The King rifes, and comes forward.

King, My words fly up, my thoughts remain below Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. [Exit.

Pol. HE

Enter Queen and Polonius.

E will come straight; look, you lay home to him;

Tell him, his pranks have been too broad to bear

with;

And that your Grace hath screen'd, and stood between Much heat and him.

I'll filence me e'en here;

Pray you, be round with him.

Ham. [within.] Mother, Mother, Mother.
Queen. I'll warrant you, fear me not.

Withdraw, I hear him coming.

[Polonius bides himself behind the Arras.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter?
Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.

Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended.
Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
Ham. Go, go, you queftion with a wicked tongue.
Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet?
Ham. What's the matter now?
Queen. Have you forgot me?

Ham. No, by the rood, not fo:

You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife, But, 'would you were not fo!-You are my mother. Queen. Nay, then I'll fet thofe to you that can speak.

Ham. Come, come, and fit you down; you shall not budge.

You go not, 'till I fet you up a glass

Where you may fee the inmoft part of you.

Queen. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?

Help, ho.

Pol. What ho, help.

[Behind the Arras.

Ham. How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead.

Pol. Oh, I am flain.

[Hamlet kills Polonius.

Queen. Oh me, what haft thou done?

Ham. Nay, I know not: is it the King?

Queen. Oh, what a rash and blood deed is this! Ham. A bloody deed; almoft as bad, good mo

ther,

As kill a King, and marry with his brother.
Queen. As kill a King?

Ham. Ay, lady, 'twas my word.

Thou wretched, rafh, intruding fool, farewel,

[To Polonius. I took thee for thy Betters; take thy fortune; Thou find'ft, to be too bufy, is fome danger. Leave wringing of your hands; peace; fit you down, And let me wring your heart, for so I shall, If it be made of penetrable ftuff:

If damned cuftom have not braz'd it fo,
That it is proof and bulwark against sense.

Queen. What have I done, that thou dar'ft wag thy tongue

In noise fo rude against me?

Ham. Such an act,

9

That blurs the grace and blush of modefty;
Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rofe
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And fets a blifter there; makes marriage vows
As falfe as dicers' oaths. Oh, fuch a deed,
As from the body of Contraction plucks
The very foul, and fweet Religion makes

1

A rhapsody of words.

Heav'n's face doth glow;
Yea, this folidity and compound mass,
With triftful visage, as against the doom,
Is thought-fick at the act.

Queen. Ah me! what act,

That roars fo loud, and thunders in the index?
Ham. Look here upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit prefentment of two brothers:
See, what a grace was feated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye, like Mars, to threaten or command;
A ftation, like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a heaven-kiffing hill;
A combination, and a form indeed,
Where every God did feem to fet his feal,
To give the world affurance of a man.

This was your husband,-Look you now, what follows;

Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear, Blafting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it Love; for, at your age,

is, I think, not fo ftriking as triftful, which was, I fuppofe, chofen at the revifal. I believe the whole paffage now ftands as the authour gave it. Dr. Warburton's reading reftores two improprieties, which Shakespeare, by his alteration, had removed. In the firft, and in the new reading: Heav'n's face glows with rififul vilage, and, Heav'n's face is thought-fick. To the common reading there is no juft objection. 3 Queen. Ay me! what act, That roars fo loud, and thunder's

in the index?] This is a ftrange answer. But the old quario brings us nearer to the poet's fenfe, by dividing the lines thus;

Queen. Ab me, what a&?

Ham. That rears fo loud, and

thunders in the Index. Here we find the Queen's answer very natural. He had faid the Sun was thought-fick at the act, She fays,

Ah me? what a&t? He replies, (as we should read it) That roars. rs fo loud, IT thunders To the INDIES. He had before said Heav'n was fhocked at it; he now tells her, it refounded all the world over. This gives us a very good sense where all fenfe was wanting.

WARBURTON.

The meaning is, What is this act, of which the difcovery, cr mention, cannot be made, but with this violence of clamour ?

The

The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment
Would step from this to this. Senfe, fure, you have,
Elfe could you not have notion; but, fure, that fenfe
Is apoplex'd, for madness would not err;
Nor fenfe to ecftafy was ne'er fo thrall'd,
But it referv'd fome quantity of choice
To ferve in fuch a diff'rence.

-What devil was't,

That thus hath cozen'd you a hoodman blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without fight,
Ears without hands or eyes, fmelling fans all,
Or but a fickly part of one true sense
Could not fo mope.

O fhame! where is thy blush? rebellious hell,

TION:

4 In former editions, Senfe, fure, you have, Elfe could you not have MO-] But from what philofophy our editors learnt this, I cannot tell. Since motion depends fo little upon fenfe, that the greatest part of motion in the univerfe, is amongst bodies devoid of fenfe. We fhould read Elfe could you not have NO

TION, i. e. intellect, reafon, &c. This alludes to the famous peripatetic principle of Nil fit in INTELLECTU, quod non fuerit in SENsu. And how fond our author was of applying, and alluding to, the principles of this philofophy, we have given feveral inftances. The principle in particular has been fince taken for the foundation of one of the nobleft works that these latter ages have produced. WARBURTON. rebellious hell, If thou canst mutiny in a maVOL. VIII.