reply, so wrapt in her thoughts that all recollection of the king's and Polonius's presence might have left her: in short, the words might have been spoken in mere vacancy. If she did not know the king and her father were watching, of course the words were simple sincerity and truth; or, taken by surprise by the question, and feeling herself to be an unwilling instrument in something that was going on, while, though her own motive was pure, she was at a loss how to explain it, she may have given a reply which she knew to be false in the desire to clear herself of complicity in what Hamlet would certainly think mean and despicable. or worse is probably Hamlet's opinion for the moment, but that he banishes the thought is curiously proved by the tender passage which follows; for, after sternly rebuking Polonius, Hamlet may be said to excuse himself by implication, and to ask pardon indirectly for the seeming reproach. "Be thou as chaste," he says, as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny."

This

And now Hamlet's excitement reaches its greatest height. Goaded within and without, nay, dragged even by his own feelings in two opposite directions, in each of which he sus

pects he may have gone too far under the eyes of malignant witnesses, he is maddened by the thought that they are still observing him, and as usual, half in wild exultation, half by design, begins to pour forth more and more extravagant reproaches on his kind. He must not commit himself to his love, nor unbosom his hate, nor has he a moment's pause in which to set in order a contrived display of random lunacy. As usual passion, and preconceived gloomy broodings abundantly supply him with declamation which may indicate a deep meaning or be mere madness according to the ears that hear it, while through all his bitter ravings there is visible the anguish of a lover forced to be cruel, and of a destined avenger almost beside himself with the horrors of his provocation and his task. The shafts fly wildly, and are tipped with cynic poison; the bow from which they are sped is a strong and constant though anxious nature, steadily, though with infinite excitement, bent upon the one great purpose fate has imposed upon it. The fitful excesses of his closing speech are the twangings of the bow from which the arrow of avenging destiny shall one day fly straight to the mark.

25

60

Such was the very armour he had on
When he the ambitious Norway combated;
So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,2
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
'Tis strange.

Mar. Thus twice before, and jump3 at this dead hour,

With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not;

But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. [Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he

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that knows, Why this same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subject of the land; And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war; Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task

That can I; Our last king,

At least, the whisper goes so.
Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
Dar'd to the combat: in which our valiant
Hamlet-

For so this side of our known world esteem'd him

Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd compact,

Well ratified by law and heraldry,
Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
Which he stood seiz'd of" to the conqueror:
Against the which, a moiety competent
Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,

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94

99

And carriage of the article design'd,
His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved1 mettle hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a stomach 2 in't: which is no other-
As it doth well appear unto our state-
But to recover of us, by strong hand
And terms compulsative, those foresaid lands
So by his father lost: and this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations,
The source of this our watch, and the chief head
Of this post-haste and romage3 in the land.
Ber. I think it be no other but e'en so:
Well may it sort, that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch; so like the
king

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We do it wrong, being so majestical,
To offer it the show of violence;
[For it is, as the air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.]
Ber. It was about to speak when the cock crew.
Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, 149
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confíne: and of the truth herein
This present object made probation.

Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,

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Nofairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm; So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it.

But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill:
Break we our watch up: and, by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen to-night
Unto young Hamlet: for, upon my life,, 170
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him:
[Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

Mar. Let's do 't, I pray; and I this morning know

Where we shall find him most convenient.]

[Exeunt.

Romage, disturbance.

4 The moist star, i.e. the moon.

Happily, haply.

• Extravagant, wandering.

7 Takes, bewitches.