Ham. My mother father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh, and, fo, my mother. Come, for England.

[Exit. King. Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard;

Delay it not, I'll have him hence to night.
Away, for every thing is feal'd and done

That elfe leans on th' affair; pray you, make hafte.

[Exeunt Rof. and Guild. And, England! if my love thou hold'st at ought,' (57) As my great power thereof may give thee fenfe, Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red After the Danish fword, and thy free awe Pays homage to us; thou may't not coldly fet Our fovereign procefs, which imports at full, By letters congruing to that effect,

The prefent death of Hamlet. Do it, England:

}

(57) And, England, if my Love thou hold'st at Aught,
As my great Pow'r thereof may give thee Senfe,
Since yet thy Cicatrice looks raw and red
After the Danish Sword, and thy free Awe

Pays homage to us ;] This is the only Paffage in the Play, from which one might expect to trace the Date of the Action of it: but, I'm afraid, our Author, according to his ufual Licence, plays faft and loofe with Time. England is here fuppos'd to have been conquer'd by the Danes, and to be a Homager to that State. The Chronology of the Danish Affairs is wholly uncertain, till we come to the Reign of Ivarus about the Year 870. And tis plain from Saxo Grammaticus, that the Time, in which Amlethus liv'd, was fome Generations earlier than the Period of Christianity. And the Letters, which the Danish King's Mef fengers carried over to England, were wooden Tablets. Literas ligno infculptas (nàm id celebre quondam genus Chartarum erat) fecum geftantes, quibus. Britannorum regi tranfmiffi fibi juvenis Occifio mandabatur. Such a Sort of Mandate implies, that the English King was either link'd in the dearest Amity to the Dane, or in Subjection to him.. But what then fhall we do with our own home Chronicles? They are express, that the Danes never fet Footing on our Coast till the 8th Century. They infested us for fome Time in a piratical Way, then made a Defcent and conquer'd part of the Country: and about the Year 800, King Egbert is faid to have fubmitted to a Tribute, call'd Dane-gelt: a Tax of 12d on every Hide of Land through the whole Nation. But our Authors differ about this Dane-gelt: whether it was a Tax paid, to cbtain good Terms of the Danes; or levied by our Kings towards the Charge of Defences, to repel the Invafions of the Danes.

For like the hectick in my blood he rages,

And thou must cure me; 'till I know 'tis done,
How-e'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin.

[Exit.

SCENE, a CAMP, on the Frontiers of Denmark.

Enter Fortinbras, with an Army.

For. G. Tell hita, that, by his license, Fortinbras

O, Captain, from me, greet the Danish King;

Claims the conveyance of a promis'd March
Over his Realm. You know the rendevouz.!
If that his Majefty would ought with us,

We fhall exprefs our duty in his eye,

And let him know fo.

Capt. I will do't, my lord..

For. Go foftly on.

;܀

162

[Exit Fortinbras, with the Army.

Enter Hamlet, Rofincrantz, Guildenstern, &c.

Ham. Good Sir, whofe Powers are thefe ?

Capt. They are of Norway, Sir.

Ham. How purpos'd, Sir, I pray you?
Capt. Againft fome part of Poland.

.

Ham. Who commands them, Sir?

Capt. The nephew of old Norway, Fortinbras.
Ham. Goes it againft the main of Poland, Sirenzet

Or for fome frontier?

Capt. Truly to speak it, and with no addition, We go to gain a little patch of ground,

That hath in it no profit but the name.

To pay five ducats

five, I would not farm it;

Nor will it yield to Norway, or the Pole,

A ranker rate, fhould it be fold in fee.

- A

Ham. Why, then the Polacke never will defend it.

Capt. Yes, 'tis already garrifon'd.

:

Ham. Two thousand fouls, and twenty thousand du

en, cats,

Will not debate thè queftion of this straw

This is th' impofthume of much wealth and ६

That inward breaks, and fhews no caufe without
Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, Sir,,

Cap. God b'w'ye, Sir.

Rof. Will't pleafe you go, my lord?

Ham, I'll be with you ftrait, go a little before. [Exeunt.
Manet Hamlet.

How all occafions do inform against me,
And fpur my dull revenge? what is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time,
Be but to fleep and feed? a beaft, no more.
Sure, he that made us with fuch large difcourfe, (58)
Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and god-like reafon

To ruft in us unus'd. Now whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or fome craven fcruple

Of thinking too precifely on th' event,

(A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom, And ever three parts coward:) I do not know

Why yet I live to fay this thing's 'to do,

Sith I have caufe, and will, and ftrength, and means.

