Each Toy feems prologue to fome great Amifs; It fpills it felf, in fearing to be fpilt. Enter Ophelia, diftracted. Oph. Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark? Queen. How now, Ophelia? Oph. How Should I your true Love know from another one? By his cockle hat and staff, and his fandal fhoon. [Singing. Queen. Alas, fweet lady; what imports this Song? Oph. Say you? nay, pray you, mark. He's dead and gone, lady, he is dead and gone; Queen. Nay, but Ophelia Oph. Pray you, mark. White his fbrowd as the mountain fnow. Queen. Alas, look here, my lord. Oph. Larded all with fweet flowers: Which bewept to the Grave did go King. How do ye, pretty lady? Oph. Well, God yield you! They fay, the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we 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, fay you this: To morrow is St. Valentine's day, all in the morn betime, And I a maid at your window, to be your Valentine. Then up he rofe, and don'd his cloaths, and dupt the chamber door; Let in the maid, that out a maid never departed more. King, Pretty Ophelia! Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't. By Gis, and by S. Charity, Alack, and fie for fhame! Young men will do't, if they come to't, So would I ha' done, by yonder fun, King. How long has the been thus? Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot chufe but weep, to think, they fhould lay him i'th' cold ground; my brother shall know of it, and fo I thank you for your good counfel. Come, my coach good night, ladies; good night, fweet ladies; good night, good night. [Exit. King. Follow her clofe, give her good watch, I pray [Exit Horatio. you; This is the poifon of deep grief; it fprings Her brother is in fecret come from France: I Gives Gives me fuperfluous death! Queen. Alack! what Noife is this ? Enter a Meffenger. [A noife within. King. Where are my Switzers? let them guard the door. What is the matter? Mef. Save your felf, my lord. The ocean, over-peering of his lift, Eats not the flats with more impetuous hafte, O'er-bears your officers; the rabble call him lord; The ratifiers and props of every Ward; (27) Queen. How chearfully on the falfe trail they cry! Oh, this is counter, you false Danish dogs. [Noife within. Enter Laertes, with a Party at the Door. King. The doors are broke. Laer. Where is this King? Sirs! ftand you all with out. All. No, let's come in. (27) The Ratifiers and Props of ev'ry Word;] The whole Tenour of the Context is fufficient to fhew, that this is a miftaken Reading. What can Antiquity and Custom, being the Props of Words, have to do with the Bufinefs in hand? Or what Idea is convey'd by it? Certainly, the Poet wrote; The Ratifiers and Props of ev'ry Ward; The Meffenger is complaining, that the riotous-Head - had over-borne the King's Officers, and then fubjoins, that Antiquity and Custom were forgot, which were the Ratifiers and Props of every Ward, i. e. of every one of those. Securities that Nature and Law place about the Perfon of a King. All this is rational and confequential. Mr. Warburton. Laer. Laer. I pray you, give me leave. Laer. I thank you; keep the door. [Exeunt. Laer. That drop of blood that's calm, proclaims me! baftard; Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot Even here, between the chafte and unfmirch'd brow King. What is the cause, Laertes, That thy Rebellion looks fo giant-like? ་ Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our perfon: That treafon can but peep to what it would, Why are you thus incens'd? Let him go, Gertrudes 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! Confcience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation; to this point I stand, That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come, what comes; only I'll be reveng'd Moft throughly for my father. King, Who fhall ftay you ?? Laer. My will, not all the world; And for my means, I'll husband them so well, If Of King Good Laertes, you defire to know the certainty your dear father, is't writ in your revenge, (That fweep ftake) you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and defer? Laer. None but his enemies. King. Will you know them then? I 2 Laer. Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms, And, like the kind life-rendring pelican, Like a good child, and a true gentleman. As day does to your eye. [A noise within, “Let her come in.] Laer. How now, what noise is that? Enter Ophelia, fantastically dreft with fraws O heat, dry up my brains! tears, feven times falt, By heav'n, thy madness shall be paid with weight, O heav'ns, is't poffible a young maid's wits Oph. They bore him bare-fac'd on the bier, Fare you well, my dove! Laer. Had'ft thou thy wits, and did'ft perfwade Revenge, It could not move thus. Oph. You must fing, down a-down, and you call him a-down-a. O how the wheel becomes it! it is the falfe fteward that stole his master's daughter. Laer. This nothing's more than matter. Oph. There's rofemary, that's for remembrance pray, love, remember; and there's pancies, that's for thoughts. Latr. |