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Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Exposing what is mortal, and unsure,
To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great,
Is, not to stir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When honour's at the stake, How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason, and my blood,
And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot1
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough, and continent,"
To hide the slain?-O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

[Exit,

SCENE V.

Elsinore. A Room in the Castle.

Enter Queen and HORATIO.

Queen. I will not speak with her.

Hor. She is importunate; indeed, distract;

Her mood will needs be pitied.

Queen.

What would she have? Hor. She speaks much of her father; says, she hears,

9 Rightly to be great,

Is, not to stir without, &c.] But then, honour is an argument, or subject of debate, sufficiently great, and when honour is at stake, we must find cause of quarrel in a straw.

1

2

a plot.] A piece, or portion.

continent.] Continent, in our author, means that which comprehends or encloses.

*

There's tricks i'the world; and hems, and beats her

heart;

Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it doth move

The hearers to collection; they aim at it,'

And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts; Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield

them,

Indeed would make one think, there might be

thought,

Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily."

Queen. 'Twere good, she were spoken with; for she may strew

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds:

Let her come in.

[Exit HORATIO.

To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,

Each toy seems-prologue to some great amiss:7
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,

It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Re-enter HORATIO, with OPHElia.

Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark? Queen. How now, Ophelia?

3 Spurns enviously at straws ;] Envy is much oftener put by our poet (and those of his time) for direct aversion, than for malignity conceived at the sight of another's excellence or happiness.

to collection;] i. e. to deduce consequences from such premises; or, as Mr. M. Mason observes, " endeavour to collect some meaning from them."

5

they aim at it,] To aim is to guess.

6 Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.] i. e. though her meaning cannot be certainly collected, yet there is enough to put a mischievous interpretation to it.

to some great amiss:] Shakspeare is not singular in his use of this word as a substantive. Each toy is, each trifle.

Oph. How should I your true love know
From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon."

[Singing.

Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song? Oph. Say you? nay, pray you, mark.

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How should I your true love, &c.] There is no part of this play in its representation on the stage, more pathetick than this scene; which, I suppose, proceeds from the utter insensibility Ophelia has to her own misfortunes. A great sensibity, or none at all, seems to produce the same effect. In the latter the audience supply what she wants, and with the former they sympathize. SIR J. REYNOLDS. 9 By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon.] This is the description of a pilgrim. While this kind of devotion was in favour, love-intrigues were carried on under that mask. Hence the old ballads and novels made pilgrimages the subjects of their plots. The cockle-shell hat was one of the essential badges of this vocation: for the chief places of devotion being beyond sea, or on the coasts, the pilgrims were accustomed to put cockle-shells upon their hats, to denote the intention or performance of their devotion.

King. How do you, pretty lady?

Oph. Well, God'ield you! They say, the owl was a baker's daughter.3 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, say you this:

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Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine:

Then

up he rose, and don'd his clothes,*
And dupp'd the chamber door ;5
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 Saint Charity,
Alack, and fye for shame!

Young men will do't, if they come to’t;
By cock, they are to blame.

Larded —;] The expression is taken from cookery.

? Well, God'ield you !] i. e. Heaven reward you!

3

the owl was a baker's daughter.] This was a legendary story. Our Saviour being refused bread by the daughter of a baker, is described as punishing her by turning her into an owl.

don'd his clothes,] To don, is to do on, to put on, as doff is to do off, put off.

And dupp'd the chamber door;] To dup, is to do up; to lift the latch.

6 By Gis,] Probably the contraction of some Saint's name.

7

by Saint Charity,] Saint Charity is a saint among the Roman Catholicks.

8

By cock,] This is a corruption of the sacred name.

Quoth she, before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to wed:

[He answers.]

So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.

King. How long hath she been thus?

Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him i'the cold ground: My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good coun sel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies: good night, good night.

pray you.

[Exit. King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I [Exit HORATIO. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: And now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude,

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions! First, her father slain;

Next, your son gone; and he most violent author Of his own just remove: The people muddied, Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whis

pers,

For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,

In hugger-mugger to inter him:' Poor Ophelia

9but greenly,] But unskilfully; with greenness; that is, without maturity of judgment.

In hugger-mugger to inter him:] All the modern editions that I have consulted, give it:

In private to inter him;—

That the words now replaced are better, I do not undertake to prove; it is sufficient that they are Shakspeare's: if phraseology is to be changed as words grow uncouth by disuse, or gross by vul

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