To do't. Examples, grofs as earth, exhort me;
Witness this army of fuch mafs and charge,

Led by a delicate and tender Prince,
Whofe fpirit, with divine ambition puft,
Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Expofing what is mortal and unfure
To all that fortune, death and danger dare,

(58) Sure, he that made us with fuch large Difcourfe,
Looking before and after.] This is an Expreffion purely Homeric;
Οἷς δ' ὁ γέρων μετέησιν, ἅμα ΠΡΟΣΣΩ & ΟΠΙΣΣΩ
Λεύσσεις,

And again;

Iliad. y. ver. 109.

ὁ γας οι δρα ΠΡΟΣΣΩ Α ΟΠΙΣΣΩ.

Iliad. 6. ver. 250.

The short Scholiaft on the last Paffage gives us a Comment, that very aptly explains our Author's Phrafe. Συνετῖ γ ανδρός εςι, τα μέλλοντα τοῖς γεγενημένοις αρμόζεθαι, καὶ ὅπως ὁρᾶν τα επόμμα. For it is the part of an understanding Man to connect the Reflection of Events to "come with fuch as have pafs'd, and fo to foresee what fhall follow." This is, as our Author phrafes it, looking BEFORE and AFTER."

Ev'n for an egg-fhell. "Tis not to be great,
Never to ftir without great argument ;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,

When Honour's at the ftake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother ftain'd,
(Excitements of my reafon and my blood)
And let all fleep; while, to my fhame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men ;
That for a fantafie and trick of fame

Go to their Graves like beds; fight for a Plot,
Whereon the numbers cannot try the caufe,
Which is not tomb enough and continent

. เว

To hide the flain? O, then, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth.

SCENE changes to a Palace,

Enter Queen, Horatio, and a Gentleman.

Queen. I

Will not speak with her.

Gent. She is importunate,

Indeed, distract; her mood will needs be pitied.

Queen. What would fhe have?

77

[Exit.

Gent. She speaks much of her father; fays, the hears, There's tricks i'th' world; and hems, and beats her heart; Spurns enviously at ftraws; fpeaks things in doubt, That carry but half fenfe: her fpeech is nothing,

Yet the unfhaped 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 geftures yield them, Indeed, would make one think, there might be thought; Tho nothing fure, yet much unhappily.

Hor. 'Twere good the were fpoken with, for fhe may ftrow,

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
Let her come in..

Queen. To my fick foul, as fin's true nature is,
Each Toy feems prologue to fome great Amifs;

So

So full of artlefs jealoufie is guilt,

It fpills it felf, in fearing to be fpilt.

By

Enter Ophelia, distracted,

Oph. Where is the beauteous. Majefty of Denmark?
Queen. How now, Ophelia ?

Oph. How Should I your true Love know from another

one ?

bis cockle hat and staff, and his fandal fhoon. [Singing. Queen. Alas, fweet lady; what imports this fong? Oph. Say you? nay, pray you, mark.

He's dead and gone, lady, he is dead and gone;
At his head a grafs-green turf, at bis heels a stone.

Enter King.

Queen. Nay, but Ophelia

Oph. Pray you, mark.

White bis forowd as the mountain fnow, Queen. Alas, look here, my lord.

Oph. Larded all with fweet flowers:

Which bewept to the Grave did go

With true love Showers.

King. How do ye, pretty lady?

Opb. Well, God dil'd you! They fay, the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table! (59) King. Conceit upon her father.

Oph. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, fay you this:

To morrow is St. Valentine's day, all in the morn betime,

(59) Well, God dild you !] i. e. Heaven reward you. We meet with this Expreffion a little otherwife writ in Macbeth;

Herein I teach you

How you should bid God-eyld us for our Pains,

And thank us for your Trouble.

But, in Antony, we have the phrase in plain and genuine English.
Tend me to night two hours, I ask no more,

And the Gods yield you for't!

So, Sir John Grey in a Letter, in Ahmole's Appendix to his Account of the Garter, Numb, 46. The King of his gracious Lordshipe, God yeld kim, bafe chofen me to be owne of his Brethrene of the Knyghts of the

Gartier.

And