roceed to business.

In the very first scene of this celebrated tragedy, I find matter of
discussion.

_Bernardo._ Who's there?
_Francisco._ Nay, answer me--stand and _unfold_ yourself.

This word has never (_mirabile dictu_) excited a single comment; but in
my opinion it implies that _Bernardo_ enters with his arms _folded_. The
judicious player will remember this, and when thus accosted will
immediately throw back his arms, and discover his under vestments, like
the "_Am I a beef-eater now?_" in the critic.

_Bernardo._ Long live the king.
_Francisco._ Bernardo?
_Bernardo._ He.

Mr. Malone merely observes that this sentence appears to have been the
watchword. So it was; but, in my mind, the watchword of rebellion. The
times, as _Hamlet_ afterwards observes, were out of joint, and the
ambitious _Bernardo_, as it appears to me, was desirous of mounting the
throne, having doubtless as good a right to do so, as the murderer
_Claudius_. The answer of _Francisco_ favours my construction. If the
loyal exclamation had been pointed at king Claudius, Francisco would
have said _Amen_; instead of which he says, "_Bernardo_," signifying,
What! _you_ king? and Bernardo cooly answers, "_He_," signifying "Yes,
_I_." _Francisco_ contents himself with replying, "_You come most
carefully upon your hour_," and the rejoinder of the future monarch puts
my reading out of all doubt.

_Bernardo._ 'Tis now struck twelve, get thee to bed _Francisco_.

This so exactly resembles the charge of the usurper, _Macbeth_, to his
torch-bearing domestic,

_Go bid thy mistress when my drink is ready
She strike upon the bell--get thee to bed._

Thus the guilt of _Bernardo_ is proved by all laws of analogy. Here then
we have two _beef-eaters_ in disguise. Ay, beef-eaters! and I'll prove
it by the next sentence.

_Francisco._ For this relief much thanks: 'tis _bitter_ cold
And I am sick at heart.

Thus all the editors, without a single comment--Oh the blockheads!
Listen to my reading.

_Francisco._ For this _good beef_ much thanks: 'tis _better_ cold, &c.

_Bernardo_ should in this place present an edge-bone to his friend, who
should courteously accept it, like a good natured visiter, who bolts
into the dining-room when dinner is half over and endeavours to avert
the frowns of the lady of the house, by saying "O! make no
apologies--it's my own fault--I like it _better cold_, &c. Let the
property man, when this play i