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 shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport, As if he had been loosed 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 7
Oph. He took me by the wrist, 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 such perusal of my face, As he would draw it. Long stay’d he so;
At last,-a little shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus waving up and down, He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound, As it did seem to shatter all his bulk,
And end his being : That done, he lets me go : And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; For out o'doors he went without their help, And, to the last, bended their light on me.
Pol. Come, go with me ; I will go seek the king. This is the very ecstasy of love ;
Whose violent property foredoes itself, And leads the will to desperate undertakings, As oft as any passion under heaven, That does afflict our natures. I am sorry,
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 denied His access to me.”
We are at a loss to explain this part of Hamlet's conduct
towards his sweet mistress, unless as the sad pantomime of separation ; love's mute farewell.
That his noble and sen
sitive mind entertained a sincere love to the beautiful and
virtuous girl, there can be no doubt.
Surely it must have
