Skip to main content

Full text of "A study of Hamlet"

See other formats 


ALVMNVS  BOOK  FVND 


v 
/> 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 


• 


I 

I 

(P 


STUDY    OF    HAMLET.. 


BY 
PRANK  A.  MARSHALL. 


LOKDOK: 
LONGMANS,  GREEN,  &  CO.,  PATERNOSTER  tlOW. 

1875. 


LONDON  : 
M  'GO  WAN  AKD  co.,  LIMITED,  STEAM 

GREAT     -\VJNDMILL    STREET,   W. 


c/J 


gebkatioir. 

ON  THE  TOMB   OF   II IM, 

WHO  WAS  AT  ONCE 
ENGLAND'S  AND  MANKIND'S  GREATEST  POET, 

I  LAY  THIS  HUMBLE  OFFERING  : 

WELL  KNOWING  THAT  IT  LACKS  MUCH  IN  MERIT, 

BUT   HOPING   THAT   SOME   OF   ITS   FAULTS   MAY   BE   ATONED   FOR 

BY  THE  LQYE  AND  REVE.RENCE  WHICH  INSPIRED  IT. 


PREFACE. 


"  WHAT  !  another  book  on  ' Hamlet !' "  I  seem  to  hear  many, 
both  critics  and  students  of  Shakespeare,  exclaim  with  somewhat 
of  a  jaded  air.  tf  What  can  you  have  that  is  new  to  say  about 
'Hamlet?'"  they  ask — not  unreasonably.  My  answer  is  that  I 
hope  I  have  something  to  say  which  is  worth  hearing,  whether 
it  be  quite  new,  or  whether  ib  be  old  truths  presented  in  a  new 
guise ;  though  I  must  confess  I  have  not  hazarded  any  theories, 
or  indulged  in  any  criticisms,  simply  because  I  thought  they 
were  new.  To  those  who  seek  for  abstruse  verbal  commentaries, 
or  for  ingenious,  but,  to  my  mind,  paltry  attempts  to  nibble  away 
our  greatest  poet's  reputation,  this  book  will  not  be  welcome. 
I  leave  to  others  the  task  of  treating  our  author  like  a  prisoner 
arrested  for  felony,  of  turning  his  pockets  inside  out,  and  stripping 
him  to  the  skin,  in  order  to  see  if  they  can  discover  a  rag  or 
two  which  might  have  belonged  to  some  one  else. 

Those  I  would  fain  have  as  my  readers  are  those  who  love 
Shakespeare  as  one  who  has  added  to  the  beauty  and  happiness 
of  life ;  who  reverence  his  mind  as  one  of  those  precious  gifts 
of  God  to  this  world,  whence  beings,  bom  of  Fancy  indeed, 
but  none  the  less  real  in  their  nobleness  and  purity,  may  spring, 
to  gladden  the  hearts  of  those  whose  earthly  lot  it  is  to  find 
few  friends  save  in  the  realms  of  imagination,  These  persons 


\iii  PREFACE, 

will  grudge  neither  time  nor  trouble  if,  by  their  own  efforts, 
or  by  the  aid  of  others,  they  can  gain  a  clearer  insight  into  the 
beauties  of  Shakespeare's  creations. 

This  book  had  its  origin  in  a  lecture  which  I  was  asked  to  give 
before  the  Catholic  Young  Men's  Association,  I  chose  "  Hamlet" 
for  my  subject;  but  1  found  it  impossible  to  say  what  I  wanted 
to  say  in  the  space  even  of  two  lectures.  The  greater  portion  of 
the  First  and  Second  Parts  of  this  work  formed  the  matter  of 
those  lectures.  It  was  always  my  ambition  to  give  a  series 
of  lectures  on  Shakespeare,  accompanied  with  readings;  but  I 
have  learnt  to  doubt  my  capacity  for  such  a  task.  Though  I 
have  studied  "Hamlet"  more  or  less  for  the  last  fourteen  years, 
I  never  knew,  till  I  began  seriously  to  finish  this  work,  how  scanty 
was  my  knowledge  of  the  grand  subject  I  had  undertaken  to  illus- 
trate. One  of  my  principal  objects  will  have  been  gained,  if  I 
can  induce  any  of  my  readers  to  study  the  text  of  Shakespeare's 
plays  more  carefully,  and  with  a  higher  aim  than  mere  verbal 
criticism ;  they  will  find  that  he  is  himself  his  best  commentator, 
and  that  such  study  will  open  to  them  new  fields  of  enjoyment. 

I  have  made  frequent  allusions  to  the  acting  of  three  of  the 
most  distinguished  representatives  of  Hamlet  on  the.  stage 
that  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing — namely,  Tommaso 
Salvini,  Ernesto  Eossi,  and  Henry  Irving.  I  had  intended 
to  have  entered  into  a  somewhat  elaborate  comparison  of 
their  respective  interpretations  of  the  character ;  but  for  many 
reasons,  some  of  which  I  will  mention,  I  thought  it  better 
not  to  do  so.  Signer  Salvini  has  as  yet  only  appeared  in 
a  version  of  the  play,  so  unsatisfactory  to  an  English  student 
of  Shakespeare,  that  it  would  be  scarcely  possible  to  do  justice 
to  his  great  talents  as  displayed  in  the  part  of  Hamlet ; 
the  more  especially  as  he  intends  to  give  us  the  privilege 
of  seeing  him  in  a  fuller  and  more  faithful  translation. 
Signor  Eossi  has  yet  to  appear  before  an  English  public;  he 
also  may  be  enabled  to  correct  some  of  the  deficiencies  of  the 


PKEFACK.  ix 

version,  which  he  uses  in  Italy,  before  lie  encounters  the  cri- 
ticism of  Shakespeare's  countrymen.  Mr.  Irving  has  exchanged 
Hamlet  for  another  Shakespearian  role,  after  having  given 
the  almost  incredible  '  number  of  two  hundred  consecutive 
representations  of  the  part:  it  was  inevitable  that  his  per- 
formance should  suffer  from  so  fatiguing  a  persistence  in  it, 
and  I  trust,  for  the  sake  of  art,  such  a  call  may  never 
again  bs  made  im  his  strength.  Acting  is  an  art  which  can- 
not be  preserved  in  any  perfection,  unless  the  actor  has  the 
opportunity  of  fchanging,  not  unfrequently,  the  character  which 
he  represents.  If  a  painter  were  to  spend  a  year  in  painting 
the  same  subject  over  and  over  again,  he  would  lose  most 
of  whatever  skill  he  ever  possessed ;  his  delicacy  of  touch 
would  be  seriously  impaired ;  his  colouring  would  be  apt  to 
grow  coarse  and  careless;  while  his  artistic  perception  would 
be  diminished,  and  his  power  of  execution  would  be  worn 
away  by  very  weariness.  Art  must  have  variety,  or  it  pines 
and  becomes  cramped.  I  have  ventured  to  make  these  remarks 
because  the  opinion  I  have  incidentally  expressed,  in  different 
parts  of  this  work,  of  Mr.  Irving's  Hamlet  was  formed  in 
the  course  of  his  first  twenty  performances;  and,  judging  by 
the  portion  that  I  saw  of  his  two-hundredth  performance, 
I  should  say  that  the  prolonged  strain  on  his  powers  had 
told  prejudicially  on  his  execution  of  what  was,  undeniably, 
a  singularly  fine  conception  of  the  character.  The  charming 
grace,  and  melodious  elocution,  of  Signor  Salvini  could  not 
be  obscured  by  the  fact  that  he  was  under  the  disadvantage 
of  speaking  a  language,  with  which  but  very  few  of  his 
audience  were  familiar :  he  has,  by  his  performance  of  Othello 
and  Hamlet,  won  a  position  among  Englishmen,  as  an  in- 
terpreter of  Shakespeare,  which  few  of  our  own  countrymen 
have  gained.  Ernesto  Rossi,  whose  style  is  totally  different* 

*  A  writer  in  the  Times,  speaking  of  Rossi's  Othello,  as  given  in  Paris, 
said  that  the  two  great  Italian  actors  were  as  similar  in  style  as  Phelps 


X  PREFACE. 

from  that  of  Salvini,  though  he  is  in  grace  and  talent  his 
most  worthy  rival,  will  be  sure  of  a  generous  welcome  :  his 
appearance  amongst  us  will  stimulate  that  revived  interest  in 
Shakespeare's  plays  which  has  been  such  a  marked  feature 
of  the  last  year.  As  far  as  regards  the  Hamlet  of  the  three 
great  actors  I  have  named,  I  should  say  that  Salvini's  inter- 
pretation was  the  most  tender,  Rossi's  the  .most  passionate, 
and  Irving's  the  most  intellectual. 

Now  that  it  has  been  proved  that  the  plays  of  Shakespeare 
can  be  made  to  bring  money  as  well  as  glory  to  the  managers,  I 
live  in  the  hopes  of  seeing  some  performances  of  our  greatest 
dramatist's  masterpieces  worthy  of  the  honour  in  which  we 
hold  him.  I  do  not  mean  as  regards  scenery  and  dresses,  but 
as  regards  the  representation  of  the  characters  themselves  ;  one 
good  actor  cannot  make  an  efficient  cast ;  and  unless  the 
minor  characters  in  Shakespeare's  plays  are  adequately  repre- 
sented, it  is  impossible  to  form  any  just  conception  of  the 
excellence  of  his  work.  This  can  only  be  effected  by  actors, 
managers,  and  audiences,  uniting  together  in  making  greater 
sacrifices  to  Art  than  they  have  hitherto  seemed  willing 
to  do. 

The  text  from  which  I  have  quoted  throughout  is  the  "  Cain- 
bridge  Shakespeare."  All  the  references  are  to  that  edition, 
which  I  cannot  praise  too  highly.  The  text  of  the  Quarto  1603, 
which  I  have  used,  is  that  contained  in  Allen's  Reprint,  entitled 
"The  Devonshire  'Hamlets,'"  in  which  the  Quartos  of  1603  and 
1604  are  exactly  reprinted  in  facsimile  side  by  side.  It  is  a  most 
valuable  book.  I  have  exercised  all  possible  care  in  the  revision 
of  the  letterpress,  especially  of  the  quotations.  For  what  few 
mistakes  have  still  crept  in  I  crave  pardon. 


and  Macready.  I  never  saw  Macready,  but  I  am  sure  that  all,  who 
have  seen  Rossi  and  Salvini  in  the  part,  will  admit  that  there  could 
scarcely  be  two  more  dissimilar  interpretations  of  Hamlet. 


PHEFACE.  Xi 

The  three  first  Parts  have  been  in  print  for  some  time  ;  various 
circumstances  prevented  my  finishing  the  work,  and  delayed  its 
publication.  I  hope  I  have  succeeded  in  availing  myself  to  some 
extent  of  the  more  important  additions  that  have  been  made  to 
Shakespearian  criticism,  especially  as  regards  "  Hamlet,"  since  I 
began  my  task.  I  do  not  profess  to  have  read  all,  or  nearly  all, 
that  has  been  published  on  the  subject ;  but  I  can  honestly  say 
that  the  number  of  works  referred  to  in  the  course  of  this  book 
does  not  include  one  half  of  those  I  have  consulted. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  thank  most  sincerely  those  friends, 
some  of  them  men  whose  names  are  honoured  in  literature,  who 
have  helped  me  with  their  advice  and  encouragement.  To  Mr. 
Frederic  Broughton,  who  has  given  me  most  valuable  and  timely 
'aid  in  the  revision  of  the  work,  I  owe  especial  thanks.  I  also 
may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  express  my  gratitude  to  my  amanuen- 
sis, Mr.  G.  J.  White,  who,  though  suffering  from  a  long  and  pain- 
ful illness,  has  by  his  dire  and  intelligence  in  verifying  quotations 
and  authorities,  and  in  the  laborious  collation'1'  of  the  first  Quarto 
(1603)  with  the  text  of  the  Cambridge  edition,  been  of  invalu- 
able service  to  me. 


*  See  Foot-note,  page  163, 


CONTENTS, 


PART  1. 

"  HAJILET "  popular,  0 ;  cause  of  popularity,  9  ;  ^Ipye  interest "  subordinate  td 
Jove  for  his  father,  10^  Hamlet's  weakness  of^cTioVWflns^yTnTal^for 
good  and  contempt  of_e^iil.Cl3y  fid^IItyrlo~^fpp.ii^^Tpy  uncongeniality 
of  his  position,  12—13.  Summary  of  remarks,  13—14  ;  reasons  for  making 
them,  14.  Voltaire's  abuse  of  Shakespeare,  14—15.  Criticisms  on  Shake- 
speare, 15-16.  Excellency  of  Schlegel,  16.  Hamlet's  first  entrance,  16-17; 
Jfirstjoliloajiy,  J8.  Entrance  of  Horatio,  Marcellus,  and  Bernardo,  18—19. 
Hamlet  hears  of  the  appearance  of  the  Ghost,  19 ;  his  meeting  with  the 
Ghost,  19 — 21 ;  second  soliloquy,  21  ;  remarks  on  it,  22.  Coleridge's  idea  of 
Hamlet's  madness,  22.  Time  elapsing  between  1st  and  2nd  Acts,  23  ;  how 
Hamlet  employed  it,  23.  Malone's  remark  on  his  assumption  of  madness, 
23.  Hamlet's  resolve  to  break  off  his  affectionate  relations  with  Ophelia,  24  ; 
her  account  of  the  last  interview  to  Polonius,  24  ;  remarks  on  his  conduct, 
^25—26.  Was  Hamlet  guilty  of  the  ruin  of  Ophelia  ?  26  ;  Polonius'  device 
to  test  his  love  for  Ophelia,  27  ;  their  meeting,  27.  Explanation  of  the 
scene  with  Ophelia,  28-29. 

PART  II. 

Reception  of  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  by  King  and  Queen,  31.  Polonius  a 
satire  on  Lord  Burleigh,  32.  Hamlet's  welcome  of  Rosencrantz  and  Guil- 
denstern, 32—33  ;  he  discovers  they  were  "  sent  for,"  33-34 ;  his  treatment 
at  Court,  34 ;  and  non-assumption  of  madness  befor*  Rosencrantz  and 
Guildenstern,  34.  Mischievous  raillery  against  Polonius  on  announcing  the 
arrival  of  players,  31—35  ;  excuses  for  it,  36;  .interview  with  players,  35. 
^  TJiird  soliloquy,  36  ;'  remarks  on  itj  37-  39.  .  Interval  between  '2nd  and  3rd 
Acts,  39.  King's  interview  with  Ruselicrantz  and  Uuildenstern,39.  fTourth 
soliloquy,  o9  — 40;,  remarks  on  it,  41  -4'J.  .Design  of  sending  Hamlet  ti- 


XIV  CONTEXTS. 


__  England  —  great  variety  of  the  play,  41  —42.     Hamlet's  speech  to  Horatio, 

\_tfj   Play  scene,  42  -  44  ;_its_sueeess,.  44.     Insolence  of  Rosencrantz  and 

Guildenstern  when  summoning  Hamlet  to  his  mother,  44—45.     Next  scene 

rarely  represented,   45.     Servility  of    Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  45. 

King's  soliloquy,  45.  >/Hamlet|s  _diabolical  revenge,  45—46.     Closet  scene, 

46-48.     Death  of  Polonius,  -IS  -  I'.).      Queen  innocent  of  hypocrisy,  40, 

y  Hamlet's  rebuke,  49—50.     Appearance  of  Ghost,  50  —  52;  effectiveness  of 

it,  52.     Hamlet's  eloquent  appeal  (o  his  mother,  53.     Hamlet's  conduct  to 

his  mother  discussed,  53  —  5£     The  guilt  incurred  through  killing  Polonius, 

55.     Was  the  Queen  guilty  of  connivance  at,  or  complicity  in,  her  first 

«-    husband's  death  ?  55—56.     Expansion  of  this  scene  from  that  in  the  Quarto 

(1603),  56—57.     Queen's  promise  that  she  would  not  betray  Hamlet,  57. 

Hamlet  suspicious  of  the  King's  design  in  sending  him  to  England,  57-58. 


PART  III. 

Opening  of  4th  Act,  59.  Queen's  puzzling  speech  explained  on  reference  to  the 
Quarto  (1603),  59-60.  The  hypocrisy  of  Claudius,  60.  Inseparability  of 
Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  61 ;  their  endeavours  to  get  from  Hamlet 
where  he  has  put  the  body  of  Polonius,  61—62.  Difficulty  of  the  part  the 
King  has  to  play,  62—63  ;  he  informs  Hamlet  he  is  to  go  to  England,  63-  64  ; 
his  confession  of  treachery  to  the  Queen,  64.  Hamlet's  defence  of  his 
conduct  towards  Rosencrant/  and  Guildenstern  to  Horatio,"  6 1-68  ;  can  his 
conduct  be  justified?  68  -6!X  Scene  4,  Act  IV.,  awkwardly  placed  as 
regards  time,  70;  Well-devised,  71.  ^  Fifth  soliloquy,  71  - 7-  ^remarks  on 
it,  72-  75. 

PART  IV. 

Events  occurring  between  Act  IV.,  Scene  4,  and  Act  IV.,  Scene  5,  77.  Popularity 
of  Polonius,  78.  Laertes'  violent  demeanour  to  Claudius  and  subsequent 
moderation,  78—81.  Horatio  visited  by  some  sailors,  81  ;  his  position,  82. 
TII?  Tring  rmvinnr  Sfni,isfift(]  L.pp.rt.P.3,  receives  news  of  Hamlet's  return,  82 — 83. 
Plan  of  vengeance  concn^fpfl  hy  C|a11fljug  and  Laertes,  84 — 86  ;  Contrast 
between  the  two  characters,  86—87.  Proportion  of  guilt  assignable  to 

-  t.ap.rt.p.a,  88  -90T~~Uervmu?lenient  view  of  Laertes  censured,  90.     Denmark 

-dhi'  ••  **  — — __ 

and  Germany,  90—91.  Grave-diggers'  scene,  91—95.  Arrival  of  the  funeral 
party,  95.  Condu£Lnf  T.na^s  anrl  fTgmlfty  nfi  -im.  Queen's  beautiful 
description  of  her  son's  state  of  mind,  101.  V  Hamlet  expresses  his  sorrow 
for  his  passion  at  Ophelia's  grave  to  Horatio,  102.  Scene  with  Osric,  102 — 
103.  Entry  of  King,  Queen,  and  Court,  104.  Ijajmlet/s  apology  to  Laertes, 
and  his  reception  of  it,  104  -100.  The  fencing-bout,  107-  Queen  dics;107. 

Death  of  Himlet,  10$  - 109  J  remarks  on  his  character,  '109— 110.  Conclusion, 
;  v\  -.   ,      n        I  i  .  »» 


CONTENTS.  XV 

PAGES. 

Appendix  A.      Early  life  of  Hamlet          113—123 

_     .f         B.      First  soliloquy         123— 127< 

_    „         C.      On  the  soliloquy,  "  0  all  you  liost  of  heaven  !"  ...    127-128 


D,  The  character  of  Ophelia 128—151 

E.  On  the  soliloquy,  "  0,  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave 

am  I "  151—154 


^    „         F.      On  the  soliloquy,  "To  be  or  not  to  be"...        164-157 

~ (£ On  the  play  scene     77.        77.        77.        77.     ~        ...  157—161 

,,         H.      On  the  soliloquy,  "Now  might  I  do  it  pat"      161-KG 

,,         K.      On  the  two  pictures  in  the  closet-scene 166--174 

,,          L.      Closet-scene  from  the  Quarto  1603  and  the  Cambridge 

Shakespeare  compared 174    176 

,,         M.     Scene  between  the  Queen  and  Horatio  from  the  Quarto 

1603,  omitted  in  the  Cambridge  edition         176' 

,,         N.      King's  speech  to  the  Queen  from  the  Quarto  1603 
corresponding  to  his  apology  in  Act  IV.,  Scene  3,  of 

the  Cambridge  edition ,.        ...  176 

„         0,      Fortinbras      177—150 

„         P.      Hamlet's  age ;.  181 

Additional  Notes 183-200 

Scheme  of  Time  occupied  by  the  events  of  the  play        .< 201 — 202 

Index                                                                                                     .  203—205 


ERKATA. 


Page  24,  Line  26,  (in  quotation)  for  "  to"  read  "in" 

'Z4,     ,,     42,  (do.      do.      )  dele  "and"  after  "waving" 
11,     ,,       7,  fcele  comma  after  "  aU'powerful," 
,,      63,     ,,     42  and  43,  for  "four  first "  read  ">'^  four." 
,,      95,     ,',     42,  after  "ceremony"  insert  comma. 
,,      99,     „      3,  (in  quotation)  for  " splenetive"  read  "^lenitive" 
„    102,     ,,     21,  for  "their"  read  "those." 
„    H5,     „      3,  for  "  Wittenburg"  read  "  Wittenberg." 
,,    115,  Foot-note,  for        do.  read  do. 

,,    136,  Line  39,  after  "  pa;je"  insert  "120." 
,,    137,     „      9,  for  " page  S"  TeaA  "payeVM." 

158,     ,,      2,  after  "transitions"  insert  comma. 
,,    158,    ,,      3,  after  "Hamlet's"  insert  comma. 

.—In  the  table  of  "  Contents,"  pagexv,  at  Appendix  M,  the  words  "  omitted 
in  the  Cambridge  Edition"  do  not  mean  "  omitted  only  in  that  edition  ; "  the  scene 
referred  to,  as  is  well  known,  being  omitted  in  all  the  Quartos  and  Folios,  except 
the  Quarto  1603. 


CALIF 


A   STUDY    OF   HAMLET. 


PART     I. 

"  HAMLET  "  is  perhaps  the  most  popular  of  all  Shakespeare's 
plays.  Nearly  all  people  have  either  read  it,  or  seen  it  upon 
the  stage,  more  than  once.  I  will  not  say  that  it  is  the  one 
most  often  quoted,  yet  perhaps  the  quotations  taken  from  it 
are  the  best  known  of  any  of  those  lines  of  Shakespeare 
which  have  become  household  words.  I  do  not  think  it  is 
difficult  to  understand  the  universal  popularity  of  this  play ; 
if  we  do  not  all  agree  in  considering  it  Shakespeare's  greatest 
work,  it  certainly  is  his  most  human  j  though  less  pathetic 
than  "  Othello,"  less  sublime  than  "  Macbeth,"  less  touching 
than  "  Lear,"  it  is  certainly  of  all  his  tragedies  the  one  which 
appeals  most  widely  to  human  sympathy  ;  because  the  charac- 
ter of  Hamlet  has  more  in  common  with  all  mankind  than  any 
other  hero.  Hisjvery  weakness,  which  has  been  so  severely 
censured  by  some  critics,  is  greatly  the  cause  of  this  ;  for  most 
tragic  heroes  are  endowed  with  such  gigantic- intellect,  and 
monstrous  passions,  as  to  place  them  beyond  both  the  under- 
standing and  the  sympathy  of  ordinary  mortals.  Deeply  as 
we  are  moved  by  the  agonising  jealousy  of  Othello,  freely  as 
we  weep  with  Lear  over  the  body  of  the  loving  Cordelia,  in- 
stinctively as  we  shudder  with  Macbeth  at  the  unearthly 
apparitions  which  so  mysteriously  control  his  fate,  few  of  us 
ever  feel  that  Othello,  or  Lear,  or  Macbeth,  might  be  our 
very  own  self;  but  when  Hamlet  speaks,  it  seems  as  if t 
thoughts  and  feelings,  long  pent  up  in  us,  had  found  their 
most  natural  utterance  :  the  least  philosophical  comprehends 
his  philosophy ;  the  L;.?t  melancholy  muses  sadly  with  him 
over  the  mysteries  of  life ;  the  least  humorous  of  us  smiles 

B 


10  A   STUDY   Cft   HAMLET. 

with  him  as  odd  fancies  and  playful  satire  break  forth  from 
him  in  the  midst  of  the  most  tragic  surroundings. 

]STo  doubt  the  question  of  _suicide  might  be  debated  more 
learnedly,  certainly  more  sensationally,  than  in  the  celebrated 
soliloquy  of  Hamlet :  but  if  philosophers  arid  novelists  were 
to  try  their  very  utmost,  they  never  could  express  more 
clearly,  more  vividly,  certainly  not  more  beautifully,  than 
Shakespeare  has  in  those  few  lines,  the.  struggles  of  a  mind 
weighed  clown  by  the  sense  that  the  burden  imposed  upon  it 
was  too  heavy  to.  bear.. . 

The  popularity  of  "  Hamlet "  is  the  more  remarkable  when 
we  consider  how  subordinate  in  it  is  what  we  commonly  call 
the  "  love,  interest."  Few  plays  except  Shakespeare's  have 
retained  their  hold  upon  the  popular  mind  either  on  the  stage 
or  in  the  study,  the  principal  motive  of  which  has  not  been, 
in  some  form  or  other,  the  love  of  man  for  woman,  or  of 
woman  for  man.  In  Hamlet  the  chief  motive  is  filial  affec- 
ion  ;  one  which  I  hope  will  always  inspire  the  deepest  and 
most  general  sympathy  ;  but  which,  it  would  be  idle  to  deny, 
exercises  a  less  powerful  charm  over  the  vulgar  mind  than 
that  more  selfish,  and  intrinsically  less  noble  affection  which 
sometimes  threatens  to  monopolise  the  name  of  Love.  If  for 
no  other  reason,  I  should  be  deeply  grieved  to  see  the  cha- 
racter of  Hamlet  losing  any  of  its  hold  upon  the  minds  of  my 
contemporaries,  and  especially  of  the  young  ;  for  if  there  is 
any  one  of  the  natural  affections  which  the  rapidly  advancing 
steam-engine  of  improvement  seems  likely  to  improve  off 
the  face  of  the  earth,  it  is  that  most  holy,  unselfish,  and 
noble  affection — an  affection  rooted  in  humility  and  in  a 
single-minded  sense  of  duty ;  incompatible  alike  with  intel- 
lectual pride,  or  with  enervating  self-indulgence — the  affec- 
tion of  a  son  for  his  father.  No  one  can  ever  hope  to  appre- 
ciate Hamlet  who  does  not  cherish  unsullied  within  his  soul, 
in  youth,  in  maturity,  and  in  old  age,  that  reverential 
love  of  parents  which  is  the  foundation-stone  of  all  social 
virtue. 

The  intense  love  and  worship  which  Hamlet  feels  for  the 
memory  of  his  father,  mark  him  out,  on  his  very  first 
entrance,  as  alone  in  the  crowd  of  courtiers  around  him  ; 
alone,  too,  even  in  the  presence  of  those  who  should  have  • 
loved  and  revered  that  memory  as  highly,  if  not  more  highly, 
than  Hamlet  himself.  The  noble  excess  of  his  love  tends, 
hardly  less  than  the  inherent  weakness  of  his  character,  to 
paralyse  his  capacity  for  action  when  it  is  most  needed  ;  of 
this  I  shall  have  to  speak  more  fully,  and  I  will  now  pass  on 


A  STUDY  OP  HAMLET.  11 

/to  notice  briefly  those  other  points  in  the  character  of  Hamlet 

.  which  ensure  him  the  sympathy  of  mankind. 
\j-'  As  I  have  said  before,  the  very  weakness  of  Hamlet  makes 
us  love  him  the  more,  because  it  brings  him.  nearer  to  our 
own  level.  Who  has  not  known  what  it  is  to  feel  life,  with 
its  glorious  opportunities,  slipping  away  from  us  day  by  day,>/ 
without  bringing  us  any  nearer  the  Mfilment  of  some  great 
duty,  or  the  execution  of  some  noble  purpose,  to  which  either 
the  example,  or  the  exhortation,  of  others,  or  the  voice  of  our 
own'conscien ce  has  called  us  ?  It  may  be  by  the  death-bed 
of  some  very  dear  one  ;  it  may  be  in  the  wearying  discipline 
of  some  long  illness ;  it  may  be  in  the  close  and  earnest 
contemplation  of  the  evils  around  us,  that  we  hear  the  first 
'sound  of  the  voice  that  calls  us  to  sacrifice  our  ease,  and  our 
pleasures,  for  the  .sake,  of  righting  some  wrong,  or  destroying 
some  abuse,  to  the  full  heinousness  of  which  our  minds  have 
y  roused.  Perhaps,  like  Hamlet,  we  sit  down  and  con- 
template the  horrid  features  of  the  monster,  till  the  very 
^cutenes's"  of  the  ftaih  and  disgust,  which  such  a  contemplation 
inspires,  obtaining  complete  mastery  over  our  feelings,  and 
occupying  our  thoughts  to  the  exclusion  of  almost  any  other 
^nbject,  gradually  wears  away  our  energies,  without  their 

/  tiudinjT  vent  in 'thai  prompt  ;uicl  decided  action  which  alone, 
asjvve  know,  can  accomplish  the  great  end  we  have  set  before 
_us.~  Lvj;his  state  of  mind,  the  desire  to  act  is  never  lost;  it 
»is  only" the  power  lo  do  so  which  is  _s  wallowed  up  in  excess  of 
li-eling.  Another  state  is  when  we  simply  content  ourselvef 
with  exclaiming  against  the  injustice  and  wickedness  of  the 
world  in  general,  or  of  some  persons  in  particular,  but  weakly 
decline  to  act,  from  despair  at  the  magnitude  of  the  labour 
involved  in  any  attempt  to  remedy  the  evils  to  which  we 
cannot  blind  ourselves.  In  such  a  state  of  mind  we  might 
slightly  alter  the  words  of  Hamlet  — 

"  The  world  is  out  of  joint,  oh  cursed  spite  ! 
But  /was  never  born  to  set  it  right." 

To  this  canker  of  cowardice,  which  blights  the  lives  of  so 
many  in  whom  great  sensibility  is  coupled  with  indolence, 
and  in  whom  the  reflective  part  of  the  mind  is  morbidly 
developed  at  the  expense  ot"  the  executive  part— it  is  to  this 
that  Hamlet  alludes  in  the  words — 

That  craven  scruple 
Of  thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event, 
A  thought  which  quartered  hath  but  one  part  wisdom, 
And  ever  three  par. 3  coward. 

This  weakness  may  be  developed  into  a  worse  form,  till  it 

B  2 


12  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

assumes  the  most  repulsive  of  all  shapes,  that  impotent 
snarling  cynicism,  which  yaps  like  a  cur  at  the  heels  of  every 
wrong-doer,  but  never  attempts  to  help  the  wronged. 
l'^0ne  feature  in  the  character  of  Hamlet,  which  most  attracts 
7  us,  is  his  keer^  sympathy  with  all  that  k-gopd.  his_contempt 
for  what  is  mean  aiidjadl ;  this  he  shows  withouTTregard  of 
place  or  person ;  and  i£  is  more  admirable  in  a  prince,  whose 
temptations  to  acquiesce  in  things  as  they  are,  and  to  accept 
the  world's  standard  of  right  and^^sLmng.-are  greater  than 
those  of  one  in  a  lower  station  of  life. 

^  The  fidelity  which  Hamlet  shows  to  his  friends,  few  indeed, 
but  chosen  for  their  merit  alone ;  as  well  as  the  dignified 
courtesy,  with  which  he  treats  all  but  those  whom  he  knows 
to  be .  practising  some  treachery  towards  him,  add  to  the 
affection  with  which  we  regard  him. 

I  will  here  allude  to  one  other  circumstance  of  his  condi- 
tion, which  appeals  to  the  sympathy  of  many  readers  of  this 
tragedy — I  mean  the  uncongenial ity  from  which  it  is  manifest, 
the  moment  he  enters  on  the  stage,  that  Hamlet  suffers.^  I 
do  so  merely  to  warn  the  younger  amongst  you  agamst 
allowing  a  natural  sympathy  for  one,  whose  surroundings  are 
most  distasteful  and  antagonistic  to  his  own  feelings,  *o 
develope  itself  into  that  most  mischievous  of  all  morbid 
fancies — a  belief  that  we  are  superior  to  all  around  us  ;  that 
we  are  crushed  by  want  of  sympathy  in  our  associates  ;  that 
we  are  wasting  our  energies  and  talents  on  work  which  is  far 
too  dull  and  insignificant  for  us  ;  that,  in  order  to  prove  our 
superiority  to  the  persons  and  circumstances  among  which 
our  lot  is  cast,  we  ought  to  assume  a  gloomy  dignity  of 
manner ;  to  shun  this  uncongenial  society,  though  it  be  the 
only  society  within  our  reach ;  and  vent  our  pent-up  feelings 
in  dismal  and  foolish  verses,  or  in  unwholesome  and  tedious 
exposition  of  our  own  misery ;  till  we  succeed  in  exalting  our 
wretched  selves  into  as  corrupt  and  mischievous  idols  as 
it  is  in  the  power  of  man  to  create.  No  doubt  it  would  be 
very  pleasant  if  we  all  could  live  with  persons  whose  tastes 
were  similar  to  our  own ;  who  never  differed  with  us  in 
opinion ;  who  never,  morally,  trod  on  our  corns ;  among  cir- 
cumstances which  never  jarred  upon  our  feelings,  and  duties, 
which  were  no  less  delightful  than  obligatory  to  perform. 
But  the  world  was  not  made  according  to  every  one's  fancy  ; 
and  we  must  accept  it  as  it  is,  with  its  sorrows,  and  its 
uncongenialities,  and  its  duties,  however  unpleasant  they 
may  be.  I  do  not  know  any  phase  of  character,  short  of  that 
of  the  merest  sensualist,  into  which  I  would  more  warn  the 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  13 

young  against  drifting,  than  that  of  the  interesting  victim  of 
uncongeniality.  It  is  bad  enough  in  women,  it  is  worse  in 
men,  because  it  saps  all  capacity  for  practical  usefulness  in 
life.  If  your  mind,  if  your  tastes,  be  superior  to  those  of 
your  friends,  relations,  and  companions,  show  it  by  an  in- 
crease of  courtesy,  of  amiability,  towards  them ;  and  you  will 
find  none,  or  few,  to  dispute  your  superiority.  If  your  duties 
be  distasteful,  even  repulsive  to  you,  so  long  as  they  are  your 
duties,  fulfil  them  as  perfectly  and  as  cheerfully  as  you  can ; 
and  perhaps  in  good  time  you  will  find  yourself  raised  t^ 
higher  ones  more  worthy  of  the  talents  which  you  ma^ 
possess :  but  to  walk  about  with  your  nose  in  the  air,  and  to 
furnace  forth  sighs  —  like  a  self-exhausting  wind-bag — to 
despise  those  about  you  simply  because  you  imagine  yourself 
better  than  them,  and  to  neglect  your  duties  because  you 
think  yourself  too  good  for  them,  can  end  in  nothing  else 
but  in  earning  for  you  the  contempt,  if  not  the  detestation,  of 
your  companions,  and  in  convincing  your  employers,  whoever 
they  may  be,  that  you  are  not  fit  for  any  duties  at  all. 

