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A little month! or ere those shoes were old,
With which she followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears---Why the, ev’n the,---
(O heav'n! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourned longer---) married with mine

My father's brother; but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules. Within a month !---
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the Aushing in her gauled eyes,
She married ---Oh, most wicked speed, to poft
With such dexterity to incestuous Theets !
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
Hor. Hail to your Lordfhip!

Ham. I am glad to see you well; Horatio,---or I do forget myself?

Hor. The same, my Lord, and your poor ferHam. Sir, my good friend ; I'll change that

name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? Marcellus !

Mar. My good Lord----

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, Sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

Hor. A truant difpofition, good my Lord.

vant ever.

Mr Dryden has remarked, that this is the sharpelt satire in the fewest words, that ever was made on womankind; for both the adjectives are neuter, aod animal must be understood to make them grammar. 'Tis certain the designed contempt is heightened by this change of the gender ; but, I presume, Mr Dryden had forgot this passage of Shakespeare, when he declared on the side of Virgil's hemistich, as the fharpest satire he had met with.

Ham. I would not hear your enemy say fo;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself. I know you are no truant;
But what is your affair in Ellinoor?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My Lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Ham. I pr'ythee, do not mock me, fellow-student; ; I think it was to see my mother's wedding,

Hor. Indeed, my Lord, it followed hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio; the funeral baked


Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father---methinks, I fee my

Hor. Oh where, my Lord ?
Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.
Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly King.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My Lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who:-
Hor. My Lord, the King your father.
Ham. The King my father!

Hor. Season your admiration but a while,
With an attentive ear ; 'till I deliver
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear.
Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encountered: A figure like your father,
Armed at all points exactly, cap-a-pe,
Appears before them, and with folemn march

Goes flow and stately by them; thrice he walked,
By their oppreffed and fear-furprifed eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they (distilled
Almost to jelly with the act of fear)
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the watch;
Where, as they had delivered both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew your father :
There hands are not more like,

Ham. But where was this:
Mar. My Lord, upon the platform where we

Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My Lord. I did;
But answer made it none; yet once methought,
It lifted up its head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But even then the morning cock crew loud;
And at the found it Ihrunk in hafte away,
And vanished from our sight.

Ham. 'Tis very itrange.

Hor. As I do live, my honoured Lord, 'tis true ; And we did think it writ down in our duty To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?

Both. We do, my Lord.
Ham. Armed, say you?
Both. Armed,


Ham. From top to toe?
Both. My Lord, from head to foot.
Ham. Then faw you not his face?
Hor. Oh yes, my Lord, he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, looked he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more in forrow than in anger:
Ham. Pale or red ?
Hor. Nay, very pale.
Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you?
Hor. Most constantly.
Ham. I would I had been there!
· Hor. It would have much amazed

you. Ham. Very like ; staid it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell

a hundred.
Both. Longer, longer.
Hor. Not when I saw't.
Ham. His beard was grisly?

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,
A sable silvered.
Ham. I'll watch to-night; perchance 'twill walk

Hor. I warrant you it will.

Ham. If it assume my noble father's perfon,
I'll speak to it, tho' hell itself should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto concealed this light,
Let it be treble in your Glence still:
And whatsoever shall befal to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
I will requite your loves : fo, fare ye well.
Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve

I'll visit you.

All. Our duty to your honour. [Exeunt.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: farewel. My father's fpirit in arms! all is not well: I doubt fome foul play; 'would the night were

come! 'Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise (Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them) to men's eyes.


SCENE changes to an Apartment in Polonius's

Laer. My neceffaries are embarked, farewel;
And, fister, as the winds give benefit,
And convoy is alliitant, do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.

Oph. Do you doubt that?

Laer. For Hamlet, and the trilling of his favour, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of prime nature, Forward, not permanent, though swect, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute: No more.------

Oph. No more but so ?

Laer. Think it no more: For nature, crescent, does not go alone In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes, The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now; And now no foil, nor .cautel, doch befmerch (10) The virtue of his will: but you must fear, His greatness weighed, his will is not his own:

(10) And now no soil, nor cautei.) Cantal from cauteln, in its first derived signification, means a prudent forelight or cartie "; but when we naturalize a Latin word into our tongue, we do not think ourselves obliged to use it is its precile, native Iignification. So here, traductively, 'tis employed to mean decuit, craft, insincerity And in these acceptations we find our Author using the adjective from it, in his Julius Cafar;

Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous. In the like manner the French use their caulcleux; by which they understand rüse, trompeur; and Minshew has explained the word cautil thus, a crafty way to deceive.

Mr Harbution. VOL. XII.


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