SCENE, a Royal Apartment.

Enter King and Queen, with ROSINCRANTZ, and

THER

GUILDENSTERN.

KING.

HERE'S matter in thefe fighs; these profound
heaves

You must tranflate; 'tis fit we understand them.
Where is your fon?

Queen. Bestow this place on us a little while. [To Ref. and Guild. who go outAh, my good Lord, what have I feen to-night? King, What, Gertrude? how does Hamlet? Queen. Mad as the feas, and wind, when both contend

Which is the mightier: in his lawlefs fit,
Behind the arras hearing fomething ftir,
He whips his rapier out, and cries, a rat!
And, in this brainifh apprehenfion, kills
The unfeen good old man..

King O heavy deed!

It had been fo with us, had we been there:
His liberty is full of threats to all,

To you yourself, to us, to every one.

Alas! how fhall this bloody deed be answered?

It will be laid to us, whofe providence

Should have kept fhort, reftrained, and out of haunt,
This mad young man. But fo much was our love,
We would not underftand what was moft fit
But, like the owner of a foul difeafe,
To keep it from divulging, let it feed
Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?

Queen. To draw apart the body he hath killed, O'er whom his very madness, like fome ore Among a mineral of metals bafe,

Shews itself pure. He weeps for what is done.
King. O Gertrude, cone away:

The fun no fooner fhall the mountains touch,
But we will thip him hence; and this vile deed
We muft, with all our majefty and skill,

Both countenance and excufe. Ho! Guildenstern!

Enter ROSINCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.

Friends both, go join you with fome further aid: Hamlet in madnefs hath Polonius flain,

And from his mother's closet hath he dragged him.. Go seek him out, fpeak fair, and bring the body Into the chapel. Pray you, hafte in this.

[Exe. Rof. and Guil.. Come, Gertrude, we'llcall up our wisest friends, (56).

(56) Gertrude, we'll call up our wifest friends

And let them know both what we mean to do,.

And what's untimely done.

Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,

As level as the cannon to his blank,

Tranfports its poifoned shot, may mifs dur name, And hit the woundlefs air.O, come away;] Mr Pope takes notice, that I replace fome verses that were imperfect (and, though of a modern date, feem to be genuine) by inferting two words. But to fee what an accurate and faithful collator he is! I produced these verses in my Shakespeare Restored, from a Quarto edition of Hamlet printed in 1637, and happened to fay, that they had not the authority of any earlier date in print that I knew of, than that Quarto. Upon the ftrength of this Mr Pope comes and calls the lines modern, though they are in the Quartos of 1605 and 1611, which I had not then feen, but both of which Mr Pope pretends to have collated. The verfes carry the very stamp of Shakespeare upon them. The coin, indeed, has been clipt from our first receiving it; but is not fo diminished, but that with a small afliftance we may

And let them know both what we mean to do,
And what's untimely done. For, haply, Slander
(Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,
As level as the cannon to his blank,

Tranfports its poifoned fhot) may miss our name,
And hit the woundlefs air.-O, come away;

My foul is full of discord and dismay.

Enter HAMLET.

Ham. Safely ftowed.

[Exeunt.

Gentlemen within.] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! -Ham. What noife? who calls on Hamlet? Oh, here they come.

Enter ROSINCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.

Rof. What have you done, my Lord, with the dead body?

Ham. Compounded it with duft, whereto 'tis kin Rof. Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence, And bear it to the chapel.

hope to make it pafs current. 'Tis plain the fenfe, as well as one of the verfes, is defective; and a fentence beginning with the relative whof, without any preceding fubftantive to which it can refer, it is as plain that the latter part of the hemiftich fell out in the printing, or was fo blind in the manufcript as not to be guessed at, and therefore neceffarily came to be omitted. We have not, indeed, fo much as the footsteps, or traces, of a corrupted reading to lead to an emendation; nor any means of reftoring what is loft, but 'conjecture. I am far from affirming, therefore, that I have given the Poet's very words; but the fupplement is fuch as the fentiment naturally feems to demand. The Poet has the fame thought concerning the diffusive powers of flander in another of his plays:

No, 'tis flander,

Whofe edge is fharper than the fword, whofe tongue
Out-venoms all the worms of Nile, whofe breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie

All corners of the world.

Cymbeline

Ham. Do not believe it.

Rof. Believe what?

mine own.

Ham. That I can keep your counfel, and not Befides, to be demanded of a fpunge, what replication fhould be made by the fon of a King?

Ref. Take you me for a fpunge, my Lord?

Ham. Ay, Sir, that fokes up the King's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But fuch officers do the King best service in the end; he keeps them like an apple in the corner of his jaw, first mouthed, to be laft fwallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but fqueezing you, and, fpunge, you fhall be dry again.

Rof. I understand you not, my Lord.

Ham. I am glad of it; a knavifh fpeech fleeps in a foolish ear.

Rof. My Lord, you must tell us where the body. is, and go with us to the King.

Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not with the body. The King is a thing Guil. A thing, my Lord?

Ham. Of nothing: bring me to him; hide fox, and all after.

Enter King.

[Exeunt.

King. I've fent to feek him, and to find the body;
How dangerous is it that this man goes loofe!
Yet must not we put the ftrong law on him;
He's loved of the distracted multitude,

Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes:
And where 'tis fo, th' offender's fcourge is weighed,
But never the offence. To bear all imooth,
This fudden fending him away must seem
Deliberate paufe: diseases, defp'rate grown,
By defperate appliance are relieved,
Or not at all.

Enter ROSINCRANTZ.

How now? what hath befallen?

Rof. Where the dead body is bestowed, my Lord, We cannot get from him.

King. But where is he?

Rof. Without, my Lord, guarded to know your pleasure.

King. Bring him before us.

Rof. Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my Lord.
Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN.

King. Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Ham. At fupper.

King. At fupper? where?

Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten a certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only Emperor for diet. We fat all creatures elfe to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service, two dishes but to one table; that's the end.

King. Alas, alas!

Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath ate of a King, eat of the fifh that hath fed of that

worm.

King. What doft thou mean by this?

Ham. Nothing, but to fhew you how a King may go a progrefs through the guts of a beggar. King. Where is Polonius?

Ham. In Heaven, fend thither to fee. If your meffenger find him not there, feek him i' th' other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you fhall nofe him as you go up the ftairs into the lobby.

King. Go feek him there.