Briefly  then,  I  would  attribute  the  popularity  of  this  play 
not  only  to  the  inherent  interest  of  the  story  and  the 
dramatic  skill  with  which,  in  spite  of  many  blemishes  of' 
construction,  it  is  developed ;  but  even  more  to  the  sympa- 
thetic character  of  Hamlet  himself:  sympathetic,  because  he 
has  more  in  common  with  mankind  than  any  other  tragic, 
hero ;  because  the  motives  of  his  conduct,  the  idiosyncrasies  , 
of  his  nature,  the  very  blemishes  which  mar  his  virtues,  his 
strength  of  feeling,  his  weakness  in  action,  all  alike  endear 
his  character  to  us.  The  creation  of  the  poet  is  imbued  with 
the  very  essence  of  human  nature,  while  it  is  beautified 
by  the  infusion  of  so  lovable  and  noble  a  spirit,  that  what 
we  instinctively  admire  we  are  also  able  to  comprehend, 
This  is  the  chief  difference  between  real  greatness  and  mere 
excellence,  whether  in  poet,  sculptor,  painter,  or  actor.  The 
great  poet  appeals  not  only  to  the  intellect  which  some  men 
possess,  but  to  the  heart  which  all  possess ;  eveiyone  feels 
the  meaning  of  his  words,  though  everyone  cannot  explain 
it.  I  do  not  deny  that  the  most  exquisitely  finished  style 
in  poetry,  or  in  any  other  art,  is  perfectly  compatible  with 
greatness  ;  but  in  work  that  is  not  only  clever,  but  great,  the 
style  is  subordinate  to  the  matter  ;  regularity  of  metre  and 
precision  of  detail  are  sacrificed  to  nobility  of  thought  and 
beauty  of  subject.  The  most  faultless  poems  and  pictures 
are  rarely  the  noblest.  Genius  is  impatient  of  restriction, 
seeking  truth  in  great,  rather  than  accuracy  in  little  things  ; 


14  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

and  so  it  happens  that  talent  often  exceeds  genius  in  beauty 
of  form,  but  never  in  grandeur  of  imagination.  Talent  is  apt 
to  imitate,  genius  is  sure  to  create ;  but  be  careful  not  to 
fancy  yourselves  geniuses  simply  because  you  are  impatient 
of  conventionality  :  vagueness  and  inaccuracy  are  not  proofs 
of  genius,  though  too  often  the  blemishes  which  detract  from 
its  beauty.  Cultivate  style  as  carefully  as  you  can ;  let  it 
yield,  if  it  must  yield,  to  the  force  of  your  subject,  not  to  the 
weakness  of  your  execution. 

I  have  been  led  to  make  these  remarks,  because  those  who 
detract  from  the  merits  of  Shakespeare's  plays  in  general,  and 
of  "  Hamlet"  in  particular,  are  especially  severe  upon  the 
want  of  regularity  in  the  construction,  and  of  natural  sequence 
in  the  incidents  of  this  tragedy  ;  they  also  delight  in  pointing 
out  the'  ruggedness  of  metre,  and  the  crudeness  of  imagery, 
which  are  to  be  found  in  all  Shakespeare's  works.  There 
is  no  doubt  that  "  Cato,"  for  instance,  that  solemnly  elegant 
tragedy  of  Addison's,  contains  far  fewer  faults  in  scansion 
and  regularity  of  metre  than  "  Shakespeare's  Hamlet ;"  but 
those  persons  who  derive  more  pleasure  from  reading  Cato 
than  from  studying  Hamlet,  must  be  allowed  to  exist,  happy 
in  that  world  of  metrical  proprieties  which  they  have 
chosen  to  occupy ;  for  my  own  part  I  dare  not  attempt  to 
follow  them.  I  have  patiently  read  "  Cato,"  some  of  Eowe's 
afflicting  tragedies,  and  many  others  based  upon  the  same 
models,  which  adorned  the  literature  of  the  last  century. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  every  line  of  these  beautiful  works 
contains  some  very  pretty  language,  and  the  proper  number 
of  feet ;  but  in  very  few  lines  do  they  contain  anything 
which  can  touch  the  heart,  charm  the  imagination,  or  elevate 
the  soul. 

There  is  a  class  of  persons  by  whom  Shakespeare  is  re- 
garded very  much  as  a  young  lady  regards  a  black-beetle,  or 
a  lizard ;  with  them  the  maxim  is  "  omne  ignotum  pro 
horribili ;"  they  have  such  a  horror  of  Nature,  that  if  they  had 
their  own  way  they  would  encase  the  trunks  of  the  trees  in 
petticoats,  drape  the  bare  rocks  with  decent  dimity,  and 
throw  a  veil  over  the  naked  verdure  of  the  turf,  in  the  shape 
of  imitation  Brussels  :  their  timid  aversion  to  Nature  is  in 
exact  proportion  to  their  ignorance  of  her. 

But  Shakespeare  has  been  reviled  by  quite  a  different  order 
of  beings,  of  whom,  perhaps,  the  chief  is  Voltaire.  I  doubt 
if  any  worshipper  of  Shakespeare's  genius  has  ever  done  so 
much  to  exalt  his  ideal,  as  the  malignant  abuse  of  Voltaire's 
powerful  but  cankered  mind  has  done,  I  would  not  wish  to 


A   STUDY  OF   HAMLET.  15 

speak  with  disrespect  of  one  whom  so  many  great  intellects 
regard  with  something  more  than  admiration  ;  but  I  cannot 
consent  to  IOOAV  down  before  a  mind,  however  great  in  itself, 
which  was  degraded  by  him,  to  whom  it  was  given  as  a 
sacred  trust  and  as  a  glorious  responsibility,  to  the  most  foul 
and  ignoble  ends  which  perverted  intellect  ever  sought  to 
accomplish. 

Malone  may  claim  the  merit  of  industry  and  research, 
though  the  application  of  both  is  frequently  -wrong ;  but  as 
a  critic  he  is  unsympathetic.*  He  seems  to  have  criticised 
"  Hamlet "  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  he  would  criticise  his 
grocer's  bill,  examining  all  the  items  to  see  if  they  were 
correct,  and  insisting  that  all  the  articles  should  be  inscribed 
in  clear  and  legible  type.  There  are  many  clever  men  now 
living  who  affect  to  despise  Shakespeare ;  if  they  only 
showed  one-tenth  part  of  the  industry  in  trying  to  compre- 
hend his  many  beauties  which  they  parade  in  ferreting  out 
his  faults,  they  would  earn  more  respect  for  their  capacities 
than  they  do  at  present.  They  are  mostly  men  of  a  type  too 
common,  alas !  now-a-days,  who  seem  just  clever  enough  to 
know  that  they  are  clever,  and  who  use  their  minds  in  such 
a  way  as  to  make  the  truly  wise  and  good  regret  that  they 
ever  had  any. 

The  number  of  commentaries  and  essays  which  have  been 
written  on  the  tragedy  of  "  Hamlet "  is  so  great  that  time  will 
not  allow  me  to  do  more  than  mention  a  very  few  of  those 
which  are  best  worth  your  attention.  Goethe  and  Coleridge 
have  both  exercised  their  powers  of  psychological  analysis  on 
the  character  of  Hamlet ;  I  need  scarcely  say  that  every  one, 
wishing  to  study  this  play  critically,  should  read  every  word 
•which  those  two  intellectual  giants  have  written  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  commentaries  of  Johnson,  Steevens,  and  Malone 
are  very  unequal ;  whatever  is  valuable  in  their  annotations 
will  be  found  in  later  editions  of  Shakespeare,  especially  in 
that  published  by  Eoutledge,  edited  by  Staunton.  Professor 
Kichardson'sf  essay  on  "  Hamlet"  shows  more  correct  appre- 
ciation of  the  beauties  of  the  character  than  any  other  that  I 
have  come  across,  always  excepting  Coleridge's  lecture.  A 
volume  containing  the  plays  of  "  Hamlet "  and  "  As  You  Like 
It,"  published  as  a  specimen  of  a  new  edition  of  Shakespeare, 


*  I  do  not  mean  to  disparage  Malone's  labours  as  an  annotator ;  but  as 
an  aesthetic  critic  of  Shakespeare  I  think  he  has  committed  outrages  on  good 
taste  and  good  sense  which  can  never  be  forgiven.  Steevens  is  worse. 

t  London  :  Samuel  Bagster.     1818, 


16  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

anonymously  by  Thomas  Caldecott,*  contains  some  excellent 
notes.  The  best  text  of  Shakespeare  is  the  Cambridge  edition, 
Macmillan,  1866  ;  a  reprint  of  the  very  rare  quarto,  1603, 
the  first  known  edition  of  "  Hamlet,"  is  given  by  the  editors, 
Messrs.  Clark  and  Wright,  to  whom  all  students  of  Shake- 
speare owe  an  enormous  debt  of  gratitude,  If  I  were  asked 
to  mention  the  best  criticism,  011  the  whole,  which  has  been 
written  on  Shakespeare,  I  am  afraid  I  should  have  to  give 
you  no  English  name,  but  that  of  a  German,  Schlegel.-f  This 
is  something  humiliating  to  our  national  vanity ;  but  I  do"  not 
think  we  need  fear,  now  Germany  has  been  swallowed  up  in 
Prussia,  that  Schlegel,  any  more  than  Goethe  and  Schiller, 
will  find  any  successor.  A  nation  which  allows  itself  to  be 
turned  into  one  large  barrack  must  be  content  with  so  glorious 
an  achievement ;  it  can  well  aiford  to  leave  more  humanizing 
studies  to  those  who  have  the  leisure  to  follow  them. 

When  Hamlet  first  enters,  J  it  is  in  company  with  the  King 
(his  uncle),  the  Queen  (his  mother),  and  their  Court.  Gertrude, 
Hamlet's  mother,  has  married,  within  the  short  space  of  a 
month  after  her  husband's  death,  Claudius,  his  brother  and 
successor.  Why  the  elder  Hamlet  was  not  succeeded,  as  in 
due  course  he  should  have  been,  by  his  only  son,  is  not 
explained  ;  but  we  learn  from  the  King's  speech  to  the  Court, 
that  both  his.  lisurpation  of  the  throne,  and  his  incestuous 
marriage  with  his  brothers  wife,  had  been  sanctioned  by  the 
principal  lords  of  his  council,  whether  willingly  or  under 
compulsion  we  do  iiot  know.  Perhaps  the  comparative  youth 
ofJHamlet,  and  the  fact  that  the  kingdom  was  at  that  time 
threatened  by  an  invasion  of  the  Norwegians  under  young 
Fbl-HribrasTwere  the  reasons  which  induced  the  royal  council- 
lors of  Denmark  to  place  the  sceptre  in  the  hands  of  Claudius, 
who  might  be  supposed  better  able  to  cope  with  so  formidable 
ji_foe. 

The  figure  of  Hamlet,  dressed  in  black,  his  eyes  cast  on 
the  ground,  his  whole  appearance  betraying  the  utmost  dejec- 
tion, the^onjy_niourner_jn  the  brilliant  Court,  at  once  arrests 
the  attention.  We  cannot  wonder  at  his  melancholy  when 
we  consider  the  position  in  which  he  found  himself.  The 
news  of  his  father's  sudden  death  would  have  reached  him  at 
the  University  of  Wittenburg  :  it  is  most  probable  that  the 
first  parting  between  him  and  his  father  had  taken  place 
when  he  went  to  that  town  to  complete  his  education.  He 
hurried  back  on  hearing  the  dreadful  news,  and  naturally 

*  London  :  John  Murray.     Second  edition,  1833  (first  edition,  1819). 
f  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  1.  $  See  Appendix  A. 


A    STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  17 

the  first  person  he  would  seek  in  his  sorrow  was  his  mother.  }( 
We  can  imagine  what  a  terrible  shock  it  must  have  been  to 
his  feelings  when  he  found  her  preparing  for  her  welding 
with  her  late  husbandVbrother,  almostTEefore  that  husland's 
funeral  rites  were  over ;    the   revolting   features   of  such  an 
union  were  intensified  by  the  Indecent  Jiaste  with  which  it 
was  completed     It  is  probable  that  the  revulsion  of  feeling, 
which  such  an  outrage  on  his  father's  memory  would  cause  in 
a  nature  like  Hamlet's,  prevented  him  from  dwelling  on  the     \r 
mortification  which  he  must  have  suffered  on  finding  himself    A 
ousted  from  the  throne  by  his  incestuous  uncle.     It  is  natural^ 
that  Hamlet  should  at  once  have  suspected  that  the  death  of~ 
hjs_fatherjw:aajio_accident  of  nature  ;  the  story  of  a  serpent 
having  stung  him  in  his  sleeep  was  probably  believed  by  very 
few  in  the  Danish  Court,  certainly  not  by  Hamlet.     At  the 
same  time  time,  the  fact  of  Claudius  being  supported  by  the 
chief  lords  of_the  country,  the  imminence  of  war,  and  the 
want  of  any  strong  party  in  the  State  favourable  to  his  own 
succession,  restrained   Hamlet   from  making  any  attempt  to 
claim  his  right. 

Claudius,  very  plausibly  and  with  an  assumption  of  fatherly 
affection,  greets  Hamlet  as  his  son  and  future  successor.  As 
t"  the  suspicion  which  Hamlet  entertained  of  foul  play,  he 
could  take  no  immediate  action  thereon  without  some  evi- 
dence ;  and  his  generous  nature  would  be  hampered  in  any 
such  attempt  by  TEe~colisci6usness  that  such  a  suspicion 
might  springas  much  from  wounded  "vanity, Ton  account  of 
hi£jbejng^epnve3_^Qds  rightsT  as  from  affection  for  his 
fatlief!  The  very  first  words  that  he  speaks  in  reply  to  the 
King,  who  has  addressed  him  as — "  My  son  " 

— a  little  more  than  kin  and  less  than  kind, 

words  probably  intended  to  be  spoken  half  aside,  show  how 
impossible  was  any  reconciliation  betweeja_5tepfather  and 
stepson?  It  is  to  be  remarked  thatHamlet  only  once 
addresses  the  Xing  during  this  first  scene,  and  that  in  the 
sarcastic  answer  to — 

KING.     How  is  it  that  the  clouds  still  hang  on  you  ? 
HAM.     Not  so,  my  lord,  I  am  too  much  i'  the  sun. 

The  very  fact  that  the  King  does  not  dare  to  rebuke  Hamlet 
for  the  marked  manner  in  which  he  ignores  his  advice, 
tendered  as  it  is  with  affected  kindness  ,  shows  Jihat  he  wag 
conscious_fif  his  guilt.  Short  as  the  scene  is  which  precedes 
Hamlet's  first  soliloquy,  nothing  can  be  more  admirable  than 
the  skill  with  which  Shakespeare  at  once  strikes  the  key-note 


18  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

of  his  hero's  character,  and  seizes  hold  of  the  attention  of  his 
hearers.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  while  rebuking  his  mother, 
Hamlet  never  forgets  the  respect  due  to  her  in  presence  of  the 
Sourr-Tit  is  not  "till  he  is  alone  that  his  pent  up  feelings,  the 
passionate  indignation  which  he  has  been  forced  to  conceal, 
burst  forth  in  this  magnificent  soliloquy  : 

0,  that  this  too  too  solid  flesh  would  melt, 
Thaw  and  resolve  itself  into  a  dew  ! 
c>u>tJuJUPr  tnat  the  Everlasting  had  not  fix'd 

His  canon  'gainst  self  slaughter  !     0  God  !  God  ! 
How  weary,  stale,  flat  and  iinprofitable 
Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world  ! 
Fie  on't  !  ah  fie  !    'tis  an  unweeded  garden, 
That  grows  to  seed  ;  things  rank  and  gross  in  nature 
Possess  it  merely.     That  it  should  come  to  this  ! 
But  two  months  dead  !  nay,  not  so  much,  not  two  : 
'  So  excellent  a  king  ;  that  was,  to  this, 

Hyperion  tolTsafyr  :  so  loving  to  my  mother, 
That  he  might  not  beteem  the  winds  of  heaven 
Visit  her  face  too  roughly.     Heaven  and  earth  ! 
Must  I  remember  ?  why,  she  would  hang  on  him, 
As  if  increase  of  appetite  had  grown 
By  what  it  fed  on  :  and  yet  within  a  month — 
Let  me  not  think  on't — Frailty,  thy  name  is  woman  !  — 
A  little  month,  or  ere  those  shoes  were  old 
With  which  she  follow'd  my  poor  father's  body, 
Like  Niobe,  all  tears  : — why  she,  even  she, — 
^         0  God  !  a  beast,  that  wants  discourse  of  reason, 

Would  have  mourn'd  longer, — married  with  my  uncle, 

My  father's  brother,  but  no  more  like  my  father 

Than  I  to  Hercules  :  within  a  month  ; 

Ereyet  the  salt  of  most  unrighteous  tears 

Had  left  the  flushing  in  her  galled  eyes, 

She  married.     0,  most  wicked  speed,  to  post 

With  such  dexterity  to  incestuous  sheets  ! 

It  is  not,  nor  it  cannot  come  to  good : 

But  break,  my  heart,  for  I  must  hold  my  tongue  !  * 

How  completely  Hamlet  is  overcome  by  this  torrent  of  con- 
flicting emotions  is  made  evident  from  the  facT~tliat  offthe 
entrance  of  Horatio,  his  bosom  friend,  he  does  not  at  first 
recognise  his  voice ;  the  words  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  well," 
are  spoken  half  mechanically,  with  the  instinctive  courtesy  of 
a  well-bred  prince ;  it  is  not  till  he  has  recovered  himself 
that  he  greets  his  friend  with  all  the  natural  warmth  of  his 
heart,  "  Horatio,  or  I  do  forget  myself."  A  little  afterwards 
there  is  a  slight  touch  which  often  escapes  the  actor.  Horatio 
is  accompanied  by  Marcellus  and  Bernardo,  of  whom  Bernardo 
is  known  to  Hamlet  but  slightly ;  he  answers  the  greeting  of 
Marcellus  less  warmly  than  that  of  Horatio,  but  still  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  show  that  he  is  a  friend  who  enjoys  his  con- 
fidence, "  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you ; "  then  turning  to 

*  See  Appendix  B. 


A  STUDY  OF   HAMLET.  19 

Bernardo,  who  has  not  ventured  to  intrude  himself  upon  his 
prince's  notice,  he  says,  "  Good  even,  Sir ;"  immediately  after 
having  thus  satisfied  the  claims  of  politeness,  he  turns  eagerly 
again  to  Horatio,  of  whose  departure  from  Wittenburg  he  was 
evidently  ignorant.  Though  every  line  of  this  scene  is  worthy 
of  comment,  I  must  not  detain  you  too  long  at  this  stage  of 
our  story.  Hamlet  now  hears  for  the  first  time  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  his  father's  ghost ;  he  does  not  jump  at  once  to 
the  conclusion,  as  a  meaner  nature  w^ouIcTIFave  done,  that  his 
suspicion  of  his  uncle  is  confirmed ;  most  rigidly,  though 
courteously,  he  questions  Horatio  and  the  others  upon  the 
circumstances  under  which  the  spectre  had  appeared ;  he 
binds  all  three  to  silence,  and  when  they  are  gone,  there  is  no 
vulgar  outburst  of  triumph  at  the  justification  of  his  hatred 
for  his  uncle  ;Jie  speaks  a  few  solemn  words  ending  with 
that  grand  expression  of  confidence  in  eternal  justice, 

Foul  deeds  will  rise, 
Though  all  the  earbh  o'erwhelm  them,  to  meii's  eyes. 

In  the  next  scene  night  has  come.  On  the  platform  before 
the  castle,  Hamlet,  accompanied  only  by  Horatio  and  Mar- 
cellus,  the  two  friends  whom  he  could  most  trust,  is  waiting 
anxiously  for  the  hour  when  tliQ  ghost  is  wont  to  appear ; 
the  solemn  silence  is  rudely  broken  by  the  sound  of  revelry 
from  the  castle,  within  whose  walls  the  gross  and  sensual 
Claudius  is  carrying  on  his  usual  revels,  attempting,  like  all 
low  natures,  to  drown  his  conscience  in  drink.  Nothing  can 
be  stronger  than  the  contrast  between  the  gluttony,  and 
animal  brutality,  of  the  murderer,  swilling  toasts  and  watch - 
Ing_"  the  swaggering  up-spring  reels "  to  the  din  of  kettle- 
drums an  6T  trumpets  ;  and  the  son,  with  the  only  two  noble- 
men whom  he  could  trust  of  all  those  who  had  flattered  his 
father  when  alive,  "  and  warmed  themselves  in  the  bountiful 
sunshine  of  his  favour,"  standing,  his  black  cloak,  the  sign 
of  a  heart's  mourning,  wrapped  round  him,  waiting  for  the 
solemn  visitation  of  his  father's  spirit,  whose  warning  voice 
was  soon  to  denounce  the  murderer.  Hamlet  has  scarcely 
had  time  to  condemn,  in  most  eloquent  language,  the  un- 
seemly revelry,  when  the  ghost  appears ;  at  first,  but  for  a 
moment,  Hamlet  is  awe-struck  at  the  supernatural  sight ; 
then  all  his  affection  breaks  forth  in  an  agonised  appeal  to 
the  spectre,  concluding  with  those  wo'rds  which  show  that 
his  is  no  mere  sentimental  grief,  "What  should  we  do?" 
Though  Horatio_before  had  jdared  to  address_the  apparition, 
h"e~how  shows  the  utmost  alarm  at  the  idea  of  Hamlet  fol- 
lowing" it  ;  this  alarm  is  utterly  unselfish ;  it  is  for  his  friend 


20  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

alone  that  he  fears.  The  beautiful  lines  in  which  Hamlet 
rebukes  this  fear  are  well  known  ;  the  passionate  sentences, 
in  which  he  defies  their  interference,  bring  this  scene  to 
a  fitting  conclusion.  The  ghost  disappears,  closely  but 
reverently  followed  by  Hamlet ;  and  the  friends,  shaking 
off  the  terror  of  the  supernatural  in  their  apprehension 
for  their  beloved  prince's  safety,  follow  them  after  a  short 
delay. 

To  a  more  remote  part  of  the  platform,  or  high  ground, 
upon  which  the  castle  stood,  sufficiently  far  away  from  the 
sound  of  the  revelry  of  Claudius  and  his  boon  companions 
to  leave  the  silence  of  the  hour  undisturbed,  save  by  the 
sound  of  the  waves  beating  against  the  rocks  beneath,  the 
ghost  leads  Hamlet.  "  Whither  wilt  thou  lead  me  ?  Speak 
— I'll  go  no  further,"  Hamlet  exclaims,  remembering  the 
warning  of  Horatio.  Then  the  well-known  face,  stamped 
with  more  than  kingly  majesty  of  sorrow,  is  turned  towards 
him,  and  for  the  lirslf~TinTe fThe  spirit r~of  his  father  speaks. 
The  solemnity  of  this  scene  can  never  be  surpassed :  one 
seems  to  hear  in  the  speeches  of  the  ghost  the  grand  diapason 
of  some  supernatural  organ  echoing  from  the  depths  of  the 
unseen  world.  The  rapt  attention  of  Hamlet — the  expression 
of  pity,  "Alas!  poor  ghosC,"  instantly  checked  by  the  sad 
rebuke,  "  Pity  me  not,  but  lend  thy  serious  hearing  to  what  I 
shall  unfold ;"  the  splendid  resonance  of  every  line  which  the 
ghost  utters ;  the  very  apprehension  which  his  first  words 
excite,  lest  he  should  be  recalTecTlo  the  "  sulphurous  and 
tormenting  flames "  before  he  has  completed  the  solemn 
charge  of  vengeance — all  these  circumstances  and  masterly 
touches  of  the  poet  combine  together  to  produce  such  a  vivid 
impression  of  the  supernatural,  as  no  effort  of  the  painter  or 
the  mechanist  could  ever  hope  to  accomplish. 

The  very  few  words  that  Hamlet  utters  during  his  inter- 
view with  his  father's  spirit  not  only  serve  to  intensify  the 
dramatic  effect  of  the  scene,  but  also  to  illustrate  his  cha- 
racter in  the  most  incisive  mariner ;  they  are  just  like  those 
few  magic  strokes  of  li^great  artist's  pencil  which  make  a 
face  that  one  knows  live  before  one.  He-echoes  the  word 
"murder"  in  a  tone  half  of  horror,,  half  of  painful  astonish- 
menffat  the  justification  of  his  suspicions.  The  next  speech, 
tlw  longest  by  which  he  interrupts  the  ghost,  is  most  re- 
markable : — 

Haste  me  to  know't,  that  I,  with  wings  as  swift 
As  meditation  or  the  thoughts  of  love, 
May  sweep  to  my  revenge, 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  21 

Shakespeare  employs  here — not  by  accident,  I  think — as  illus-  \ 
trations  of  that  swiftness  of.'  notion,  the  want  of  which  becomes 
afterwards  the  most  prominent  defect  in  Hamlet's  character, 
those  two  very  distinctive  features  of  his  disposition  which  so 
frequently  retarded  the  execution  of  the  ghost's  commands, 
" meditation "  and  "the  thoughts  of  love:"  an  over-indul- 
genceUfmeditati ng  on  the  innumerable  aspects  of  the  wrong 
which  hejiadjtp  revenge,  and  an  imperfect  power  of  wiping  ) 
out  of  his  life  that  love  which  had  been  the  sweetest  part  of  / 
it,  were,  undoubtedly,  the  two  main  obstacles  in  his  fulfilment 
of  that  purpose  which  the  solemn  interview  with  his  father's 
spirit  had  made,  as  he  believed,  the  one  motive  of  his  life. 
The  only  other  words  he  speaks,  "  Oh,  iny  prophetic  soul,  my 
uncle,"  may  be  regarded  less  as  the  expression  of  gratified 
vanity,  or  malice,  at  finding  that  he  had  at  once  instinctively 
detgcted  the  murderer  of  his  father,  than  as  a  sigh  of  relief  from 
a  generous  hearf,  rejoiced  to  find  that  he  had  not  wronged  one 
who  had  given  him  the  greatest  cause  for  resentment. 

The  echo  of  the  spirit's  sad  farewell,  "  Adieu,  adieu,  adieu  ; 
remember  me,"  has  scarcely  died  away  before  the  tension  of 
nerves  from  which  Hamlet  has  suffered  during  that  most 
pathetic  address  is  relieved  by  that  outburst  of  passionate 
emotion,  which,  singular  to  state,  most  of  the  representatives 
of  Shakespeare's  Hamlet,  on  the  stage,  have  either  omitted  to 
a  great  extent,  or  have  deformed  into  a  mere  interjection  : 

HAM.  O  all  you  host  of  heaven  !     O  earth  !  what  else  ? 

And  shall  I  couple  hell  ?     0,  fie  !  hold,  hold  my  heart  ; 

And  you,  my  sinews,  grow  not  instant  old, 

But  bear  me  stiffly  up.     Remember  thee  ! 

Ay,  thou  poor  ghost,  while  memory  holds  a  seat 

In  this  distracted  globe.     Remember  thee  ! 

Yea,  from  the  table  of  my  memory 

I'll  wipe  away  all  trivial  fond  records, 

All  saws  of  books,  all  forms,  all  pressures  past, 

That  youth  and  observation  copied  there  ; 

And  thy  commandment  all  alone  shall  live 

Within  the  book  and  volume  of  my  brain, 

Unmix'd  with  baser  matter  :  yes,  by  heaven  ! 

0  most  pernicious  woman  !    - 

0  villain,  villain,  smiling,  damned  villain  ! 
My  tables, — meet  it  is  I  set  it  down, 

That  one  may  smile,  and  smile,  and  be  a  villain  ; 
At  least  I'm  sure  it  may  be  so  in  Denmark.     ( Writing.) 
So,  uncle,  there  you  are.     Now  to  my  word  ; 
It  is  "Adieu,  adieu  !  remember  me." 

1  have  sworn  't.* 

Here  we  have  at  once  the  evidence  of  Hamlet's  titanic 
strength  of  feeling,  and  the  foreshadowing  of  that  convulsion 

•  *  See  Appendix  C. 


22  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

of  the  mind  which  renders  his  sj.mulation  of  madness  almost 
a  necessity.  He  seems  to  feel  that  The  task  imposed  upon 
him  is  so  terrible  that  he  can  find  no  room  in  his  life  for  any 
other  pursuit,  affection,  or  passion. 

Study,  speculation,  philosophy,  love,  must  all  yield  to  this 
one  great  purpose ;  and  there  is  jno  doubt  that  had  the  guilty 
Claudius  entered  at  that  moment,  the  murder  of  King  Hamlet 
would  have  been  instantly  avenged.  But  while  his  mind  is 
still  surging  with  the  agitation  into  "which  the  ghost's  narra- 
tive has  plunged  it,  the  voices  of  his  friends  are  suddenly 
heard ;  and  the  necessity  for  concealment  at  once  engrosses 
his  faculties,  causing  him  to  check  himself,  when  he  is  on  the 
very  point  of  bestowing  upon  them  that  confidence  which 
alone  could  have  relieved  his  over-charged  heart.  The  con- 
clusion of  this  scene  has  been  more  misunderstood  by  the 
exponents  of  Hamlet  in  the  theatre,  and  by  the  students  of 
his  character  in  the  closet,  than  any  other  portion  of  the 
tragedy,  except  one — the  scene  with  Ophelia. 

Coleridge  has  expressed  in  one  sentence  what  seems  to  me 
the  whole  gist  of  the  scene  :  "  For  you  may  perhaps  observe 
that  Hamlet's  wildness  is  but  half  false  ;  he  plays  that  subtle 
trick  of  pretending  to  act  only  when  he  is  very  near  really  being 
what  he  acts."  I  cannot  agree  with  Coleridge  that  the  subterra- 
nean  speeches  of  the  ghost  "are  nearly  indefensible;"  they  seem 
to  me  to  be  absolutely  necessary,  in  order  to  bring  out  that 
feverish  anxiety  to  conceal  from  all  others  the  solemn  revela- 
tion which  he  has  received ;  an  anxiety  which  induces  Hamlet 
to  hurry  Horatio  and  Marcellus  away  from  each  spot  whence* 
the  voice  seems  to  come,  forgetting  that  he  alone  can  hear  it; 
and  gives  hkn  time  for  maturing  hastily,  but  effectually,  that 
scheme,  by  which  alone  he  perceives  that  he  can  preserve  his 
freedom  of  action,  and  give  to  his  over-taxed  mind  that  relief 
which  is  absolutely  necessary,  if  it  is  not  utterly  to  lose  its 
balance,  However  strange  or  odd  he  may  bear  himself  in 
future,  these  two  trustworthy  friends,  at  least,  are  secure  to 
him  as  allies  ;  for  they  will  not  be  surprised  at  those  "  antic 
dispositions  ;"  but  will  accept,  wholly  and  sincerely,  as  an 
assumption  that  which  may  be  assumed  indeed  at  some  times, 
but  at  others  will  be  only  the  inevitable_indulgence  of  a  mind 
filled  with  so  terrible  a  purpose,  :EKaFthe  relief  of  eccentricity 
becomes  absolutely  necessary  to  its  healthy  existence. 

Nothing  can  be^~more  affectmg"l:han  the~mixture  here 
presented — the  forced  employment  of  a  cunning  most  repul- 

*  See  Additional  Notes,  No,  2  A. 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  23 

sive  to  his  own  over-frank  character,  and  those  touching 
appeals  to  the  affection  of  his  friends  which  would  "be  the 
natural  relief  of  his  sensitive  nature — 

So,  gentlemen, 

With  all  my  love  I  do  commend  me  to  you  : 
\  And  what  so  poor  a  man  as  Hamlet  is 

May  do,  to  express  his  love  and  friending  to  you, 
\       God  willing,  shall  not  lack.     Let  us  go  in  together  ; 
\     And  still  your  fingers  on  your  lips,  I  pra}*. 
\yThe  time  is  out  of  joint :  0  cursed  spite  ! 
VThat  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right ! 
Nay,  come,  let's  go  together. 

