The breathi no sooner left his father's body,
But that his wildness, mortified in him,
Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment,
Consideration, like an angel came,
And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him,
Leaving his body as a Paradise,
T envelop and contain celestial spirits.
Never was such a sudden scholar made :
Never came reformation in a flood

With such a ready current, scouring fauits :
Nor ever hydra-headed Wilfulness
So soon did lose his seat, and all at once,
As in this king.

Ely. We're blessed in the change.

Cant. Hear him but reason in divinity,
And, all admiring, with an inward wish
You would desire the king were made a prelate.
Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
You'd say, it had been all in all his study.
List his discourse of

you

shall hear A fearful battle render'd you in music. Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose Familiar as liis garter. When he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still ; And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, T-steal his sweet and honey'd sentences : So that the art and practic part of life Must be the mistress of this theoric. Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it, Since his addiction was to courses vain ; His companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow; His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports ; And never noted in him any study, Any retirement, any sequestration From open haunts and popularity. .

Ely. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle, And wholesome berries thrive, and ripen best, Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality : And so the Prince obscur'd his contemplation Under the veil of wildness ; which, no doubt,

war, and

Grew like a summer grass, fastest by night,
Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

Cant. It must be so: for miracles are ceas'd :
And therefore we must needs admit the means,
How things are perfected.

SHAKSPEARE.

CHAP. XIII.

HAMLET AND HORATIO. Hor. Hail to your lordship!

Ham. I am glad to see you well. Horatio or I do forget myself,

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend : I'll change that name with

you: And what makes you from Wittenberg, Horatio ?

Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.

Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so! Nor shall

you

do mine car that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself." I know you are no truant ;
But what is your affair in Elsinoor?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's fun'ral.

Ham. I pray thee do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio ; the funeral bak'd meats o
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my direst foe in Heav'n,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio !
My father-

-Methinks I see my father.
Hor. Oh where, my lord?
Ham. In mind's eye,

Horatio.
Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king.

Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

my

Ham. Saw! who?
Hor. My lord, the king your father. S!
Ham. The king my father!

Hor. Season your admiration but a while
With an attentive ear; till I deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For Heav'n's love, let me hear! O

Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd: A figure like your father,
Arın'd at all points exactly, cap à pié,
Appears before them, and with solenın march
Goes slow and stately by them; thrice he walk'd
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length ; while they (distill’d
Almost to jelly with th' effect of fear)
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver’d, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew

your

father : These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this? Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. Ham. Did you not speak to it? · Hor. My lord, I did ; But answer made it none. Yet once methought It lifted up it's head, and did address Itself to motion, like as it would speak, But even then the morning cock crew loud ; And at the sound it shrunk ip haste away, And vanish'd from our sight.

Ham"Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true :
Aud we did think it writ down in our duty,
To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sir, but this troubles me.
Hold you the wateh to night?

Mar. and Ber. We do, my lord,
Ham. Arm’d, say you?
Hor. Arm'd, my lord.
Ham. From top to toe?
Hor, My lord, from head to foot.
Ham. Then saw you not his face?
Hor. O yes, my lord: he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?
Hor. A countnance more in sorrow than in anger.
Ham. Pale, or red?
Hor. Nay, very pale.
Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you?
Hor. Most constantly.
Ham. I would I. had been there!
Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.
Ham. Very like. Staid it long?
Hor. While one with mod'sate baste miglit tell a hundred.
Ham. His beard was grisled ?-no.

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, and
A sable silver'd.

Ham. I'll watch to night ; perchance 'twill walk again.
Hor.' I warrant you it will.

Ham. If it assumes my noble father's person, o
I'll speak to it, though Hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace.

I

pray you,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be ten'ble in your silence still:
And whatsoever shall befal to night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue :
I will requite your love: so fare ye

well. Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve

SHAKSREARE.

l'll visit you.

CHAP. XIV.

BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.

Cas, Will you go see the order of the course ?
Bru. Not I.
Cus. I pray you, do.

Bru. I anı not gamesome; I do lack some part
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony;
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires :

I'll leave yoii.

Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late ;
I have not from your eyes that gentleness,
And show of love, as I was wont to have;
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
Over your friend that loves you.

Brú. Cassius,
Be not deceiv'd : if I have veil'd my luok,
I turn the trouble of my countenance
Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviour ;
But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd,
Among which number, Cassius, be you one;
Nor construe any farther my neglect,

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
Forgets the show of love to other men.

Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion ; By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?

Bru. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,
But by reflection from some other thing.

Cas. Tis just.
And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
That you

have no such mirror as will turn
Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome
(Except immortal Cæsar), speaking of Brutus,
And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.

Bru. Into wbat dangers wouid you lead me, Cassius, That you

would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?

Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepard to hear; And since you know you cannot see yourself