Hor. I warrant you, it will. Ham. If it affume my noble father's perfon, All. Our duty to your Honour. Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: farewel. My father's Spirit in arms! all is not well : [Exeunt. I doubt fome foul play: 'would, the night were come! 'Till then fit ftill, my foul: foul deeds will rife (Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them) to men's eyes. (Exit. SCENE changes to an Apartment in Polonius's Laer. Houfe. Enter Laertes and Ophelia. And, fifter, as the winds give benefit, Y neceffaries are imbark'd, farewel; And Convoy is affiftant, do not fleep, But let me hear from you. Oph. Do you doubt That? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood s A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, tho' fweet, not lafting; Oph. No more but fo? Laer. Think it no more: For Nature, crefcent, does not grow alone In thews and bulk; but, as this Temple waxes, The inward fervice of the mind and foul Grows Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now; He may not, as unvalued perfons do, May give his Saying deed; which is no further, Or lofe your heart, or your chafte treasure open ; Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear fifter Laer. Oh, fear me not. Enter 'I stay too long; Enter Polonius. but here my father comes: A double Bleffing is a double grace; Occafion fmiles upon a fecond leave. Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard for fhame: The wind fits in the shoulder of your fail, (6) And you are ftaid for. My Bleffing with you; There; [Laying his hand on Laertes's head. And these few precepts in thy memory See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar; (6) The Wind fits in the Shoulder of your Sail, And you are ftay'd for there. My Blessing, &c.] Therewhere in the Shoulder of his Sail? For to That muft this local Adverb relate, as 'tis fituated. Befides, it is a dragging idle Expletive, and seems of no Ufe but to support the Meafure of the Verfe. But when we come to point this Paffage right, and to the Poet's Intention in it, we shall find it neither unneceffary, nor improper, in its Place. In the Speech immediately preceding this, Laertes taxes himself for staying too long; but feeing his Father approach, he is willing to stay for a second Blessing, and kneels down to that end: Polonius accordingly lays his hand on his Head, and gives him the second Bleffing. The Manner, in which a Comic Actor behav'd upon this Occafion, was fure to raise a Laugh of Pleasure in the Audience: And the oldeft Quarto's, in the Pointing, are a Confirmation that thus the Poet intended it, and thus the Stage express'd it. Coftly Coftly thy habit as thy purfe can buy, What I have faid. Oph. 'Tis in my mem'ry lockt, And you your felf fhall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewel. [Exit Laer. Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath faid to you? Oph. So please you, fomething touching the lord Hamlet. Pol. Marry, well bethought! 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late Given private time to you; and you your felf Have of your audience been moft free and bounteous. If it be fo, (as fo 'tis put on me, And that in way of caution,) I must tell you, (7) The Time invites You, -] This Reading is as old as the firft Folio; however I fufpect it to have been fubftituted by the Players, who did not understand the Term which poffeffes the elder Quarto's: The Time invefts you, i. e. besieges, preffes upon you on every Side. To invest a Town,' is the military Phrase from which our Author borrow'd his Metaphor. What 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, Ufifted in fuch perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I fhould think. Pol. Marry, I'll teach you; think your self a baby; have ta'en his tenders for true pay, That you Which are not sterling. Tender your felf more dearly; (8) Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Oph. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love, : Pol. Ay, fashion you may call't go to, go to. Oph. And hath giv'n count'nance to his fpeech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Pol. Ay, fpringes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the foul Lends the tongue vows. Thefe blazes, oh my daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, Ev'n in their promife as it is a making, You must not take for fire. From this time, Be fomewhat fcanter of your maiden-prefence, Set your intreatments as a higher rate, Than a command to parley. For lord Hamlet, Believe fo much in him, that he is young; And with a larger tether he may walk, Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia, (8) Tender your self more dearly; Or (not to crack the Wind of the poor Phrase) Wronging it thus, you'll tender me a Fool. The Parenthefis is clos'd at the wrong place; and we muft make likewife a flight Correction in the laft Verfe. Polonius is racking and playing on the Word Tender, 'till he thinks proper to correct himself for the Licence; and then he would fay ther to crack the Wind of the Phrafe by twisting and contort ing it, as I have done; c. Vo L. VIII. F not far Mr. Warburton. |