Between  the  first  and  second  acts  an  interval  of  time  occurs, 
the  exact  length  of  which  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining  ;* 
but  that  it  consisted  of  several  days,  at  least,  is  evident  from 
tli e  fact  that_the_ajmbassadors MbaJSor way liad  time  to  fulfil 
their  mission,  and  to  return ;  also  that  the  King  and  Queen 
had  time,  after  having  observed  Hamlet's  altered  demeanour, 
to  procure  the  presence  of  Itosencrantz  and  Guildenstern, 
most  probably  from  Witt  enburg.  How  Hamlet  employed  this  in- 
terval is  to  us  the  important  question  ;  lie  seems  to  have  taken 
no  stepjtowards  the  fulfilment  of  the  ghost's  charge,  except  the 
consistent  assumption  of  that  eccentricity  and  humorous  melan- 
choly, by  which  he  hoped  to  gain  a  character  for  harmless  oddity ; 
ToFwlTcan  hardly  use  such  a  strong  term  as  madness,  though 
Polonius  most  wisely  expounds  the  reasons  why  he  is  mad. 
The  ingenious  Mr.  Malone  says  that  nothing  could  be  more 
foolish  than  Hamlet's  assumption  of  madness,  because  that 
was  the  very  way  to  provoke  the  King  to  place  him  under 
restraint,  and  so  prevent  his  doing  anything  to  revenge  his 
father's  death.  If  Hamlet  had  counterfeited  what  doctors 
call  the  homicidal  mania,  this  remark  would  have  ueen  a  very 
sensible  one ;  for  Mr.  Malone-,  whose  only  eccentricity  took 
the  perfectly  innocent  form  of  very  dull  criticism,  would  pro- 
bably regard  such  an  odd  character  as  Hamlet  as  a  dangerous 
lunatic ;  but  King  Claudius  was  not  so  sensitive  on  this 
point  as  Mr.  Malone,  and  when  he  saw  that  his  nephew 
was  by  turns  melancholy  and  satirical,  that  he  courted  soli- 
tude and  shrank  from  taking  part  in  any  of  the  Court 
festivities,  but  that  he  never  attempted  to  injure  himself 
or  anybody  else^he  could  have  no  pretext  for  depriving  him 
of  his  liberty.  _  He  was~  naturally  anxious  to  conciliate 
"Hamlet  because,  after  all,  the  young  prince  was  loved  by  the 
people,  and^  Claudius  dared  not  show  any  open  animosity 

See  Additional  Notes,  No,  2. 


24  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

against  him;*  it  was  his  object  to  conceal  his  crime,  which 
was,  as  he  believed,  known  only  to  himself ;  though  he  in- 
stinctively felt  that  the  son  of  his  murdered  brother  suspected 
him. 

The  most  important  step  which  Hamlet  had  taken  was  the 
resolution  to  break  olf  his  affectionate  relations  with  Ophelia. 
The  struggle  must  have  been  a  very  severe  one.  The  meddle- 
some omciousness  of  Polonius  in  compelling  his  daughter  to 
cease  all  correspondence  with  the  young  prince,  as  being  above 
her  sphere,  was  a  piece  of  diplomacy  by  which  he  hoped  to 
obtain  an  explicit  proposal  for  her  hand  ;  the  shallow  mean- 
ness of  which  device  Hamlet  most  probably  saw  through. 
This  forcible  severance  of  all  communication  between  Ophelia 
and  himself  seemed  a  plausible  reason  enough  for  Hamlet's 
melancholy  ;  but  we  know  it  had  little  or  nothing  to  do  with 
it ;  and  we  may  be  sure  that  it  had  less  to  do  with  his  aban- 
donment of  his  love-suit.  On  the  day  on  which  the  second 
act  commences  we  have  Ophelia's  vivid  and  beautiful  descrip- 
tion of  the  last  interview,  if  we  may  call  it  so,  that  took 
place  between  them  : — 

OPH.    My  lord,  as  I  was  sewing  in  my  closet, 

Lord  Hamlet,  with  his  doublet  all  unbraced, 

No  hat  upon  his  head,  his  stockings  foul'd, 

Un^aiter'd  and  down-gyved  to  his  ankle  ; 

Pale  as  his  shirt,  his  knees  knocking  each  other, 

And  with  a  look  so  piteous  to  purport 

As  if  he  had  been  loosed  out  of  hell 

To  speak  of  horrors,  he  comes  before  me. 
POL.    Mad  for  thy  love  ? 
OPH.  My  lord,  I  do  not  know, 

But  truly  1  do  fear  it. 
;•         POL.  What  said  he  ? 

. '.  Ophelia's  modest  expression  of  her  belief  contrasts  beauti- 
fully with  the  pompous  assurance  of  Polonius.  She  goes 
on — 

Orir.    He  took  me  by  the  wrist  and  held  me  hard  ; 
Then  goes  he  to  the  length  of  all  his  arm. 
And  with  his  other  hand  thus  o'er  his  brow, 
He  falls  to  such  perusal  of  my  face 
As  he  would  draw  it.     Long  stayed  he  so  ; 
At  last  a  little  shaking  of  mine  arm, 
And  thrice  his  head  thus  waving  and  up  and  down, 
He  raised  a  sigh  so  piteous  and  profound 


See  Act  IV.,  Sc.  3  (King's  Speech): 

3  strong  law  c 
ited  multitudi 

—Et  scq 


Yet  must  not  we  put  the  strong  law  on  him  : 
He's  loved  of  the  distracted  multitude. 


Also  (in  same  Act)  Sc.  VII.,  lines  18-24. 


A   STUDY   OF   HA.MLETV  '2~> 

As  it  did  seem  to  shatter  all  his  bulk, 
And  end  his  being  :  that  done,  he  lets  me  go  : 
And  with  his  head  over  his  shoulder  turn'd, 
He  seem'd  to  find  his  way  without  his  eyes  ; 
For  out  o'  doors  he  went  without  their  helps, 
And  to  the  last  bended  their  light  on  me. 

Now,  the  question  is,  what  was  in  Hamlet's  mind  when  he 
gave  way  to  this  violent  agitation  ?  It  has  been  said  by  some 
commentators  that  he  behaved  in  this  extraordinary  manner 
in  order  to  jmjjress_  upon  Ophelia's  simple  nature  the  belief 
that  lie  was  mad  ;  T  cannot  but  think  that  Shakespeare  meant 
something  more  than  this.  Since  his  interview  with  the 
Ghost,  Hamlet's  mind  had  been  dwelling  upon  his  father's  sad 
fate,  and  upon  his  mother's  atrocious  infidelity.  What  a  fear- 
ful shock  it  must  havc~¥eon  to hisjiffectionate  natuFe~to"  know- 
that  the~inolhbr  whuin  lle^iiaji_sjOav£d  ami  reverenced  had 
been  false  to  a  husband  so  noble,  so  gentle,  so  loving,  that  the 
abandoned  woman  inight_Ji^y^__^lrjnin]cJxom  diskoiiaiir- 
ingnin!  Tiie  revelation  of  such  a  hideous  fact  might  have 
forced  alar  stronger  nature  than  Hamlet's  to  abandon  all  faith 
in  womankind—.  During  those  days  of  mental  agony,  when 
he  might  have  looked  for  the  gentle  consolation  of  her  he 
loved,  he  was  left  to  suffer  alone,  uncheered,  save  by  the 
occasional  company  and  the  heartfelt  sympathy  of  one  true 
friend,  Horatio.  At  such  a  time  the  horrid  idea  must  have 
been  present  to  his  mind  that  the  pure  and  innocent  girl  to 
whom  he  had  given  his  first  and  only  love  might  possibly 
grow  up  to  become — most  horrible  thought ! — what  his  mothav 
was._  Doubtless,  his  father  had  often  told  him  of  the  perfect  y 
joy  and  happiness  which  he  had  known  when  he  first  married 
his  young  and  virtuous  bride ;  she  had  been  no  less  innocent 
and  no  less  pure,  no  less  single-minded  in  her  devotion  to  her 
betrothed  than  Ophelia  ;  and  yet  what  had  she  become  ?  No 
wonder  that  with  such  a  terrible  thought  ever  haunting  him, 
Hamlet  forgot  to  carry  out  the  command  which  his  father's 
spirit  had  enjoined.  When  he  escaped  from  this  mental  tor- 
ture, another  difficulty  stared  him  in  the  face  ;  he  knew  his 
weakness,  no  one  better ;  could  he  pursue  the  sweet  course  of 
love  and  obey  the  Ghost  as  \vell  ?  Could  he  ask  Ophelia  to  link 
herself  withirTTfeTso  insecure,  with  a  heart  and  mind  so  pre- 
occupied, with  a  nature  crushed  under  the  weight  of  such  a 
terrible  responsibility  ?  He  struggled,  and  not  unsuccessfully, 
against  those  hideous  forebodings  as  to  what  Ophelia  might 
become  ;  he  flung  away  all  suspicion  of  her  perfect  purity  ; 
but  one  of  the  two  must  be  given  up,  his  love  or  his  task  oi' 
vengeance.  While  the  struggle  is  going  on  within  him, 

c 


u 


26  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

while  his  heart-  strings  are  snapping  asunder,  pale  and  trem- 
bling beneath  the  tempest  of  emotion,  he  bursts  into  the 
chamber  of  his  love,  like  the  apparition  of  some  terrible 
transformation  of  himself  ;  he  holds  her  by  the  wrist  ;  he 
gazes  into  her  eyes,  as  though  lie  would  read  the  very  depth 
of  her  nature,  as  if  he  would  know  the  full  beauty  of  that 
heart  which  he  is  giving  up  for  ever  ;  he  cannot  trust  himself 
to  .speak  ;  his  frame  is  convulsed  with  a  sigh  so  piteous  and 
profound  that  it  seemed  to  shatter  his  very  body,  a  sigh  which 
v/  was  the  cry  of  a  breaking  heart  ;  without  removing  his  gaze 
from  her,  whom  he  was  never  to  look  on  again  with  the  eyes 
of  love,  he  vanishes  from  the  room,  unable  to  utter  the  awful 
sentence  of  death  to  his  love  which  his  heart  had  pronounced. 
I  must  here  allude  to  a  question  which  it  would  be  more 
pleasant  to  pass  over  altogether,  were  such  a  course  not 
capable  of  misconstruction  ;  some  people  have  held,  and  other's 
hold  still,  the  monstrous  opinion  that  Hamlet  was  guilty  of  the 
ruin  of  Ophelia.*  This  accusation,  which  betrays  ignorance  of 
this  play  itself,  and  an  utter  inability  to  comprehend  Shake- 
speare's mode  of  working,  is  easily  refuted.  It  rests  upon  the 
verses  of  some  idle  song,  caught  up,  probably,  from  her  nurse, 
which  Ophelia  innocently  sings  in  her  madness.  Nobody  can 
examine  the  scenes  between  Polonius  and  Ophelia,  Laertes 
and  his  sister,  or  that  between  her  and  Hamlet,  without 
seeing  at  once  that  this  accusation  is  utterly  groundless. 
Shakespeare  would  not  have  wantonly  introduced  such  a  foul 
stain  upon  Hamlet's  character  without  using  it  for  some 
dramatic  purpose.  The  suggestion  of  vice  is  a  delicacy  of 
modern  date.  Hamlet's  love  for  Ophelia  was  pure  and 
honourable  ;  and  any  one  who  thinks  the  contrary  is  not  to 
be  envied.  For  my  own  part,  whatever  objection  may  bo 
taken  to  the  song  alluded  to,  I  cannot  but  think  that  it  is  one 
of  Shakespeare's  most  delicate  touches  in  the  sweetly  innocent 
character  of  Ophelia,  that  when  her  unhappy  mind  is  so  dis- 
traught with  grief  for  her  father,  and  her  reason  is  overthrown, 
she  should  repeat,  with  such  simple  child-like  ignorance  of 
their  meaning,  the  verses  which  probably  she  had  never  heard 
since  she  was  being  dandled  on  her  nurse's  knee,  and  which, 
in  her  right  senses,  she  might  never  have  remembered. 

As  I  am  now  treating  of  the  relations  between  Hamlet  and 
Ophelia,  it  would  be  better  to  go  at  once  to  that  scene  at  the 
beginning  of  the  third  act,  which  has  caused  so  many  difficul- 
ties both  to  actors  and  critics.  It  is  very  necessary  for  the 
right  understanding  of  this  scene  that  we  should  carefully 
observe  what  has  gone  before.  (  Polonius,  having  come  to  the 
*  See  Appendix  D. 


A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  27 

conclusion  from  what  Ophelia  has  told  him,  and  from  letters  of 
Hamlet's  to  her  which  he  has  found,  that  the  cause  of  Harn- 
let's  madness  is  simply  love  for  his  daughter,  proposes  that 
Ophelia  should  place  herself  in  the  gallery,  or  lobby,  in  which 
Hamlet  is  accustomed  to  walk  for  hours  together  ;  and  that 
the  King  and  he  should  conceal  themselves  behind  the  arras 
and  watch  the  result ;  "  if,"  Polonius  says,  "  he  love  her  not," 

And  be  not  from  his  reason  fall'n  thereon, 
Let  me  be  no  assistant  for  a  state, 
But  keep  a  farm  and  carters. 

This  proposal  is  carried  out ;  Ophelia  is  given  a  book  and 
told  to  read  it — 

That  show  of  such  an  exercise  may  colour 
Your  loneliness. 

C~n  fact  she  is  made  a  party,  a  direct  and  conscious  party  to 
trap  set  for  her  lover. 

Hamlet  enters,  debating  \vith^  himself  the,  question  of 
suicide  in  that  well-known  soliloquy,  "  To  be,  or  not  to  be," 
&c.,  atjhe  end  of  which  he  turns  and  sees  Ophelia  seemingly 
in  prayer.  I  think _it_  extremely  probable  that  Ophelia  is 
intended  really  to  be  praying  for  the  unhappy  prince,  whose' 
agitation  during  the  soliloquy  she  cannot  fail  to  have  observed. 
Hamlet  accosts  her  with  serious  but  kindly  courtesy — 

Nymph,  in  thy  orisons 
Be  all  my  sins  remember'd. 

Ophelia  answers— 

Grood,  my  lord, 
How  does  your  honour  for  this  many  a  day  ? 

Except  in  that  awful  interview  which  she  has  described  to 
Polonius,  during  which,  as  you  remember,  Hamlet  never 
spoke,  Ophelia  has  not  seen  him  for  some  time.  Hamlet 
answers  as  if  wishing  to  check  any  inquiry  into  the  cause  of 
his  apparent  illness,  "  I  humbly  thank  you  :  well." 

OPH.  My  lord,  I  have  remembrances  of  yours, 
That  I  have  longed  long  to  re-deliver  ; 
I  pray  you,  now  receive  them. 

She  had  probably  been  instructed  by  her  father  to  return 
Hamlet's  presents.  Hamlet  determined  to  avoid  the  discus- 
sion of  a  very  painful  question,  perhaps  also  to  ignore  the 
fearful  state  of  agitation  in  which  he  had  been  when  he  last 
saw  Ophelia,  and  shrinking  from  definitely  breaking  off  all 
affectionate  relations  between  them,  denies  having  given 
these  gifts  to  Ophelia — 

No,  not  I  ; 

I  never  gave  you  aught. 
OPH.  My  honour'd  lord,  you  know  right  well  you  did  ; 

C    2 


28  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

And  with  them  words  of  so  sweet  breath  composed  ; 
As  made  the  things  more  rich  :  their  perfume  lost, 
Take  these  again.;  for  to  the  noble  mind 
Rich  gifts  wax  poor  when  givers  prove  unkind. 
There,  my  lord. 

At  this  point,  just  as  Ophelia  is  going  Ho  force  back  oil 
Hamlet  the* sweet  remembrances  of  his  love,  the  fussy  old 
Polonius,  who  has  been  fidgeting  behind  the  arras,  anxious  to 
see  the  result  of  his  most  notable  device,  pops  his  head  out,  and 
in  so  doing  drops  his  chamberlain's  staff :  Hamlet  hears  the 
noise,  and  instantly  suspects  the  truth,  that  he  is  being  made 
the  object  of  an  artfully  devised  scheme  to  entrap  him  into 
spnae  confession  of  his  secret.  His  suspicions  had  been  already 
Caroused  by  the  manifest  constraint  of  Ophelia's  manner  ;  at 
the  same  time  his  heart  had  been  deeply  touched  at  the 
equally  manifest  emotion  under  which  she  laboured.  True, 
she  was  acting  a  part ;  but  she  was  speaking  from  her  own 
heart  when  she  alluded  to  the  sweet  words  of  love  which  had 
accompanied  Hamlet's  presents,  when  she  recalled  the  happy 
hours  she  had  spent  with  him  before  this  mysterious  shadow 
had  fallen  on  his  life.  We  may  imagine  that,  but  for  his 
worst  suspicions  being  aroused  by  the  evidence  that  he  was 
being  watched,  he  would  have  spoken  to  Ophelia  with  the 
greatest  affection  ;  now,  however,  it  is  with  a  rude  revulsion 
of  feeling  that  he  treats  her  as  a  party  to,  indeed  as  the  chief 
agent  of,  the  deception  contrived  against  him  :j  all  that  fol- 
lows is  couched  in  half  enigmatical  satire,  the  sting  of  which 
is  fully  to  be  comprehended  only  by  the  guilty  Claudius. 
Hamlet,  who  guesses  he  is  one  of  the  parties  concealed,  speaks 
at  the  King,  as  it  were,  the  threats  he  dare  not  utter  to  his 
face :  at  the  same  time  there  is  a  wild  incoherence  about 
Hamlet's  words  which  can  only  serve  to  bewilder  the  hearers 
as  to  the  real  cause  of  his  condition. 

After  warning  Ophelia  against  believing  any  man,  thereby 
conveying  a  delicate  rebuke  of  her  deceitfulness,  Hamlet  is 
about  to  leave  her  with  the  words — 

Go  thy  ways  to  a  nunnery. 

He  is  crossing  the  stage,  when  his  eye  falls  on  that  part  of 
the  arras  whence  the  noise  had  proceeded,  and  he  is  instantly 
struck  by  some  such  thoughts  as  these  :— 

"  Have  I  been  right  in  suspecting  this  innocent  maiden  of 
being,  knowingly,  a  party  to  such  a  contemptible  trick  ?  Caii 
she,  whose  pure  and  open  nature  I  so  loved,  be  capable  of 
such  paltry  disingenuous  conduct-?  No!  before  I  condemn 
her  I  will  put  her  to  the  plain  proof," 


A   STUDY    OF    HAMLKT.  29 

He  turns  round  and  holds  out  his  hands  towards  her ;  she, 
forgetting  her  part,  thinking,  poor  girl,  he  is  going  to  take 
her  to  his  breast  and  forgive  her,  flies  across  to  him  ;  lie 
checks  her  with  his  outstretched  hand,  and  holding  hers,  he 
looks  straight  into  her  eyes,  as  only  one  who  loves  her  has  a 
right  to  look  into  a  maiden's  eyes,  ard  he  solemnly  asks  her 
the  question,  "  Where  is  your  lather  ? "  What  can  she 
answer  ?  Once  committed  to  deceit  there  is  no  escape  from 
it.  She  would  fain  tell  the  truth,  but  she  dares  not ;  she  ^ 
thinks  it  would  be  disobedience  to  her  father,  and  unkindness  \^ 
to  her  poor  distracted  lover,  were  she  to  do  so.  With  down- 
cast eyes  and  blushing  cheek,  with  hands  relaxing  their 
grasp,  escaping  from  the  touch  of  him  she  loves  so  well,  she 
falters  out  her  first  lie,  "  At  home,  my  lord."  There  is  a  little 
pause ;  then  with  a  sigh,  as  his  last  hope  in  the  truthfulness 
of  one  woman  at  least  dies  in  him,  he  drops  her  hand,  saying 
with  solemn  sternness — 

Let  the  doors  be  shut  upon  him,  that  he  may  play  the  fool  nowhere  but 
in's  own  house.  Farewell. 

Ophelia,  who  sees  in  this  strange  answer  nothing  but  the 
sign  of  a  noble  mind  o'erthrown,  utters  the  simple  prayer — 

0,  help  him,  you  sweet  heavens  ! 

But  now  indignation  has  taken  the  place  of  sorrow  with 
Hamlet,  and  he  bursts  into  a  bitter  denunciation  of  the  follies  v 
and  petty' deceits  of  women;  lashing  those  very  faults  from 
which  Ophelia  seemed,  and  was  indeed,  freest  \\  so  that  she 
can  feel  no  pain  and  anger  on  her  own  account,  all  that  she 
can  feel  is  the  agony  of  grief  at  seeing  her  sweetest  hope  for 
ever  ended,  her  worst  fears  too  fully  confirmed. 

Whether  the  view  of  this  scene  which  I  have  ventured  to 
put  forward  is,  or  is  not,  the  correct  one,  it  is  at  any  rate  a 
more  consistent  one  than  that  which  would  see  in  these 
speeches  of  Hamlet  nothing  but  brutal  outrages  on  the  feelings 
of  her  whom,  as  he  afterwards  tells  us,  "  he  loved,"  so  that 

—forty  thousand  brothers 
Could  not,  with  all  their  quantity  of  love, 
Make  up  my  sum. 


PART     II. 


THE  consideration  of  Hamlet's  relations  to  Ophelia 
caused  me,  at  the  end  of  my  last  lecture,  to  diverge  from  the 
regular  course  of  the  play,  which  up  to  that  point  we  had 
followed  pretty  closely.  Having  endeavoured  to  discover  by 
the  simplest  inductions  what,  or  rather  some  of  what,  had 
taken  place  in  the  interval  between  the  first  and  second  acts, 
I  must  now  revert  almost  to  the  very  commencement  of  the 
second  act,  when  we  first  hear  of  Bosencrantz  and  Guilden- 
stern.  Hamlet's  conduct  towards  these  two  plastic  noblemen 
has  furnished  some  of  the  commentators  with  a  sufficiently 
plausible  text  for  their  denunciations  of  his  moral  character. 
We  shall  see  how  far  these  denunciations  are  justified.  The 
King,  in  welcoming  Kosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  addresses 
them  as  if  they  were  the  two  most  intimate  friends  that 
Hamlet  possessed  ;  his  words  are — 

— I  entreat  you  both, 

That,  being  of  so  young  days  brought  up  with  him 
And  sith  so  neighbour'*!  to  his  youth  and  haviour, 
That  you  vouchsafe  your  rest  here  in  our  court 
Some  little  time  :  so  by  your  companies 
To  draw  him  on  to  pleasures,  and  to  gather 
So  much  as  from  occasion  you  may  glean, 
Whether  aught  to  us  unknown  afflicts  him  thus, 
That  open'd  lies  within  our  remedy. 

The  Queen  adds — 

Good  gentlemen,  he  hath  much  talk'd  of  you, 
And  sure  I  am.  two  men  there  are  not  living 
To  whom  he  more  adheres. 

I  will  only  remark  here  that  it  is  evident  that  Hamlet  had 
taken  both  his  mother  and  his  uncle  very  incompletely  into 
his  confidence,  and  that  neither  of  them  suspected  the  depth 


A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

of  the  friendship,  and  the  completeness  of  the  intimacy,  that 
existed  between  him  and  Horatio. 

The  request  of  both  King  and  Queen  is  couched  in  language 
to  which  no  person  of  an  unsuspicious  and  courteous  disposi- 
tion could  take  exception ;  an  eccentric  nature,  like  Hamlet's, 
might  have  found  some  ground  for  suspicion,  both  in  the 
confidence  with  which  the  request  to  watch  their  friend  is 
preferred,  and  the  readiness  with  which  it  is  granted.  Bosen- 
crantz  and  Guildenstern  leave  the  royal  presence  in  search  of 
Hamlet:  they  find  Polonius  just  coming  away  from  him, 
after  a  rather  unsatisfactory  interview,  in  which  Hamlet  has 
relieved  the  depression  of  his  spirits  by  several  humorous 
sallies  at  the  expense  of  the  Lord  Chamber]ain.  It  would 
seem,  by  the  way,  that  this  functionary,  in  virtue  of  his  office, 
inherits  the  privilege  of  being  the  cause  of  wit  in  others, 
especially  in  playwrights :  the  respectable  successor*  to  the 
dignities  of  Polonius  has,  in  our  own  day,  contrived  to  earn 
the  splendid  distinction  of  infusing  into  the  ghastly  corpse  of 
burlesque  some  faint  spark  of  life ;  having  accomplished  thus 
much,  he  can  hardly  look  back  upon  his  career  without  some 
pardonable  pride ;  for  my  own  part,  I  wish  that  worthy 
nobleman  a  future  of  unblemished  tranquillity.  This  little 
discursion  is  not  quite  so  irrelevant  as  it  may  seem ;  for  we 
know  that  in  the  character  of  Polonius,  Shakespeare  laid  the 
irreverent  cudgel__of  his  satire  on  the  sacred  back  of  no  less 
a  personage  than  Lord  Burleigh.  I  must  guard  myself,  how- 
ever, from  the  suspicion  of  any  intention  to  infer  that  the 
ridicule,  of  which  Lord  Sydney  has  been  made  the  object  by 
the  facetious  writers  of  our  day,  is  of  equal  gravity  with  the 
satire  levelled  by  Shakespeare  against  Lord  Burleigh ;  any 
more  than  the  office  of  Lord  High  Treasurer,  in  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  can  be  held  to  be  of  equal  importance  with 
that  of  Lord  High  Chamberlain  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria. 

The  tedium  which  Polonius  has  inflicted  upon  Hamlet 
renders  more  natural  the  gleeful  satisfaction  with  which  he 
receives  his  young  friends ;  after  some  pleasantries  which 
were  better  omitted,  Hamlet  inquires 

What's  the  news  ? 

He  follows  up  this  question  with  another,  in  which  he 
strikes  the  key-nott3  of  his  own  misery  ;  he  talks  of  Denmark 
as  a  prison,  and  pursuing  the  same  train  of  thought,  finds  but 
little  sympathy  from  the  two  courtiers  ;  this  awakens  his 
suspicion.  It  is  generally  the  case,  when  the  mind  of  any 

*  This  was  written  when  Lord  Sydney  was  in  office. 


A   STUDY   OF    HAMLET.  .".:'. 

person  is  dwelling  morbidly  on  one  idea,  that  coldness,  if  not 
repugnance,  is  immediately  occasioned  towards  those  from 
whom  he  can  elicit  no  fellow-feeling  with  his  dominant  idea. 
The  impatience  with  which  Hamlet  reiterates  his  demand 
for  a  straightforward  answer  to  the, question, 

what  make  you  at  Elsinore  ? 

shows  how  much  on  the  alert  is  his  wounded  sensitiveness. 
The  earnestness  of  his  appeal  seems  almost  out  of  proportion 
to  the  matter  in  hand  ;  he  resents  every  attempt  at  equivoca- 
tion, however  polite  : — 

Were  you  not  sent  for  ? 

then,  getting  no  direct  answer, 

You  were  sent  for — 
I  know  the  good  king  and  queen  have  sent  for  you. 

Repulsed  again — 

But  let  me  conjure  you,  by  the  rights  of  our  fellowship,  by  the  con- 
sonancy  of  our  youth,  by  the  obligation  of  our  ever-preserved  love,  and  by 
what  more  dear  a  better  proposer  could  charge  you  withal,  be  even  and 
Direct  with  me,  whether  you  were  sent  for,  or  no. 

At  this  point  Hamlet  steps  back  some  little  distance  from 
the  two,  and  eyes  them  with  a  piercing  glance  :  they  are  poor 
actors,  these  two  supple  courtiers ;  and  they  look  vacantly, 
one  to  another,  for  suine  answer  to  this  unpleasantly  direct 
appeal.  Straightforwardness  is  not  their  forte  ;  they  have  the 
shiftiness  of  diplomacy,  not  its  cunning.  Hamlet's  aside, 

^      Nay,  then,  I  have  an  eye  of  you, 

shows  that  he  has  read  their  hearts.     To  his  last  appeal, 

If  you  love  me,  hold  not  off 

they  are  not  proof.  The  shame-faced  confession  reluctantly 
oozes  from  them  under  the  pressure  of  a  single-purposed 
mind — 

My  lord,  we  were  sent  for. 

Hamlet's  object  is  gained,  but  his  confidence  in  these  two  } 
is  gone  for  ever ;  through  the  rest  of  the  scene  he  treats  them  v 
with  a  most  gracious  courtesy ;  he  seeks  to  efface  the  memory 
of  his  rude  directness,  but  his  demeanour  to  them  lacks  that 
genuine  warmth,  that  ingenuous  heartiness,  which   invari- 
ably distinguishes  his  intercourse  with  Horatio.     Whether 
his    sensitiveness    and    his    suspicion    were    alike    morbid 
and     overstrained,     results     must     show.         To     him     the 
words    "He    who    is    not    for    me    is    against   me"    were 


k 


.54  A    S'lTDY    "F    HAMLET. 

terribly  true;  to  him  there  were  only  two  sides  to  every 
question  —  only  two  principles  for  every  action  ;  every  one 
with  whom  he  came  into  contact  must  either  side  with  him 
in  his  devotion  to  his  father's  memory,  or  with  the  King  jind 
Queen  in  their  treason  to  that  memory.  It  is  pretty  evident 
to  Hamlet,  from  this  first  interview  with  Eosencrantz  and 
Guildenstern,  which  side  they  had  chosen. 

There  are  two  things  I  wish  particularly  to  notice  in  this 
scene  ;  one  is  that  Hamlet  makes  a  distinct  allusion  to  the 
contempt  with  which  he  is  treated  at  Court  ;  when  both  his 
young  friends  offer  to  wait  upon  him,  he  replies,  "  I  will  not 
sort  you  with  the  rest  of  my  servants  ;  for,  to  speak  to  you 
li^.  an  honest  man,  I  am  most  dreadfully  attended."* 
^Another  point  is,  that  during  the  whole  of  his  conversation 
with  them  Hamlet  does  not  assume  the  madman  ;  all  that  he 
says  is  full  of  humour,  of  satire,  and  notably  in  one  instance, 
the  speech  in  which  he  accounts  for  his  melancholy,  it  is  full 
of  poetry.  He  hints  to  them  over  and  over  again  that  the 
real  cause  of  his  estrangement  from  all  the  gaieties  of  the 
Court  is  to  be  found  in  the  conduct  of  the  King  and  Queen, 
but  he  never  gets  from  them  the  slightest  expression  of 
sympathy  ;  they  are  consistent  courtiers,  and  the  rising  sun 
of  to-day  blinds  them  to  the  glories  of  the  setting  one  of 
yesterday.  In  the  last  playful  speech  he  addresses  to  them, 
before  the  re-entering  of  Polonius,  he  seems  to  warn  them 
against  lending  themselves  to  any  system  of  espionage  on  the 
part  of  the  King  and  Queen  :— 

my  uncle-father  and  aunt-mother  are  deceived. 

With  an  assumption  of  amiable  imbecility,  they  answer  — 

In  what,  my  dear  lord  ? 

answers  — 


I  am  but  mad  north-north-west  :  when  the  wind  is  southerly  I  know  a 
hawk  from  a  hands  aw.  t 

Had  they  taken  this  kind  hint,  it  would  have  been  better 
for  them. 

Polonius  now  comes  to  announce  the  arrival  of  the  players  ; 
for  that  we  have  been  prepared,  but  not  for  the  powerfully 
dramatic  use  to  which  Shakespeare  turns  them.  Shaking  off 
the  seriousness,  and  the  -half-gloomy  irony,  which  had  distin- 
guished his  -utterances  while  seeking  to  probe  the  sincerity  of 
his  two  courtier  friends,  Hamlet  gives  the  reins  completely  to 

*  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  3.  t  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  4. 


A   STUDY    OK   HAMLET.  35 

his  spirit  of  mischievous  raillery  against  the  unfortunate  Lord 
Chamberlain.  No  doubt  it  strikes  one  as  rather  ungenerous 
in  a  prince  so  to  treat  one  of  his  father's  old  servants ;  but 
the  devotion  of  Polonius  to  the  usurper  is  so  thorough,  and  so 
zealous,  that  we  may  forgive  Hamlet  if  he  forgets,  as  the  old 
courtier  seems  to  have  forgotten,  that  he  had  ever  rendered 
service  to,  or  received  benefits  ^from,  any  other  master. 
Another  excuse,  as  Coleridge  suggests,  may  be  offered  for 
Hamlet's  apparent  rudeness  to  Polonius ;  and  that  is  the 
grudge  he  would  naturally  bear  against  Ophelia's  father  for 
interfering  so  officiously  between  him  and  "his  love.  Add  to 
these  that  the  prosy,  pragmatical,  self-opinionated,  fussy 
Pplonius,  with  his  conventional  ideas,  his  cowardly .  servility 
to  Claudius,  his  contempt  for  play-actors  as  mere  vagabonds 
allowed  to  exist  on  sufferance,  was  the  absolute  antithesis, 
not  only  of  Hamlet,  but  we  may  venture  to  say  of  Shake- 
speare himself.  In  no  character,  except  perhaps  in  that  of  \ 
Justice  Shallow,  is  there  more  evidence  of  justifiable  personal  \ 

feeling  on  the  part  of  the  poet ;  justifiable,  because  it  is  only 
by  strokes  of  satire  like  this,  in  which  the  personality  of  the 
victim  is  veiled  in  decent  idealism,  in.  which  nothing  affecting 
their  more  private  life  and  sacred  feelings  is  introduced,  that 
oppressed  or  insulted  genius  can  avenge  itself  upon  powerful 
stupidity  and  titled  commonplace. 

