Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue! Enter HORATIO, BERNARDO, and MARCELLUS. Hor. Hail to your lordship! Ham. I am glad to see you well: Horatio, or I do forget myself. Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name* with you. And what make you' from Wittenberg, Horatio?— Mar. My good lord, Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, sir,- We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart. Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding. Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meatsTM 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 see my father. k ·I'll change that name— -] I'll be your servant, you shall be my friend. -JOHNSON. 1 m - what make you-] A familiar phrase for what are you doing.-JOHNSON. — the funeral bak'd meats-] It was anciently the general custom to give a cold entertainment to mourners at a funeral. In distant counties this practice is continued among the yeomanry.-MALONE. - dearest—] i. e. Most immediate, consequential, important. Hor. My lord? Where, Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king. I shall not look upon his like again. Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Hor. My lord, the king your father. Ham. The king my father! Hor. Season' your admiration for a while With an attent ear; till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, This marvel to you. Ham. For God's love, let me hear. Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead waist and middle of the night, Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, Appears before them, and, with solemn march, Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd 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: Form of the thing, each word made true and good, These hands are not more like. Ham. But where was this? Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. • Season-] That is, temper. q attent-] For attentive. a In the dead waist and middle of the night,] This strange phraseology seems to have been common in the time of Shakspeare. By waist is meant nothing more than middle; but dead wuste may be the true reading.-MALONE and STEEVENS. with the act of fear,] Fear was the cause, the active cause that distill'd them by the force of operation which we strictly call act in voluntary, and power in involuntary agents, but popularly call act in both.-JOHNSON. Ham. Did you not speak to it? Hor. My lord, I did: Itself to motion, like as it would speak : But, even then, the morning cock crew loud; Ham. 'Tis very strange. Hor. As I do live, my honour'd 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? Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up." Ham. What, look'd he frowningly? Hor. In sorrow than in anger. Ham. Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham. Hor. Most constantly. Ham. A countenance more Pale, or red? And fix'd his eyes upon you? I would I had been there. Hor. It would have much amaz'd you. Ham. Very like Stay'd it long? : Very like, Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hun Mar. Ber. Longer, longer. Hor. Not when I saw it. [dred. he wore his beaver up.] Though beaver properly signified that part of the helmet which was let down, to enable the wearer to drink, Shakspeare always uses the word as denoting that part of the helmet, which, when raised up, exposed the face of the wearer: and such was the popular signification of the word in his time.-MALONE. Ham. His beard was grizzl❜d? no? Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, Ham. If it assume my noble father's person, All. Our duty to your honour. Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell. [Exeunt HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt some foul play: 'would, the night were come! Till then sit still, my soul: Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. SCENE III. A Room in Polonius' House. Enter LAERTES and OPHelia. Laer. My necessaries are embark'd; farewell: And, sister, as the winds give benefit, And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me hear from you. Oph. Do you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, [Exit. The pérfume and suppliance of a minute ;* No more. No more but SO ? Think it no more: For nature, crescent, does not grow alone Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now; As he in his particular act and place May give his saying deed; which is no further, Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; * The perfume and suppliance of a minute ;] i. e. What was supplied to us for a minute; or, as M. Mason supposes, "an amusement to fill up a vacant moment, and render it agreeable."-STEEVENS. In thews,] i. e. In sinews, muscular strength. And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch The virtue of his will:] Cautel is craft; the virtue of his will means, virtuous intentions.-M. MASON. y unmaster'd-] i. e. Licentious. his keep you in the rear, &c.] That is, do not advance so far as your affection would lead you.--JOHNSON. chariest-] i. e. Most cautious. |