"There is one thing used of the Venetian women, and some others dwelling in the cities and towns subject to the signiory of Venice, that is not to be observed (I think) amongst any other women in Christendom, which is so common in Venice, that no woman whatsoever goeth without it, either in her house or abroad,—a thing made of wood and covered with leather of sundry colours, some with white, some red, some yellow. It is called a chapiney, which they wear under their shoes. Many of them are curiously painted; some also of them I bave seen fairly gilt: so uncomely a thing (in my opinion), that it is pity this foolish custom is not clean banished and exterminated out of the city. There are many of these chapineys of a great height, even half a yard high, which maketh many of their women that are very short seem much taller than the tallest women we have in England. Also I have heard it observed among them, that by how much the nobler a woman is, by so much the higher are her chapineys. All their gentlewomen, and most of their wives and widows that are of any wealth, are assisted and supported either by men or women, when they walk abroad, to the end they may not fall. They are borne up most commonly by the left arm, otherwise they might quickly take a fall." SCENE II.-" Your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, cracked within the ring." Hamlet's address to " my young lady and mistress" is perfectly intelligible, and has no latent meaning. The parts of women were performed by boys. The boy that Hamlet recollected in such parts was now "nearer to heaven by the altitude of a choppine;"--he was growing into a man. Hamlet hopes, therefore, that his "voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring; "that his voice be not broken, as the technical phrase is, and he be therefore unfitted for women's parts;-be no longer current in those parts. Our readers who have seen the coins of the 16th century, or have noticed our representations of them, will have observed that the head of the sovereign is invariably contained within a circle, between which and the rim the legend is given. The test of currency in a coin was, that it should not be cracked within the circle, or ring. If the crack, to which the thin coins of that age were particularly liable, extended beyond the ring, the money was no longer considered good. We learn, from two tracts quoted by Douce, that it was customary for usurers to buy up the "uncurrent gold," at a price lower than the nominal value of the coin, and then require the unhappy borrowers to take them at their standard rate. 5 SCENE II.-"'T was caviare to the general." This word is caviarie in the folio, following the Italian caviaro. Florio, in his New World of Words,' has "Caviaro, a kind of salt black meat made of roes of fishes, much used in Italy.' In Sir John Harrington's 33rd epigram, we find the word forming four syllables, and accented, as written by Shakspere : "And caveare, but it little boots." This preparation of the roes of sturgeons was formerly much used in England amongst the refined classes. It was imported from Russia, Ros. Madam, it so fell out, that certain players We o'er raught on the way of these we told him; And there did seem in him a kind of joy Pol. King. With all my heart; and it doth much content me To hear him so inclin'd. Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Her father, and myself (lawful espials,) Afront, encounter, confront. A lash that speech doth give my conscience." Pope wished to print, "a siege of troubles." Surely the metaphor of the sea, to denote an overwhelming flood of troubles, is highly beautiful. It is thoroughly Shaksperian; for we find, in Pericles, "a sea of joys; "-in Henry VIII., "a sea of glory; "-in Tarquin and Lucrece, "a sea of care." In Milton, we have, "in a troubled sea of passion tost." (Par. Lost. x. 718.) This passage was sometimes printed thus:"To die;-to sleep ; No more?"" Now comes the doubt-"perchance to dream." The "no more" is nothing more-the "rien de plus" of the French translators of Hamlet. No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's con tumely, The pangs of dispriz'd' love, the law's delay, That patient merit of the unworthy takes, To grunt and sweat under a weary life; f Oph. Ham. I humbly thank you; well, well, well." Oph. My lord, I have remembrances of yours, That I have longed long to re-deliver; I pray you, now receive them. Ham. No, no. I never gave you aught. Oph. My honour'd lord, I know right well you did; Proud, in the quartos. In the follo we have "the poor man's contumely,"-the contumely which the poor man bears. We retain the reading of the quartos, for the tran sition is abrupt from the wrong which the oppressor inflicts to the contumely which the poor man suffers. b Dispriz'd, in the folio; in quartos, despis'd. c Bodkin, a small sword. Cæsar is spoken of, by old writers, as slain by bodkins. d These, in folio, but not in quartos. e Grunt. So the originals. The players, in their squeamishness, always give us groan; and, if they had not the terror of the blank verse before them, they would certainly inflict perspire upon us. Grunt is used for loud lament by Turberville, Stonyhurst, and other writers before Shakspere. We have the word direct from the Anglo-Saxon grunun. f Away, in folio in quartos, aury. 8 This repetition" well, well, well," has been rejected by the earlier editors. It is not in the quartos. And, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make As made the things more rich: their perfume of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. lost, Take these, again; for to the noble mind, Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. There, my lord. Ham. Ha, ha! are you honest? Ham. Are you fair? Oph. What means your lordship? Ham. That if you be honest, and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty. Oph. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty ?b Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd, than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness: this was some time a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once. So. Oph. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe Ham. You should not have believed me: for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it: I lov'd you not. Oph. I was the more deceived. Ham. Get thee to a nunnery; Why would'st thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in: What should such fellows as I do crawling between heaven and earth! We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us: Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father? Oph. At home, my lord. Ham. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no way but in 's own house. Farewell. Oph. O, help him, you sweet heavens ! Ham. If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go; farewell: Or, if thou Your honesty, in the folio; in the quartos, you. b With honesty. This is the reading of the quartos. Th folio has " your honesty." c Heaven and earth, in the folio; in the quartos, earth and heaven. No way, in folio; in quartos, no where. Farewell. Oph. O heavenly powers, restore him! Ham. I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another; you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures,* and make your wantonness your ignorance: Go to, I'll no more on 't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: those that are married already, all but one, shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. [Erit HAMLET. Oph. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword: The expectancy and rose of the fair state, To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! Re-enter KING and POLONIUS. King. Love! his affections do not that way tend; Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; Thus set it down: He shall with speed to England, For the demand of our neglected tribute: This something-settled matter in his heart; a The reading of the folio is, "I have heard of your prattlings too, well enough. God hath given you one pace," &c. The context in some degree justifies the change of the folio. "You jig and you amble"-you go trippingly and mincingly in your gait (as the daughters of Sion are said, in Isaiah, to come in tripping so nicely with their feet"-may refer to pace, as "you lisp and you nickname God's creatures," may to prattlings. Nevertheless, we think, with Johnson, that Shakspere wrote both-paintings and face first, prattlings and pace latest. As a question of taste, we prefer to retain the first reading. The origin and commencement of this grief a King. It shall be so: Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Hall in the same. Enter HAMLET, and certain Players. Ham. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier had spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much-your hand thus: but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and begel a temperance, that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul, to see a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise: I could have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod : pray you, avoid it. 1 Play. I warrant your honour. Ham. Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'er-step not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now this, overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one, must, in your allowance, o'er-weigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, nei a Find him not out. b The, in folio; in quartos, your. Hear, in folio; in quartos, see Ham. O, reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them: for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous; and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready. [Exeunt Players Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and |