Hamlet,  after  some  gracious  recognition  of  his  old  acquaint- 
ances, the  players,  asks  one  of  them  to  repeat  a  certain 
speech  which  describes  the  death  of  Priam  after  the  taking  of 
Troy.  '  To  this  he  listens  most  intently,  and  the  growing 
thoughtfulness  of  his  expression  shows  that  the  words  have 
for  him  some  innerattractioii,  deeper  than  their  mere  dra- 
matic merit  could  give  them.  He  dismisses  the  players, 
under  the  charge  of  Polonius,  cautioning  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain— 

To  use  them  better  than  their  deserts — 

to  treat  them,  in  fact,  with  that  generous  courtesy  with  which 
persons  of  true  honour  and  dignity  ever  treat  their  inferiors, 
conferring  thereby  a  distinction  on  themselves  which  no 
homage  from  the  recipients  of  their  bounty  could  ever  bestow. 
Hamlet  stops  the  player  who  has  spoken  the  speech,  to  ask 
him  an  apparently  trivial  question,  but  of  which  we  soon  see 
the  importance ;  for  once  alone,  and  he  gives  way  to  the 
strong  emotion  which  he  has  so  long  suppressed  ;  he  reveals 
to  us  all  the  Workings  of  his  thoughts  in  that  speech,  which 
is,  perhaps,  the  most  intensely  dramatic  of  all  Hamlet's 
soliloquies. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

ACT  II.— SCENE  2. 
HAM.  Now  I  am  alone. 

0,  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I  ! 

Is  it  not  monstrous  that  this  player  here, 

But  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dream  of  passion, 

Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  own  conceit 

That  from  her  working  all  his  visage  wann'd  ; 

Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in's  aspect, 

A  broken  voice,  and  his  whole  function  suiting 

With  forms  to  his  conceit  ?  and  all  for  nothing  ! 

For  Hecuba  ! 

What's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba, 

That  he  should  weep  for  her  ?     What  would  he  do, 

Had  he  the  motive  and  the  cue  for  passion 

That  I  have  ?     He  would  drown  the  stage  with  teal's 

And  cleave  the  general  ear  with  horrid  speech, 

Make  mad  the  guilty  and  appal  the  free, 

Confound  the  ignorant,  and  amaze  indeed 

The  very  faculties  of  eyes  and  ears. 

Yet  I, 

A  dull  and  muddy-mettled  rascal,  peak, 

Like  John-a-dreams,  unpregnant  of  my  cause, 

And  can  say  nothing  ;  no,  not  for  a  king, 

Upon  whose  property  and  most  dear  life 

A  damn'd  defeat  was  made.     Am  I  a  coward  ? 

Who  calls  me  villain  ?  breaks  my  pate  across  ? 

Plucks  off  my  beard,  and  blows  it  in  my  face  ? 

Tweaks  me  by  the  nose  ?  gives  me  the  lie  i'  the  throat, 

As  deep  as  to  the  lungs  ?  who  does  me  this  ? 

Ha! 

'Swounds,  I  should  take  it  :  for  it  cannot  be 

But  I  am  pigeon  livered  and  lack  gall 

To  make  oppression  bitter,  or  ere  this 

I  should  have  fatted  all  the  region  kites 

With  this  slave's  offal :  bloody,  bawdy  villain  ! 

Remorseless,  treacherous,  lecherous,  kindless  villain  ! 

O,  vengeance  ! 

Why  what  an  ass  am  I  !     This  is  most  brave, 

That  I,  the  son  of  a  dear  father  murder'd, 

Prompted  to  my  revenge  by  heaven  and  hell, 

Must,  like  a  whore,  unpack  my  heart  with  words, 

And  fall  a- cursing,  like  a  very  drab, 

A  scullion  ! 

Fie  upon't !  foh  !     About  my  brain  !     Hum,  I  have  heard 

That  guilty  creatures,  sitting  at  a  play, 

Have  by  the  very  cunning  of  the  scene 

Been  struck  so  to  the  soul  that  presently 

They  have  proclaim'd  their  malefactions  ; 

For  murder,  though  it  have  no  tongue,  will  speak, 

With  most  miraculous  organ.     I'll  have  these  players 

Play  something  like  the  murder  of  my  father 

Before  mine  uncle  :  I'll  observe  his  looks  ; 

I'll  tent  him  to  the  quick  :  if  he  but  blench, 

I  know  my  course.     The  spirit  that  I  have  seen 

May  be  the  devil ;  and  the  devil  hath  power 

To  assume  a  pleasing  shape  ;  yea,  and  perhaps 

Out  of  my  weakness  and  my  melancholy, 

As  he  is  very  potent  with  such  spirits, 

Abuses  me  to  damn  me.     I'll  have  grounds 

More  relative  than  this.     The  play's  the  thing 

Wherein  I'll  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king.  [Exit.* 


*  JSee  Appendix  E. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  37 

Easily  and  naturally  has  Shakespeare  led  up  to  this 
soliloquy,  which  closes  an  act  that  might,  at  first  sight,  seem 
to  threaten  a  falling  off  from  the  former  one ;  for  in  that 
the  interest  excited  by  the  appearance  of  the  Grhost  was  in- 
tense, and  the  entire  dramatic  construction  strikingly  perfect ; 
quite  as  naturally,  in  this  analysis  of  the  workings  of  no 
ordinary  mind  and  heart,  are  the  steps  and  minute  gradations 
of  thought  portrayed,  which  lead  Hamlet  to  form  the  resolu- 
tion with  which  the  speech  concludes. 

First  let  us  observe  that,  while  in  his  first  soliloquy  all  his 
indignation]  was  expended  on  his  mother,  it  is  now  princi- 
pally directed  against  himself ;  at  first  he  was  reflecting  on 
her  incomprehensible  infidelity  and  on  the  treachery  of  his 
uncle;  and  though  in  the  last  words — 

It  is  not,  nor  it  cannot  come  to,  good- 
he  hinted  at  the  suspicions  which  he  entertained,  in  the  very          // 
ne'xt  words  he  acknowledges  that  the  necessity  of  silence  is 
imposed  upon  him — 

But  break  my  heart,  for  I  must  hold  my  tongue, 

Now  all  the  circumstances  are  completely  changed.  The 
most^olemnj3harge  that  could  be  given  to  man — most  solemn 
because  it  wmQcl  seem  that  Nature's  very  laws  had  been  set 
aside  for  the  purpose  of  enjoining  on  him  this  sacred  duty 
7— had  been  given  to  Hamlet  by  the  Spirit  of  that  father  at 

whose  wrongs  he  had  hitherto  been  so  helplessly  indignant — - 

i 

JRevenge  his  foul  and  most  unnatural  murder. 

It  was  imperative  on  him  now,  not  only  to  speak,  but  to  act; 
What  had  he  done?  What  had  he  ever  said  ?  Had  he 
denounced  the  treacherous  murderer.?  ^ad  he  taken  one 
step  to  bring  him  to  justice  ?  Here  was^  a  player,  called  upon 
at  a  moment's  notice  to  repeat  a  speech,  describing  the  suf- 
ferings of  one  utterly  unknown  to  him  ;  of  one  who  had  lived 
so  long  ago  as  almost 'to  be  out  of  the  range  of  human  sym- 
pathy ;  and  yet  in  describing  these  sorrows,  so  great  was  the 
force  of  his  mimic  passion  that  one  of  his  spectators  could 
scarcely  endure  the  sight  of  his  agitation :  if  imaginary 
cruelties,  if  fictitious  wrongs,  could  in  their  very  recital  so 
move  the  narrator,  what  would  he  feel  if  he  had 

The  motive  and  the  cue  for  passion 

that  Hamlet  had?  It  does  not  affect  the  subtlety  of  this 
touch,  on  Shakespeare's  part,  that  the  argument  Hamlet  uses 
was  entirely  a  false  one.  O'alm  reflection  would  have  shown 


38  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

him  that  the  actor's  passion  was  the  result  of  practice  in  his 
art ;  that  in  the  face  of  real  calamity  or  actual  wrong,  he 
might  have  been  as  inactive  as  Hamlet  accuses  himself  of 
heing.  But  for  this  self-accusation  there  was  real  ground  ; 
and  the  extreme  sensibility  of  Hamlet's  nature  could  not  but 
be  struck  by  the  reproof  which  such  an  admirably  acted  piece 
of  passion  would  convey  to  him;  his  feelings  were  touched, 
not  his  intellect;  to  them,  not  to  the  latter,  was  the  appeal 
made.  I  think  this  is  why  Shakespeare  selected  such  danger- 
ously bombastic  language  for  the  player's  speech ;  had  the 
poetry  been  more  refined,  the  sentiment  might  have  been  less ' 
forcible  ;  had  the  mind  been  more  attracted,  the  heart  might 
have  been  less  moved.  Hamlet  contrasts,  in  language,  which 
seems  to  have  caught  something  of  the  reckless  vehemence 
of  the  speech  to  which  he  had  been  listening,  his  own 
impassive  silence  with  the  furious  passion  which  he  supposes 
the  player  would  have  shown  if  in  his  place.  'He  is  whirled 
along  in  such  a  torrent  of  words,  while  denouncing  his  own 
cowardice,  that  when  he  turns  to  pour  forth  a  string  of 
abusive  epithets  against  his  uncle,  the  very  excess  of  his 
violence  works  its  own  cure :  finding  all  words  exhausted 
nd  his  rage  reduced  to  the  simple  cry — 

0,  vengeance  ! 

ie  immediately  sees  the  folly  and  the  uselessness  of  such 
nere  vocal  thunder,  and  calls  upon  his  intellect  once  more  to 
resume  the  sway  which  extravagance  of  feeling  had  over- 
turned— 

About,  my  brain  ! 

Then  suddenly,  but  clearly,  he  sees  the  practical  use  to  which 
the  force  of  mimic  passion  may  be  turned  ;  he  sees  a  chance 
of  testing  Iby  MtTtfaTlTreans  the  truth  of  that  supernatural 

,  ~  visitation  which  he  has  suffered?!  It  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that,  without  knowing  italic  snatches  at  another  chance  of  de- 
laying the  stern  action  from  which  his  nature  has^slmmk ;  for 
whileTie'  seemed,  most  plausibly  to  himself,  to  be  advancing 
in  the  task  of  vengeance  which  had  been  set  him,  he  was 

^  really  delaying  to  strike  that  blow  which  must,  in  the  natural 

course  of  things,  become  more  difficult  to  strike  every  day ; 
but  had  Hamlet  acted  with  the  decision  of  a  Malone,  or  the  ' 
relentless  common  sense  of  a  Steevens,  the  world  would  have 
lost  three  acts,  at  least,  of  this  most  glorious  play  ;  and  I  am 
afraid  that  the  approbation  of  these  terrible  judges,  however 
gratifying  to  the  "manes"  of  the  poet,  would  scarcely  have 
consoled  the  world  at  large  for  that  loss, 


A    STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  39 

The  temporary  distrust,  which  Hamlet  expresses  with 
regard  to  the  genuineness  of  the  apparition  that  he  has 
seen,  I  look  upon  as  of  little  importance,  except  as  a  symptom 
of  that  intermittent  scepticism  which  often  infects  dispositions 
similar  to  that  of  Hamlet.  The  personality  of  the  devil  was 
a  doctrine  more  generally  accepted  in  Shakespeare's  time  than 
it  is  now.  This  distrust  is  not  deep-seated  in  Hamlet's 
mind;  he  is  but  unconsciously  employing  arguments  with  - 
himself,  'apparently .suggested  by  prudence,  but,  in  reality, 
springing  from  the  inherent  weakness  of  his  character,  which 
'made  him  so  ready  to  i'eel  but  so  unready  to  act. 

Between  the  second  and  third  acts  would  seem  to  be  an 
interval  of  twenty-four  hours,  or  thereabouts.  The  very  first 
words  of  the  act,  which  are  spoken  by  the  King,  indicate  that 
the  terrors  of  remorse  are  closing  round  him;  he  no  longer 
speaks  of  Hamlet's  state  in  the  same  moderate  language  that 
he  used  before  :  he  inquires  of  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern 
the  result  of  their  mission  thus — 

And  can  you.,  by  no  drift  of  circumstance. 
Get  from  him  why  he  puts  on  this  confusion, 
Grating  so  harshly  all  his  days  of  quiet 
With  turbulent  and  dangerous  lunacy  ? 

He  then  learns  that  Hamlet  had  commanded  the  players  to 
play  that  night  before  him,  and  with  a  momentary  sense  of 
relief,  little  thinking  what  kind  of  a  play  he  was  going  to 
witness,  he  gives  a  ready  consent  to  be  present  at  the  enter- 
tainment. Then  follows  the  scene  to  which  I  have  already 
referred  in  my  last  lecture  ;  Ophelia  is  set  as  the  decoy  to 
inveigle  Hamlet's  secret  from  him. 

Having  treated  of  this  scene  most  amply,  it  is  only  neces- 
sary for  me  now  to  add  a  few  observations  on  this  grand 
soliloquy,  which  offers  a  complete  contrast  to  the  one  which  /   *  f 
closed  the  last  act ;  the  la^t^as^a^biirst  of  long  suppressed  (f%  \ 
passion  ;  this  is  deep  meditation.        ^- — 

To  be,  or  not  to  be  :   that  is  the  question  :  ^l*x.Ccr 

Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind  to  suffer 

The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune, 

Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles, 

And  by  opposing  end  them  ?     To  die  :  to  sleep  ; 

No  more  ;  and  by  a  sleep  to  say  we  end 

The  heart-ache,  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 

That  flesh  is  heir  to,  'tis  a  consummation 

Devoutly  to  be  wished.     To  die,  to  sleep  ; 

To  sleep  :  perchance  to  dream  :  ay,  there's  the  rub  ; 

For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come, 

When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil, 

Must  give  us  pause  :  there's  the  respect 


J 


40  A    .STUDY   OF    HAMLET. 

That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life  ; 

For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 

The  oppressor's  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumelyj 

The  pangs  of  despised  love,  the  law's  delay, 

The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns 

That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 

When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 

With  a  bare  bodkin  ?  who  would  fardels  bear, 

To  grunt  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life, 

But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death, 

The  undiscover'd  country  from  whose  bourn 

No  traveller  returns,  puzzles  the  will, 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have 

Than  ily  to  others  that  we  know  not  of  ? 

Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all, 

And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 

Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought, 

And  enterprises  of  great  pitch  and  moment 

With  this  regard  their  currents  turn  awry 

And  lose  the  name  of  action.* 

Brought,  as  it  would  seem,  to  the  brink  of  decisive  action, 
having  most  probably  resolved,  should  the  experiment  of  the 
play  confirm  be}rond  all  doubt  the  revelation  made  to  him  by 
the  Ghost,  that  he  would  kill  the  murderer  without  any  fur- 
ther delay,  the  fatal  weakness  of  Hamlet's  character  proves 
once  more  its  supremacy  over  him  by  tempting  him  to  that 
most  cowardly  escape  from  all  earthly  trials — suicide. 

Although  Shakespeare  has  not  hampered  himself  by  any 
over-delicate  dread  of  ^anachronisms,  it  would  have  been  too 
glaringly  out  of  place  to  have  represented  Hamlet  as 
restrained  from  suicide  by  any  deep  religious  feeling.  The 
uncertainty  which  the  narrowest-minded  infidel  must  feel  as 
to  the  existence  of  a  future  state  often  serves,  in  the  place  of 
a  nobler  motive,  to  restrain  him  from  the  crime  of  taking  his 
own  life.  Sensitive  natures  like  Homlet's  are  most  exposed 
to  this  horrid  temptation ;  but  those  very  natures  should  be 
most  open  to  the  highest  influences  of  religion,  without  which 
nothing,  but  what  I  may  call  an  intelligent  fear,  could  keep 
them,  in  many  cases,  from  putting  an  end  to  that  life  the 
troubles  and  sorrows  of  which  they  cannot  but  feel  more, 
keenly  than  others.  But  we  must  not  forget  that  in  the  case 
of  Hamlet  it  is  no  guilty  weakness  on  his  own  part,  no  con- 
temptible abandonment  to  passion,  no  degraded  indulgence 
of  his  appetites,  that  has  brought  him  to  feel  that  strange 
longing,  which  many  of  us  at  some  time  may  have  felt,  to 
"  slit  the  thin -spun  thread  of  life "  and  so  end  all  our 
troubles,  at  least  in  this  world.  It  is  in  his  case  an  over- 


See  Appendix  F. 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  41 

whelming  sense  of  the  fearful  tas,k  imposed  on  him,  of  the 
terribly  conflicting  affections  which  agitated  him,  of  the 
seeming  impossibility  of  revenging  his  father  without  cruelty 
';  jt  is^a  noble  despair  at  the  apparent  triumph 


-q£  p,vi1  nvflr  gnorl,  not  in  his  own  nature  but  in  the  world 
around  him  ;  a  despair  which  might  well  crush  the  strongest 
of.  us,  did  not  faith  in  a  God,  not  only  all-powerful,  and  all- 
wise,  but  all-loving,  sustain  us. 

The  result  of  the  interview  between  Hamlet  and  Ophelia 
on  the  King  is  remarkable  ;  his  dread  of  Hamlet,  which  had 
been  increasing  ever  since  the  night  of  the  ghost's  appear- 
ance, now  suggests  to  him  that  he  must  at  any  cost  rid 
himself  of  his  nephew's  presence. 

he  shall  with  speei  t»  England. 

The  first  hint  of  that  treacherous  design  which  afterwards,  as 
we  know,  he  attempted  to  carry  out  with  such  signal  failure. 
Polonius  pleads  for  one  more  experiment  :  — 

Poi.  Let  his  queen  mother  all  alone  entreat  him 

To  show  his  grief  :  let  her  be  round  with  him  ; 
And  I'll  be  placed,  so  please  you,  in  the  ear 
Of  all  their  conference.     If  she  find  him  not, 
To  England  send  him,  or  confine  him  where 
Your  wisdom  best  shall  think. 

KIXG.  It  shall  be  so  : 

Madness  in  great  ones  must  not  unwatch'd  go. 

One  of  the  most  distinctive  features  of  this  play  is  the 
infinite  variety  of  it  ;  the  way  in  which  the  sombreness  and 
pathos  of  tragedy  are  relieved  by  scenes  not  of  vulgar  farce 
or  forced  humour,  but  by  frequent  flashes  of  high  comedy,  or,' 
as  in  the  case  of  the  gravedigger  scene,  natural  humours  In- 
deed, it  may  be  said  of  all  Shakespeare's  great  tragedies,  with 
the  sole  exception  of  "  Macbeth  "  —  in  which  the  incidents  are 
so  many  and  the  interest  so  intense,  that  no  such  relief  is 
wanted  —  that  he  is  always  careful  not  to  be  monotonously 
gloomy,  but  to  be  true  to  nature,  even  in  this  point  as  in  all 
others  ;  for  in  life  we  rarely  find  but  that  the  greatest  calamity, 
or  the  heaviest  sorrow,  is  relieved  either  by  the  presence  of 
some  element  of  beauty,  or  by  a  gleam  of  brightness,  which 
extorts  our  admiration,  or  forces  from  us  a  smile,  even  at  the 
.  supremest  moment  of  fear  or  grief.  This  it  is  which  more 
than  anything  else  distinguishes  Shakespeare  from  all  his 
contemporaries  or  successors  in  tragic  poetry  :  the  oppressive 
gloom  which  crushes  us  in  Ford,  Marlowe,  or  Cyril  Tourneur  — 
to  mention  three  of  his  most  formidable  rivals  —  or  the  tearful 


42  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

tediousness  of  Otway,  Bowe,  and  their  many  imitators,  never 
affects  us  when  reading  the  tragedies  of  Shakespeare.  In 
accordance  with  this  principle,  before  we  approach  the  more 
tragic  incidents  of  this  play,  Shakespeare  affords  us  a  pleasant 
resting  place  in  the  short  scene  between  Hamlet  and  the 
players,  in  which  he  lays  down  in  most  admirable  precepts 
and  most  perfect  language  the  true  principles  of  acting. 
This  scene  bears  little  upon  the  character  of  Hamlet  except 
as  it  shows  the  universality  of  his  talents  and  the  liberality 
of  his  mind,  and  helps  to  establish  his  claim  to  be  called  in 
the  beautiful  language  of  Ophelia,  "  tjie  glass  of  fashionjind. 
the  mould  of  form." 

rolonius,  with  Itosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  now  enter 
to  announce  the  consent  of  the  King  to  be  present  at  the  play. 
Hamlet  despatches  them  itll  three  to  hasten  the  players,  in 
order  that  he  may  take  Horatio  into  his  confidence  more  tho- 
roughly, and  benefit  by  his  aid  in  the  experiment  upon  the 
King's  conscience  which  he  is  now  about  to  try.  In  this 
speech  to  Horatio  Shakespeare  has  almost  exceeded  himself ; 
a  more  beautiful  epitome  of  the  character  of  a  true  friend 
does  not  exist,  nor  a  better  guide  for  those  who  wish  to  find 
this  treasure  ;  we  have  in  this  speech  further  evidence  of  the 
singular  clearness  of  Hamlet's  judgment,  and  of  the  marvel- 
lous beauty  of  a  character,  the  strength  of  whose  intellect 
stands  out  in  bolder  relief  from  the  very  fact  that  in  action 
he  is  so  weak  and  undecided.  We  have  here  one  note  for  the 
actor  whicTTlie  should  heed  well  in  the  following  scene — 

For  I  mine  eyes  will  rivet  to  his  face. 

Were  the  force  of  this  line  more  heeded  by  the  representa- 
tives of  Hamlet  on  the  stage,  we  should  not  be  tormented  by 
those  exhibitions  of  feline  agility  with  which  they  seem  to 
think  it  incumbent  to  favour  us  in  the  celebrated  play  scene. 

King  and  Court  have  now  arrived.  It  must  be  acknow- 
ledged that  Claudius'  overtures  to  his  nephew  do  not  meet 
with  much  encouragement.  Hamlet  replies  to  the  courteous 
inquiry— 

KING.  How  fares  our  cousin  Hamlet  ? 

HAM.  Excellent,  i'  faith  •  of  the  chameleon's  dish  :  I  eat  the  air,  promise 
crammed  : 

By  which  words  he  means  to  refer  to  the  fact  that  his  uncle 
has  promised  that  he  should  succeed  to  the  throne  ;  a  very 
generous  promise,  which  restored  to  him  his  right  when  the 
usurper  could  no  longer  enjoy  it.  The  demeanour  and  Ian- 


A    STt'DY    ()F    HAMLKT.  43 

guage  of  Hamlet  to  Ophelia  in  this  scene  are  both  repulsive  : 
it  is  not  enough  to  blame  the  coarseness  of  the  times  for  such 
blemishes  in  the  works  of  one  who,  in  general,  was  pure- 
minded.  I  think  some  explanation  of  Hamlet's  revolting 
language  may  be  found,  if  we  presume  that  my  interpretation 
of  the  former  scene  (Act  III,  So.  1)  was  a  correct  one.  Hamlet 
has  ceased  to  respect  Ophelia  after  detecting  her  in  a  delibe- 
rate lie ;  he  may  exaggerate  the  disrespect  which  mortification 
induced  him  to  show  towards  her,  for  the  purpose  of  impressing 
the  King  and  Queen,  and  still  more  the  courtiers,  with  the  idea 
that  he  was  scarcely  responsible  for  his  actions ;  at  any  rate 
this  short  dialogue  serves  to  enhance  the  sweet  purity  and 
innocence  of  Ophelia's  character;  and  as  all  the  offensive 
portion  of  it  can  be  omitted  from  representation  without  any 
injury  to  the  interest  of  the  play,  we  need  not  dwell  any 
further  upon  it. 

The  course  of  the  play  represented  before  the  Court  is  in- 
terrupted by  a  few  short  and  striking  sentences  between 
Hamlet  and  the  King  and  Queen.  The  King  begins  to  sus- 
pect the  gist  of  the  play. 

Is  there  no  offence  in't  ? 

he  asks  of  Hamlet,  to  which  he^answers — 

No,  no,  they  do  but  jest,  poison  in  jest. 

By  a  great  effort  of  self-restraint  Hamlet  preserves  the  same 
quiet  tone  of  bitter  irony  throughout,  while  his  eyes  cannot 
be  diverted,  even  by  the  beautiful  face  of  Ophelia,  from  their 
fixed  watchfulness  of  the  King.  The  poisoner  in  the  play 
represented  is  the  nephew  of  the  king ;  this,  I  think,  is  no 
accident ;  by  making  the  relation  the  same  as  between  him- 
self and  Claudius,  Hamlet  adds  one  more  to  the  many  strokes 
of  irony  directed  against  his  uncle.  While  the  mimic 
poisoner  is  in  the  very  act  of  pouring  the  poison  into  the 
sleeping  king's  ear  on  the  stage,  Hamlet  half  rises  from  his 
recumbent  attitude  and  thus  explains  the  incident : 

He  poisons  him  i'  the  garden  for  his  estate.  His  name's  Gonzago  ;  the 
story  is  extant,  and  written  in  very  choice  Italian  :  you  shall  see  anon  how 
the  murderer  gets  the  love  of  Gonzago's  wife. 

At  this  point  most  of  the  actors,  that  I  have  seen  in  the 
part  of  Hamlet,  are  wont  to  execute  what  I  must  venture  to 
call  the  most  vulgar  piece  of  melodramatic  absurdity  which 
can  be  conceived.  They  crawl  on  their  hands  and  knees  from 
the  feet  of  Ophelia  to  the  King,  whilst  the  poisoner  is  speaking 
his  short  speech  on  the.  stage ;  they  then  scream,  or  rant,  in 


44  A  -STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

the  King's  ear  these  words,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  justify  any 
respectable  and  sane  member  of  the  Court  of  Denmark  in  con- 
ducting Hamlet  to  the  nearest  dungeon.  Tradition,  deriving 
itself  from  Edmund  Kean,  is  said  to  justify  this  astonishing- 
piece  of  business  (technically  so  called) ;  but  not  every  actor, 
much  less  every  man,  is  an  Edmund  Kean,  and  what  may 
have  appeared  natural  and  effective  in  him,  certainly  appears 
quite  the  contrary  in  his  imitators.  To  me  it  seems  an  error 
from  the  actor's  point  of  view,  for  surely  it  would  be'fmuch 
more  effective,  as  well  as  natural,  that  Hamlet  should  not 
abandon  himself  to  the  intensity  of  hi&  excitement  until  he 
is  alone  with  Horatio,  which  he  is  a  few  moments  afterwards, 
when  he  bursts  into  that  wild  song  of  triumph — 

Why,  let  the  stricken  deer  go  weep, 

The  hart  ungalled  play  ; 
For  some  must  watch,  while  some  must  sleep  : 

Thus  runs  the  world  away.  * 

Any  licence  may  be  allowed  to  the  actor  now ;  exulting  in 
the  success  of  his  scheme,  Hamlet  gives  way  to  an  excitement 
almost  hysterical.  His  satirical  humour  shows  itself  in  the 
midst  of  this  exultation,  in  fact  he  uses  it  here,  as  in  many 
other  instances,  partly  as  a  veil  to  conceal  the  depth  of  his 
feelings  ;  he  calls  for  music  because  the  tension  of  his  nerves 
is  becoming  too  great  to  bear ;  but  before  the  recorders,  or 
small  flutes,  can  be  brought,  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern 
re-enter,  and  Hamlet  speedily  regains  his  self-possession  in 
the  presence  of  the  two  courtiers,  whose  demeanour  is  so 
much  changed  as  to  verge  almost  on  insolence.  The  dignified 
sarcasm  which  Hamlet  displays  in  this  scene  shows  that,  when 
he  chose,  his  self-command  was  as  complete  as  that  of  the 
sanest  person  ;  although  he  tells  them  that  his  wit  is  diseased, 
Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  must  have  felt  that  the  rebuke 
the  prince  administers  to  their  disrespectful  familiarity  proves 
the  disease  had  not  affected  its  vigour.  Plausible  as  are  their 
professions  of  love,  Hamlet's  keen  insight  into  character,  a 
quality  which  we  often  find  coupled  with  the  eccentricity  of 
intellectual  natures,  at  once  divines  that  they  are  in  reality 
playing  him  false.  -The  entry  of  Polonius  gives  him  an  oppor- 
tunity of  indulging  in  mischievous  banter  of  the  unfortunate 
Lord  Chamberlain  ;  his  expression — 

They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent, 

shows  how  he  enjoys  the  joke.  Directly  he  is  alone,  he  is 
again  serious,  proving  that,  amidst  all  the  wild  humour  in 
which  he  indulges  his  overburdened  mind,  he  never  entirely 

*  See  Appendix  G. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  45 

forgets  that  great  purpose  which  he  has  in  view  ;  he  braces 
up  his  nerves  for  the  interview  with  his  mother,  and  once 
more  he  seems  on  the  point  of  that  decisive  action  which 
would  fulfil  the  solemn  duty  that  his  father's  spirit  has 
imposed  on  him. 

We  come  now  to  a  scene  rarely,  if  ever,  represented  on  the 
stage,  but  which  forms  a  foundation  for  the  most  plausible 
attacks  that  have  been  made  on  the  character  of  Hamlet. 
The  King  informs  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  that  they 
must  prepare  for  immediate  departure  to  England  in  company 
with  Hamlet — 

The  terms  of  our  estate  may  not  endure 
Hazard  so  near  us  as  doth  hourly  grow 
Out  of  his  lunacies. 

They  answer  in  a  most  becoming  spirit  of  obedience  :  to  them, 
who  ever  wore  the  crown  and  kingly  robes,  let  them  adorn 
what  villany  they  might,  wore  the  same  title  to  respect  and 
implicit  obedience  which  the  dignity  of  virtue  alone  should 
command.  When  the  King  is  by  himself,  he  gives  expression  to 
that  remorse  which  '\vas  secretly  preying  on  his  heart.  The  dis-     /• 
tinction  between  repentance  and  remorse  is  most  clearly  and   / 
beautifully  drawn —  j 

But  0,  what  form  of  prayer 

Can  serve  my  turn  ?     '  Forgive  me  my  foul  murder  ? ' 

That  cannot  be,  since  I  am  still  possess'd 

Of  those  effects  for  which  I  did  the  murder, 

My  crown,  mine  own  ambition,  and  my  queen. 

JSday  one  be  pardon'd  and  retain  the  offence  ? 
fin  the  corrupted  currents  of  this  world 
|  Offence's  gilded  hand  may  shove  by  justice, 
I  And  oft  'tis  .seen  the  wicked  prize  itself 
I  Buys  out  the  law  :  But  'tis  not  so  above  ; 

-There  is  no  shuffling,  there  the  action  lies 

In  his  true  nature,  and  we  ourselves  compell'd 

Even  to  the  teeth  and  forehead  of  our  faults, 

To  give  in  evidence.     What  then  ?  what  rests  ? 

Try  what  repentance  can  :  what  can  it  not  ? 

Yet  what  can  it  when  one  can  not  repent  ? 

O  wretched  state  !  0  bosom  black  as  death  ! 

O  limed  soul,  that  struggling  to  be  free 

Art  more  engaged  !     Help,  angels  !  make  assay  ! 

Bow,  stubborn  knees,  and,  heart  with  strings  of  steel, 

Be  soft  as  sinews  of  the  new-born  babe  ! 

All  may  be  well." 

While  he  is  kneeling  in  the  agony  of  prayer  which  is 
stifled  by  the  consciousness  of  rts  insincerity,  Hamlet  enters 
unseen  by  the  King ;  he  then  speaks  the  lines  which  certainly 
betray  a  spirit  of  diabolical  revenge.  No  doubt  commen- 
tators have  not  ransacked  contemporary  literature  of  that 
day  in  vain  for  instances  of  similar  ferocity  ;  the  desire  had 


40  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

been  expressed  by  more  than  one  vindictive  nature  to  kill  the 
soul  us  well  as  the  body.  I  need  not  point  out  to  you  how 
impotent  such  malice  is;  man  may  slay  his  fellow-man  unpre- 
pared, or  even,  as  in  some  instances  quoted,  with  a  blasphe- 
mous denial  of  God  on  his  lips,  extorted  from  him  through  fear 
of  death  ;  but  the  ultimate  fate  of  the  soul  is  in  the  hands  of 
God  alone.  The  very  extravagance  of  the  idea  may  have 
struck  Shakespeare,  and  he  may  have  purposely  put  these 
horrible  words  into  Hamlet's  mouth  to  show  the  excess  of 
vindictiveness  to  which  his  thoughts  would  go,  out  of  defi- 
ance, as  it  were,  of  the  timid  inertness  of  his  action.  Violence 
of  language  is  not  uncommonly  found  in  highly  sensitive 
natures  ;  but  very  rarely  in  such  natures,  except  in  the  moment 
of  extreme  passion,  is  it  supplemented  by  violent  deeds. 
Complete  as  his  conviction  of  the  King  s  guilt  now  must  be, 
in  face  of  the  opportunity,  in  sight  of  the  man  himself  tor- 
tured with  the  agonies  of  a  guilty  conscience,  Hamlet  shrinks 
from  striking  the  fatal  blow.  He  knows  himself,  that  deli- 
_  berate  murder — murder  committed,  not  in  the  heat  and  fury 

Qf  passion,  but  with  sufficientyleisure  to  allow  of  reflection, 
bough  justified,  ever  so  strongly,  by  what  we  may  call  the 
aturaL  laws  of  vengeance — is  an  act  of  which  he  is  inca- 
pable./The  ghost's  solemn  exhortation  to  revenge  may  be  ring- 
ing in  his  ears  ;  in  thought  he  is  more  than  capable,  in  deed 
he  is  incapable  of  executing  it ;  and  so  he  indulges  in  this  dis- 
cussion with  himself,  in  which,  affecting  a  bloody-mindedness 
that  he  could  not  really  feel,  he  excuses  himself  for  once 
more  putting  off  the  time  of  action.y  The  reason  which  he 
alleges  at  the  end  of  his  speech  probably  weighed  more 
strongly  with  him  than  he  was  inclined  to  allow ;  he  had  yet 
to  try  and  wake  his  mother's  conscience ;  that  was  a  task 
much  more  congenial  to  his  nature,  much  more  within  his 
capacity.  I  do  not  go  so  far  as  to  deny  that  this  speech  of 
Hamlet's  is  revolting  to  our  feelings ;  it  savours  of  an  age 
when  bloodshed  and  violence  were  unhappily  familiar  ;  it  is 
consistent  with  the  state  of  rude  and  imperfect  civilisation 
which  existed  in  the  time  of  which  this  play  treats  ;  it  must 
bo,  admitted  as  one  of  the  blemishes  inseparable  from  all 
human  work ;  but  I  do  venture  to  assert  that  Shakespeare 
did  not  intend  us  to  believe  that  these  horrid  sentiments 
were  entertained  with  any  seriousness  by  the  mind  of 
Hamlet.* 

We  come  now  to  the  scene  known  as  the  u  closet  scene," 
which  concludes  the  third  act,  and  is,  perhaps,  for  more  reasons 

*  See  Appendix  H. 


