s Or to take arms against a fea of troubles,
And by oppofing end them ?-To die,-to fleep
No more; and by a fleep, to fay, we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to; 'tis a confummation
Devoutly to be wifh'd. To dieto sleep-
To fleep? perchance, to dream. Ay, there's the
rub;

For in that fleep of Death what dreams may come,
When we have fhuffled off this mortal coil,
Muft give us paufe. There's the respect,
That makes Calamity of fo long life.

For who would bear 7 the whips and fcorns of time,
Th' oppreffor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

5 Or to take arms against A SEA of troubles,] Without question Shakespear wrote,

against ASSAIL of troubles.

i. e. affault.

WARB.

Mr. Pope propofed fiege. I know not why there fhould be fo much folicitude about this metaphor. Shakespeare breaks his metaphors often, and in this defultory speech there was lefs need of preferving them.

—mortal coil,] i. e. turmoil, bustle. WARB. 7 -the whips and fcorns of TIME,] The evils here complained of are not the product of time or duration fimply, but of a We corrupted age or manners. may be fure, then, that ShakeSpear wrote,

-the whips and fcorns OF

The

I doubt whether the corruption of this paffage is not more than the editor has fufpected. Whips and fcorns have no great connexion with one another, or with time; whips and Scorns are evils of very different magnitude, and though at all times fcorn may be endured, yet the times that put men ordinarily in danger of whips, are very rare. FalAtaff has faid, that the courtiers would whip him with their `quick wits; but I know not that whip can be used for a fcoff or infult, unless its meaning be fixed by the whole expreffion.

I am afraid left I should venture too far in correcting this paffage. If chips be retained, we may read,

For who would bear the whips

and fcorns of tyrants. But I think that quip, a fneer, a farcafm, a contemptuous jest, is the proper word, as fuiting very exactly with fcorn. What then

muft

The pang of defpis'd love, the law's delay,
The infolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes;
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardles bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of fomething after death,
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No traveller returns, puzzles the will;
And makes us rather bear thofe ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus confcience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of refolution

Is ficklied o'er with the pale caft of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action-Soft you, now!
[Seeing Ophelia with a book.
The fair Ophelia ? 9 Nymph, in thy orifons
Be all my fins remembred.

Opb. Good my Lord,

How does your Honour for this many a day?
Ham. I humbly thank you, well.

Opb. My Lord, I have remembrances of yours,

must be done with time, it suits no better with the new reading than with the old, and tyrant is an image too bulky and serious. I read, but not confidently,

For who would bear the quips

and forns f title. It may be e narked, that Hamlet, in his enumeration of miferies, forgets, whether pro perly or not, that he is a prince, and mentions many evils to which inferior ftations only are exposed.

VOL. VIII. ·

Р

8 To groan and Sweat-] All the old copies have, to grunt and fweat. It is undoubtedly the true reading, but can scarcely be born by modern ears.

9-Nymph, in thy orifons, &c ] This is a touch of nature. Hamlet, at the fight of Ophelia, does not immediately recollect, that he is to perfonate madness, but makes her an addrefs grave and folemn, fuch as the foregoing meditation excited in his thoughts.

That

That I have longed long to re-deliver.

I

pray you, now receive them. 13Ham. No, I never gave you ought.

Oph. My honour'd Lord, you know right well, you did;

And with them words of fo fweet breath compas'd,
As made the things more rich; that perfume loft,
Take these again; for to the noble mind 4097156
Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind.
-There, my Lord.

Ham. Ha, ha! are you honeft?
Oph. My Lord,

Ham. Are you fair?

Opb. What means your Lordship?

Ham. That if you be honeft and fair, you should admit no difcourfe to your beauty.

Oph. Could beauty, my Lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will fooner transform honefty from what it is, to a bawd; than the force of honefty can tranflate beauty into its likeness. This was fometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.

Oph. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe fo. Ham. You fhould not have believed me. For virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock, but we shall relifh of it. I lov'd you not.

Oph. I was the more deceiv'd.
Ham. Get thee to a nunnery.

Why wouldst thou be a breeder of finners? I am myself indifferent ho

That if you be honest and fair, you should admit no difcourfe to your beauty.] This is the reading of all the modern editions, and is copied from the quarto. The folio reads, your honefly should admit no difcourfe to your beauty.

The true reading feems to be this, If you be honeft and fair, you should admit your honefty to no difcourfe with your beauty. This is the fenfe evidently required by the process of the converfation.

neft;

neft; but yet I could accufe me of such things, that it were better, my mother had not borne me. I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them fhape, or time to act. them in. What fhould fuch fellows, as I, do crawling between heav'n and earth? We are arrant knaves, believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.

Where's your father?

Oph. At home, my Lord.

Ham. Let the doors be fhut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own house. Farewel. Oph. Oh help him, you fweet heav'ns !

Ham. If thou doft marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Be thou as chafte as ice, as pure as fnow, thou shalt not efcape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, farewel; or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wife men know well enough, what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, and quickly too. Farewel.

Oph. Heav'nly powers reftore him!

Ham. I have heard of your painting too, well enough, God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you amble, and you

lifp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonnefs your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I fay, we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but To a one, fhall live; the reft fhall keep as they are.

nunnery, go.

[Exit Hamlet. Oph. Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, foldier's, fcholar's, eye, tongue, fword; Th' expectancy and rose of the fair State,

The glass of fashion, and the mould of form,
Th' obferv'd of all obfervers! Quite, quite down!
I am of ladies moft deject and wretched,
That fuck'd the hony of his musick vows:
Now fee that noble and moft fov'reign reason,
Like fweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh;
That unmatch'd form, and feature of blown youth,
Blafted with ecstasy. Oh, woe is me!

T' have seen what I have feen; fee what I fee.

King. Love! his affections do not that way tend,
'Nor what he fpake, tho' it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madness. Something's in his foul,
O'er which his melancholy fits on brood;
And, I do doubt, the hatch and the disclose
Will be fome danger, which, how to prevent,
I have in quick determination

Thus fet it down. He fhall with speed to England,
For the demand of our neglected Tribute:
Haply, the Seas and Countries different,

4 make your wantonnefs your ignerance. You mistake by wanton affectation, and pretend to miftake by ignorance.

5-the mould of form,] The model by whom all endeavoured to form themselves.