That beetles o'er his Bafe into the fea;

And there affume fome other horrible form,
Which might deprive your fov'reignty of reason,
And draw you into madness? think of it.
The very place puts toys of defperation,
Without more motive, into ev'ry brain,
That looks fo many fadoms to the fea;
And hears it roar beneath.

Ham. It waves me ftill: go on, I'll follow thee-
Mar. You fhall not go, my lord.

Ham. Hold off your hands.

Mar. 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:

Still am I call'd: unhand me, gentlemen

[Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a Ghost of him that lets me -go on I'll follow thee

Lfay, away

[Exe. Ghoft and Hamlet.

Hor. He waxes defp'rate with imagination.

Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.
Hor. Have after.-To what iffue will this come?

Mar. Something is rotten in the State of Denmark,
Hor. Heav'n will direct it.

Mar. Nay, let's follow him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a more remote Part of the

Platform.

Re-enter Ghoft and Hamlet.

Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? fpeak; I'll go no

Gboft. Mark me.

Ham. I will.

Ghost. My hour is almoft come,

When I to fulphurous and tormenting flames

Muft render up my self.

Ham. Alas, poor Ghost!

[further,

Ghoft. Pity me not, but lend thy ferious hearing

To what I fhall unfold,

Ham:

Ham. Speak, I am bound to hear.

Ghoft. So art thou to revenge, when thou fhalt 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; (18)
'Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the fecrets of my prifon-house,

I could a tale unfold, whofe lightest word
Would harrow up thy foul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like ftars, ftart from their spheres
Thy knotty and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to ftand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine :
But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood; lift, lift, oh lift!
If thou didst ever thy dear father love

Ham. Oh heav'n!

Ghoft. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther.

Ham. Murther?

Ghost. Murther most foul, as in the best it is;

But this most foul, ftrange, and unnatural.

Ham. Hafte me to know it, that I, with wings as fwif As meditation or the thoughts of love,

May fweep to my revenge.

Ghost. I find thee apt;

And duiler fhouldft thou be, than the fat weed

18 And, for the Day, confin'd to faft in Fires ;] I once fufpected this Expreffion- to faft in Fires: because tho' Fafting is often a Part of Penance injoin'd us by the Church-Difcipline here on Earth, yet, I conceiv'd, it could be no great Punishment for a Spirit, a Being which requires no Suftenance, to faft, But Mr. Warburton has fince perfectly convinced me that the Text is not to be disturb'd, but that the Expreffion is purely metaphorical. For it is the Opinion of the Religion here reprefented, (i. e. the Roman Catholic) that Fafting purifies the Soul here, as the Fire does in the Purgatory here alluded to: and that the Soul must be purged either by fafting here, or by burning hereafter. This Opinion Shakespeare again hints at, where he makes Hamlet fay;

He took my Father grosfly, full of Bread.

And we are to obferve, that it is a common saying of the Romish Priests to their People, If you won't faft here, you must faft in Fire.

That roots it felf in eafe on Lethe's wharf,

Wouldst thou not ftir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
'Tis given out, that fleeping in my orchard,

A ferpent ftung me. So, the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged procefs of my death

Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble Youth,
The ferpent, that did fting thy father's life,
Now wears his Crown,

Ham. Oh, my prophetick foul! my uncle?

Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beaft,
With witchcraft of his wit, with trait'rous gifts,
(Oh wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power
So to feduce!) won to his fhameful luft
The will of my moft feeming-virtuous Queen.
Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there!
From me, whofe love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand ev'n with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch, whofe natural gifts were poor
To thofe of mine!

But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,

Though lewdness court it in a fhape of heav'n;
So luft, though to a radiant angel link'd,
Will fate it felf in a celestial bed,
And prey on garbage.

But, foft methinks, Ifcent the morning air
Brief let me be; Sleeping within mine orchard,
My cuftom always of the afternoon,
Upon my fecure hour thy uncle ftole
With juice of curfed hebenon in a viol,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
The leperous diftilment; whofe effect
Holds fuch an enmity with blood of man,
That fwift as quick-filver it courses through
The nat'ral gates and allies of the body;
And, with a fudden vigour, it doth poffet
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholfome blood: fo did it mine,
And a moft inftant tetter bark'd about,
Moft lazar-like, with vile and loathfome cruft

All

All

my fmooth body.