A   STUDY  OF   HAMLET.  47 

than  one,  the  most  important  in  the  play.  The  death  of 
Polonius  at  the  hands  of  Hamlet  leads  not  only  to  the  mad- 
ness and  suicide  of  Ophelia,  but  to  the  final  catastrophe  of 
the  tragedy.  There  are  three  questions  involved  in  this  scene 
which  have  occasioned  much  controversy — first,  the  conduct  of 
Hamlet  to  his  mother  ;  secondly,  the  amount  of  guilt  with 
which  he  is  chargeable  for"  the  accidental  murder  of  Polonius  ; 
and  thirdly,  how  far  the  Queen  was  accessory  to  the  murder 
of  her  first  husband.  On  all  the  questions.  I  hope,  by  careful 
examination  of  the  text  itself,  to  throw  some  light. 

We  must  imagine  the  Queen  in  her  closet,  or  oratory ;  be- 
hind the  arras  which  covers  the  walls  Polonius  is  concealed, 
ready  to  hear  how  Hamlet  answers  his  mother  when  she  takes 
him  roundly  to  task  for  his  conduct  towards  his  uncle-father. 
Polonius,  by  the  way,  had  probably  no  suspicion  X)f  foul  play 
in  the  case  of  the  elder  Hamlet's  death ;  while,  as  to  Ger- 
trude's speedy  marriage  with  her  brother-in-law,  the  political 
reasons  alleged  for  it  would  have  been  quite  sufficient  excuse, 
in  the  old  courtier's  eyes,  for  the  indecent  haste,  or  the  dis- 
regard of  consanguinity  manifested  in  such  a  marriage ;  even 
supposing  that,  in  his  eyes,  the  King  could  do  any  wrong. 
When,  therefore,  the  Lord  Chamberlain  counsels  the  Queen 
thus — 

Look  you  lay  home  to  him  : 

Tell  him  his  pranks  have  been  too  broad  to  bear  with, 
And  that  your  grace  hath  screen'd  and  stood  between 
Much  heat  and  him  — 

he  thinks  that  he  is  giving  very  excellent  and  highly  moral 
advice ;  nor  does  it  occur  to  him,  for  one  moment,  that  the 
eccentric  prince,  at  whose  pranks  he  is  so  scandalised,  may 
turn  the  tables  upon  his  august  mother.  In  fact,  we  may 
take  it  for  granted  that  the  conduct  of  Polonius  is  open  to 
no  graver  imputations  than  those  of  servility  and  meddlesome- 
ness, faults  for  which  he  is  too  severely  punished. 

The  time  is  night,  and  the  hour  very -near  that  in  which 
his  father's  ghost  first  appeared  to  Hamlet.  His  first  words 
are  those  of  assumed  indifference — 

HAM.  Now,  mother,  what's  the  matter  ? 

Qu.  Hamlet,  thou  hast  thy  father  much  offended. 

He  at  once  shows  her  that  he  has  not  come  to  be  rebuked, 
but  to  rebuke. 

HAM.  Mother,  you  have  my  father  much  offended. 
Qu.  Come,  come,  you  answer  with  an  idle  tongue. 


48  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

She  attempts  to  treat  him  as  if  he  were  still  a  boy.  His 
answer  quickly  undeceives  her  — 

HAM.  Go,  go,  you  question  with  a  wicked  tongue. 

She  is  astonished  at  the  audacity  of  his  manner  — 

Qu.     Why,  how  now,  Hamlet  ! 

HAM.  What's  the  matter  now  ? 

Qu.     Have  you  forgot  me  ? 

HAM.  No,  by  the  rood,  not  so  : 

You  are  the  queen,  your  husband's  brother's  wife  ; 

And  —  would  it  were  not  so  !  —  you  are  my  mother. 

Even  the  pathetic  tone  of  reproach  in  which  he  utters  this 
word  finds  no  echo  in  her  dulled  conscience;  she  answers  with 
affected  indignation  and  attempted  menace  — 

Qu.  Nay,  then,  "I'll  set  those  to  you  that  can  speak. 

Hamlet  does  not  seem  to  suspect  that  any  spy  is  in  conceal- 
ment ;  he  stops  his  mother  as  she  is  going  towards  the  King's 
apartments,  and  gently  forcing  her  into  the  chair,  speaks  to 
her  with  a  dignity  which  the  consciousness  of  his  solemn 
mission  gives  him  — 

HAM.  Come,  come,  and  sit  you  down  ;  you  shall  not  budge  ; 
You  go  not  till  I  set  you  up  a  glass 
Where  you  may  see  the  inmost  part  of  you. 

She  mistakes  the  solemn  earnestness  of  his  manner  for  the 
dreadful  purpose  of  insanity  — 

Qu.  What  wilt  thou  do  ?  thou  wilt  not  murder  me  ? 
Help,  help,  ho  ! 

Polonius  echoes  the  call  for  help  from  behind  the  arras  ; 
Hamlet  springs  almost  ferociously  to  the  spot  whence  he  has 
the  voice,  with  the  cry  — 


How  now  !  a  rat  ?    Dead,  for  a  ducat,  dead  ! 

• 

as  he  plunges  the  sword  through  the  arras.  So  excited  is  he 
that  he  fails  to  recognise  the  voice  of  Polonius,  and  when  his* 

t      mother  exclaims  —  • 
0  me,  what  hast  thou  done  ? 
he  answers  — 
Nay,  I  know  not  :  is  it  the  king  ? 

The  intense  eagerness  with  which  he  utters  this  question  is 
the  key  to  the  apparent  strangeness  of  his  conduct.  We  have 
seen  him,  but  a  short  while  ago,  gazing  on  the  figure  of  the 
King  as  he  knelt  in  the  agony  of  barren  prayer  ;  we  have 
seen  him  in  the  presence  of  an  opportunity,  which  might 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  49 

never  occur  again,  of  revenging  his  father's  death  by  slaying 
'his  murderer  without  the  chance  of  interruption  ;  we  have 
seen  him  then  stop  to  argue  with  himself,  and  to  elaborate  the 
most  bloodthirsty  cruelly  in  his  mind,  while  his  sword  lay 
harmless  in  his  motionless  hand  ;  but  now,  when  the  object  of 
his  hate  is  concealed  from  his  sight,  he  strikes  blindly,  upon 
the  impulse  of  the  moment ;  and  the  very  idea  that  he  has 
thus,  in  spite  of  his  own  weakness,  in  spite  of  his  fatal  inert- 
ness, accomplished  the  deed  he  had  so  long  contemplated,  and 
fulfilled  the  solemn  charge,  for  his  faithlessness  to  which  lie 
had  so  bitterly  reproached  himself,  fills  him  with  a  joy  which, 
even  in  the  presence  of  her  whose  husband  he  thinks  lie  has 
slain,  he  cannot  conceal. 

The  Queen  exclaims  with  genuine  horror — 

0,  what  a  rash  and  bloody  deed  is  this  ! 

To  which  Hamlet,  who  has  gone  up  towards  the  arras,  turning 
round,  answers  somewhat  sharply, 

A  bloody  deed  1  almost  as  bad,  good  mother, 
As  kill  a  king,  and  marry  with  his  brother. 

This,  as  more  than  one  commentator  has  observed,  is  most 
probably  a  tentative  reproach  uttered  by  Hamlet  as  an  expe- 
riment on  his  mother's  conscience  ;  the  Queen's  answer — 

As  kill  a  king  ! 

must,  I  think,  be  held  to  be  entirely  free  from  any  taint  of 
hypocrisy,  and  should  be  uttered  with  simple  earnestness. 
Hamlet  now  lifts  up  the  arras  and  discovers  Polonius.  He  is 
too  much  engrossed  by  the  great  work  which  he  has  in  hand — 
the  awakening  of  his  mother's  conscience  to  a  full  sense  of 
her  guilt — all  the  powers  of  his  mind  are  too  intent  upon  this 
purpose  to  allow  of  his  expressing  his  sorrow  at  the  fatal 
mistake  which  he  has  made.  And  I  must  here  remind  you 
of  what  I  have  said  before,  that  Hamlet's  whole  nature  is  so 
absorbed  by  the  indignation  which  he  feels  at  his  father's 
murder,  that  he  regards  all  persons  who  in  any  way  counte- 
nance the  murderer,  king  though  he  be,  and  ignorant  as  they 
may  be  of  his  guilt,  as  participators  in  his  crime. 

He  now  comes  back  to  the  Queen,  who  stands  wringing  her 
hands  in  helpless  agitation — 

Leave  wringing  of  your  hands  :  peace  !  sit  you  down, 

And  let  me  wring  your  heart  :  for  so  1  shall, 

If  it  be  made  of  penetrable  stuff  ; 

If  damned  custom  have  not  brass'd  it  so, 

That  it  be  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense, 


50  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

The  answer  of  the  Queen — 

What  have  I  done,  that  thou  darest  wag  thy  tongue 
In  noise  so  rude  against  me  ? 

affords  still  further  proof  that  she  had  no  guilty  consciousness 
of  complicity  in  the  murder  of  her  husband  ;  but  the  amazing 
insensibility  which  she  displays  with  regard  to  her  scarcely 
less  serious  crime,  infidelity  to  that  husband,  both  during  his 
lifetime  and  after  his  death,  fully  justifies  the  language  in 
which  Hamlet  addresses  her — 

Such  an  act 

That  blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  modesty, 
Calls  Virtue  hypocrite,  takes  off  the  rose 
From  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love, 
And  sets  a  blister  there  ;  makes  marriage  vows 
As  false  as  dicers'  oaths. 

Still  the  blindness  of  her  misplaced  passion,  or  the  obstinacy 
of  her  woman's  vanity,  stifles  the  voice  of  shame.  It  is  only 
after  Hamlet  has  drawn  in  most  earnest  and  poetic  words  the 
contrast  between  her  dead  husband  and  her  living  one  ;*  it 
is  only  when  he  has  relentlessly  laid  bare  the  extremity  of 
her  degradation,  that  she  cries  out  in  the  agony  of  a  tardily 
awakened  conscience — 

0  Hamlet,  speak  no  more  : 
Thou  turn'st  mine  eyes  into  my  very  soul, 
And  there  I  see  such  black  and  grained  spots  v 

As  will  not  leave  their  tinct. 

His  indignation  has  mastered  him,  and  he  cannot  stop ;  he 
justly  insists  upon  her  having  aggravated  her  guilt  by  con- 
tinuance in  it.  In  her  renewed  cry  for  mercy  she  repeats 
almost  the  same  expression  that  Hamlet  had  used  before, 
when  preparing  himself  for  this  interview^ — 

These  words  like  daggers  enter  in  my  ears  ; 
No  more,  sweet  Hamlet  ! 

But  the  picture  he  has  conjured  up  of  the  successful  mur- 
derer and  adulterer  lashes  him  into  a  fury  of  invective,  in  the 
very  midst  of  which  he  is  interrupted  by  the  entry  of  the 
Ghost,  clad  now,  not  in  complete  aimour,  but  in  the  ordinary 
dress  of  every  day,  or  rather,  as  the  stage  direction  has  it  in 
the  first  Quarto  (1603),  "  in  his  night  gownc"  as  if  he  were 
going  to  the  bed  that  his  wife  had  so  cruelly  dishonoured. 

The  appearance  of  the  Ghost  in  this  scene  is  essentially  dif- 
ferent, in  every  point,  both  to  its  first  appearance  in  the  pre- 

*  See  Appendix  K. 

f  I  will  speak  daggers  to  her,  but  use  none. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  51 

sence  of  Marcellus,  Horatio,  and  Bernardo,  and  to  its  second 
in  the  presence  of  Hamlet,  Horatio,  and  Marcellus.  On  both 
these  occasions  the  apparition  was  visible  to  every  one  pre- 
sent, though  it  refused  to  speak  until  alone  with  Hamlet. 
Now  the  ghost  is  seen  and  heard  by  Hamlet  alone.  To  the 
Queen  both  the  form  of  the  spectre,  and  the  words  it  speaks,  are 
but  as  empty  air.  In  the  former  scene,  as  in  this,  Hamlet,  on 
first  seeing  the  apparition,  calls  on  the  angels  fur  protection  ; 
but  whereas  before  the  words  of  his  prayer  were 

Angela  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us  ! 

they  are  now 

Save  me,  and  hover  o'er  me  with  your  wings, 
You  heavenly  guards  ! 

The  use  of  the  singular  number  may  be  accidental ;  on  the 
other  hand  it  may  show  that  he  was  sensible  that  this  visita- 
tion of  his  father's  spirit  was  directed  to  him  alone.  Hamlet 
asks,  . 

What  would  your  gracious  figure  ? 

but  he  does  not  wait  for  the  answer ;  he  is  too  conscious  of 
his  weakness  and  procrastination ;  he  does  not  -heed  the 
Queen's  exclamation, 

Alas,  he's  mad  ! 

but  he  continues  at  once — 

Do  you  not  come  your  tardy  son  to  chide, 
That,  lapsed  in  time  and  passion,  lets  go  by 
The  important  acting  of  your  dread  command  ? 
0,  say  ! 

The  ghost  has  only  one  speech,  the  first  part  of  which  is  a 
solemn  but  gentle  rebuke  : — 

Do  not  forget :  this  visitation 
Is  but  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted  purpose. 

There  is  no  special  command  to  kill  the  King  ;  the  anxiety 
of  the  noble  spirit  is  directed  towards  another  end  : — 

But  look,  amazement  on  thy  mother  sits  : 
0,  step  between  her  and  her  fighting  soul : 
Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  strongest  works  : 
Speak  to  her,  Hamlet. 

We  must  take  "  conceit "  here  to  mean  "  imagination," 
though  this  interpretation  does  not  make  the  gist  of  the  pas- 
sage very  clear  to  me ;  the  line — 

0,  step  between  her  and  her  fighting  soul  : 

would  certainly  seem  to  support  the  meaning  which  I  would 


52  A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

attribute  to  this  portion  of  the  speech — namely,  that  the 
anxiety  of  the  ghost  is  mainly  directed  towards  the  thorough 
awakening  of  the  Queen's  conscience,  so  as  to  bring  her  to 
repentance ;  but  it  would  be  more  consistent  with  this  inter- 
pretation 'if  the  word  "  conceit "  expressed  "  caprice,"  or 
"  vanity,"  more  than  "  imagination."  It  may  be  that  Shake- 
speare intended  to  represent  the  spirit  of  the  elder  Hamlet  as 
retaining  so  much  of  the  tenderness  of  his  nature,  that  it  could 
not  bear  to  witness  the  terrible  alarm,  into  which  Gertrude 
was  thrown  by  the  sight  of  Hamlet  holding  discourse  with 
what  seemed  to  be  "  the  incorporal  air  ;"  and  that  therefore 
the  ghost  earnestly  bids  Hamlet  speak  to  her,  in  order  to  con- 
vince her  that  this  conduct,  which  seems  so  inexplicable  to 
her,  is  not  the  result  of  madness.  Perhaps  both  explanations 
are  equally  true ;  and  the  intention  of  this  speech  mny  em- 
brace both  these  objects.  Certain  it  is  that  the  immediate 
result  of  this  second  visitation  on  Hamlet  is  to  make  him 
much  more  gentle  in  appealing  to  his  mother's  feelings,  and 
more  earnest  and  definite  in  his  repudiation  of  insanity.  ' 

The  Queen's  next  speech  shows  us  that  the  actor  at  this 
point  needs  all  his  skill  to  express  the  agitation  which  she 
describes — 

Forth  at  your  eyes  your  spirits  wildly  peep  ; 
And,  as  the  sleeping  soldiers  in  the  .alarm, 
Your  bedded  hairs,  like  life  in  excrements, 
Start  up  and  stand  an  end.     0  gentle  son, 
Upon  the  heat  and  flame  of  thy  distemper 
Sprinkle  cool  patience. 

Hamlet's  appeal  to  the  ghost  is  most  pathetic — 

Do  not  look  upon  me, 
Lest  with  this  piteous  action  you  convert 
My  stern  effects  :  then  what  I  have  to  do 
Will  want  true  colour  ;  tears  perchance  for  blood. 

These  words  point  to  the  fact  that  he  had  already  developed 
in  his  mind  a  distinct  counterplot  to  that  treacherous  device 
of  the  King,  the  sending  him  away  to  England,  as  we  shall 
see  towards  the  end  of  this  scene. 

Brief  as  is  the  space  for  which  the  ghost  appears,  the  effect 
produced  by  his  appearance  is  no  less  solemn  than  in  the 
first  act ;  and  the  opportunities  afforded  the  actor  are  greater 
than  on  that  occasion.  Hamlet  follows  with  his  eyes  the 
supernatural  figure,  and  when  it  has  passed  through  the 
door,  breaks  away  from  his  mother's  hold,  and  throws  him- 
self on  his  knees  at  the  spot  where  the  spirit  disappears, 
as  if  he  would  try  to  catch  at  its  robe  and  detain  it.  Still 


A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET.    ,  53 

Gertrude  does  not  believe  any  the  more  in  the  reality  of  the 
apparition — 

Qu.  This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain  : 
This  bodiless  creation  ecstasy 
Is  very  cunning  in. 

The  word  "  ecstasy  "  (which  means  alienation  of  the  mind) 
recalls  Hamlet  to  himself;  he  at  once  undeceives  her — 

1 1  is  not  madness 

That  I  have  utter'd  :  .  .  . 

.    '        .  .       Mother,  for  love  of  grace, 

Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul, 
That  not  your  trespass  but  ray  madness  speaks  : 
»       It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place, 
Whiles  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within, 
Infects  unseen.     Confess  yourself  to  heaven  ; 
Repent  what's  past,  avoid  what  is  to  come, 
And  do  not  spread  the  compost  on  the  weeds, 
To  make  them  ranker. 

She  cannot  resist  the  earnest  eloquence  of  this  appeal— 

0  Hamlet,  thou  hast  cleft  my  heart  in  twain. 
HAM.  0,  throw  away  the  worser  part  of  it, 

And  live  the  purer  with  the  other  half. 

,  Never  was  a  nobler  sermon  preached  than  is  embodied  in 
these  speeches  ;  they  are  instinct  with  the  truest  and  purest 
i  morality  that  knows  of  no  compromise  with  evil :  the  repen- 
tance to  which  Hamlet  urges  his  mother  is  not  that  weak 
substitute  for  repentance  which  the  frailty  of  our  nature  is 
too  ready  to  adopt :  tears,  and  sighs,  and  groans,  expressions 
of  sorrow,  however  deeply  felt,  are  110  atonement  for  sin  ;  the 
penitence  which  Hamlet  preaches  is  that  summed  up  in  those 
sacred  words,  "  Go  and  sin  no  more." 

Once  more,  good  night  : 
And  when  you  are  desirous  to  be  blest, 
I'll  blessing  beg  of  you. 

And  after  a  solemn  expression  of  sorrow  for  the  violent  death 
•of  Polonius — 

So  again,  good  night. 
I  must  be  cruel,  only  to  be  kind  : 
Thus  bad  begins,  and  worse  remains  behind. 

In  the  representation  of  the  play  this  scene  is  very  wisely 
concluded  here  ;  what  follows  is  an  anti-climax  of  the  worst 
description,  so  far  as  the  stage  is  concerned,  though  contain- 
ing most  interesting  matter  for  the  student. 

As  regards  the  first  of  the  three  questions  involved  in  this 
scene,  that  of  Hamlet's  conduct  to  his  mother,  however 
lacking  in  respect  it  may  be,  we  inust  remember  both  the 


54  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

revolting  nature  of  her  crime  and  the  utter  want  of  con- 
trition which,  hitherto,  she  had  displayed.  Hamlet  had, 
until  now,  refrained  from  reproaching  her ;  though  he  was 
certainly  justified  in  doing  so,  both  in  respect  of  the  ordinary 
duty  of  a  son  to  a  father — a  duty  which  renders  any  outrage 
the  father's  honour  equally  an  outrage  on  that  of  the  son 
— and  in  respect  of  the  solemn  charge  imposed  upon  him  by 
the  supernatural  visitation  which  he  had  received.  It  is 
probable,  although  he  does  not  mention  such  intention,  that 
Hamlet  contemplated  producing  a  strong  effect  upon  his 
mother's  feelings  in  the  play-scene ;  and  when  he  found  that 
she  had  sent  for  him  only  to  rebuke  him  for  his  conduct  to 
his  uncle,  his  indignation  would  very  naturally  be  roused  to 
such  an  extent  as  to  overpower  his  courtesy.  It  is  evident, 
both  from  the  manner  and  the  matter  of  his  speech,  that  he 
considers  himself,  in  thus  vividly  representing  to  Gertrude  the 
nature  of  her  guilt,  to  be  fulfilling  a  mission  with  which  he 
had  been  charged,  indirectly,  by  the  Deity.  He  has  pre- 
viously, in  the  scene  with  Ophelia,  assumed  the  same  lofty 
position,  in  those  words— 

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. 

This  is  the  language  of  one  who  believes  himself  charged 
with  a  power  and  authority  greater  than  those  of  an  ordi- 
nary mortal.  But  we  have  a  stronger  proof  of  this  in  the 
words  which  he  uses  in  expressing  his  repentance  for  the 
death  of  Polonius— 

.    For  this  same  lord  (pointiwj  to  Polonius) 
I  do  repent :  but  heaven  hath  pleased  it  so, 
To  punish  me  with  this,  and  this  with  me, 
That  I  must  be  their  scourge  and  minister. 

It  accords  with  the  earnest  character  of  Hamlet,  no  less 
than  with  the  nature  of  such  a  sacred  mission  as  lie  claims, 
to  show  no  scruple  or  delicacy  in  laying  bare  the  hideousness 
of  the  double  crime  committed  against  his  father,  to  one  part 
of  which  his  mother  was  more  than  accessory.  The  utter 
,  'indifference  to  all  sense  of  right  and  wrong  exhibited  by  those 
who  surrounded  Claudius  and  his  Queen ;  the  despicable 
servility  with  which  they  acquiesced  in  his  reaping  the  fruits 
of  his  brother's  sudden  death — granting  they  did  not  suspect 
him  of  having  caused  it — and  in  her  shameless  disregard  of 
what,  even  in  that  time  of  imperfect  civilisation,  may  be  called 
the  ordinary  decencies  of  conduct,  must  have  exasperated  so 
loving  and  loyal  a  son  as  Hamlet,  even  had  he  been  of  a  dis- 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  55 

position  less  sensitive.  When  we  consider,  then,  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  and  the  character  of  Hamlet,  we  cannot 
call  his  conduct  unnatural,  because,  in  his  endeavours  to  wake 
his  mother's  torpid  conscience  to  a  sense  of  her  guilt,  he  uses 
language  at  once  so  plain  and  so  vehement  that  it  left  no 
room  for  prevarication,  or  affected  misunderstanding.  There 
is  nothing  selfish,  or  paltry,  in  Hamlet's  indignation ;  he 
barely  alludes  to  the  usurpation  of  which  he  has  been  the 
victim ;  it  is  the  outrage  on  his  father's  love  and  honour  that 
he  resents  so  fiercely,  the  shameless  impenitence  of  his  mother 
he  rebukes  so  sternly. 

With  regard  to  the  second  question,  the  amount  of  guilt 
incurred  by  Hamlet  through  killing  Poionius  in  mistake  for 
the  King,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  mistake  was  a 
genuine  one  ;  the  rash  haste,  displayed  by  Hamlet,  was  the 
result  of  that  feverish  desire  for  vengeance  which  was  inten- 
sified by  the  consciousness  of  his  inability  to  execute  such 
vengeance  deliberately ;  therefore,  as  I  have  before  implied, 
he  snatches  at  the  opportunity,  which  seems  to  offer  itself,  of 
killing  Claudius  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  and,  as  it 
were,  in  the  dark.  Nor  is  the  fate  of  Poionius  so  undeserved 
as  at  first  sight  it  appears  ;  we  well  might  wonder — did  not 
the  history  of  every  age  and  every  nation  multiply  instance 
upon  instance  of  such  selfish  cowardice — we  well  might 
pronounce  incredible  and  impossible  the  utter  indifference 
shown  by  Poionius  and  the  whole  court  to  the  crimes  of 
Claudius.  We  must  remember  .that  his  usurpation  was 
successful ;  having  stolen  the  crown,  he  contrived  to  keep 
it,  and  so  long  as  he  kept  it,  and  110  longer,  would  his 
incestuous  marriage,  his  treachery  to  his  brother,  his  in- 
justice to  his  nephew,  be  alike  endorsed  and  encouraged 
by  those  who  could  profit  by  his  favour,  or  suffer  from  his 
anger.  Fidelity  to  our  allegiance  is  only  a  virtue  as  long  as 
he  who  claims  such  allegiance  is  glorified  by  the  sun  of  pros- 
perity ;  let  rebellion  grow  to  revolution  and  be  crowned  by 
success,  and  the  ruler,  before  whom  all  bowed  the  knee  with 
ready  subservience,  becomes  the  object  of  our  derision,  if  not 
of  our  violence ;  then  the  adherence  to  him,  or  to  his  de- 
scendants, which  once  was  loyalty,  deserving  of  the  highest 
rewards  that  the  State  could  bestow,  becomes  the  plotting,  or 
the  treason  which,  in  the  eyes  of  the  successful  rebels  now 
exalted  into  high-minded  patriots,  merit?  only  the  prison  or 
the  halter. 

Thirdly,  as  to  the  question  of  Gertrude's  connivance  at,  or 
complicity  in,  the  murder  of  her  first  husband,  I  think  we  may 


56  A    STUDY   OF    HAMLET. 

.  safely  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  can  be  charged  with 
neither.  Certainly  her  language  in  this  scene,  unless  we 
suppose  her  to  be  guilty  of  almost  superhuman  hypocrisy, 
tends  most  decidedly  to  acquit  her  of  such  a  charge  ;  but  we 
have  more  direct  evidence  on  this  point  in  the  14th  scene 
of  the  Quarto  (1603*),  no  vestige  of  which  is  found  in  the 
later  editions ;  the  Queen,  speaking  of  the  King  to  Horatio, 
says, 

Then  I  perceiue  there's  treason  in  his  lookes 
That  seem'd  to  sugar  o're  his  villanie  : 
But  I  will  soothe  and  please  him  for  a  time, 
For  murderous  mindes  are  always  jealous, 

and  still  more  strongly  in  this  very  scene  in  the  same  edition, 
when  the  Queen  speaks  thus,  after  the  disappearance  of  the 
ghost, 

But  as  I  haue  a  soule,  I  sweare  by  heauen, 
I  neuer  knew  of  this  most  horride  murder  : 

A  little  further,  in  answer  to  Hamlet's  appeal, 

And  mother,  but  assist  mee  in  reuenge, 
And  in  his  death  your  infamy  shall  die, 

The  Queen  answers — 

Hamlet,  I  vow  by  that  maiesty, 

That  knowes  our  thoughts,  and  lookes  into  our  hearts, 

I  will  conceale,  consent,  and  doe  my  best, 

What  stratagem  soe're  thou  shalt  deuise.t 

From  these  passages,  supported  as  they  are  by  the  prose  his- 
tory of  Hamlet  on  which  the  play  was  founded,  and  never 
contradicted  by  any  passage  in  the  play  as  afterwards  revised 
by  Shakespeare  himself,  no  less  than  from  the  character  of  the 
Queen  as  it  is  developed  in  the  following  scenes,  we  may  con- 
fidently acquit  her  alike  of  guilty  knowledge  or  of  wilful 
ignorance  of  the  vile  crime  committed  by  Claudius  against 
his  brother's  life,  though  in  that  against  his  honour  she  was 
the  weak  and  shameless  accomplice. 

The  latter  portion  of  this  scene,  which  is  never  represented 
on  the  stage,  is  very  much  expanded  from  its  original  form  in 
the  Quarto  of  1603  ;  I  give  in  the  Appendix,}  side  by  side, 
the  two  versions  of  this  scene  from  the  point  of  the  ghost's 

*  The  play  in  this,  its  earliest  and  imperfect  form,  is  not  divided  into 
acts. 

t  In  the  play  as  it  now  stands,  the  Queen  pledges  herself  not  to  reveal 
to  the  King  that  Hamlet's  madness  is  feigned,  in  the  following  words— 
QUEEN.  Be  thou  assured,  if  words  be  made  of  breath 
And  breath  of  life,  I  have  no  life  to  breathe 
What  thou  hast  said  to  me. 
|  See  Appendix  L. 


A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  57 

entrance,  in  order  that  comparison  between  them  may  be 
easier.  The  passage  relating  to  the  body  of  Polonius — 

This  man  shall  set  me  packing  : 
I'll  lug  the  guts  into  the  neighbour  room. 
Mother,  good  night.     Indeed  this  counsellor 
Is  now  most  still,  most  secret  and  most  grave, 
Who  was  in  life  a  foolish  prating  knave. 
Come,  sir,  to  draw  toward  an  end  with  you — 

has  been  much  censured  for  its  coarseness,  and  even  for  the 
affected  brutality  with  which  Hamlet  speaks  of  the  corpse  of 
hirn  for  whose  death  he  has,  a  short  time  before,  expressed 
what  seemed  to  be  genuine  contrition.  I  confess  I  do  not  under- 
stand why  Shakespeare  thought  it  necessary  to  add  anything 
here  to  what  he  had  originally  written  ;  but  we  must  remem- 
ber, as  has  been  pointed  out  by  the  commentators,  that  the 
word  "  guts  "  was  not  in  Shakespeare's  time  the  abominable 
vulgarism  that  it  is  now ;  and  that  the  rude  stage  appoint- 
ments, and  limited  numbers  of  the  company,  necessitated  the 
removal  of  the  body  by  one  of  the  characters  on  the  stage. 
Numerous  instances  of  this  will  be  found  in  the  Notes  to 
Staunton's  edition  of  Shakespeare. 

There  are  two  points  of  much  greater  importance  which 
must  be  noticed  :  the  first  is  the  promise  given  by  the  Queen, 
which  I  have  already  quoted,  that  she  would  not  betray 
Hamlet's  secret  to  the  King,  a  promise  which  she  moat  faith- 
fully kept.  The  second  point  is  the  remarkable  language  in 
which  Hamlet  speaks  of  his  coming  journey  to  England. 

HAM.  I  must  to  England  ;  you  know  that  ? 

Qu.  Alack, 

I  had  forgot  :  'tis  so  concluded  on. 

HAM.  There's  letters  seal'd  :  and  my  two  schoolfellows, 
Whom  I  will  trust  as  I  will  adders  fang'd, 
They  bear  the  mandate  ;  they  must  sweep  my  way, 
And  marshal  me  to  knavery.     Let  it  work  ; 
For  'tis  the  sport  to  have  the  enginer 
Hoist  with  his  own  petar  :  and't  shall  go  hard 
But  I  will  delve  one  yard  below  their  mines, 
And  blow  them  at  the  moon  : 

/It  would  certainly  seem  that  Hamlet,  suspecting  that  this 
mission  to  England  concealed  some  treachery  on  the  part  of 
the  King,  had  already  determined  to  defeat  that  treachery  by 
cunning  and  to  visit  upon  the  heads  of  Eosencrantz  and 
Guildenstern  their  complicity,  conscious  or  unconscious,  in 
the  scheme.  The  words,  "  They  bear  the  mandate,"  would 
seem  to  anticipate  the  discovery  which  Hamlet  afterwards 
made  regarding  the  nature  of  the  commission  with  which  they 
were  charged ;  whether  we  are  to  take  this  as  an  oversight  on 

E 


58  A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

Shakespeare's  part,  or  whether  we  should  understand  Hamlet 
to  be  speaking  of  suspicion  as  if  it  were  certainty,  I  cannot 
myself  determine ;  nor  do  I  find  the  slightest  notice  of  this 
passage  in  any  of  the  numerous  commentaries  which  I  have 
examined.*  The  next  words — 

they  must  sweep  my  way, 
And  marshal  me  to  knavery, 

are  difficult  to  interpret.  They  may  mean  that  Hamlet  was 
so  certain  that  his  suspicion  of  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern 
was  well-founded,  that  he  determined  to  be  revenged  upon 
them ;  and,  by  this  act  of  severity,  to  strengthen  his  mind  for 
the  more  impoitant  purpose  he  had  in  hand,  namely  the  kill- 
ing of  the  King.  If  he  could  conquer  his  weakness,  and  subdue 
his  scruples  of  conscience  sufficiently  to  work  upon  these  two 
false-hearted  courtiers  a  most  signal  act  of  vengeance  ;  and ' 
granting  that  he  should,  before  doing  so,  be  able  to  assure 
himself  that  Claudius,  in  sending  him  to  England,  \\as  send- 
ing him  to  a  treacherous  death  ;  he  might  naturally  hope, 
should  he  succeed  in  returning  \  safe  to  Denmark,  to  find 
himself  no  longer  hesitating  forj  one  moment  to  fulfil,  to 
the  uttermost  point,  the  ghost's  cMarge  of  vengeance. 

