Out of his fubjects: and we here dispatch Farewel, and let your hafte commend your duty. [Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius. And lofe your voice. What would'ft thou beg, Laertes, Laer. My dread lord, Your leave and favour to return to France; Yet now I must confefs, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again tow'rd France: I do beseech you, give him leave to go. King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes, time be thine; (2) This is the Pointing (2) Take thy fair hour, Laertes, time be thine, And thy fair Graces; Spend it at thy Will.] in both Mr. Pope's Editions; but the Poet's Meaning is loft by it, and the Clofe of the Sentence miferably flattened. The Pointing, İ have restored, is that of the beft Copies; and the Senfe this; "You << have my Leave to go, Laertes; make the fairest Uie you please of your Time, and fpend it at your Will with the fairest Graces you "are Mafter of." And And thy best graces fpend it at thy will. [Afide, Thou know'ft, 'tis common: all, that live, muft die; Paffing through nature to eternity. Ham. Ay, Madam, it is common. Queen. If it be, Why feems it fo particular with thee? Ham. Seems, Madam? nay, it is; I know not feems: 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary fuits of folemn black, To give these mourning duties to your father: To do obfequious forrow. But to perfevere As As any the most vulgar thing to fenfe, As of a father: for let the world take note, (3) And with no lefs Nobility of Love, Than that which dearest Father bears his Son, Do I impart towards you,] But what does the King impart? We want the Subftantive governed of the Verb. The King had declared Hamlet his immediate Succeffor; and with that Declaration, he muft mean, he imparts to him as noble a Love, as ever fond Father tendered to his own Son. I have ventured to make the Text conform with this Senfe. Manet Manet Hamlet. Ham. Oh, that this too-too-solid flesh would melt, That grows to feed; things rank, and grofs in nature, Hyperion to a fatyr: fo loving to my mother, (5) (4) Or that the Everlafting bad not fix'd His Cannon 'gainst Self-Slaughter !] The Generality of the Edi tions read thus, as if the Poet's Thought were, Or that the Almighty bad not planted his Artillery, his Refentment, or Arms of Vengeance, against Self-Murder. But the Word, which I restored to the Text, (and which was efpoufed by the accurate Mr. Hughes, who gave an Edition of this Play ;) is the Poet's true Reading. i. e. That he had not refrain'd Suicide by bis exprefs Law, and peremptory Prohibition. Miftakes are perpetually made in the old Editions of our Poet, be twixt those two Words, Cannon and Canon. (5) So loving to my Mother, That be permitted not the Winds of Heav'n Vifit her Face too roughly.] This is a fophifticated Reading, copied from the Players in fome of the modern Editions, for Want of Understanding the Poet, whofe Text is corrupt in the old Impreffions: All of which that I have had the fortune to fee, concur in reading; So loving to my Mother, That he might not beteene the Winds of Heav'n Beteene is a Corruption without doubt, but not fo inveterate a one, but that, by the Change of a fingle Letter, and the Separation of two Words mistakingly jumbled together, I am verily perfuaded, I have retrieved the Poet's Reading.- -That he might not let e'en the Winds of Heav'n, &c. That That he might not let e'en the winds of heav'n By what it fed on; yet, within a month, (O heav'n! a beaft, that wants difcourfe of reason, Ere yet the falt of most unrighteous tears But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue. Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus. Hor. Hail to your lordship! Ham. I am glad to fee you well; Horatio,or I do forget myfelf? Hor. The fame, my lord, and your poor fervant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Mar. My good lord Ham. I am very glad to fee you; good even, Sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? ̧ Hor. A truant difpofition, good my lord. Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so; Nor fhall you do mine ear that violence, To make it trufter of your own report Against yourself. I know, you are no truant ; But, what is your affair in Elfinoor? We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart. Hor. |