ndency, when he
says,

'I find thee apt
But duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That roots itself in ease on Lethe's wharf,
Wouldst thou not stir in this.'

That is, according to my reading, 'fat as thou art, thou wouldst be
duller than the fat weed of Lethe if you did not bestir yourself in this
business.' Observe, too, with what propriety Shakspeare has here employed
the word 'stir,' it being a well-known fact that corpulent persons have a
strong disinclination to locomotion. And Hamlet himself, (in his
interview with _Rosencrantz_ and _Guildenstern_,) makes a pointed
allusion to the indolence and lethargy which so commonly accompany
obesity. 'I have of late,' he says, 'but wherefore I know not, _lost all
my mirth_, foregone all _custom of exercises_, and, indeed, it goes so
_heavily_ with my disposition,' &c. &c. Now what is this, I would fain
know, if it be not the natural complaint of a man suffering under the
oppression of too much flesh? or, as he afterwards expresses it, with
another allusion to his fatness, 'to _grunt_ and _sweat_, under a weary
life?' You have quoted the language of Ophelia in support of the common
notions with regard to the personation of this character; but you forget
the remarkable expression she uses when describing to her father the
unexpected visit of 'Lord Hamlet,' while she was 'sewing in her closet:

'At last, a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound,
As it did seem to shatter all _his_ bulk,
And end his being.'

What say you to this?--_His_ bulk! The sigh was so profound, that it
seemed to shatter even _his_ bulk! I fancy I might rest my case here, and
win my wager, eh? But I am too skilful a general to throw away my
strength at the beginning of a battle. If I have not already beaten you
from your last strong hold--from your last defence--I have a _corps de
reserve_, which will at once decide the victory. You remember the
concluding scene, I suppose--the fencing bout between Hamlet and Laertes?
What do you think of the following little bit of dialogue?

'_Laertes_.--A touch--a touch,--I do confess.
_King_.--Our son shall win.
_Queen_.--He's fat and scant of breath. Here,
Hamlet, take my napkin--rub thy brows
----Come, let me wipe thy face!'

Do you not imagine you see the pursy Prince, purring and blowing and
sweating with the exertion he had