Makes mouths at the invisible event; [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 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 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. 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: Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day, Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes,* King. Pretty Ophelia! Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't: By Gis, and by Saint Charity, Young men will do't, if they come to’t; 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, [He answers.] So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, 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 |