old dramatic
performances.'--_Sh. Lex._]

[Footnote 3: _away from_: inconsistent with.]

[Footnote 4: --that which is deserving of scorn.]

[Footnote 5: _impression_, as on wax. Some would persuade us that
Shakspere's own plays do not do this; but such critics take the
_accidents_ or circumstances of a time for the _body_ of it--the clothes
for the person. _Human_ nature is 'Nature,' however _dressed_.

There should be a comma after 'Age.']

[Footnote 6: 'laggingly represented'--A word belonging to _time_ is
substituted for a word belonging to _space_:--'this over-done, or
inadequately effected'; 'this over-done, or under-done.']

[Footnote 7: 'and the judgment of such a one.' '_the which_' seems
equivalent to _and--such_.]

[Footnote 8: 'must, you will grant.']

[Footnote 9: Shakspere may here be playing with a false derivation, as I
was myself when the true was pointed out to me--fancying _abominable_
derived from _ab_ and _homo_. If so, then he means by the phrase: 'they
imitated humanity so from the nature of man, so _inhumanly_.']

[Footnote 10: tolerably.]

[Footnote 11: 'Sir' _not in Q._]

[Footnote 12: Shakspere must have himself suffered from such clowns:
Coleridge thinks some of their _gag_ has crept into his print.]

[Footnote 13: Here follow in the _1st Q._ several specimens of such a
clown's foolish jests and behaviour.]

[Page 134]

_Enter Polonius, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne_.[1]
[Sidenote: _Guyldensterne, & Rosencraus_.]

How now my Lord,
Will the King heare this peece of Worke?

_Pol_. And the Queene too, and that presently.[2]

_Ham_. Bid the Players make hast.

_Exit Polonius_.[3]

Will you two helpe to hasten them?[4]

_Both_. We will my Lord. _Exeunt_.
[Sidenote: _Ros_. I my Lord. _Exeunt they two_.]

_Enter Horatio_[5]

_Ham_. What hoa, _Horatio_? [Sidenote: What howe,]

_Hora_. Heere sweet Lord, at your Seruice.

[Sidenote: 26] _Ham_.[7] _Horatio_, thou art eene as iust a man
As ere my Conversation coap'd withall.

_Hora_. O my deere Lord.[6]

_Ham_.[7] Nay do not thinke I flatter:
For what aduancement may I hope from thee,[8]
That no Reuennew hast, but thy good spirits
To feed and cloath thee. Why shold the poor be flatter'd?
No, let the Candied[9] tongue, like absurd pompe, [Sidenote: licke]
And crooke the pregnant Hindges of the knee,[10]