Thus was I fleeping, by a brother's hand,

Of life, of Crown, of Queen, at once dispatcht;
Cut off even in the bloffoms of my fin,
Unhousel'd, unappointed, unaneal'd: (19)

No

(19) Unhouzzled, unanointed, unaneal'd ;] The Ghost, having recounted the Procefs of his Murther, proceeds to exaggerate the Inhuma nity and Unnaturalness of the Fact, from the Circumstances in which he was furpriz'd. But thefe, I find, have been ftumbling Blocks to our Editors; and therefore I muft amend and explain these 3 compound Adjectives in their Order. Instead of unhouzzel'd, we must restore, anhoufel'd, ie. without the Sacrament taken from the old Saxon Word for the Sacrament, houfel. So our Etymologifts, and Chaucer write it; and Spencer, accordingly, calls the Sacramental Fire, boufling Fire. In the next place, unanointed is a Sophiftication of the Text: the old Copies concur in reading, difappointed. I correct,

Unhoufeld, unappointed,

i. e. no Confeffion of Sins made, no Reconciliation to Heaven, no Ap. pointment of Penance by the Church. To this Purpose Othello speaks to his Wife, when he is upon the Point of killing her;

If you bethink your felf of any Crime,

Unreconcil'd as yet to Heav'n and Grace,

Sollicit for it firait.

So in Meafure for Measure, when Isabella brings word to Claudio that he is to be inftantly executed, the urges him to this necessary Duty;

Therefore your best Appointment make with Speed,

To Morrow you fet out.

Unaneal'd, I agree to be the Poet's genuine Word; but I must take the Liberty to difpute Mr. Pope's Explication of it, viz. No Knell rung. I don't pretend to know what Gloffaries Mr. Pope may have confulted and trufts to; but whofefoever they are, I am fure, their Comment is very fingular in the Word alledg'd. The Adjective form'd from Knell, muft have been unknell'd or unknoll'd. So, in Macbeth ;

Had I as many Sons, as I have hairs,

I would not wish them to a fairer Death;
And fo his Knell is knoll'd.

There is no Rule in Orthography for finking the k in the Deflexion of any Verb or Compound form'd from Knell, and melting it into a Vowel. What Sense does unaneal'd then bear? SKINNER, in his Lexicon of old and obfolete English Terms, tells us, that Aneal'd is unetus; from the Teutonick Prepofition an, and Ole, i. e. Oil: fo that unaneal'd must confequently fignify, unanointed, not having the extream Unction. So that the Poet's Reading and Explication being afcertain'd, he very finely makes his Ghoft complain of thefe four dreadful Hardships; That he had been difpatch'd out of Life without receiving the Hofte, or Sacrament; without being reconcil'd to Heaven and abfol'd; without the Benefit of ex

No reck❜ning made, but fent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
Oh, horrible! oh, horrible! most horrible!
If thou haft nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But howsoever thou purfu'ft this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy foul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heav'n,
And to those thorns that in her bofom lodge,
To prick and fting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm fhews the Matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.

Adieu, adieu, adieu; remember me.

[Exit

Ham. Oh, all you hoft of heav'n! oh earth! what elfe?

And fhall I couple hell? oh, hold my heart

And you, my finews, grow not instant old;
But bear me ftiffly up; remember thee-
Ay, thou poor Ghoft, while memory holds a feat
In this diftracted globe; remember thee-
Yea, from the table of my memory (20)
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All faws of books, all forms, all preffures paft,
That youth and obfervation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix'd with bafer matter. Yes, by heav'n :
Oh moft pernicious woman!

Oh villain, villain, fmiling damned villain!
My tables,

-meet it is, I fet it down,

tream Unction; or without fo much as a Confeffion made of his Sins. The having no Knell rung, I think is not a Point of equal Confequence to of thefe; especially, if we confider, that the Romish Church admits the Efficacy of praying for the Dead.

any

(20) Yea, from the Table of my Memory

I'll wipe away all trivial fond Records.] Efchylus, I remember,

twice ufes this very Metaphor; confidering the Mind or Memory, as a

Tablet, or Writing-book, on which we are to engrave Things worthy of
Remembrance.

ὧν ἐγγράφε Σὺ μνήμοσιν Δέλτοις φρενών. Prometh.
Δελτογράφῳ ἢ παν] ̓ ἐπωπᾷ φρενί. Eumenid.

That