What is't, but to be nothing else but mad? Queen. More matter, with lefs art. Pol. Madam, I fwear, I ufe no art at all. That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true, 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true; a foolish figure,---But farewel it; for I will ufe no art. Mad let us grant him then; and now remains That we find out the cause of this effect; Or rather fay, the caufe of this defect; For this effect, defective, comes by caufe; Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.--Perpend.--I have a daughter; have, while fhe is mine; Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, Hath given me this;. now gather, and furmife. [He opens a Letter, and reads.] "To the celeftial, and my foul's idol, the most "beatified (29)-Ophelia."-----That's an ill phrafe: (29) To the celeftal, and my ful's idol, the mot beautified Ophelia.] I have ventured at an emendation here, against the authority of all the copies; but, I hope, upon examination, it will appear probable and reafonable. The word beautified may carry two diftinct ideas, either as applied to a woman made up of artificial beauties (which our Poet afterwards calls, The harlot's cheek beautied with plaftring art) or as applied to a perfon rich in native charms. As, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona; And partly feeing you are beautified As Shakespeare has therefore chofe to use it in the latter acceptation, to exprefs natural comeliness; I cannot imagine, that, here, he would have excepted to the phrafe, and called' it a vile one. But a stronger objection ftill, in my mind, lyes against it. As celeftial and ful's idol are the introductory characteristies of Ophelia, what a dreadful anticlimax is it to defcend to fuch an epithet as beautified! On the other beatified is a vile phrase; but you shall hear These to her excellent white botom, thefe"--Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her ? Pol. Good Madam, stay a while, I will be faithful "Doubt thou the ftars are fire, "Doubt truth to be a liar, "But never doubt I love. [Reading. "Oh, dear Ophelia, I am ill at thefe numbers; I "have not art to reckon my groans; but that I "love thee best, oh most best, believe it. Adieu. This in obedience hath my daughter fhewn me; As they fell out by time, by means, and place, hand, beatified, as I have conjectured, raises the image; but Polonius might very well, as a Roman catholic, call it a vile phrafe, i c. favouring of prophanation; fince the epithet is peculiarly made an adjunct to the Virgin Mary's honour, and therefore ought not to be employed in the praise of a mere mortal. Again, though beautified, perhaps, is no where elfe applied to an earthly beauty, yet the fame rapturous ideas are employed in terms purely fynonymous. No Valentine indeed for facred Sylvia. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Even the; and is he not a heavenly faint? Call her divine. My vows were earthly, thou a heavenly love. Ibid. Love's Labour's loft. Celestial as thou art, O pardon, Love, this wrong; Ibid. And Beaumont and Fletcher, I remember, in A Wife for a Month, make a lover subscribe his letter to his mistress, thus ; -To the bieft Evanthe. King. But how has the received his love? King. As of a man faithful and honourable. When I had feen this hot love on the wing, Before my daughter told me :) what might you, Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb, Thence to a watching, thence into a weakness, King. Do you think this?" Queen. It may be very likely. Pol. Hath there been such a time, I'd fain know That I have pofitively faid, 'tis fo, When it proved otherwife? King. Not that I know. [that, Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwise. [Pointing to his Head and Shoulder. If circumftances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed King, How may we try it further? Pol. You know fometimes he walks four hours Here in the lobby. Queen. So he does indeed. [together Pol. At fuch a time I'll loose my daughter to him; Be you and I behind an arras then, Mark the encounter: if he love her not, And be not from his reason fallen thereon, But keep a farm and carters. King. We will try it. Enter HAMLET, reading. Queen. But look where fadly the poor wretch comes reading. Pol. Away, I do befeech you, both away. I'll board him prefently. [Exeunt King and Queen Oh, give me leave.----How does my good Lord Hamlet? Ham. Well, God o' mercy. Pol. Do you know me, my Lord? Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. Ham. Then I would you were fo honest a man. Ham. Ay, Sir; to be honeft, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand. Pol. That's very true, my Lord. Ham. For if the fun breed maggots in a dead dog, Being a good kiffing carrion--- Have you a daughter? Pol. I have, my Lord. Ham. Let her not walk i' th' fun; conception is a bleffing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to’t. Pol. How fay you by that? ftill harping on my daughter! Yet he knew me not at first; he said, I was a fish, monger. He is far gone; and truly, in my youth, Ham. Words, words, words. Pol. What is the matter, my Lord? [Afide. Pol. I mean the matter that you read, my Lord. Ham. Slanders, Sir: for the fatirical flave fays here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plumb-tree gum: and that they have a plentiful lack of wit; together with most weak hams. All which, Sir, tho' I mof powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus fet down; for yourself, Sir, fhall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward. Pal. Tho' this be madness, yet there's method in't. Pol. Indeed, that's out o' th' air :----- My honourable Lord, I will must humbly Ham. You cannot, Sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal, except my life. |