This must be known; which, being kept clofe, might move 9 More grief to hide, than hate to utter love. Come. SCENE II. [Exeunt. A Room in the Castle. Enter King, Queen, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants. King. Welcome, dear Rofencrantz, and Guildenstern! Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need, we have to use you, did provoke Our hafty fending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; fo I call it, Since nor the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was: What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from the understanding of himself, I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, That,-being of fo young days brought up with him; And, fince, fo neighbour'd to his youth and humour', life caft commonly beyond themselves, let their cunning go farther than reafon can attend it. This is always the fault of a little mind, made artful by long commerce with the world. JOHNSON. The quartos read-By beaven, it is as proper, &c. STEEVENS. In Decker's Wonderful Yeare, 4to. 1603, we find an expreffion fimilar to that in the text. "Now the thirftie citizen cafts beyond the moone." MALONE. 9 This must be known; which, being kept clofe, might move More grief to bide, than bate to utter love.] i. e. This must be made known to the king, for (being kept fecret) the hiding Hamlet's love might occafion more mischief to us from him and the queen, than the uttering or revealing of it will occafion hate and refentment from Hamlet. The poet's ill and obfcure expreffion feems to have been caused by his affectation of concluding the fcene with a couplet. Hanmer reads, More grief to hide hate, than to utter love. JOHNSON. R 3 STEEVENS. That That you vouchfafe your reft here in our court Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; And, fure I am, two men there are not living, To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To fhew us fo much gentry 3, and good will, As to expend your time with us a while, Rof. Both your majefties Might, by the fovereign power you have of us, Guil. But we both obey; And here give up ourselves, in the full bent 5, To be commanded. King. Thanks, Rofencrantz, and gentle Guildenstern. Queen. Thanks, Guildenftern, and gentle Rofencrantz ; And I beseech you inftantly to visit My too much changed fon.-Go, fome of you, Guil. Heavens make our prefence, and our practices, Pleasant and helpful to him! Queen. Ay, amen! [Exeunt Ros. GUIL. and fome Attendants. 2 Whether aught, &c.] This line is omitted in the folio. STEEV. 3 To fhew us to much gentry-] Gentry, for complaifance. WARB. 4 For the fupply, &c.] That the hope which your arrrival has raifed may be completed by the defired effect. JOHNSON. 5 in the full bent,] The full bent is the utmost extremity of exertion. The allufion is to a bow bent as far as it will go. So afterwards in this play: "They fool me to the top of my bent." MALONE. Ent er Enter POLONIUS. Pol. The embaffadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully return'd. King. Thou ftill haft been the father of good news. Both to my God, and to my gracious king: 6 As it hath us'd to do,) that I have found King. O, fpeak of that; that do I long to hear. Pol. Give firft admittance to the embaffadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feaft". King. Thyfelf do grace to them, and bring them in. [Exit POLONIUS. He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found The head and fource of all your fon's distemper. Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main ; His father's death, and our o'er-hafty marrriage. Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND, and CORNE LIUS. King. Well, we fhall fift him.-Welcome, my good friends! Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway? Volt. Moft fair return of greetings, and defires. Upon our firft, he fent out to fupprefs His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd It was against your highnefs: Whereat griev'd,- Was falfely borne in hand,-fends out arrests the trail of policy-] The trail is the course of an animal pur« fued by the fcent. JOHNSON. 7 8 the fruit-] The defert after the meat. JOHNSON. See Vol. IV. p. 357, n. 6. MALONE. On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; 9 To give the affay of arms against your majefty. Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee'; With an entreaty, herein further fhewn, [gives a paperà King. It likes us well; And, at our more confider'd time, we'll read, Mean time, we thank you for your well-took labour: Go to your reft; at night we'll feaft together 2: Moft welcome home! [Exeunt VoL. and COR. Pol. This business is well ended. What 9 To give the affay-] To take the affay was a technical expreffion, originally applied to those who tafted wine for princes and great men. See Vol. VIII. p. 673, n. 5. MALONE. Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee;] Thus the folio. The quarto has-threefcore thousand. MALONE. Fee in this place fignifies reward, recompence. So in All's well that ends well: "Not helping, death's my fee; "But if I help, what do you promise me? The word is commonly ufed in Scotland, for wages, as we fay law yer's fee, physician's fee. STEEVENS. Fee is defined by Mintheu in his Dict. 1617, a reward. MALONE. 2 at night we'll feaft-] The king's intemperance is never fuffered to be forgotten. JOHNSON. 3 My liege, and madam, to expoftulate-] To expoflulate, for to enquire or difcufs. The ftrokes of humour in this fpeech are admirable. Polonius's character is that of a weak, pedant, minifter of ftate. His declamation is a fine fatire on the impertinent oratory then in vogue, which placed reafon in the formality of method, and wit in the jingle and play of words. With what art is he made to pride himself in his wit. That What majefty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night, night, and time is time, That be is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true, 'tis pity: And pity 'tis, 'tis true: A foolish figure, But farewel it,-. Were And how exquifitely does the poet ridicule the reafon in fashion, where he makes Polonius remark on Hamlet's madness: Though this be madness, yet there's method in't: As if method, which the wits of that age thought the most effential quality of a good difcourfe, would make amends for the madness. It was madness indeed, yet Polonius could comfort himself with this reflection, that at leaft it was method. It is certain Shakspeare excels in nothing more than in the preservation of his characters; To this life and variety of charater (lays our great poet in his admirable preface to Shakspeare,) we must add the wonderful prefervation of it. We have faid what is the character of Polonius; and it is allowed on all hands to be drawn with wonderful life and fpirit, yet the unity of it has been thought by fome to be grofsly violated in the excellent precepts and inftructions which Shakspeare makes his statesman give to his fon and fervant in the middle of the firft, and beginning of the fecond a&t. But I will venture to fay, thefe critics have not entered into the poet's art and addrefs in this particular. He had a mind to ornament his scenes with thofe fine leffons of focial life; but his Polonius was too weak to be author of them, though he was pedant enough to have met with them in his reading, and fop enough to And this the poet get them by heart, and retail them for his own. has finely fhewn us was the cafe, where, in the middle of Polonius's inftructions to his fervant, he makes him, though without having received any interruption, forget his leffon, and fay, And then, fir, does be this; He does-What was I about to say? I was about to fay fomething-where did I leave? The fervant replies, At, clofes in the confequence. This fets Polonius right, and he goes on, At, clofes in the confequence. -Ay marry, He clofes thus:-I know the gentleman, &c. which fhews the very words got by heart which he was repeating. Otherwife clafes in the confequence, which conveys no particular idea of the fubject he was upon, could never have made him recollect where he broke off. This is an extraordinary inftance of the poet's art, and attention to the preservation of character. WARBURTON. This account of the character of Polonius, though it fufficiently reconciles the feeming inconfiftency of fo much wifdom with fo much folly, does not perhaps correspond exactly to the ideas of our author. The |