If damned custom have not brass'd it so

That it be proof and bulwark against sense.1

Queen. What have I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tongue In noise so rude against me?

Hamlet.

Such an act
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;
Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows
As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed
As from the body of contraction 2 plucks
The very soul, and sweet religion makes

A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow;
Yea, this solidity and compound mass,3
With tristful visage, as against the doom,
Is thought-sick at the act.

Queen.

Ah me, what act,

That roars so loud, and thunders in the index ?4

Hamlet. Look here, upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment 5 of two brothers.
See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove 8 himself;
An eye like Mars,9 to threaten and command;

1 Feeling.

2 The marriage contract.

3 " Solidity and compound mass," i. e., the solid earth.

66

4 Shakespeare uses index for title or prologue. "The index was for

merly placed at the beginning of a book, not at the end, as now."-ED

WARDS.

5 “Counterfeit presentment,” i.e., portrait or likeness.

6 See Note 6, p. 31.

7 The face and head.

8 " 'Jupiter, Jove, or Zeus, king of the gods, supreme ruler of the universe, . . the most prominent of all the Olympian divinities: the others were obliged to submit to his will, and trembled at his all-powerful nod." — GUERBER: Myths of Greece and Rome, p. 39.

9 See Note 6, p. 74.

A station1 like the herald Mercury 2
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man:

This was your husband. Look you now what follows.
Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten 4 on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?
You cannot call it love; for at your age
The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment
Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,
Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense
Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,

Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd 5
But it reserv'd some quantity of choice,

To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman blind ?¤
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans 7 all,
Or but a sickly part of one true sense

Could not so mope.8

Queen.

O Hamlet, speak no more!

Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;

And there I see such black and grained spots

1 Attitude; presence.

2 44 Mercury," son of Jupiter and Maia, messenger of the gods, and patron of travelers, merchants, etc., was remarkable for his agility and graceful

As will not leave their tinct.1

These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears:
No more, sweet Hamlet !

Hamlet.

A murderer and a villain;

A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; 2
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket!

Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,

You heavenly guards !—What would your gracious figure?
Queen. Alas, he's mad!

Hamlet. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,

That, laps'd in time and passion,3 lets go by

The important acting of your dread command ?
O, say!

Ghost. Do not forget. This visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul;
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
Speak to her, Hamlet.

Hamlet.

How is it with you, lady?

“Such black and grained spots,” etc., i.e., stains so thoroughly ingrained that they cannot be removed.

2 "A vice of kings," i.e., a buffoon king; alluding to the vice, or clown, in the old Moral Plays, in which vice and virtue were frequently personated.

3 " Laps'd in time and passion" is thus explained by Dr. Johnson: "that having suffered time to slip, and passion to cool, lets go by," etc.

4 Imagination.

Queen. Alas, how is't with you,

That you do bend your eye on vacancy,

And with the incorporal1 air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,2
Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
Hamlet. On him, on him!

Look you, how pale he glares!

His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable.3- Do not look upon me;
Lest with this piteous action you convert

My stern effects:4 then what I have to do

Will want true color; tears, perchance, for blood.
Queen. To whom do you speak this ?
Hamlet.

Do you see nothing there?

Queen. Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

Hamlet. Nor did you nothing hear?

Queen.

No, nothing but ourselves.

Hamlet. Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!

My father, in his habit as he liv'd!

Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!

4

6

Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain: This bodiless creation ecstasy

[Exit Ghost.

My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,

And makes as healthful music. It is not madness

That I have utter'd: bring me to the test,

1 Bodiless.

24 ''Life in excrements," i.e., in such excrescences as hair, nails, etc., which have no life in themselves.

* Susceptible.

♦ Purposes or resolutions.

And I the matter will

Would gambol from.

reword, which madness

Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass, but my madness, speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to Heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds,
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;
For in the fatness of these pursy times 1
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,

Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.

Queen. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.

Hamlet. O, throw away the worser part of it,

And live the purer with the other half.

Good night; but go not to mine uncle's bed:

Assume a virtue, if you have it not.

That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,

That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock or livery,

That aptly is put on.2

For use almost can change the stamp of nature,

And either master the devil, or throw him out

With wondrous potency. Once more, good night;
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,

I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,

[Pointing to Polonius.

1 "Fatness of these pursy times," i.e., times grown insolent through gross indulgence.

2 "That monster, custom," etc., i. e. (to paraphrase the passage), that monster, custom, which by mere repetition" destroys in us the sense of evil in our bad actions, is an angel in this, that by the same habitual use it makes easy the practice of that which is good.