The  whole  effect  of  this  scene,  apart  from  its  intrinsic 
beauty  of  language  and  grandeur  of  conception,  is  to  raise 
our  interest  to  a  much  higher  point ;  and  I  cannot  agree  with 
those  who  consider  that  at  this  point  the  play  ought  to  have 
ended  ;  however  elaborate  may  be  the  episodes,  which  some- 
what check  the  progress  of  the  main  action  in  the  two  last 
acts,  our  curiosity,  as  to  what  is  to  follow,  is  so  skilfully 
whetted  in  this  scene,  that  a  more  abrupt  conclusion'  to  the 
play  would  be  as  ineffective  as  it  would  be  inartistic. 

*  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  5, 


PART    III. 


THE  fourth  act  opens  with  a  short  but  significant  scene  : 
the  persons  present  are  the  King,  the  Queen,  Eosencrantz, 
and  Guidenstern.  The  Queen  has  evidently  just  returned 
from  her  interview  with  Hamlet.  In  fact,  the  action  at  this 
point  of  the  play  is  continuous.  The  King  speaks  first : — 

KING.     There's  matter  in  these  sighs,  these  profound  heaves  : 
You  must  translate  :  'tis  fit  we  understand  them. 
Where  is  your  son  ? 

QUEEN.  Bestow  this  place  on  us  a  little  while. 

[Exeunt  ROSENCRANTZ  and  GUILDENSTERN. 

What  the  Queen  has  to  reveal  is  for  the  King's  ears  alone ; 
not  even  the  supple  fidelity  of  the  two  courtiers  entitles  them 
to  the  privilege  of  being  admitted  into  the  royal  confidence. 
When  they  are  gone  the  Queen  continues  :— - 

Ah,  mine  own  lord,  what  have  I  seen  to-night ! 
KING.      What,  Gertrude  ?    How  does  Hamlet  ? 
QUEEN,  Mad  as  the  sea  and  wind,  when  both  contend 

Which  is  the  mightier  :  in  his  lawless  fit, 

Behind  the  arras  hearing  something  stir, 

Whips  out  his  rapier,  cries  "  a  rat,  a  rat  1" 

And  in  this  brainish  apprehension  kills 

The  unseen  good  old  man. 

This  speech  is  certainly,  at  first  sight,  a  most  puzzling  one ; 
we  have  just  heard  Gertrude  give  her  son  the  most  solemn 
assurance  that  she  will  not  reveal  to  his  uncle  the  fact  that 
his  madness  is  assumed  ;  therefore  we  must  understand  that 
she  is  now  deliberately,  deceiving  Claudius,  and  affecting  to 
believe  in  the  reality  of  Hamlet's  madness.  Otherwise  it 
would  seem  that  the  Queen  had  only  pretended  to  believe 
her  son  was  not  mad,  and  that  she  was  now  giving  his  uncle 
fresh  cause  to  put  some  restraint  on  him.  The  meaning  of 
her  conduct  becomes  much  more  intelligible  on  reference  to 
the  Quarto  of  1603. 


60  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

In  that  edition  a  subsequent  scene  between  the  Queen  and 
Horatio,*  to  which  I  have  before  alluded,  makes  it  clear  that 
the  author's  intention  was  to  represent  the  Queen  now  as 
helping  Hamlet's  counterplots  against  the  treachery  of  Clau- 
dius. In  order  to  do  this,  she  could  adopt  no  better  device 
than  to  pretend  a  most  thorough  belief  in  the  genuineness  of 
her  son's  madness,  knowing,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  latter 
part  of  the  preceding  act,  she  did,  that  Hamlet  had  deter- 
mined to  go  to  England  agreeably  to  the  advice,  or  rather  the 
command,  of  Claudius. 

As  doubts  and  fears  of  discovery  thicken  around  the  guilty 
Claudius,  his  sententious  bursts  of  plausible  hypocrisy  become 
more  and  more  specious.  He  overflows  with  nice  morality. 
It  would  seem  as  if,  not  content  with  treacherously  robbing 
his  brother  of  his  crown,  his  Queen,  and  his  life,  he  had  also 
pilfered  his  philosophy.  Listen  to  his  exquisite  and  pathetic 
complaint : — 

Alas,  how  shall  this  bloody  deed  be  answer'd  ! 
It  will  be  laid  to  us,  whose  providence 
Should  have  kept  short,  restrain'd  and  out  of  haunt, 
This  mad  young  man  :  bat  so  much  was  our  love, 
We  would  not  understand  what  was  most  fit, 
But,  like  the  owner  of  a  foul  disease, 
To  keep  it  from  divulging,  let  it  feed 
Even  on  the  j.ith  of  life. 

We  almost  feel  inclined  to  bring  out  our  handkerchiefs  and 
weep  for  this  poor  injured  uncle,  whose  impracticable  nephew 
was  always  trying  his  angelic  patience,  till  at  last  even  its 
limit  was  reached,  and  it  could  endure  no  more,  The  first 
actor  who  has  the  courage  to  represent  Claudius  as  the  plau- 
sible smiling  villain  he  really  was,  with  features  so  expanded 
by  conviviality  that  even  the  pangs  he  suffered  from  the  in- 
gratitude of  his  dear  brother's  son,  whom  he  loved  with  such 
a  disinterested  love,  "  could  grave  no  wrinkle  there  ;"  who 
attempts  to  realise  Shakespeare's  conception,  so  exquisitely 
sarcastic,  yet  so  true  to  nature,  instead  of  representing  the 
seducer  of  Gertrude  as  a  beetle-browed  villain,  on  whose  brain 
and  shoulders  all  the  melodramas  for  the  last  fifty  years  seem 
to  have  left  their  fearful  weight — the  first  actor  who  has 
courage  to  effect  this  innovation  will,  I  venture  to  predict, 
create  at  once  a  great  sensation  and  a  greater  success. 

The  Queen's  next  speech  contains  a  beautiful  touch ;  in 
answer  to  the  inquiry  of  Claudius,  where  Hamlet  is  gone,  she 
says  :— 

*  See  Appendix  M. 


A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  Gl 

-. 

To  draw  apart  the  body  he  hath  kill'd  : 
•'er  whom  his  very  madness,  like  some  ore 
Among  a  mineral  of  metals  base, 
Shows  itself  pure  ;  he  weeps  for  what  is  done. 

This  shows  that  Hamlet's  affectation  of  something  which 
seemed  like  brutality,  at  the  end  of  the  last  scene,  was  not 
long  sustained ;  and  that  the  suffering  of  his  gentle  nature, 
when  the  excitement  under  which  he  had  committed  this 
misdirected  deed  of  violence  had  passed  away,  was  greater 
than  he  cared  to  show  before  those  whom  he  wished  to  be- 
lieve in  his  assumption  of  insanity.  Claudius  has  not  yet 
exhausted  his  vein  of  moral  indignation — 

this  vile  deed 

We  must,  with  all  our  majesty  and  skill, 
Both  countenance  and  excuse. 

The  two  courtiers  are  summoned  back — 

Ho,  Guildenstern  ! 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  inseparability  of  these  two 
charming  young  men  is  so  great,  that  it  is  only  necessary  to 
call  one  for  both  to  appear.  They  remind  us  of  nothing  so 
much  as  of  a  well-fed  pair  of  lap-dogs,  each  so  jealous  of  the 
other  that  neither  will  let  his  companion  out  of  his  sight,  in 
case  he  should  receive  a  greater  share  of  caresses  and  food 
from  their  master's  hand.  They  are  commissioned  to  seek 
Hamlet  out,  to  find  where  he  has  put  the  body,  and  bring  it 
into  the  chapel.  The  King's  last  words  in  this  scene,  ad- 
dressed to  Gertrude,  foreshadow  the  tragic  events  that  are 
near  at  hand — 

O,  come  away  ! 
My  soul  is  full  of  discord  and  dismay.  [Exeunt. 

The  next  scene,  a  very  short  one,  commences  with  Hamlet's 
entrance  from  the  lobby  where  he  has  placed  the  body  of 
Pplonius,  with  the  words — 

Safely  stowed. 

The  voices  of  the  two  concordant  courtiers  are  heard  from 
within,  calling — 

Hamlet  !  Lord  Hamlet ! 

Hamlet  hears,  but  apparently  does  not  recognise  them.  It 
is  not  very  clear  what  Shakespeare's  intention  is  in  this 
'scene,  to  which  we  find  no  parallel  in  the  earliest  edition  of 
the  play  (4to,  1603),  the  greater  portion  of  the  dialogue  which 
follows  being  embodied  in  that  edition  with  the  second  scene 
of  the  third  act.  Hamlet  could  never  have  believed  that  by 
hiding  the  body  of  Polonius  he  could  conceal  the  circurn- 


62  A  STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

stances  of  the  hapless  Lord  Chamberlain's  death ;  it  is  more 
probable  that  his  conduct,  at  this  point,  is  regulated  by  the 
desire  to  keep  up  the  assumption  of  madness  than  by  any 
other  purpose.  Certain  it  is  that  on  the  entrance  of  Eosen- 
crantz  and  Guildenstern  he  assumes  towards  them  an  ironical 
incoherence,  very  different  from  the  rational  sarcasm  with 
which  he  had  hitherto  treated  them. 

Ros.     What  have  you  done,  my  lord,  with  the  dead  body  ? 

HAM.  Compounded  it  with  dust,  whereto  'tis  kin. 

Ros,     Tell  us  where  'tis,  that  we  may  take  it  thence 
And  bear  it  to  the  chapel. 

HAM.  Do  not  believe  it. 

Ros.     Believe  what  ? 

HAM.  That  I  can  keep  your  counsel  and  not  mine  own.  Besides,  to  be 
demanded  of  a  sponge  !*  what  replication  should  be  made  by  the  son  of  a 
king? 

Ros.     Take  you  me  for  a  sponge,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Ay,  sir  ;  that  soaks  up  the  king's  countenance,  his  rewards,  his 
authorities.  But  such  officers  do  the  king  best  service  in  the  end  ;  he  keeps 
them,  like  an  ape,  in'the  corner  of  his  jaw  ;  first  mouthed,  to  be  last  swal- 
lowed :  when  he  needs  what  you  have  gleaned,  it  is  but  squeezing  you,  and, 
sponge,  you  shall  be  dry  again. 

Ros.     I  understand  you  not,  my  lord. 

HAM.  I  am  glad  of  it :  a  knavish  speech  sleeps  in  a  foolish  ear. 

Ros.  My  lord,  you  must  tell  us  where  the  body  is,  and  go  with  us  to 
the  king. 

HAM.  The  body  is  with  the  king,  but  the  king  is  not  with  the  body. 
The  king  is  a  thing— 

GUIL.  A  thing,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.  Of  nothing  :  bring  me  to  him.     Hide  fox,  and  all  after.       [Exeunt. 

We  need  only  compare  the  above  with  Hamlet's  language 
to  these  same  courtiers  immediately  after  the  play  scene,  to 
see  that  he  gives  rein  to  his  eccentric  humour  more  com- 
pletely than  he  has  yet  done  in  the  presence  of  any  one, 
except  Polonius. 

In  the  next  scene  the  King  enters,  attended.  The  speech, 
which  he  addresses  to  those  about  him,  is  a  kind  of  apology 
for  the  leniency  which  he  has  shown  towards  Hamlet,  f  The 
King  has  a  very  difficult  part  to  play ;  he  dares  not  leave 
unpunished  such  a  deed  of  violence  as  Hamlet  has  committed 
in  killing  Polonius ;  at  the  same  time  he  dares  not  openly 
punish  Hamlet  on  account  of  his  popularity  :  so  he  remains 
between  two  dilemmas,  and  though  the  course  which  he  takes 
is,  in  his  position,  the  safest  one,  he  does  not  succeed,  as  we 
shall  see  further  on,  in  exonerating  himself  from  the  suspicion 

*  The  comparison  of  courtiers  to  a  sponge  is  found  in  other  works  of  this 
period.  See  Additional  Note,  No.  5 A. 

^  In  the  Quarto,  1603,  this  speech,  or,  rather,  the  speech  which  corre- 
sponds to  it,  is  addressed  to  the  Queen  alone.  See  Appendix  N. 


A    STUDY    OF   HAMLET.  03 

gf  complicity  in  the  killing  of  Polonius.  Had  his  con- 
science been  free  as  regarded  his  late  brother,  had  his 
assumption  of  the  throne  been  the  consequence  of  a  legal 
vote  on  the  part  of  the  people,  and  not  a  half-condoned  usur- 
pation, his  course  would  have  been  very  simple  ;  he  would 
have  commanded  Hamlet  to  be  tried  before  a  proper 
court,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  death 
would  have  been  fully  investigated  ;  but  this  he  could  not 
do,  because  no  inquiry  could  take  place  without  subjecting 
him  to  the  danger  of  discovery  with  regard  to  that  crime,  of 
which  he  now  must  have  known  that  Hamlet  more  than 
suspected  him.  Under  all  these  circumstances  the  device  of 
sending  Hamlet  to  England  was  the  most  ingenious  that 
Claudius  could  adopt.  He  made  it  appear  to  the  courtiers,  on 
the  one  hand,  as  a  measure  taken  for  the  safety  of  the  State, 
and  to  Hamlet,  on  the  other  hand,  as  one  taken  for  his  indi- 
vidual safety — 

KING.  Hamlet,  this  deed,  for  thine  especial  safety, 
Which  we  do  tender,  as  we  dearly  grieve 
For  that  which  thou  hast  done,  must  send  thee  hence 
With  fiery  quickness  :  therefore  prepare  thyself  ; 
The  bark  is  ready  and  the  wind  at  help, 
The  associates  tend,  and  everything  is  bent 
For  England. 

HAM.  For  England  ? 

KING.  Ay,  Hamlet. 

HAM.  Good. 

KING.  So  is  it,  if  thou  knew'st  our  purposes. 

Hamlet's  answer  here  is  worthy  of  remark,  as  taken  in  con- 
nection with  that  declaration  of  his  purpose  with  regard  to 
this  expedition  to  England,  which  he  had  made  to  his  mother 
at  the  end  of  the  scene  which  concludes  the  last  act — 

HAM.  I  see  a  cherub  that  sees  them.  But,  come;  for  England!  Fare- 
well, dear  mother. 

KING.  Thy  loving  father,  Hamlet. 

HAM.  My  mother  :  father  and  mother  is  man  and  wife ;  man  and  wife 
is  one  flesh,  and  so,  my  mother.  Come,  for  England  !  [Exit. 

Hamlet  cannot  carry  his  hypocrisy  so  far  as  to  pretend 
any  cordiality  towards  Claudius.  However  slow  his  arm 
may  be,  his  tongue  at  least  is  quick  to  wound  the  murderer 
of  his  father. 

The  last  speech  of  the  King  in  this  scene,  of  which  the  four 
first  lines  are  addressed  to  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  is 
of  considerable  importance  as  bearing  on  the  question, 
whether  they  had  any  guilty  knowledge  of  the  purport  of  the 
despatches  which  they  were  taking  from  Claudius  to  the 


64  A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

Government  of  England;*  the  words  addressed  to  them 
are — 

Follow  him  at  foot  ;  tempt  him  with  speed  aboard  ; 
Delay  it  not ;  I'll  have  him  hence  to-night : 
Away  !  for  everything  is  seal'd  and  done 
That  else  leans  on  the  affair  :  pray  you,  make  haste. 

It  is  not  till  they  are  gone,  and  he  is  alone,  that  the  King 
confesses  his  treacherous  purpose,  and  that  the  commission 
given  to  the  two  courtiers  contained  "an  exact  command," 
as  Hamlet  afterwards  calls  it,  that  his  nephew's  head  should 
be  instantly  struck  off.  I  do  not  see  how  Eosencrantz  and 
Criiildenstern  can  be  supposed  to  have  known  for  certain  the 
purpose  on  which  they  were  sent ;  but  had  they  been  true  to 
their  early  friendship  for  Hamlet,  and  loyal  to  the  young 
prince,  who  should  have  been  their  king,  and  was,  by  the 
acknowledgment  of  his  usurping  uncle,  the  heir  to  the 
crown  ;  if  they  had  not  been  false  to  the  nobler  duties  of 
friend  and  subject  alike,  they  would  never  have  undertaken 
the  mission  at  all.  It  is  impossible  they  could  have  be- 
lieved that,  in  sanding  Hamlet  to  England,  the  King  was 
really  consulting  anything  but  his  own  safety. 

It  will  be  more  convenient  to  examine,  at  this  point,  such 
defence  of  his  conduct  towards  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern 
as  Hamlet  makes  when  narrating  his  adventures  to  Horatio 
in  Act  V.,  Scene  '2.  The  scene  commences  thus  : — 

HAM.  So  much  for  this,  sir  :  now  shall  you  see  the  other. 

Of  what  Hamlet  had  been  previously  speaking  we  do  not 
know  exactly;  most  probably,  judging  from  the  letter  to 
Horatio  (see  Act  IV.,  Scene  6),  he  had  been  giving  his  friend 
a  more  detailed  account  of  his  adventure  with,  and  capture 
by,  the  pirates.  The  letter  ends  thus : — 

"  I  have  words  to  speak  in  thine  ear  will  make  thee  dumb  ;  yet  are  they 

much  too  light  for  the  bore  of  the  matter Kosencrantz  and 

Guildenstern  hold  their  course  for  England  :  of  them  I  have  much  to  tell 
thee." 

It  is  evident  that  Hamlet  attached  great  importance  to  the 
news  which  he  had  to  tell,  and  that,  although  he  had  all  along 
suspected  the  King  of  some  treacherous  purpose  in  sending 
him  to  England,  and  had  resolved  to  run  the  risk  of  going 
there  with  a  hope  of  discovering  that  same  treachery,  yet, 
when  his  suspicions  were  so  completely  confirmed,  he  'felt  the 
same  kind  of  painful  satisfaction,  and  half-delighted  agitation, 
which  he  displayed  after  the  revelation  made  to  him  by  his 


*  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  6. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  G5 

father's  ghost,  though,  in  that  case,  those  feelings  were  then 
.mingled  with  a  horror,  which  is  lacking  here.  We  may,  how- 
ever, note  this  feature  in  Hamlet's  character,  that  while  he  is 
very  ready  to  suspect -some  evil  purpose  in  the  minds  of  those 
about  him,  and  though  these  suspicions  are  in  most  cases 
justified  by  the  event,  he  receives  the  confirmation  of  them 
with  as  much  astonishment  as  if  he  had  never  had  any  sus- 
picion at  all.  There  is  something  of  childish  exultation  at 
the  proofs  of  his  shrewdness  ;  there  is  also  that  which  shows 
us  that  his  cynicism  was  of  the  mind  and  not  of  the  heart — 
that  however  ill  he  thought  of  the  world  in  general,  his 
indignation  against  particular  instances  of  evil-doing  was  in 
no  degree  blunted. 
Hamlet  continues — 

You  do  remember  all  the  circumstance  ? 

To  which  Horatio  replies,  as  if  the  very  suspicion  of  forget- 
fulness  on  this  subject  was  intolerable — 

Remember  it,  my  lord  ! 

What  was  the  circumstance,  or,  as  we  should  say,  what 
were  the  circumstances,  to  which  Hamlet  alludes  ?  I  suppose 
they  were  the  circumstances  under  which  he  left  Denmark ; 
that  is  to  say,  just  after  the  accidental  killing  of  Polonius, 
the  agitating  interview  with  his  mother,  the  reappearance  of 
the  ghost  "  to  whet  his  blunted  purpose ;"  add  to  these  the 
increased  fear  and  suspicion  with  which  the  King  evidently 
regarded  him,  and  the  small  chance  which,  at  the  time  of  his 
departure,  there  seemed  to  be  that  Hamlet  would  ever  accom- 
plish the  task  of  revenge  which  had  been  set  him.  All  these 
circumstances  would  naturally  agitate  his  mind,  and  heighten 
the  apprehension  of  treachery  which  he  felt.  Hamlet  thus 
continues  his  narrative  : — 

Sir,  in  my  heart  there  was  a  kind  of  fighting 

That  would  not  let  me  sleep  :  methought  I  lay 

Worse  than  the  mutines  in  the  bilboes.     Rashly,* 

And  praised  be  rashness  for  it,  let  us  know, 

Our  indiscretion  sometime  serves  us  well 

When  our  deep  plots  do  pall ;  and  that  ^ould  learn  us 

There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends,^'* 

Rough-hew  them  how  we  will. 

jti-GE.  That  is  most  certain. 

HAM.    Up  from  my  cabin, 

My  sea-gown  scarf'd  about  me,  in  the  dark 

Groped  I  to  find  out  them  ;f  had  my  desire, 

*  The  long  parenthesis  here  will  be  observed  by  the  careful  reader.  The 
sentence  would  run,  "  Rashly,  up  from  my  cabin,"  &c.,  or  the  parenthesis 
may  begin,  as  suggested  by  Seymour  ("  Remarks,"  &c.,  Vol.  II.,  p.  200),  at 
the  words,  "let  us  know." 

f  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  7, 


66  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET, 

Finger'd  their  packet,  and  in  fine  withdrew 

To  mine  own  room  again  ;  making  so  bold, 

My  fears  forgetting  manners,  to  unseal 

Their  grand  commission  ;  where  I  found,  Horatio, — 

0  royal  knavery  ! — an  exact  command, 
Larded  with  many  several  sorts  of  reasons, 
Importing  Denmark's  health  and  England's  too, 
With,  ho  !  such  bugs  and  goblins  in  my  life, 
That,  on  the  supervise,  no  leisure  bated, 

No,  not  to  stay  the  grinding  of  the  axe, 
My  head  should  be  struck  off. 

The  toue  in  which  Hamlet  speaks  of  the  treacherous  plot 
against  his  life,  which  he  had  so  opportunely  discovered,  is 
throughout  one  of  gleeful  irony  ;  it  would  seem  he  had  never 
communicated  his  suspicions  to  Horatio,  who  receives  his 
narrative  with  expressions  of  unaffected  astonishment. 
Hamlet  thus  continues  the  account  of  his  proceedings  :— 

Being  thus  be-netted  round  with  villanies,  — 
Or  I  could  make  a  prologue  to  my  brains,* 
They  had  begun  the  play,  —I  sat  me  down  ; 
Devised  a  new  commission  ;  wrote  it  fair  : 

1  once  did  hold  it,  as  our  statists  do, 

A  baseness  to  write  fair,  and  labour'd  much 

How  to  forget  that  learning  ;  but,  sir,  now 

It  did  me  yeoman's  service  :  wilt  thou  know 

The  effect  of  what  1  wrote  ? 

Holt.  Ay,  good  my  lord. 

HAM.  An  earnest  conjuration  from  the  king, 

As  England  was  his  faithful  tributary, 

As  love  between  them  like  the  palm  might  flourish, 

As  peace  should  still  her  wheaten  garland  wear 

And  stand  a  comma  'tween  their  amities, 

And  many  such-like  '  As  'es  of  great  charge, 

That,  on  the  view  and  knowing  of  these  contents, 

Without  debatement  further,  more  or  less, 

He  should  the  bearers  put  to  sudden  death,, 

Not  shriving-time  allow'd. 

HUK.  How  was  this  seal'd  ? 

HAM.  Why,  even  in  that  was  heaven  ordinant. 

I  had  my  father's  signet  in  my  purse, 

Which  was  the  model  of  that  Danish  seal  : 

Folded  the  writ  up  in  the  form  of  the  other  ; 

Subscribed  it ;  gave't  the  impression  ;  placed  it  safely, 

The  changeling  never  known.     Now.  the  next  day 

Was  our  sea-fight  ;  and  what  to  this  was  sequent 

Thou  know'st  already. 

The  language  of  Hamlet  indicates  great  excitement,  and,, 
as  I  have  said  before,  it  is  characterised  by  a  childisl^  exulta- 
tion in  the  success  of  his  strategy.  That  he  should  have 
thus  craftily  obtained,  at  the  same  time,  such  strong  proofs  of 
the  King's  treachery,  and  so  ready  a  means  of  avenging  him- 
self on  the  two  time-serving  courtiers  who  had  been  so  faith- 

*  Sec  Additional  Notes,  No.  8. 


A   STUDY    OF   HAMLET.  67 

less  to  their  professed  friendship  for  him,  seems  to  have  pro- 
duced no  other  impression  on  his  mind  than  one  of  delighted 
self-satisfaction;  no  gratitude  to  Providence  for  his  almost 
miraculous  escape  from  so  imminent  a  danger  finds  a  place  in 
his  heart;  and  we  feel  almost  disgusted  for  the  moment  at 
what  strikes  us,  at  first  sight,  as  a  mixture  of  malice  and 
vanity.  But  let  us  read  a  little  further  on  : — 

Hon.  Why,  what  a  king  is  this  ! 

HAM.  Does  it  not,  thinks't  thee,  stand  me  now  upon — 

He  that  hath  kill'd  my  king,  and  whored  my  mother  ; 

Popp'd  in  between  the  election  and  my  hopes  ; 

Thrown  out  his  angle  for  my  proper  life, 

And  with  such  cozenage — js't  not  perfect  conscience, 
,  To  quit  him  with  this  arm  ?  and  is't  not  to  be  damn'd, 

To  let  this  canker  of  our  nature  come 
•  In  further  evil  ? 
HOR.    It  must  be  shortly  known  to  him  from  England 

What  is  the  issue  of  the  business  there. 
HAM.  It  will  be  short  :  the  interim  is  mine  ; 

And  a  man's  life's  no  more  than  to  say  "  One." 

We  see  now  that  Hamlet  is  really  trying  to  justify  to  his 
own  conscience  the  revenge  which  he  has  never  been  able  to 
accomplish.  As  I  have  pointed  out  before,  his  great  difficulty 
is'  to  bring  himself  to  commit  an  open  act  of  Jhomicide  ;  he 
could  kill  the  King  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  when  he 
thought  he  was  hid  behind  the  arras,  but  not  when  he  was 
kneeling  before  his  eyes.  He  professes  to  regard  the  task  of 
revenging  his  father's  murder  as  a  sacred  duty  imposed  on 
him  by  a  supernatural  visitation,  and  justified  by  the  corrobo- 
rating evidence  of  the  murderer's  demeanour  during  the  play 
scene.  If  there  could  be  anything  wanting  to  remove  all 
merciful  scruples  from  his  mind,  and  to  make  the  life  of 
Claudius  more  justly  forfeit  to  him,  it  was  this  treacherous 
attempt  on  Hamlet's  own  life;  the  motive  of  self-defence 
was  now  added  to  all  the  others,  urging  him  to  lose  no  time 
in  seizing  the  sword  of  justice  and  striking  the  decisive  blow 
which  should  rid  the  world  of  such  a  monster  of  guilt.  But 
instead  of  doing  so,  he  still  debates  the  matter  over  and  over 
again  with  himself;  still  wastes  his  ingenuity  in  devising 
more  urgent  incitements  to  action  while  he  does  nothing ; 
still  spends  his  energy  in  bitter  satire  and  vigorous  denuncia- 
tions of  the  murderer ;  until  accident  brings  the  opportunity, 
until  the  impulse  of  passion  lends  the  necessary  resolution. 

Strange,  indeed,  is  the  contrast  between  his  endless  self- 
vindications,  as  far  as  the  King  is  concerned,  and  his  utter 
indifference  at  the  sudden  and  fearful  end  he  has  contrived 
for  the  two  courtiers.  Is  it  that,  because  the  sea  is  between 


68  A   STUDY    OF   HAMLET. 

him  and  his  victims,  his  conscience  sees  but  dimly  at  such  a 
distance  ?  Some  powerful  associations  with  his  uncle,  dating 
back,  perhaps,  to  a  happy  childhood,  must  have  exercised  an 
influence— -n one  the  less  strong  because  he  would  not  acknow- 
ledge it  to  himself — over  Hamlet's  mind.  The  very  pains  he 
takes  to  add  fuel  to  his  hate  show  that  he  knew  how  difficult 
it  was  to  keep  the  fire  burning. 

But  I  must  return  to  the  main  point  in  question  ;  I  mean 
to  what  extent  can  we  admit  Hamlet's  narrative  as  a  justifi- 
cation of  his  conduct  towards  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  ? 
The  malignant  misrepresentation  of  Hamlet's  character,  for 
which  Steevens^is  responsible,  has  drawa»forth  many  able  and 
indignant  vindications  of  Shakespeare's  favourite  hero  ;  but 
while  unable  to  agree,  with  any  of  Steevens'  deductions,  I 
must  confess  that  he  seems  right  in  refusing  to  judge  Hamlet 
by  any  other  evidence  than  that  afforded  by  the  tragedy  itself. 
If  we  were  to  admit  any  circumstances,  found  only  in  the 
original  story  of  Saxo  Grammatictis,  as  exculpating  the  dra- 
matist from  any  blemishes  in  the  delineation  of  his  characters, 
we  could  not  in  justice  decline  to  hold  him  responsible  for 
other  circumstances,  derived  from  the  same  source,  which 
might  tell  against  him  ;  and  thus  we  should  be  led  into  all 
kinds  of  errors,  and  should  be  utterly  unable  to  form  any  true 
estimate  of  Shakespeare's  work.  . 

It  is  useless  to  deny  that  in  the  play  of  "  Hamlet "  there  ja 
not  one  lino  \vliieli  can  be  fairly  said  to  prove  that  Rosen- 
crantz and  (iuildenstern  knew  what  were  the  contents  of  the 
paTxKet  committed  to  their  care.  Hamlet  himself  does  not 
say  they  knewHT,'  lie  expresses  his  distrust  of  them  in  the 
strongest  language  to  his  mother  (see  Act  III.,  Scene  4,  lines 
202  to  210  inclusive),  but  all  that  he  says  to  Horatio  now  is — 

Why,  man,  they  did  make  love  to  this  employment ; 

their  defeat 
Does  by  their  own  insinuation  grow  : 

and  he  seems  to  justify  the  terrible  punishment  he  had  in- 
flicted on  them  by  the  very  fact  that  their  conduct  throughout 
had  been  so  underhand;  and  so  cunningly  false  to  him  as 
their  friend  and  prince,  that  although  their  treachery  was 
undoubted,  they  had  not  been  openly  guilty  of  any  design 
against  his  life.  Hamlet  declares — 

They  are  not  near  my  conscience  ; 

because  he  considered  that  by  kying_them selves  out  to  serve 
the  King's  ends  from  the  yeryHrst  Inoment  they  arrived  at 
T/ourt;  by  their  lack  j^f  frankness  towards  him,  their  old 


A    STUDY    OF   HAMLET.  69 

schoolfellow,_at  their  first  meeting  ;  by  their  steadily  blinding 
their  eyes  to.  the  state  oiL  affairs,  at  Court,  and  by  denying  to 
the  griefs,  qf  .their  friend  any  sympathy  ;  by  readily  accepting 
the  theory  of  his  madness  without  trying  to  account  for  his 
melancholy  and  retirement  from  Court  in  any  other  manner; 
by  accepting  an  embassy  which  their  own  common  sense 
must  have  told  them  could  not  mean  any  good  to  Hamlet, 
they  had  been  so  false  to  the_(lutics  of  friendship  and  to  the 
honour  of  gentlemen,  thg^Jfrgy  dftaprYfld  thvM^ath  rF  trmtor° 
If  niusT  be  rememberef'that  in  Hamlet's  character  Shake- 
speare intended  to  protest  against  conventionality  of  all 
kinds.  As  to  what  the  world  might  think  right  or  wrong, 
Hamlet  cared  little :  public  opinion  might  justify  the  usurp- 
ation and  marriage  of  Claudius  ;  respectable  members  of  the 
Court  might  overlook  the  indecent  haste  with  which  that 
marriage,  really  incestuous,  was  concluded  ;  worthy  men  of 
the  world  might  hold  it  honourable  as  well  as  expedient  to 
do  the  bidding  of  such  a  man  as  Claudius,  seeing  he  was  a 
king ;  these  two  well-behaved  young  gentlemen,  who  passed 
for  his  two  most  intimate  friends,  might  wonder  why  Hamlet 
was  so  odd  and  so  out  of  spirits,  might  choose  to  forget  how 
he  loved  his  father,  might  assume  that  he  acquiesced  in  the 
dishonour  of  his  mother  and  in  his  own  disinheritance ; 
others  might  see  nothing  to  blame  in  their  conduct ;  but  this 
brave,  accomplished,  eccentric  prince  was  unlike  others  in 
this,  that  he  judged  conduct  by  a  higher  standard  than  that 
of  courts,  or  of  ttiB-fasitronable ~ World. ;  he  loved  good  for  its 
own  sake,  not  for  what  could  be  got  by  it ;  and  in  his  indig- 
nation at  the  despicable  weakness  of  these  two  courtiers,  in 
the  scorn  which  he  felt  for  their  time-serving  cowardice,  he 
allowed  himself  to  be  hurried  into  the  commission  of  an  act 
of  cruelty,  because,  at  the  time,  it  wore  an  appearance  of  an 
exquisitely  ironical  punishment.  It  is  possible  that  Shake- 
speare meant  to  mark,  as  strongly  as  he  could,  the  hatred  of 
aoioble.  honest  nature  for  that  complicity  in  crime  which  is 
the  result  of  wilful  blindness  and  self-interested  negligence. 
The  lesson  is  one  which  in  this  age  we  may  all  take  to  heart ; 
and  while  we  shrink  from  the  cruelty  which  is  inseparable 
from  all  acts  of  vengeance,  while  we  are  pained  to  see  the 
treachery  of  Claudius  retorted  on  his  agents  with  such  ter- 
rible exactness,  we  cannot  help  feeling  how  dangerous  it  is  to 
side  with  evil  against  good,  however  high  the  wages  ;  to  shut 
our  eyes  to  the  truth,  however  unpleasant ;  to  do  wrong  be- 
cause the  world  cries  out  loudly  it  is  right,  and  drowns  the 
voice  of  conscience  in  the  roar  of  its  applause. 


