The King rifes, and comes forward. Hoor sH WM 28 duh es wold bead zamin zid le doyr King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. [Exit.

n

Pol.

Enter Queen and Polonius.

E will come ftraight; look, you lay home to him;

HE

Tell him, his pranks have been too broad to bear

with,

And that your Grace hath fcreen'd, and stood between as Much heat and him. I'll filence me e'en here; Pray you, be round with him.ɔbate 2

Ham. [within.] Mother, Mother, Mother. A Queen. I'll warrant you, fear me not. Withdraw, I hear him coming.

[Polonius hides himself behind the Arras.

bisod Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter?

[Queen, Hamlet, thou haft thy father much offended.

-26.75-I'll filence me e'en bere; gas Pray you, be round with him.]

#7

forget that the contrivance of Polonius to overhear the conference,

4. Hanmer, who is followed was no more told to the Queen

Sir

By Dr. Warburton, reads,

-I'll sconce me here. Retire to a place of fecurity. They

thah to Hamlet.-I'll filence me ev'n here, is, I'll ufe no more words!

Ham.

Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended.
Queen. Come, come, you anfwer with an idle tongue.
Ham. Go, go, you queftion 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 fo:

You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife, But, 'would you were not fo!-You are my mother. Queen. Nay, then I'll fet thofe to you that can

fpeak.

Ham. Come, come, and fit you down; you fhall not budge.

You go not, 'till I fet you up a glafs

Where you may fee the inmoft part of you.

Queen. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder
I me?

Help, ho.

Pol. What ho, help.

[Behind the Arras.

Ham. How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead.

Pol. Oh, I am flain.

[Hamlet kills Polonius.

Queen. Oh me, what haft thou done?

Ham. Nay, I know not: is it the King?

Queen. Oh, what a rash and blood deed is this! Ham. A bloody deed; almost as bad, good mo

ther,

As kill a King, and marry with his brother.
Queen. As kill a King?

Ham. Ay, lady, 'twas my word.

Thou wretched, rafh, intruding fool, farewel,

[To Polonius. I took thee for thy Betters; take thy fortune; Thou find'ft, to be too bufy, is fome danger. Leave wringing of your hands; peace; fit you down, And let me wring your heart, for so I shall, If it be made of penetrable ftuff;

If damned custom have not braz'd it fo,
That it is proof and bulwark against sense.

Queen. What have I done, that thou dar'ft wag thy tongue

In noise so rude against me?

Ham. Such an act,

That blurs the grace and blufh of modefty;
Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rofe
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And fets a blifter there; makes marriage vows
As falfe as dicers' oaths. Oh, fuch a deed,
As from the body of Contraction plucks
The very foul, and sweet Religion makes.
A rhapsody of words.

I

2

Heav'n's face doth glow;
Yea, this folidity and compound mass,
With triftful vifage, as against the doom,
Is thought-fick at the act.

Queen. Ah me! what act,

That roars fo loud, and thunders in the index?
Ham. Look here upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit prefentment of two brothers:
See, what a grace was feated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye, like Mars, to threaten or command;
A ftation, like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a heaven-kiffing hill;
A combination, and a form indeed,
Where every God did feem to fet his feal,
To give the world affurance of a man.

This was your husband,Look you now, what follows;

Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear, Blafting his wholefome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it Love; for, at your age,

is, I think, not fo ftriking as trifitful, which was, I fuppofe, chosen at the revisal. I believe the whole paffage now stands as the authour gave it. Dr. Warburton's reading reftores two im. proprieties, which Shakespeare, by his alteration, had removed. In the firft, and in the new reading: Heav'n's face glows with trifful vifage, and, Heav'n's face is thought-fick. To the common reading there is no juft objection. 3 Queen. Ay me! what alt, That roars fo loud, and thunders

in_the_index?] This is a frange answer. But the old quario brings us nearer to the poet's fenfe, by dividing the lines thus;

Queen. Ab me, what aft?

Ham. That roars fo loud, and

thunders in the Index. Here we find the Queen's anfwer very natural. He had faid the Sun was thought-fick at the act, She says,

Ab me? what aƐ??

He replies, (as we should read it)
That roars fo loud, IT thunders

TO the INDIES.
He had before faid Heav'n was
fhocked at it; he now tells her,
it refounded all the world over.
This gives us a very good sense
where all fenfe was wanting.

WARBURTON.

The meaning is, What is this act, of which the discovery, or mention, cannot be made, but with this violence of clamour ?

The

The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment
Would ftep from this to this Senfe, fure, you have,
Elfe could you not have notion; but, fure, that fenfe
Is apoplex'd, for madness would not err;
Nor fenfe to ecftafy was ne'er fo thrall'd,
But it referv'd fome quantity of choice
To ferve in fuch a difference.

What devil was't,

That thus hath cozen'd you a hoodman blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without fight,
Ears without hands or eyes, Imelling fans all,
Or but a fickly part of one true fenfe
Could not fo mope.

Ofhame! where is thy blush? rebellious hell,

If