artillery, his Refentment, or Arms of Vengeance against SelfMurther. But the Word, which I have reftor'd to the Text, (and which was efpous'd by the accurate Mr. Hughes, who gave an Edition of this Play;) is the Poet's true Reading. i. e. That he had not reftrain'd Suicide by his exprefs Law, and peremptory Prohibition. Mistakes are perpetually made in the Old Editions of our Poet, betwixt those two Words, Cannon and Canon. I fhall now fubjoin my Reasons, why, I think, the Poet intended to fay, Heaven had fix'd its Injunction rather than its Artillery. In the firft place, I much doubt the Propriety of the Phrafe, fixing Cannon, in the Meaning here fuppos'd. The military Expreffion, which imports what would be neceffary to the Sense of the Poet's Thought, is mounting or planting Cannon: And whenever Cannon is faid to be fix'd, it is when the Enemy become Masters of it and nail it down. place to fix a Canon, or Law, is the Term of the Civilians peculiar to this Bufinefs. This Virgil had in his Mind, when he wrote,

Leges fixit pretio, atq; refixit.

In the next

Æneid. VI.

So Cicero' in his Philippic Orations: Num figentur rurfus he Tabulæ, quas vos Decretis veftris refixiftis? And it was the conftant Custom of the Romans to fay, upon this Occafion, figere legem; as the Greeks, before them, ufed the Synonymous Term vooν Tаρaπñα, and call'd their Statutes thence açarnyara. But my laft Reason, and which fways moft with me, is from the Poet's own Turn and Caft of Thought. For, as he has done in a great many more Instances, it is the very Sentiment which he falls into in another of his Plays, tho' he has cloth'd it in different Expreffions.

That he permitted not the Winds of Heav'n

Cymbeline.

Vifit her Face too roughly.] This is a fophifticated Reading, copied

from

Vifit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth!

Muft I remember?

why, fhe would hang on him,

As if Increase of Appetite had grown

By what it fed on; yet, within a month,

Let me not think-Frailty, thy name is Woman! (9) A little month! or ere thofe fhooes were old,

With which she follow'd my poor father's body,

my father,

Like Niobe, all tears Why fhe, ev'n fhe,
(O heav'n! a beaft, that wants difcourfe of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer-) married with mine uncle,
My father's brother; but no more like
Than I to Hercules. Within a month!
Ere yet the falt of moft unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes,
She married.- Oh, moft wicked speed, to poft
With fuch dexterity to inceftuous sheets!

It is not, nor it cannot come to Good:

from the Players in fome of the modern Editions, for Want of understanding the Poet, whofe Text is corrupt in the Old Impreffions: All of which that I have had the Fortune to fee, concur in reading;

So loving to my Mother,

That he might not beteene the Winds of Heav'n
Vifit her Face too roughly.

Beteene is a Corruption, without Doubt, but not fo inveterate a one, but that, by the Change of a fingle Letter, and the Separation of two Words mistakenly jumbled together, I am verily perfwaded, I have retriev'd the Poet's Reading. That he might not let e'en the Winds of Heav'n,

&c.

(9) Frailty, thy Name is Woman!] But that it would difplease Mr. Pope to have it fuppos'd, that Satire can have any place in Tragedy, (of which I shall have Occafion to speak farther anon,) I should make no Scruple to pronounce this Reflection a fine Laconic Sarcasm. It is as concife in the Terms, and, perhaps, more fprightly in the Thought and Image, than that Fling of Virgil upon the Sex, in his fourth Eneid.

Femina.

varium & mutabile fempèr

'Tis

Mr. Dryden has remark'd, that this is the fharpeft Satire in the fewest Words, that ever was made on Womankind; for both the Adjectives are Neuter, and Animal must be understood to make them Grammar. certain, the defign'd Contempt is heighten'd by this Change of the Gender: but, I prefume, Mr. Dryden had forgot this Paffage of Shakespeare, when he declar'd on the Side of Virgil's Hemiftich, as the sharpeft Satire he had met with.

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

Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus.

Hor. Hail to your lordship!

Ham. I am glad to fee you well';

Horatio, or I do forget my felf?

Hor. The fame, my lord, and your poor fervant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
Marcellus!

Mar. My good lord

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

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

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the funeral bak'd meats
Did coldly furnifh forth the marriage tables.

Would, I had met my deareft foe in heav'n,

Or ever I had feen that day, Horatio!

My father methinks, I fee my father.
Hor. Oh where, my lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor. I faw him once, he was a goodly King.

Ham. He was a man, take him from all in all,.

I fhall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think, I faw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My lord, the King your father.

Ham. The King my father!

Hor. Seafon your admiration but a while,

With an attentive ear; 'till I deliver

Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encountred: A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap-à-pe,

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

Within his truncheon's length; whilft they (diftill'd
Almost to jelly with the act of fear)

Stand dumb, and speak not to him.
In dreadful fecrecy impart they did,

This to me

And I with them the third night kept the watch;
Where, as they had deliver'd both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The Apparition comes. I knew your father:

Thefe hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

Mar. My lord, upon the Platform where we watcht, Ham. Did you not fpeak to it?

Hor. My lord, I did;

But anfwer made it none; yet once, methought,

It lifted up its head, and did addrefs

It self to motion, like as it would speak:

But even then the morning cock crew loud;

And at the found it fhrunk in hafte away,
And vanifht from our fight.

Ham. 'Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to night?

?

Both. We do, my lord.
Ham. Arm'd, fay you
Both. Arm'd, my lord.

Ham.