Within the center. King. How may we try it further? Pol. You know, fometimes he walks four hours together, Here in the lobby. Queen. So he does, indeed. Pol. At fuch a time I'll loofe my daughter to him; Be you and I behind an Arras then, Mark the encounter; If he love her not, SCENE V. Enter Hamlet reading. Queen. But, look, where, fadly the poor wretch comes reading. Pol. Away, I do befeech you, both away. I'll board him presently. Oh, give me leave. Hamlet? [Exeunt King and Queen? How does my good Lord Ham. Well, God o' mercy. Pol. Do you know me, my Lord ? Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. Pol. Not I, my Lord. Ham. Then I would you were fo honeft a man. Pol. Honeft, my Lord? Ham. Ay, Sir; to be honeft, as this world goes, is to be one man pick'd out of ten thousand. Pol. That's very true, my Lord. Ham. Ham. For if the fun breed maggots in a dead dog, Being a God, kiffing carrionHave you a daughter? For if the Sun breed maggots in a dead dog, Being a GOOD kiing carrionHave you a daughter?] The editors feeing Hamlet counterfeit madness, thought they might fafely put any nonfenfe into his mouth. But this ftrange paffage when fet right, will be feen to contain as great and fublime a reflexion as any the poet puts in to his Hero's mouth throughout the whole play. We fhall first give the true reading, which is this, For if the Sun breed maggots in a dead dog, Being a God, kifling carrion As to the fenfe we may obferve, that the illative particle [for] fhews the fpeaker to be reafoning from fomething he had faid before: What that was we learn in these words, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one picked out of ten thousand. Having faid this, the chain of ideas led him to reflect upon the argument which libertines bring against Providence from the circumstance of abounding Evil. In the next freech therefore he endeavours to anfwer that objection, and vindicate Providence, even on a fuppofition of the fact, that almoft all men were wicked. His argument in the two lines in quef. tion is to this purpofe, But u by weed we avender at this abounding of ev.l? for if the Sun breed Pol. margots in dead dog, which the a God, yet fbedding its beat and influence upon carrion--Here he flops fhort, left talking too confequentially the hearer fhould fufpect his madness to be feigned; and fo turns him off from the fubject, by enquiring of his daughter. But the inference which he intended to make, was a very noble one, and to this purpofe, If this (fays he) be the cafe, that the effect follows the thing operated upon [carrion] and not the thing operating [a God;] why need we wonder, that the fupreme caufe of all things diffufing its bleffings on mankind, who is, as it were, a dead carrion, dead in original fin, man, inflead of a proper return of duty, fhould breed only corruption and vices? This is the argument at length; and is as noble a one in behalf of providence as could come from the fchools of divinity. But this wonderful man had an art not only of acquainting the audience with what his actors fay, but with what they think. The fentiment too is altogether in character, for Hamlet is perpetually moralizing, and his circumftances make this reflexion very natural. The fame thought, fomething diverfified, as on a different occafion, he uses again in Measure for Measure, which will ferve to confirmthefe obfervations: The Pol. I have, my Lord. Ham. Let her not walk i' th' Sun; conception is a bleffing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't. Pol. How fay you by that? Still harping on my daughter? Yet he knew me not at first; he said, I was a fish monger. He is far gone; and, truly, in my youth, Very near this.I'll fpeak to him again. Ham. Words, words, words. Pol. What is the matter, my Lord? [Afide. Pol. I mean the matter that you read, my Lord. Ham. Slanders, Sir: for the fatirical flave fays here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit; together with most weak hams. All which, The tempter or the tempted, who That lying by the violet in the Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt by virtuous feafon.And the fame kind of expreffion in Cymbeline, Common-kifing Titan. WARB. This is a noble emendation, which almoft fets the critick on a level with the authour. 7 Slanders, Sir: for the fatyrical flave fays here, that old men, &c.] By the fatyrical flave he means Juvenal in his tenth fatire: Da fpatium vitæ, multos da Hoc recto vultu, folum hoc & Sed quàm continuis & quantis longa fene&us Plena malis! deformem, & tetrum ante omnia vultum, Diffimilemque fui, &c. Nothing could be finer imagined for Hamlet, in his circumftances, than the bringing him in reading a defcription of the evils of long life. WARBURTON. Sir, Sir, tho' I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honefty to have it thus. fet down; for yourself, Sir, fhall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward. Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in't. Will you walk out of the air, my Lord? Ham. Into my grave. Pol. Indeed, that is out o' th' air :- My honourable Lord, I will most humbly [Afide. Ham. You cannot, Sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal, except my life. Pol. Fare you well, my Lord. Ham. These tedious old fools! Pol. You go to feek Lord Hamlet; there he is. [Exit. SCENE VI. Enter Rofincrantz and Guildenstern. Rof. God fave you, Sir. Guil. Mine honour'd Lord! Rof. My moft dear Lord! Ham. My excellent good friends! How doft thou, Oh, Rofincrantz, good lads! how do ye both? On On fortune's cap, we are not the very button. Rof. Neither, my Lord. Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours? Guil. 'Faith, in privates we. Ham. In the fecret parts of fortune? `oh, most true? she is a ftrumpet. What news? Rof. None, my Lord, but that the word's grown honest. Ham. Then is dooms day near; but your news is not true. Let me queftion more in particular: what have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, that the fends you to prison hither? Guil. Prifon, my Lord! Ham. Denmark's a prifon. Rof. Then is the world one. Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark being one o'th' worft. Rof. We think not fo, my Lord. Ham. Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it fo. To me, it is a prifon. Rof. Why, then your ambition makes it one: 'tis too narrow for your mind. Ham. Oh God, I could be bounded in a nut-fhell, and count myself a King of infinite space; were it not, that I have bad dreams. Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are Ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious it merely the fhadow of a dream. Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow. 8 The Shadow of a dream.] Shakespeare has accidentally in verted an expreffion of Pindar, 8 that the ftate of humanity is cards rap, the dream of a shadow. |