70  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

The  next  scene  we  come  to  (Act  IV.,  Scene  4),  following 
the  regular  order  of  the  play,  is  one  which  has  been  omitted 
almost  invariably  on  the  stage.  I  find  that  Betterton  cer- 
tainly never  attempted  it.*  Whether  his  predecessors  did 
we  do  not  know ;  but  the  majority  of  his  successors  have  fol- 
lowed his  example.  There  are,  I  admit,  grave  reasons  for 
its  omission,  though  no  great  actor  can  study  the  part  of 
Hamlet  without  longing  to  deliver  the  grand  and  charac- 
teristic soliloquy  which  it  contains.  In  the  first  place,  the 
scene  is  very  awkwardly  placed  as  regards  time  ;  it  comes  in 
the  middle  of  an  act,  although  it  is  evident  that  some  con- 
siderable interval  of  time  must  elapse  between  this  and  the 
following  scene.'!'  In  the  second  place,  the  soliloquy  makes 
a  very  serious  demand  on  the  strength  of  the  actor  at  a  time 
when  the  most  powerful  of  Hamlets  must  feel  the  need  of 
rest;  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  latter  objection 
would  have  been  oftener  overcome  had  the  speech  been  of  a 
more  "  effective  "  nature  from  the  actor's  point  of  view.  An- 
4  other  difficulty  is  that  the  scene  necessitates  the  introduction 
I  of  Fortinbras,  who  has  been  mercilessly  suppressed  in  all 
recent  acting  editions  of  the  play.  The  omission  of  the  soli- 

(loquy,  which  seems  to  me  absolutely  necessary  to  the  perfect" 
comprehension  and  appreciation  of  Hamlet's  character)  is  jo" 
much  to  be  deplored,  that  I  would  advise  the  restoration  of  this 
scene  even  at  the  risk,  of  ending  the  fourth  act  here,  and  of 
so  adding  another  act  to  the  conventional  five,  into  which,  by 
a  most  arbitrary  system,  all  tragedies  are  divided.     The  sub- 
division of  long  acts  in  operas  is  constantly  practised  with 
great  advantage  to  the  audience  and  to  the  actors  :  I  confess 
I  cannot  see  why  such  a  convenient  practice  should  not  be 
extended  to  the  dramatic  works  of  Shakespeare. 

Hamlet,  accompanied  by  Rosen  crantz  and  Guildenstern,  is 
on  his  way  to  the  ship  which  is  to  bear  him  to  England,  there 
to  die  by  the  foulest  treachery,  of  which  he  has  strong  sus- 
picions but  no  certain  knowledge.  On  his  way  to  the  place 
of  embarkation  he  encounters  the  soldiers  of  Fortinbras  on 
their  march  through  the  dominions  of  his  uncle  to  the  "  little 
patch  of  ground  "  which  it  is  their  object  to  conquer  from  the 
Poles.  Hamlet  thus  questions  a  Captain  whom  Fortinbras 
has  despatched  on  an  embassy  to  Claudius : — 

HAM.  Good  sir,  whose  powers  are  these  ? 
CAP.    They  are  of  Norway,  sir. 
HAM.  How  purposed,  sir,  I  pray  you  ? 
CAP.    Against  some  part  of  Jfoland. 

*  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  9. 
f  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  10. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  71 

HAM.    Who  commands  them,  sir  ? 

CAP.     The  nephew  to  old  Norway,  Fortinbras.* 

HAM.    Goes  it  against  the  main  of  Poland,  sir, 

Or  for  some  frontier  ? 
CAP.     Truly  to  speak,  and  with  no  addition, 

We  go  to  gain  a  little  patch  of  ground  t 

That  hath  in  it  no  profit  but  the  name. 

To  pay  five  ducats,  five,  I  would  not  farm  it ; 

Nor  will  it  yield  to  Norway  or  the  Pole 

A  ranker  rate,  should  it  be  sold  in  fee. 
HAM.    Why,  then  the  Polack  never  will  defend  it. 
CAP.     Yes,  it  is  already  garrison'd. 
HAM.    Two  thousand  souls  and  twenty  thousand  ducats 

Will  not  debate  the  question  of  this  straw  : 

This  is  the  imposthume  of  much  wealth  and  peace, 

That  inward  breaks,  and  shows  no  cause  without 

Why  the  man  dies.     I  humbly  thank  you,  sir. 
CAP.     God  be  wi'  you,  sir.  [Exit. 

Ros.  Will't  please  you  go,  my  lord  ? 

HAM.    I'll  be  with  you  straight.     Go  a  little  before. 

I  think  this  scene  is  devised  with  the  moat  admirable  art.  \ 
Hamlet  is  here  brought  into  contact  with  an  extravagant  j 
instance  of  that  capacity  for  action  in  which  he  is  so  painfully 
deficient :  as  before,  in  the  case  of  the  player,  he  was  witness 
of  the  most  violent  emotions  excited  by  a  fictitious  sorrow,  so 
is"  he  now  the  witness  of  the  most  restless  activity  directed 
against  an  object  so  insignificant  in  itself,  that  the  most  prac^ 
tical  and  active  mind  might  well  ask  cui  bono  ?  Here  -is  the 
art  of  the  dramatist ;  for  if  the  object  of  this  expedition  lee 
by  Fortinbras  had  been  the  conquest  of  some  vast  and  wealthy 
territory,  or  the  punishment  of  some  gross  outrage,  or  th 
vindication  of  some  great  principle  of  national  honour,  th 
self-reproach  excited  in  Hamlet's  soul,  the  contrast  with  his 
own  cowardly  inertness,  would  have  been  less  strong.^  The 
analytical  powers  of  his  mind  detect  at  once  the  moral  o 
such  an  incident,  as  it  affects  his  own  character  ;  the  morbid 
soli-consciousness  which  lies  at  the  root  of  that  very  inca- 
pacity for  action,  so  bitterly,  yet  so  vainly  censured  by  hirn- 
_selfc-- an  incapacity  which  he  is  ever  confessing  but  never 
correcting — finds  in  this  rash  aggression  of  the  fiery  young 
Fortinbras  new  food  tor  cynical  reflection.  He  philosophises 
admirably,  resolves  most  daringly ;  but  carries  out  his  philo- 
sophy and  executes  his  resolve  most  feebly.  Let  us  examine 
the  soliloquy,  and  we  shall  see  how  masterly  is  the  delinea- 
tion of  Hamlet's  character,  how  subtly  the  workings  of  such 
a  mind  are  laid  bare  before  us  : — 

How  all  occasions  do  inform  against  me, 
And  spur  my  dull  revenge  !    What  is  a  man, 

*  See  Appendix  0. 

t  See  Additional  Notes,  No.  11. 


72 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 


If  his  chief  good  and  market  of  his  time 

Be  but  to  sleep  and  feed  ?  a  beast,  no  more. 

Sure,  he  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse, 

Looking  before  and  after,  gave  us  not 

That  capability  and  god-like  reason 

To  fust  in  us  unused.     Now,  whether  it  be 

Bestial  oblivion,  or  some  craven  scruple 

Of  thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event, — 

A  thought  which,  quarter'd,  hath  but  one  part  wisdom 

And  ever  three  parts  coward,  — I  do  not  know 

Why  yet  I  live  to  say  '  this  thing's  to  do,' 

Sith  I  have  cause,  and  will,  and  strength,  and  means, 

To  do't,     Examples  gross  as  earth  exhort  me  : 

Witness  this  army,  of  such  mass  and  charge, 

Led  by  a  delicate  and  tender  prince, 

Whose  spirit  with  divine  ambition  piiff'd 

Makes  mouths  at  the  invisible  event, 

Exposing  what  is  mortal  and  unsure 

To  all  that  fortune,  death,  and  danger  dare, 

Even  for  an  egg-shell.     Rightly  to  be  great, 

Is  not  to  stir  without  great  argument, 

But  greatly  to  find  quarrel  in  a  straw 

When  honour's  atr  the  stake.     How  stand  I  then, 

That  have  a  father  kill'd,  a  mother  stain'd, 

Excitements  of  my  reason  and  my  blood, 

And  let  all  sleep,  while  to  my  shame  I  see 

The  imminent  death  of  twenty  thousand  men, 

That  for  a  fantasy  and  trick  of  fame 

Go  to  their  graves  like  beds,  light  for  a  plot 

Whereon  the  numbers  cannot  try  the  cause, 

Which  is  not  tomb  enflugh  and  continent 

To  hide  the  slain  ?     Q.  from  this  time  forth. 

My  thoughts  be  bloody,  or  be  nothing  worth"! 

That  wonderful  inconsistency,  which  is  "the  essence  of 
human  nature,  was  never  more  forcibly  pictured  than  in  this 
grand  speech.  When  we  read  these  words  we  are  astonished 
at  the  shrewdness^_the__incisive  criticism,  the  stupendous 
Qc^n^wn5eus£^iLthe-iaan-wha  could  utter  them  ;  all  thatjias. 
passed  before,  surely,  was  a  dream';  all  hesitation,  all  pro- 
crastination, all  scruples _()f_c()_nsc_iejice;  all  tenderness  of  nature, 
alTTigrror-tiff^ioIence.  all  over-sensitiveness  as  to  the  justice 
pFrevertge,  all  shrinking  .from  the  sternest  severity  of  punish*- 
inent,  must  disappear,  and  the  reflective  hero  will  now  prove 
himself  trTe~herb >  oTjction^l _ Beginning  with  the  two  servile 
and  cowardly  knaves,  the  bearers  of  the  treacherous  mandate, 
of  whom  he  will  make  a  terrible  example,  he  will  at  once  go 
on  to  the  arch-murderer  himself,  and  will  expiate  with  un- 
relenting vengeance  the  death  and  dishonour  .of  his  beloved 
and  honoured  father,  fulfilling  to  the  letter  the  solemn  charge 
of  the  perturbed  and  tortured  spirit,  and  so  procuring  for  it 
that  rest  which,  while  its  commands  were  unheeded,  it  could 
never  know.  We  have  already  seen  how  such  expectation  is 
partly  realised ;  we  have  yet  to  see  how  faithfully  Shakespeare 


A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 


73 


follows  out  the  grand  problem  of  inconsistency  which  he  has 
set  himself.  The  most  tragic  element  which  exists  in  the 
world,  that  irony  of  events  which  sets  at  nought  all  human 
purposes,  even  while  it  seems  to  carry  out  their  ends,  was 
never  more  vividly  exemplified  than  in  the  catastrophe  of  this 
tragedy. 

How  grand  are  the  opening  words  of  this  soliloquy  ! 

How  all  occasions  do  inform  against  me, 
And  spur  my  dull  revenge  1 

The  word  "  all "  should  be  slightly  emphasised  here.  The 
striking  accident  of  his  meeting  these  forces,  and  learning  the 
object  of  their  march,  makes  him  exaggerate  the  universality 
with  which  all  events'  seem  Io"IeacTr  him  the^saineTes¥on. 
Then  follows  an  epigrammatic  condemnation  of  the  mere 
animal  life — of  leading  which  Hamlet  could  not  justly  accuse 
himself.  He  puts  before  himself  the  two  alternatives  of 
"  bestial  oblivion  "  on  one  hand,  and  on  the  other — 

some  craven  scruple 

Of  thinking  top  precisely  on  the  event, — 
A  thought  which,  quarter'd,  hath  but  one  part  "wisdom 
And  ever  three  parts  coward,  — 

from  which  he  may  choose  the  cause  of  his  inaction.  There 
ia  a  wonderful  force  in  these  lines — 

I  do  not  know 

Why  yet  I  live  to  say  '  this  thing's  to  do,' 
Sith  I  have  cause,  and  will,  and  strength,  and  means, 
To  do't. 

There  is  a  relentless  insisture  in  his  enumeration  of  all  the 
requisites  and  advantages,  all  the  motives  and  the  materials, 
which  he  possessed  for  carrying  out  the  vengeance  enjoined 
him. 
Note  the  contrast  in  these  lines — 


Witness  this  army,  of  such  mass  and  charge , 
Led  by  a  delicate  and  tender  prince. 


Hamlet  pictures  Fortinbras  as  no  hardy  and  brawny  warrior, 
rude  of  speech  and  vigorous  of  frame,  but  as  "  a  delicate  and 
tender  prince,"  no  more  richly  gifted  with  the  physical 
qualities  which  generally  distinguish  bold  and  active  men 
than  himself.  So  far  as  their  forms,  their  nature,  their 
education,  are  concerned,  they  are  alike ;  but  in  their  deeds 
how  unlike  !  Hamlet  with  every  motive  that  can  urge  him 
to  swift  and  forcible  action,  his  father  murdered,  his  mother 
dishonoured,  with  the  sad  reproachful  face  of  that  father's 

F 


A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

spirit  still  stamped  upon  his  mind,  with  the  solemn  reproaches 
of  that  supernatural  visitation  still  sounding  in  his  ears, 
stands  weighing  with  scrupulous  exactness  every  possible 
consequence  of  that  which  is  to  be  done  at  once  and  yet 
remains  undone  ;  while  Fortinbras,  his 

spirit  with  divine  ambition  puff 'd, 
Makes  mouths  at  the  invisible  event, 

mockingly  defies  the  future;  exposing  life,  wealth,  honour, 
everything  that  when  exposed  to  clanger  is  most  perishable,  to 
the  powers  of  chance  and  death,  to  the  countless  perils  of  war  ; 
and  for  what  ? — 

Even  for  an  egg-shell. 

Here  is  the  same  thought  as  in  that  other  great  soliloquy  : 

/  What  would  he  do, 

/    Had  he  the  motive  and  the  cue  for  passion 
(/That  I  have? 

It  wasr  as  I  have  said,  onlya  simulated  emotion  which 
raicod  thftt-bitter  reflection  ;  nowtFlajreal,  -positive,  action. 

The  beautiful  lines  which  follow  are  Well  known ;  they 
ought  to  be  written  on  every  man's  heart,  for  they  are  the 
perfect  epitome  of  a  noble  nature  : 

Rightly  to  be  great 
Is  not  to  stir  without  great  argument, 
But  greatly  to  find  quarrel  in  a  straw 
When  honour's  at  the  stake. 

What  follows  has  already  entered  into  the  paraphrase  which 
I  have  rashly  attempted — for  volumes  of  words  could  not  ex- 
press more  clearly  or  more  forcibly  the  working  of  a  man's 
mind  than  these— but  it  is  worth  one's  while  to  observe  the 
intensity  of  these  lines  : 

while  to  my  shame  I  see 

The  imminent  death  of  twenty  thousand  men, 
That  for  a  fantasy  and  trick  of  fame 
Go  to  their  graves  like  beds. 

This  last  expression  is  beyond  all  praise  ;  and  the  amplifica- 
tion of  what  the  Captain  had  told  him  is  almost  equally  fine  : 

which  is  not  tomb  enough  and  continent 
To  hide  the  slain  ? 

There  is  in  this  speech,  as  it  were,  a  whirlwind  of  intellec- 
tual action  which  sweeps  one  along  with  it — intellectual  action 
I  have,  said,  for  what  is  the  resolution  with  which  Hamlet  con- 
cludes ? 

0,  from  this  time  forth, 
My  thoughts  be  bloody,  or  be  nothing  worth  ! 


A   STUDY   OF    HAMLET,  (Q 

Not  "  My  deeds  be  bloody,"  as  we  should  have  expected ;  just 
as  before,  in  the  soliloquy  already  quoted,  we  had  "  About  my 
brain!"  instead  of  "  About,  my  hands"  or  "arm!"*  In  fact 
Hamlet  is  so  completely  a  man  of  mind,  that  he  acts  only 
with  his  mind,  confusing  the  source  of  action  with  the  means 
of  executing  it.  The  first  "  bloody  thought"  which  he  carries 
out  is  the  putting  to  death  of  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern, 
and  this  he  procures  to  be  done  rather  than  does, 
We  might  have  expected  that,  on  discovering  the  nature  of 
the  royal  commission  of  which  they  were  the  bearers,  he 
would  have  denounced  their  treachery  before  the  crew  of  the 
ship,  and  have  killed  them  himself ;  but  this  was  far  too  simple 
a  course  for  Hamlet  to  pursue.  He  might  have,  not  without 
reason,  dreaded  the  interference  of  the  officers  and  men  on 
board  the  ship,  who  would  be  more  likely  to  side  with  Claudius 
than  with  Hamlet ;  but  such  a  direct  plan  of  action  probably 
never  even  occurred  to  him,  for  he  was  .fascinated  by  the 
ingenuity,  and  intellectual  vindictiveness,  of  the  device  which 
he  adopted.  But  upon  this  subject  I  have  already  remarked 
at  considerable  length.  I  have  only  reverted  to  it  here,  in 
order  to  show  how  the  aversion  of  Hamlet's  nature  to  direct 
and  plain  action  is  admirably  maintained  by  Shakespeare,  even 
when  he  seems  to  have  begun  to  act  and  ceased  to  reflect. 

For  a  time  we  leave  Hamlet,  embarked  on  a  dangerous 
journey,  surrounded  by  treachery,  from  which  chance,  more 
than  any  effort  of  his  own,  delivers  him,  and  brings  him  back 
again  to  Elsinore  at  a  most  critical  moment.  The  story  now 
follows  the  hapless  fate  of  Ophelia,  and  we  witness  the  first 
of  a  long  series  of  tragic  events  which  spring  from  the  violent 
death  of  Polonius. 


*  See  Garvlnus'  admirable  criticism  011  that  soliloquy  (at  end  of  Act  II.), 
in  which  he  enlarges  on  this  point  (vol.  ii.f  page  136,  Bunnett's  Authorised 
.Translation),  though,  as  I  have  observed  in  Appendix  E,  the  expression  is 
not  so  out  of  place  as,  at  first  sight,  it  seenjs. 


F  2 


PAET    IV. 


WE  may  take  the  interval,  which  elapses  between  the 
scene  we  are  now  considering  (Act  IV.,  Scene  5)  and  the  one 
before  it,  as  at  least  one  month,  and  probably  mor0. 

During  this  time  the  hurried  and  secret  funeral  of  Polonius 
had  taken  place  :  Hamlet  had  sailed  with  Rosencrantz  and  - 
Guildenstern  for  England;  Ophelia,  crushed  by  the  terrible 
blows,  coining  at  the  same  moment,  of  her  father's  sudden  and 
mysterious  death  and  her  lover's  equally  sudden  departure 
without  a  word  of  explanation,  had,  while  yet  her  mind 
remained  sufficiently  clear,  at  once  despatched  a  messenger 
to  her  brother  to  summon  him -from  France;  the  people^ 
meanwhile,  from  whom  the  tragic  end  of  Polonius  and  the 
virtual  banishment  of  Hamlet  could  not  long  be  concealed,- 
had  begun  to  murmur  strange  suspicions  and  to  lend  a  ready, 
ear  to  vague  and  disquieting  rumours  ;  this  uneasy  and  dis- 
contented frame  of  mind  was  aggravated  by  the  madness  of 
Ophelia,  and  fanned  into  open  revolt  by  the  arrival  of 
Laertes,  furious  with  rage,  and  crying  loud  for  vengeance 
against  those  who  were  responsible  for  his  father's  violent 
death  and  hasty,  disrespectful,  interment.  I  have  spoken  of 
the  first  part  of  this  scene  elsewhere,*  so  that  it  is  only 
necessary  to  notice  here — first,  how  the  Queen  seems  to  treat 
Horatio  with  more  respect  and  confidence,  because  she  has 
become  aware  with  how  much  trust  and  love  he  was  regarded 
by  Hamlet ;  next,  that  her  son's  reproaches  had  effectually 
awakened  her  conscience,  as  is  evident  from  the  words  that 
she  utters  to  herself— 

(Aside.)  To  my  sick  soul,  as  sin's  true  nature  is, 
Each  toy  seems  prologue  to  some  great  amiss  : 
So  full  of  artless  jealousy  is  guilt, 
It  spills  itself  in  fearing  to  be  spilt. 

*  See  Appendix  D. 


78  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

This  is  the  first  instance  of  self-reproach  that  we  find  in  her. 
Claudius  seems,  for  the  moment,  somewhat  humanised  by  the 
sorrows  that  have  come  so  thick  upon  both  of  them,  and 
shows  signs  of  tenderness  in  the  presence  of  the  wretched, 
distracted,  Ophelia.  But  there  is  no  sign  of  genuine  repentance. 
With  marvellously  placid  hypocrisy  he  speaks  of  Hamlet's  re- 
moval from  the  country  as  if  he  had  not  given  the  treacherous 
mandate  for  his  death ;  he  laments  his  short-sightedness  in 
yielding  to  the  first  impulse  of  fear  and  causing  the  body  of 
Polonius  to  be  interred  in  "hugger-mugger;"  but  he  does  not 
hint  at  the  real  cause  of  such  imprudent  haste,  namely,  the 
danger  that  any  inquiry  into  the  circumstances  of  the  old 
courtier's  death  might  lead  to  very  inconvenient  disclosures, 
and  might  betray  the  nature  of  the  mistake  through  which 
that  death  had  taken  place.  It  may  be  noted  here  that  Polo- 
nius would  seem  to  have  been  popular  :  for  the  people  resented 
his  "  obscure  funeral "  as  well  as  his  unexplained  death ; 
they  seem  to  have  felt  no  anger  against  Hamlet,  but  rather 
to  have  believed  that  Claudius,  for  his  own  ends,  had  got  rid 
of  the  minister  who  was  most  regarded  by  them,  and  to  whose 
hearty  support  it  was  very  probably  owing  that  the  succes- 
sion of  that  king  to  the  throne  had  been  so  little  disputed. 
The  last  words  of  this  speech  of  Claudius  — 

0  my  dear  Gertrude,  this, 
Like  to  a  murderiug-piece,  in  many  places 
Gives  me  superfluous  death — 

seem  to  indicate  that  he  is  nearly  breaking  down  under  the 
burden  of  his  guilt  and  its  consequences ;  but  the  entry  of 
one  of  the  attendants  of  the  Court,  with  the  news  of  the 
rebellion  in  favour  of  Laertes*  having  actually  broken  out, 
immediately  rouses  him  into  action,  and  calls  forth  that  dig- 
nity and  self-possession  which  it  is  evident  he  knew  well  how 
to  assume.  Gertrude  is  no  less  ready  in  throwing  off  her  dejec- 
tion, and  in  putting  on  that  calmnesss  and  courage  which 
become  a  Queen. 

Every  one  is  familiar  with  the  fine  lines,  in  which  the 
King  rebukes  Gertrude's  fear  for  his  personal  safety — 

Let  him  go,  Gertrude  ;  do  not  fear  our  person  : 
There's  such  divinity  doth  hedge  a  king, 
That  treason  can  but  peep  to  what  it  would, 
Acts  little  of  his  will. 

One  can  hardly  repress  a  smile  at  the  idea  of  any  divinity 
hedging  such  a  remarkably  valueless  piece  of  ground  (morally 

I    *  Additional  Notes,  No.  12.    ' 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  79 

speaking)  as  Claudius  was ;  but  there  is  no  denying  that  if 
the  respect  he  claimed  was  due  to  his  office  more  than  to 
himself,  he  acts  the  part  of  His  Majesty  to  perfection ;  and  no 
doubt,  on  the  score  of  morality,  he  was  not  very  far  behind 
many  of  his  royal  prototypes  in  History. 

From  the  questions,  which  Laertes  puts,  it  is  evident  he 
could  have  received  but  a  very  -confused  account  of  his 
father's  death,  while  he  would  seem  to  be  entirely  ignorant  of 
his  sister's  madness.  It  is  very  difficult  to  reconcile  this  with 
the  King's  words  in  his  speech — 

Her  brother  is  in  secret  come  from  France, 
Feeds  on  his  wonder,  keeps  himself  in  clouds, 
And  wants  not  buzzers  to  infect  his  ear 
With  pestilent  speeches  of  his  father's  death. 

Where  was  Laertes  when  these  buzzers  were  infecting  his 
ear  ?  How  long  had  he  been  in  Denmark  without  coming  to 
Elsinore  ?  I  am  afraid  we  must  leave  these  points  in  doubt, 
and  be  content  with  supposing  that  he  had,  for  his  own 
reasons,  kept  himself  in  concealment  at  some  distance  from 
Elsinore,  and  had  not  held  any  communication  with  Ophelia. 
It  may  be  that  on  his  arrival  in  Denmark  he  wrote  at  once 
to  her,  but  that  she  could  return  no  answer  to  his  letters 
owing  to  her  unhappy  state  of  mind. 

The  language  of  Laertes  is  more  passionate  than  dignified, 
and  Claudius  has  certainly  the  advantage  over  him  in  this 
respect. 

0  thou  vile  king, 
Give  me  niy  father  ! 

is  a  somewhat  abrupt  manner  of  addressing  one's  sovereign. 
But  Claudius  meets  him  with  such  self-possession  and  such 
well-acted  nobility  of  demeanour,  that  the  rage  of  Laertes  is 
soon  reduced  to  less  formidable  and  more  rational  dimensions^ 
But  first  he  has  his  say — 

How  came  he  dead  ?  I'll  not  be  juggled  with  : 
To  hell,  allegiance  !  vows,  to  the  blackest  devil  ! 
Conscience  and  grace,  to  the  profoundest  pit ! 
I  dare  damnation  :  to  this  point  I  stand, 
That  both  the  worlds  T  give  to  negligence, 
Let  come  what  comes  ;  only  I'll  be  revenged 
Most  throughly  for  my  father. 

These  be  "  brave  words  ;"  but  I  cannot  join  Gervinus  *  in  his 
panegyric  on  the  conduct  or  language  of  Laertes  ;  nor  can  I 
accept  such  violent  rant  as  the  equivalent  of  daring  action, 

S'ee  Authorised  Translation  (First  Edition,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  119-20)* 


80  A  STUDY  OF   HAMLET. 

It  seems  to  me  that  all  this  fine  talk  about  giving  "  both  the 
worlds  to  negligence,"  and  sending  "allegiance,  conscience,  &c., 
to  hell,"  only  ends  in  this  noble-minded  young  man  making 
himself  the  instrument  of  as  mean,  an  act  of  cowardly  assas- 
sination as  ever  was  planned  by  two  cut-throats.  It  is  a 
beautiful  touch,  on  the  part  of  Shakespeare,  that  the  dis- 
cussion between  Laertes  and  Claudius  should  be  interrupted 
by  the  entrance  of  Ophelia,  whose  pitiable  condition  not  only 
serves  to  rekindle  the  fury  of  Laertes,  but  calls  forth  from  him 
such  expressions  of  anguish,  and  creates  for  him  so  much  sym- 
pathy in  the  hearts  of  the  audience,  that  they  are  prepared  to 
look  on  him  with  so  favourable  an  eye,  as  to  be  somewhat 
blind  to  the  hideous  treachery  of  that  scheme  of  vengeance 
which  he  afterwards,  with  the  assistance  of  Claudius, 
contrives. 

The  exclamation  of  Laertes  when  Ophelia  quits  the  scene 
is,  indeed,  so  full  of  simple  pathos  that  our  sympathies, 
chilled,  if  not  alienated,  by  his  bombastic  language  on  his 
first  entry,  return  to  him — 

Do  you  sec  this,  0  God  ? 

Nothing  can  be  more  touching  than  this  cry  of  grief.  Laertes 
is  so  genuinely  affected  by  the  sight  of  his  sister's  madness 
that  his  passion  is  moderated  into  a  rational  anger ;  he 
listens  patiently  enough  to  the  King's  promise  to  explain  the 
circumstances  of  Polonius'  death,  and  accepts  his  well-timed 
offer  to  submit  the  question  of  his  share  in  it  to  the  arbi- 
tration of  Laertes'  own  friends.  The  language  of  Claudius  is 
singularly  judicious : 

Laertes,  I  must  commune  with  your  grief, 

Or  you  deny  me  right.     Co  but  apart, 

Make  choice  of  whom  your  wisest  friends  you  will, 

And  they  shall  hear  and  judge  'twixt  you  and  me  : 

If  by  direct  or  by  collateral  hand 

They  find  us  touch'd,  we  will  our  kingdom  give, 

Our  crown,  our  life,  and  all  that  we  call  ours, 

To  you  in  satisfaction  ;  but  if  not, 

Be  you  content  to  lend  your  patience  to  us, 

And  we  shall  jointly  labour  with  your  soul 

To  give  it  due  content. 

Laertes  could  not  but  be  impressed  by  such  well-assumed 
generosity;  his  answer  is  just  and  temperate— 

Let  this  be  so  5 

His  means  of  death,  his  obscure  funeral, 
No  trophy,  sword,  nor  hatchment  o'er  his  bones, 
No  noble  rite  nor  formal  ostentation, 
Cry  to  be  heard,  as  'twere  from  heaven  to  earth, 
That  I  must  call't  in  question. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  81 

The  omission  of  all  the  proper  ceremonies,  and  of  the  honours 
usually  paid  to  the  noble  dead,  evidently  had  much  to  do  with 
the  violent  indignation  of  Laertes.  His  pride  and  the  honour 
of  his  family  were  touched.  This  speech  is  one  of  the  addi- 
tions in  "the  true  and  perfect  coppie  "  of  1004? ;  in  the  earlier 
edition  Laertes'  speech  is  very  different — 

You  haue  preuail'd  my  Lord,  a  while  I'le  striue, 
To  bury  griefe  within  a  tombe  of  wrath, 
Which  once  vnhearsed,  then  the  world  shall  heare 
Leartes  had  a  father  he  held  deere. 

The  whole  scene  between  Claudius  and  Laertes  has  been 
much  elaborated  from  the  original  bald  sketch  found  in  the 
first  quarto.  Shakespeare  seems  to  have  spent  great  care  on 
the  character  of  the  latter  ;  and  the  mention  of  the  "  obscure 
funerals,"  &c.,  is  evidently  meant  to  impress  on  our  minds  how 
much  the  "  honour  "  of  Laertes  was  of  that  conventional  and 
fashionable  type,  which  suffers  more  from  the  neglect  of  that 
ceremony  demanded  by  etiquette  than  from  the  commission 
of  a  dishonourable  action — provided  it  is  not  likely  to  be 
found  out. 

While  Claudius  is  relating  to  Laertes  the  way  in  which 
Polonius  met  his  death,  the  stage  is  occupied  by  a  scene 
(Act  IV.,  Scene  6)  replacing  that  one  in  the  earlier  play, 
between  Horatio  and  the  Queen,  which  I  have  transcribed  in 
the  Appendix.*  Horatio  is  visited  by  some  sailors,  who  bring 
him  letters  from  Hamlet,  announcing  his  capture  by  the 
pirates,  &c.  There  are  two  or  three  points  to  notice  in  this 
scene.  Horatio  says  :— 

1  do  not  know  from  what  part  of  the  world 
1  should  be  greeted,  if  not  from  Lord  Hamlet. 

This  passage  seems  to  imply,  what  the  rest  of  the  play  con- 
firms, that  Horatio's  was  a  singularly  lonely  position.  Who 
or  what  he  was  we  can  only  conjecture :  all  we  know  is 
that  he  was  a  fellow-student  of  Hamlet's,  but  of  what  rank  in 
life  we  are  not  told.f  His  fortune,  we  know  from  Samlet's 
own  words,  was  very  small— 

For  what  advancement  may  I  hope  from  thee, 
That  no  revenue  hast  but  thy  good  spirits, 
To  feed  and  clothe  thee  ?  £ 

and  it  would  seem  that  he  was  equally  poor  in  friends,  since 
he  knew  of  no  one  who  was  likely  to  send  any  letter  to  him 

*  See  Appendix  M. 

t  See  Additional  Note,  No.  13, 

j  Act  III.,  Scene  2,  lines  52-54. 


82  A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

but  Hamlet.  This  very  loneliness  was  probably  one  of  the 
causes  which  first  drew  the  young  prince  towards  Horatio. 

Another  point  in  this  scene  worth  noticing  is  that  the 
sailor  who  delivers  the  letters  alludes  to  Hamlet  as 

The  ambassador  that  was  bound  for  England  ; 

which  shows  that  Hamlet  had  preserved  his  incognito  to  all 
but  the  chiefs  of  the  pirates,  perhaps  even  to  them  ;  though 
he  must  have  told  them  he  was  a  person  of  great  influence 
at  Court,  as  they  treated  him  well  because  he  was  "  to  do  a 
good  turn  for  them."  It  is  not  difficult  to  believe  that 
Hamlet  fraternised  with  these  rough  sailors  just  as  he  did 
with  the  actors,  and  probably  enjoyed  his  stay  among  them 
well  enough. 

Horatio  loses  no  time  in  setting  out  with  the  sailors  to  join 
Hamlet,  whereby  he  would  be  prevented  from  hearing  of 
Ophelia's  death  till,  in  company  with  his  friend,  he  witnesses 
the  "  maimed  rites  "  of  her  burial. 

In  the  next  scene  (Act  IV.,  Scene  7)  we  find  that  the  King 
has  completely  satisfied  Laertes  not  only  that  he  was  innocent 
of  Polonius'  death,  but  that  he  stood  in  great  danger  himself 
from  the  violence  of  Hamlet.  "What  was  the  exact  account 
which  Claudius  gave  of  the  affair  we  do  not  know ;  but  pro- 
bably he  contented  himself  with  very  much  the  same  account 
as  that  given  by  the  Queen  (Act  IV.,  Scene  1,  lines  8-12) : 

in  his  lawless  fit, 

Behind  the  arras  hearing  something  stir, 
Whips  out  his  rapier,  cries  '  a  rat,  a  rat  ! ' 
And  in  this  brainish  apprehension  kills 
The  unseen  good  old  man. 

