Pol. 'Faith, no; as you may feason it in the charge.

You must not put another fcandal on him,

That he is open to incontinency;

That's not my meaning: but breathe his fault fo quaintly,

That they may seem the taints of liberty :

The flash and out-break of a fiery mind;
A favageness in unreclaimed blood,

Of general assault.

Rey. But, my good lord—

Pol. Wherefore fhould you do this?
Rey. Ay, my lord,

I would know that.

Pol. Marry, fir, here's my drift;
And, I believe, it is a fetch of warrant :
You laying these flight fullies on my fon,

As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'the working,
Mark you,

Your party in converse, him you would found,
Having ever seen, in the prenominate crimes,
The youth you breathe of, guilty be affur'd,
He clofes with you in this confequence;
Good fir, or fo; or friend, or gentleman,-
According to the phrafe, or the addition,
Of man and country.

Rey. Very good, my lord.

Pol. And then, fir, does he this,-He does-What was I about to say?-By the mafs, I was about to fay fomething:-Where did I leave?

Rey. At clofes in the confequence.

Pol. At clofes in the confequence,-Ay, marry:
He closes with you thus:-I know the gentleman;
I faw him yesterday, or t'other day,

Or then, or then; with fuch or fuch; and, as you fay,
There was he gaming; there o'ertook in his roufe;

There

There falling out at tennis: or, perchance,
I faw him enter fuch a boufe of fale,
(Videlicet, a brothel) or so forth.

See you now;

Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth:
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
With windlaces, and with affays of bias,
By indirections find directions out:

So, by my former lecture and advice,

Shall you my fon: You have me, have you not?
Rey. My lord, I have.

Pol. God be wi'you; fare you well.

Rey. Good my lord

Pol. Obferve his inclination is yourself.

Rey. I fhall, my lord.

Pol. And let him ply his musick.

Rey. Well, my lord.

Enter OPHELIA.

[Exit.

Pol. Farewell!-How now, Ophelia? what's the matter?
Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been fo affrighted!
Pol. With what, in the name of heaven?

Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd;
No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd,
Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle;
Pale as his fhirt; his knees knocking each other;
And with a look, fo piteous in purport,

As if he had been loofed out of hell,

To speak of horrors,—he comes before me.

Pol. Mad for thy love?

Oph. My lord, I do not know;

But, truly, I do fear it.

Pol. What said he?

Oph.

W.N.Gardiner del'etsc2

Hamlet.

Page.

33

Pub March 1798.by Edw Harding N98 Pall Mall.

Oph. He took me by the wrift, and held me hard;

Then goes he to the length of all his arm;

And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,

He falls to fuch perufal of my face,

As he would draw it. Long stay'd he fo:
At laft a little fhaking of mine arm,

And thrice his head thus waving up and down,-
He rais'd a figh, so piteous and profound,

As it did feem to fhatter all his bulk,

And end his being: That done, he lets me go;
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He feem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o'doors he went, without their helps,
And, to the laft, bended their light on me.

Pol. Come, go with me; I will go feek the king.
This is the very ecftacy of love;

Whofe violent property foredoes itself,

And leads the will to defperate undertakings,
As oft as any passion under heaven,

That does afflict our natures. I am forry

What, have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did command,
I did repel his letters, and deny'd

His accefs to me.

Pol. That hath made him mad.

I am forry, that with better heed and judgment,

I had not quoted him: I fear'd, he did but trifle,
And meant to wreck thee; but, befhrew my jealousy!
It feems, it is as proper to our age

To caft beyond ourselves in our opinions,

As it is common for the younger fort

To lack difcretion. Come, go we to the king:

This must be known; which, being kept close, might move

More grief to hide, than hate to utter love.

Come.

D

[Exeunt.

SCENE