Shakespeare, it will not satisfy all.[119:1]

It might have been supposed that the difficulty would at once have been
cleared up by reference to the accounts of the death of Hamlet's father,
as given by Saxo Grammaticus, and the old "Hystorie of Hamblet," but
neither of these writers attribute his death to poison.[119:2]

The question has lately been very much narrowed and satisfactorily
settled (for the present, certainly, and probably altogether) by Dr.
Nicholson and the Rev. W. A. Harrison. These gentlemen have decided that
the true reading is Hebona, and that Hebona is the Yew. Their views are
stated at full length in two exhaustive papers contributed to the New
Shakespeare Society, and published in their "Transactions."[119:3] The
full argument is too long for insertion here, and my readers will thank
me for referring them to the papers in the "Transactions." The main
arguments are based on three facts: 1. That in nearly all the northern
nations (including, of course, Denmark) the name of the Yew is more or
less like Heben. 2. That all the effects attributed by Shakespeare to
the action of Hebona are described as arising from Yew-poisoning by
different medical writers, some of them contemporary with him, and some
writing with later experiences. 3. That the _post mortem_ appearances
after Yew-poisoning and after snake-poisoning are very similar, and it
was "given out, that sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me."

But it may well be asked, How could Shakespeare have known of all these
effects, which (as far as our present search has discovered) are not
named by any one writer of his time, and some of which have only been
made public from the results of Yew-poisoning since his day? I think the
question can be answered in a very simple way. The effects are described
with such marked minuteness that it seems to me not only very probable,
but almost certain, that Shakespeare must have been an eye-witness of a
case of Yew-poisoning, and that what he saw had been so photographed on
his mind that he took the first opportunity that presented itself to
reproduce the picture. With his usual grand contempt for perfect
accuracy he did not hesitate to sweep aside at once the strict
historical records of the old king's death, and in its place to paint
for us a cold-blooded murder carried out by means which he knew from his
personal experience to be possible, and which he felt himself able to
describe with a minuteness which