(1) The trumpet's tantarara, post, shall set off

Either this passage is in itself a nonsensical rhapsody, or, partly through the caprice and partly through the negligence of successive editors, it has been corrupted.. By substituting a hyphen for the comma, between tantarara and post, we obtain a faint glimmering of its meaning; and even then it remains to discover what is meant by a tantarara-post.

THEOBALD.

The punctuation of this passage requires no alteration. Tantarara is a word imitative of the note of the trumpet, as tattoo is of the beat of the drum. The trumpet's tantarara, post, shall set off, means the tantarara of the trumpet shall set off after (post) the loud tattoo of the drum.

WARBURTON.

Dr. Warburton has very far exceeded Mr. Theobald in his approaches towards the sense of this difficult passage; yet he has not quite hit the mark. Our poet, doubtless, intended, the trumpet's tantarara, post (i. e. post-haste), shall set off, which is more poetical and much finer than it is rendered by Dr. Warburton's common-place explanation of post.

STEEVENS.

Sir John Hawkins is of opinion that tān-tă-rā-ră is not exactly imitative of the note of the trumpet, which is tān-tă-ră-rā-rā; but Dr. Burney assures me that it was not until about the middle of the seventeenth century that this innovation in trumpetology was known, when it was introduced by one Hans Von Puffenblowenschwartz, trumpeter to the gallant Prince Rupert. Of this our author could not possibly have had any knowledge.

(m)-Bread-basket.

JOHNSON.

This is poetical. Hamlet strikes Laertes in the stomach: the stomach being the depository for food (the pantry, as it were, of the human frame), it is metaphorically termed the bread-basket.

(n)-I'm dish'd

WARBURTON.

In culinary language, "to be dished" is to be served up: but, by a licentia poetica," I'm dish'd" is here used for I'm served out.

So in another part of this play:

WARBURTON.

"That last cross-buttock dish'd me.” '

MALONE

(o)--Dash my wig.

If I might hazard a conjecture upon this, I should suppose that the Queen of Denmark wore a wig.

РОРЕ.

Saxo-Grammaticus, Olaus Wormius, and all the old Danish writers, concur in stating that the Queen of Denmark wore a wig. As to its colour they are all silent; but they are at considerable variance respecting its shape: for, whilst some declare it to have been a Brutus, others as confidently assert that it was a Perruque à la Greque. I have consulted one hundred and fourteen controversial tracts, (bl. let.) expressly upon the subject, and am still at a loss which side of the question to espouse. I shall, however, resume the inquiry, and communicate the result of my laborious researches to the literary world.

STEEVENS.

Whether the Queen of Denmark wore a Brutus or a Perruque à la Greque is a question which, at this distance of time, to determine were difficult, and which, if determined, would tend only to the gratification of

an idle and impertinent curiosity; while the time bestowed upon the inquiry might be more usefully, more advantageously, and more beneficially, employed in improving the wigs which are worn by co-temporaneous heads, or in anticipating improvements for those which may be, hereafter, displayed on the heads of posterity.

So in an old ballad called Gabriel Gubbyns hys Lamen

tation, bl. let. 1602:

"No more Larke I trowe,

" "Tis all Dyckye nowe,

"For I shall bee hangyt for coynynge."

STEEVENS.

(q) I promised to die game; but I'll expose

That dirty scamp; for you am I a nose.

Nose, or nosey, is a term of reproach applied to one who impeaches his comrades for an offence, in the commission of which he has been concerned.

РОРЕ.

This speech is deservedly celebrated for its admirable pathos. Laertes, at the point of death, feels his former friendship for Hamlet returning upon him, in its fullest force: I promised,' says he, to die game; but, though I have forfeited my honour, by exposing that dirty scamp, (the king,) do not you, Hamlet, despise me for my baseness; consider, it is for your sake that I am forsworn -for you am I a nose.' Who, that has a heart alive to the soft touch of sensibility, can read this tender address without emotion?" For you am I a nose." How elegantly refined! how exquisitely pathetic!

WARBURTON.

This is a noble emendation, which almost sets the critic on a level with the author.

JOHNSON.