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 is next acted, remember the beef. In the same scene _Bernardo_ inquires “Is _Horatio_ here?” who answers “A piece of him.” Warburton, that _bow-wow_, “dog in forehead,” says this signifies his _hand_, which direction should be marked. But how if his hand be not marked? It is not every player who has committed manslaughter on anybody but his author. In my opinion, an actor who scorns to be a mannerist will take it to signify his leg, which is quite as good a _piece_ of him, as his hand, and, if he be a dancer, a much better. My interpretation of this passage is strengthened by the usage of the clown in the dramatic entertainment entitled _Mother Goose_. When the late Mr. Lewis Bologna, as Pantaloon, proffered his hand in token of amity and forgiveness, Mr. Joseph Grimaldi protruded his foot into his master’s palm. His reading was certainly the right one.