It  will  be  "remembered  that  then  he  expressed  his  fears  for 
his  own  life, 

It  had  been  so  with  us,  had  we  been  there  : 

but  the  story  is  incomplete  in  one  very  important  point — 
Claudius,  naturally,  withholds  Hamlet's  reason  for  seeking 
his  life  from  Laertes — an  omission  which  makes  him  ask 
with  much  reason : 

but  tell  me 

Why  you  proceeded  not  against  these  feats, 
So  cnmeful  and  so  capital  in  nature, 
As  by  your  safety,  wisdom,  all  things  else, 
You  mainly  were  stirr  'd  up. 

The  King's  answer  is  plausible  enough ;  his  devotion  to  the 
Queen  made  him  unwilling  to  punish  the  son  whom  she 
loved  so  much,  and  Hamlet's  popularity  was  so  great  that 


A  STUDY  OF   HAMLET.  83 

any  public  proceedings  against  him  would  have  been  likely 
to  have  led  to  a  revolution.  Laertes  is  obliged  to  accept  this 
explanation ;  "  but,"  he  adds, 

my  revenge  will  come. 

KING.  Break  not  your  sleeps  for  that ;  you  must  not  think 
That  we  are  made  of  stuff  so  flat  and  dull 
That  we  can  let  our  beard  be  shook  with  danger 
And  think  it  pastime.     You  shortly  shall  hear  more  : 
I  loved  your  father,  and  we  love  ourself  ; 
And  that,  I  hope,  will  teach  you  to  imagine — 

ft  is  evident  that  Claudius  refers  to  the  letter  he  had  sent/ 
by  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  to  England  ordering  the 
instant  execution  of  Hamlet;  indeed,  he  probably  would 
have  given  Laertes  a  very  broad  hint  as  to  what  was  the 
revenge  he  might  speedily  expect,  had  he  not  been  interrupted 
by  the  entry  of  the  messenger  bringing  letters  from  Hamlet 
himself,  announcing  his  "  sudden  and  more  strange  return." 
One  is  rather  apt  to  overlook  the  dramatic  nature  of  this 
situation  (to  use  a  technical  term)  when  one  finds  fault  with 
the  construction  of  the  last  two  acts  of  this  play.  A  more 
complete  surprise,  as  far  as  Clauclms  was  concerned,  could 
scarcely  have  been  devised,  or  one  which  more  thoroughly 
defeated  all  his  plans. 

That  Claudius  is  thoroughly  puzzled  at  the  strange  turn  of 
events,  and  that,  at  first,  he  is  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  his 
words  show.  He  even  appeals  to  Laertes  for  advice — 

Can  you  advise  me  ? 

and  his  next  speech  is,  as  it  stands  in  the  text,  hopelessly 
obscure;*  though  it  is  clear  enough  that  he  is  unable  to 
account  •  satisfactorily  to  himself  for  this  sudden  return  of 
Hamlet,  and  that  his  mind  is  harassed  by  the  possible  dangers 
to  himself  that  such  a  return  suggests.  Laertes,  on  the  con* 
trary,  rejoices  at  the  idea  of  meeting  Hamlet — 

It  warms  the  very  sickness  in  my  heart, 
That  I  shall  live  and  tell  him  to  his  teeth, 
'Thusdidestthou.'f 

He  has  the  advantage  over  the  King  of  being  single-minded 
in  his  purpose  ;  he  needs  no  tortuous  means  to  his  end,  though, 
ultimately,  he  weakly  consents  to  use  such.  It  would  have 

*  See  Additional  Note,  No.  1-1. 

t  The  Quarto  1603  reads— 

That  I  shall  liue  to  tell  him,  thus  he  dies, 

which  suggests  that  we  might  read  here  "  Thus  diest  thou ;"  but  all  the  other 
quartos  and  folios  concur  in  reading  * '  didst "  and  "  diddest." 


84  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

been  well  for  his  own  honour  had  he  adhered  to  the  frank 
declaration  of  vengeance  which  he  here  makes,  had  he 
reproached  Hamlet  to  his  face,  and  openly  challenged  him 
to  fight. 

But  to  the  wily  mind  of  Claudius  any  straightforward 
revenge,  such  as  could  be  obtained  by  a  fair  fight  between 
Laertes  and  Hamlet,  was  utterly  distasteful ;  besides,  such  a 
revenge  would  be  at  best  uncertain,  and  might  fail  in  the 
end  to  rid  him  of  his  hated  nephew.  Once  embarked  upon 
the  ocean  of  crime,  one  must  sail  on  through  all  the  rocks 
and  quicksands ;  a  straight  course  is  impossible.  Already 
in  his  fertile  brain  and  treacherous  heart  a  scheme  of 
cruel  and  underhand  vengeance .  is  being  planned  ;  his  only 
doubt  is  whether  this  generous,  and  seemingly  noble-minded, 
youth  will  consent  to  be  his  instrument  in  carrying  it  out. 
So  much  more  tractable  is  Laertes  now  than  when,  but  a 
little  while  since,  he  rudely  burst  in  upon  the  royal  presence 
at  the  head  of  a  riotous  mob,  that  he  consents  to  be  ruled 
by  the  King  so  long  as  he  does  not  "  overrule  "  him  "  to  a 
peace."  The  scheme,  which  in  so  short  a  time  has  grown 
"  ripe  "  in  the  ft  device  "  of  Claudius,  answers  every  end  re- 
quired— it  is  sure,  it  is  safe,  involving  no  clanger  or  blame 
to  those  who  execute  it  : 

But  even  his  mother  shall  uncharge  the  practice, 
And  call  it  accident. 

Laertes  gives  the  other  his  cue  when  he  says — 

My  lord,  I  will  be  ruled  ; 
The  rather,  if  you  could  devise  it  so 
That  I  might  be  the  organ. 
KINO,  It  falls  right. 

You  have  been  talk'd  of  since  your  travel  much, 
And  that  in  Hamlet's  hearing,  for  a  quality 
Wherein,  they  say,  you  shine  :  your  sum  of  parts, 
Did  not  together  pluck  such  envy  from  him, 
As  did  that  one>  and  that  in  my  regard 
Of  the  unworthiest  siege. 

Observe  the  cunning  with  which  Claudius  manages  bis 
flattery  ;  Laertes  has  so  many  good  qualities,  and  of  these 
the  "  least  worthy,"  according  to  this  good  King's  thinking, 
has  excited  Hamlet's  envy;  but  this  quality  is  depreciated  by 
the  artful  tempter  only  to  be  extolled  the  next  moment  as 

A  very  riband  in  the  cap  of  youth, 

then,  after  tantalising  him  with  some  laboured  and  senten- 
tious phrases,  he  lets  him  know  that  this  high  report  of  his 
qualites  comes  from  one,  .himself  a  pattern  of  manly  skill 


A   STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  85 

and  courage,  for  whose  opinion,  as  Claudius  probably 
knew,  Laertes  had  the  utmost  respect,  and  to  be  praised  by 
whom  was  alone  enough  to  excite  his  vanity  in  the  highest 
degree.  At  last  it  turns  out  that  the  quality,  so  especially 
praised  by  this  great  authority,  wras  skill  at  fencing ;  the  very 
art  in  which  Hamlet  and  Laertes  had  doubtless,  in  their  early 
youth,  been  friendly  but  keen  rivals.  The  feverish  anxiety 
of  the  former  to  meet  again  his  old  antagonist,  of  whose 
praises  he  is  madly  jealous,  is  dwelt  upon ;  and  then  says  the 
tempter — 

Now,  out  of  this— 
LAER.  What  out  of  this,  my  lord  ? 

He  has  not  discovered  yet  to  what  all  this  is  leading.  Clau- 
dius having  sufficiently  aroused  his  vanity,  now  proceeds  to 
kindle  his  auger : 

KING.  Laertes,  was  your  father  dear  to  you  ? 

Or  are  you  like  the  painting  of  a  sorrow, 

A  face  without  a  heart  ? 
LAEK.  Why  ask  you  this  ? 

The  simpler  nature  of  the  youth  is  becoming  slightly  im- 
patient at  the  elder's  prolixity  ;  still  the  latter  persists  in 
trying  his  patience.  It  is  not  till  after  another  long  discur- 
sion  that  he  comes  to  the  point : 

But,  to  the  quick  o'  the  ulcer  : 
Hamlet  comes  back  :  what  would  you  undertake, 
To  show  yourself  your  father's  son  in  deed 
More  than  in  words  ? 

Laertes'  answer  is  brief,  but  there  is  no  mistaking  its  ear- 
nestness— • 

To  cut  his  throat  i'  the  church. 

The  tempter's  object  is  gained ;  the  young  man's  passion, 
aggravated  by  the  trial  his  patience  has  had  to  endure,  is  now 
at  such  a  height  that  his  reason,  and  sense  of  honour,  will 
not  be  heard  if  they  protest  against  the  treacherous  proposal 
which  is  now  to  be  made  to  him. 

The  only  fear,  which  Claudius  now  feels,  is  that  his  eager- 
ness for  action  should  betray  Laertes  into  some  hasty  step  ; 
for  the  challenge  must  be  made  to  come  from  Hamlet,  and 
the  other  must  keep  close  within  his  chamber. 

This  scheme  of  Claudius  is  not  so  elaborate  as  we  might 
have  expected  after  such  a  long  preamble;  perhaps  he 
purposely  moderates  its  atrocity,  being  not  quite  sure  how 
far  he  might  go.  He  u  soon  reassured  as  to  any  doubts  he 


.Si)  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLKT. 

might  have  felt  regarding  the  willingness  of  such  a  pattern 
of  chivalry,  as  Laertes,  to  stoop  to  any  treachery ;  for  to  the 
tempter's  comparatively  simple  plan  of  using  an  "  unbated  " 
foil,  the  tempted  adds  the  complex  villany  of  anointing  its 
point  with  a  poison  so  deadly  that  the  slightest  scratch  from 
it  would  be  fatal. 

It  is  now  the  game  of  Claudius  to  check  the  vindictive 
ardour  of  Laertes ;  at  the  same  time  he  feels  he  may  go  to 
any  length  in  atrocity.  This  notable  device  may  fail,  may 
be  detected  ;  so  to  make  doubly  sure,  if  Hamlet  escapes  the 
envenomed  rapier,  there  shall  be  a  poisoned  cup,  prepared  in 
all  loving  amity,  for  his  refreshment.  These  two  worthy 
characters  having  thus  brought  their  plots  to  perfection,  they 
are  interrupted  in  their  further  communing  by  the  entrance 
of  the  Queen,  with  the  news  of  Ophelia's  death — news  which 
seems  to  keep  Laertes  from  reflecting  on  the  baseness  of  the 
crime  which  he  has  just  promised  to  execute  ;  fanning,  at  the 
same  time,  his  just  wrath  against  the  man  whom  he  supposes 
to  be  the  murderer  of  his  father,  and  the  indirect  cause  of  his 
sister's  death.  Claudius  expresses  his  hypocritical  fear  that 
the  rage  which  he  had  calmed  may  now  start  forth  again  ; 
what  he  really  feared  was,  lest  this  new  aggravation  of  his 
suffering  might  not  render  Laertes  incapable  of  the  coolness, 
and  patience,  necessary  for  the  success  of  their  scheme. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  at  length  upon  this  scene  both  because 
it  is  of  the  greatest  importance  to  follow  it  carefully  before 
attempting  to  form  any  judgment  of  the  character  ^i^JLaertes, 
and  because  I  believe  it  to  be  one  of  the  most  carefully 
elaborated  scenes,  as  far  as  Shakespeare  is  concerned,  in  the 
whole  play.  The  bare  skeleton  of  it  in  the  Quarto  1603  shows 
us  what  great  pains  he  has  taken  in  the  revision  of  it ;  and 
there  is  one  important  alteration  which  I  cannot  but  think 
shows,  more  than  anything  else,  what  judgment  Shakespeare 
intended  us  to  form  of  Laertes.  In  the  older  version  the 
King  makes  his  proposal  thus  : 

When  you  are  hot  in  midst  of  all  your  play, 
Among  the  foyles  shall  a  keene  rapier  lie, 
Steeped  in  a  mixture  of  deadly  poyson, 
That  if  it  drawes  but  the  least  dramme  of  blood, 
In  any  part  of  him,  he  cannot  Hue  ; 

so  that  the  idea  of  the  poison  does  not  come  from  Laertes,  a 
circumstance  which  lessens  his  guilt  in  no  little  degree. 

As  a  psychological  study,  I  think  this  scene,  as  it  now 
stands,  one  of  Shakespeare's  greatest  efforts.  The  contrast 
between  the  two  natures  is  admirable.  On  the  one  side  we 


//  \\ 

A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  87 

have  th§  older  and  hardened  criminal,  an  adept  at  treachery, 
and  incapable  of  denying  himself  the  pleasure  of  doling  out 
his  stores  of  iniquity  slowly,  and  with  subtle  relish  of  their 
super-excellent  quality  ;  so  enamoured  of  hypocrisy  that  he 
must  smother  every  word  of  his  murderous  proposal  with  a 
pile  of  moral  platitudes  ;  so  inured  to  juggling  with  his  con- 
science that  it  comes  natural  to  him  to  regale  the  youth, 
whom  he  is  inviting  to  a  vile  crime,  with  unctuous  lectures 
on  the  heavenly  nature  of  filial  love,  and  of  "  goodness  "  in 
general.  Opposed  to  this  highly  polished  gem  of  villany,  we 
have  the  passionate,  violent,  unreflecting  youth,  full  of  genet 
rous  impulses  and  high  courage ;  naturally  averse  to  any  but 
the  directest  road  to  whatever  might  be  his  object ;  ready  to 
"  cut  his  enemy's  throat  in  the  church"  without  a  thought  of 
the  consequences ;  who  would  have  fought  by  the  hour,  am 
as  long  as  he  could  hold  a  sword,  if  anyone  had  dared  to 
call  him  a  coward ;  and  yet  was  so  devoid  of  any  true  am 
stable  principle  of  courage  or  honour,  that  he  could  listen  to 
a  proposal  to  stab  an  unarmed  man  under  cover  of  a  friendly 
trial  of  skill,  and  could  aggravate  such  a  proposal  by  the 
addition  of  a  subtle  and  deadly  poison  to  the  weapon  of 
assassination^  This  contest,  so  skilfully  preserved  in  all  the 
finest  details,  ceasing  only  when,  in  accordance  with  the  great 
moral  truth  which  the  poet  is  instilling,  their  perfect  resem- 
blance is  shown  in  their  common  want  of  that  vigilant  ai 
incorruptible  virtue  which  is  the  result  of  fixed  and  un- 
alterable principles,  and  alone  can  preserve  us  from  crime — - 
such  a  study  of  character  shows  the  hand  of  a  master  who 
kuew  human  nature,  not  by  the  reading  of  books,  but  by  the 
observation  of  mankind,  less  from  laboured  research  than 
from  that  instinctive  knowledge  which  is  only  given  to  the 
few  who  are  born  to  the  imperishable  heritage  of  genius. 

The  character  of  Laertes  is  one  of  which  we  are  tempted  s 
to  form  a  higher  opinion  than,  on  close  examination,  it  will 
be  seen  to  deserve ;  because  we  cannot  help  sympathising  / 
with  him  under  the  terrible  calamities  which  befall  his  father 
and   sister.      A   writer,  quoted  in  Malone's  "  Shakespeare," 
remarks  very  justly : — 

"  Laertes'  character  is  a  very  odd  one  ;  it  is  not  easy  to  say  whether  it  is 
good  or  bad  :  but  his  consenting  to  the  villanous  contrivance  of  the 
usurper's  to  murder  Hamlet  makes  him  much  more  a  bad  man  than  a  good 
one."— Ed.  1821,  vol.  vii.,  page  522. 

Gervimis*  seems  to  me  to  take  far  too  favourable  a  view 

*  Burnett's  Authorised  Translation,  First  Edition.  1863,  vol.  ii.,  pages 
118-120  and  123. 


88  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

of  this  "  subordinate  hero's  "  character.  I  have  already  (in 
Appendix  D)  explained  the  light  in  which,  as  it  appears  to 
me,  we  ought  to  regard  his  conduct  towards  Ophelia  in  the 
earlier  scenes  of  the  play  ;  it  only  remains  to  consider  what 
proportion  of  guilt  we  must  assign  to  him  in  this  plot  against 
Hamlet's  life,  to  which  he  so  readily  lends  his  aid. 

We  must  remember  that  the  relations  between  the  young 
prince  and  Laertes  had  been  very  intimate  from  their  earliest 
childhood.  Hamlet  says  in  the  midst  of  his  rage— 

What  is  the  reason  that  you  use  me  thus  ? 
I  loved  you  ever  : 

—Act  V.,  Scene  ],  lines  277-278. 

And  again,  when  he  is  begging  pardon  of  Laertes  for  his 
violent  conduct — 

Let  my  disclaiming  from  a  purposed  evil 
Free  me  so  far  in  your  most  generous  thoughts, 
That  I  have  shot  mine  arrow  o'er  the  house, 
And  hurt  my  brother. 

—Act  V.,  Scene  2,  lines  228-231. 

But  it  was  not  only  against  the  friend,  but  the  prince,  that 
Laertes  consents  to  practise  such  perfidious  treason.  It  is 
evident  that,  whatever  might  be  the  feeling  of  the  rest  of  the 
Court,  Laertes  thoroughly  believed  Hamlet  to  be  the  lieir- 
apparent  to  the  throne.  In  warning  Ophelia  against  setting 
her  affections  on  Hamlet,  he  says—- 
but you  must  fear, 

His  greatness  weigh'd,  his  will  is  not  his  own  ; 
For  he  himself  is  subject  to  his  birth  : 
He  may  not,  as  unvalued  persons  do, 
Carve  for  himself,  for  on  his  choice  depends 
The  safety  and  health  of  this  whole  state, 
And  therefore  must  his  choice  be  circumscribed 
Unto  the  voice  and  yielding  of  that  body 
Whereof  he  is  the  head.     Then  if  he  says  he  loves  you, 
It  fits  your  wisdom  so  far  to  believe  it 
As  he  in  his  particular  act  and  place 
May  give  his  saying  deed  ;  which  is  no  further 
Than  the  main  voice  of  Denmark  goes  withal. 

—Act  I.,  Scene  3,  lines  16-28. 

Such  language  could  be  used  only  of  one  who  was  recog- 
nised— by  the  speaker  at  least — as  occupying  that  high 
position  in  the  State,  second  only  to  the  Sovereign,  which 
belongs  to  a  Crown  Prince,  to  whom  the  duty  of  every  loyal 
knight  and  gentleman  was  to  render  the  utmost  respect  and 
honour.  To  assassinate  Hamlet  was,  on  the  part  of  Laertes, 
an  act  of  high  treason,  as  well  as  of  private  treachery. 

And  what  was  the  character  of  him  against  whose  life  lie 
was  plotting  ?  Claudius,  in  proposing  the  crime,  is  forced  to 


A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET.  89 

pay  a  tribute  to  the  noble,  frank,  and  unsuspicious  nature 
of  his  nephew : 

he,  being  remiss, 

Most  generous  and  free  from  all  contriving, 
Will  not  peruse  the  foils.         [Act  IV.,  Scene  7,  lines  135-137. 

Surely,  had  Laertes  possessed  one  spark  of  true  chivalry^ 
these  words  would  have  made  him  pause  :  he  would,  even  in  / 
the  midst  of  his  natural  rage  and  furious  desire  to  avenge  his  ( 
father's  death,  have  exclaimed,  from  an  irresistible  impulse  1 
of  honour,  "JSTo!  I  cannot  pursue   any  but  an   open   and( 
manly  vengeance  against  such  a  foe  :  I  cannot  degrade  myself  \ 
by  stooping  to  artifice  against  one  whose  generous  nature  ) 
renders  such  artifice  the  most  cowardly  treachery."     The  real' 
character  of  Hamlet  must  have  been  known  to  the  brother  of 
Ophelia  ;  he  must  have  seen  enough  of  the  young  prince  to 
feel  sure,  that  if  he  went  boldly  to  him  and  demanded  of  him 
an  account  of  his  conduct,  he  would  have  at  least  as  good  a 
chance  of  arriving  at  the  truth,  as  he  had  by  taking  counsel 
with  one  whose  only  idea  of  vengeance  was  a  mean  arid 
dastardly  assassination. 

Base  enough  was  the  plan  of  revenge  as  Claudius  proposes 
it ;  but  unspeakably  baser  was  the  embellishment  which 
ingenuity  of  this  chivalrous  young  man  added  to  it.  Lae 
agrees  to  entrap  the  friend  of  his  youth,  his  generous  rival  in 
many  an  honourable  contest,  into  a  challenge  at  their 
favourite  game  of  skill.  In  this  game  he  is  to  have  the 
advantage  of  a  real  weapon  instead  of  a  sham  one  ;  and,  as 
if  this  were  not  enough,  he  is  to  call  to  his  aid  that  most 
cowardly  weapon — even  of  murderers — poison.  Should  his 
antagonist,  by  any  chance,  escape  this  twofold  danger,  under 
the  pretence  of  a  refreshing  draught  he  is  to  be  disposed  of 
by  another  and  more  potent  poison.  In  this  precious  scheme 
of  manly  vengeance  the  daring  young  warrior  perseveres, 
even  after  his  antagonist  has  apologised  most  humbly  for  what 
offence  he  is  conscious  of  having  committed,  and  has  shown 
clearly  enough  that  he  could,  if  called  upon,  explain  the 
unhappy  death  of  Laertes'  father  ;*  but  it  never  occurs  to 
this  pattern  knight  that  he  might  have  paused,  even  at  that 
point,  and  in  a  private  conference  with  Hamlet  have  learnt 
the  truth  of  what,  to  the  most  inflamed  mind,  could  not  but 
have  seemed  something  of  a  mystery.  No,  l^Lgoes  on  with 
his  foul  task,  and,  in  spite  of  such  scruples\j^as  even  the 

*  See  Act  V.,  Scene  2,  lines  215-231. 
t  See  Act  V.,  Scene^lines  282-283  :— 

LAER.  MyTord,  m  hit  him  now. 

KING.  I  do  not  think  't. 

LAEB.  (aside).  And  yet  it  is  almost  against  my  conscience. 

G 


90  A   STUDY  OF   HAMLET. 

most  hardened  criminal  must  have  felt,  he  stabs  the  unsus- 
pecting Hamlet  with  the  envenomed  point.  At  the  last,  it  is 
true,  he  repents;  or  rather,  he  expresses  remorse;  though  even 
then  he  puts  more  of  the  blame  than  was  just  on  Claudius. 
His  last  words  are  his  best : — 

Exchange  forgiveness  with  me,  noble  Hamlet  : 
Thine  and  my  father's  death  come  not  upon  thee, 
Nor  thine  on  me  ! 

—Act  V.,  Scene  2,  lines  316-318. 

It  is  of  this  cowardly  assassin  that  Gervinus  thus  writes*:— 

44 Laertes  goes  so  far  as  to  poison  his  sword,  that  in  single  combat  (!)  with 
Hamlet  he  may  more  surely  obtain  his  end.  He  sullies  by  this  his  knightly 
honour,  although  he  treats  his  revenge  rather  as  a  matter  of  honour,  while, 
for  Hamlet  it  is  a  heavy  matter  of  conscience.  But  in  the  midst  of  this 
passion,  strained  even  to  unscrupulousness,  he  is  strictly  confined  to  the  one 
object  of  his  revenge,  whilst  by  Hamlet's  loitering  steps  the  guiltless ,. 
Polonius  falls,  Ophelia  becomes  crazed,  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  are 
made  a  sacrifice,  and  himself  and  his  mother  perish. " — (Authorised  Trans* 
lation,  1st  ed.,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  119-120.) 

This  is  but  one  fragment  of  the  indirect  panegyric  which 
this  great  German  critic  pronounces  on  Laertes  :  one  would 
certainly  think  that  the  passage  was  prophetic,!  and  intended 
to  glorify  the  great  man  who  has  subdued  German  culture 
beneath  his  iron  iiile.  A  "  combat "  (according  to  Gervinus) 
is  a  fencing-bout  between  one  man  armed  with  a  foil  and  the 
other  with  a  sharp  rapier  !  To  use  an  "  unbated  "  weapon  in 
such  a  trial  of  skill,  having  previously  anointed  that  weapon 
with  a  deadly  poison,  is  merely  to  ""  sully  your  knightly 
honour  !  "  I  hope  those  Danes  who  are  at  present  rejoicing 
under  the  amenities  of  the  German  rule  will  read  this  pas- 
sage for  their  edification  ;  it  may  perhaps  reconcile  them  to 
that  conscientious  but  slightly  unscrupulous  system  of  pro- 
cedure, which  they  may  have  been  tempted  to  characterise  as 
callous  perfidy  and  mean  brutality. 

Amazing,  indeed,  is  the  moral  obliquity  which  can  permit 
a  great  and  learned  man  to  be  fascinated,  by  the  superficial 
energy  of  such  a  character  as  Laertes,  .into  glossing  over  the 
most  detestable  crimes  with  hearty  approbation  masquing 
under  the  guise  of  feeble  censure.  Gervinus  wrote  in  1850, 
and  we  are  now  in  1875  ;  those  of  us  who  are  not  blinded  by 
bigotry,  or  muzzled  by  time-serving  cowardice,  have  been  able 
to  recognise,  in  the  grand  spectacle  of  an  united  Germany 

*  The  italics  are  mine. 

t  Gervinus's  Lectures  were  first  published  in  1850. 


4  STUDY  OF  HAMLET/,  91 

extinguished  under  a  Prussian  helmet,  the  same  moral 
obliquity  which  dictated  such  a  passage  as  that  I  have 
quoted.  The  "  dreamers  "  have  become  the  "  men  of  action," 
and  they  are  now  as  strong  as  any  nation  can  be,  of  whose, 
armour  the  chains  of  tyranny  furnish  no  little  part ;  let  them 
rejoice  while  they  may ;  let  them  exalt  bloodshed  above 
courage,  and  grasping  avarice  above  honest  industry ;  let 
them  miscall  the  meanest  and  cruellest  *  system  of  reli- 
gious persecution  ever  undertaken,  even  by  the  most  ignorant 
barbarians,  a  struggle  for  civil  liberty ;  let  them  continue, 
conscious  of  their  own  strength  in  a  monstrousl^  over- 
grown army,  which  drains  the  life-blood  of  the  country, 
to  defy  treaties  and  violate  their  plighted  word  as  a  nation  : 
now  is  their  brief  day  of  triumph ; — but  the  time  will  come 
when  they  will  awake  too  late  to  a  sense  of  their  own  degra- 
dation, when  they  will  find  that,  in  fighting  against  a 
phantom  of  religious  tyranny,  they  have  flung  away  the  safe- 
guards of  civil  liberty  and  given  themselves  over,  bound  hand 
and  foot,  into  the  power  of  a  monster  of  political  tyranny ; 
when,  perchance,  the  cry  of  "This  is  I,  Hamlet  the  Pane!" 
may  ring  through  Germany  with  a  somewhat  different  echo 
than  when  it  could  only  speak,  to  the  nation's  conscience, 
of  the  dangerous  similarity  of  their  own  character  to  the 
over-reflective  and  too  scrupulous  young  prince,  ever  prone 
to  speculation  and  averse  to  action  ;  f  when  there  may  be  no 
Laertes  and  Claudius  at  hand  to  concoct  the  treacherous 
assassination  of  the  unwelcome  intruder ;  and  when  the 
spectre  of  a  national  crime,  which  bayonets  could  not  bury 
for  ever,  shall  rise  from  the  grave  to  demand,  it  may  be  to 
exact,  a  just  vengeance. 

The  fifth  act  commences  with  the  well-known  scene  be- 
tween the  two  "  Clowns,"  or  "  Grave-diggers."  This  scene 
has  been  much  censured  by  some  critics,  on  the  ground  that 
its  broad  humour  is  out  of  place  in  a  tragic  work.  But  here 
is  the  very  excellence  of  Shakespeare's  genius — that  he  does 
not  shrink  from  mingling  the  humorous  with  the  pathetic ;  in 
fact,  he  does  not  shrink  from  portraying  human  life  as  it 
really  is.J  He  knew  mankind  in  general  as  well  as  he  knew 
that  portion  of  it  which  forms  the  audience  of  a  theatre  ; 

*  Most  cruel,  because  the  Gerinaa  persecution  is  directed  against  the 
soul,  and  not  the  body.  A  true  Catholic  would  rather  perish  at  the  stake 
than  live,  as  he  is  compelled  to  live  in  most  parts  of  the  German  Empire, 
without  the  Sacraments. 

t  See  Gervinus's  eloquent  parallel  between  Hamlet  and  the  German 
nation. — (Authorised  Translation,  1st  edition,  vol.  ii,,  pp.  145-149.) 

$  See  above,  Part  II.,  page  41. 

G2 


92  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET, 

he  knew  that  if  his  plays  were  to  attract  spectators  they 
must  be  varied,  and  not  monotonous  :  we  may  admire  such 
tragedies  as  Voltaire's  in  the  closet,  but  on  the  stage  they 
crush  us  under  their  massive  weight  of  lugubriousness.  But 
this  system  of  brightening  up  tragedy,  by  an  infusion  of  the 
comic  element,  is  contrary  to  all  canons  of  foreign  criticism. 
Any  one  who  has  seen  "  Hamlet "  played  on  the  Italian  stage 
will  have  observed  the  preternatural  gravity  of  Polonius,  for 
instance,  and  generally  how  careful  all  the  actors  were,  includ- 
ing even  Hamlet  himself,  to  divest  the  play  as  much  as 
possible  of  any  taint  of  humour.  In  this  very  scene  we  are 
now  considering,  when  I  saw  it  played  at  Naples,  there  was 
only  one  grave-digger  (he  was  necessary  for  Hamlet),  and  he 
sang  quite  a  pretty  little  song  in  place  of  the  humorous 
ballad  of  which  "The  First  Clown"  in  Shakespeare  gives  us 
such  an  odd  version. 

Who  that  has  seen  the  tragedy  of  Hamlet  represented, 
whether  well  or  ill,  has  not  felt  that  this  scene  comes  as  a 
welcome  relief,  just  at  that  point  when  the  strain  which  has 
been  put  upon  -OJir  sadder -and  more  .pathetic  feelings  has 
been  greater  than  we  well  could  bear.  The  madness  and 
death  "of  Ophelia,  the  revolting  treachery  of  Claudius,  the 
miserable  weakness  of  Laertes,  have  plunged  us  into  a  state 
of  mind  which  is  likely  to  render  us  impatient  of  anything 
but  the  briefest  termination  of  the  story,  unless  it  be  relieved 
by  some  gleam  of  cheerfulness.  We  are  invited  by  the  author 
to  assist  at  the  making  of  the  grave  which  is  to  receive  the 
pure  body  of  Ophelia  :  an  ordinary  dramatist  would  treat  us 
to  nothing  more  refreshing  than  a  series  of  dreary  and  solemn 
platitudes  on  death  ;  but  Shakespeare  extorts  from  us  invo- 
luntary smiles  at  the  humours  of  two  simple  clowns,  who  are 
portrayed,  not  as  unnatural  vehicles  of  dismal  santiments, 
but  as  natural  sources  of  genuine  amusement.  They  go  to 
their  work  with  just  as  much  sense  of  its  solemn  import  as 
such  men  would,  in  real  life,  feel ;  they  bandy  grim  jests,  and 
the  one  who,  by  virtue  of  being  less  ignorant  than  his 
assistant,  is  able  to  assume  all  the  superiority  of  learning, 
tickles  our  sense  of  humour  by  his  absurd  and  unconscious 
blunders  no  less  than  by  his  placid  self-conceit.  This 
Clown  belongs  to  the  same  class  of  characters  as  Bottom 
and  Dogberry ;  men  who,  having  picked  up  some  scraps  of 
learning  and  long  words,  of  which  they  know  neither  the 
proper  use  nor  meaning,  so  thoroughly  believe  in  their  own 
intellectual  superiority  over  their  fellows  that  we  cannot  help 
laughing  with  them,  rather  than  at  them,  for  their  ridiculous 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET*  93 

vanity.  The  whole  essence  of  the  humour  in  these  characters 
lies  in  their  utter  unconsciousness  of  their  own  errors ; 
immediately  the  actor  tries  to  emphasise  their  absurd  mis- 
takes, as  if  he  knew  he  was  saying  something  amusing, 
all  that  humour  vanishes.  I  have  myself  met  with  such 
characters,  in  real  life,  more  than  once,  and  I  have  been  im- 
mensely impressed  by  the  perfect  self-complacency  with  which 
they  gave  forth  their  grandiloquent  mispronunciations." 

With  regard  to  this  scene,  there  seems  to  be  little  doubt 
that  Shakespeare  had  in  his  mind  the  case  of  Sir  James 
Hales,f  of  which  he  could  only  "  have  heard  in  conversa- 
tion," as  Malone  points  out ;  this  is  but  another  instance  of 
the  observant  nature  of  our  great  dramatist ;  his  ears  as  well 
as  his  eyes  were  always  open. 

When  Hamlet  enters  with  Horatio  we  find  him  more» 
than  ever  disposed  to  avail  himself  of  any  temporary' 
distraction  which  may  offer  itself.  How  the  two  friends  ^ 
contrive  to  find  themselves  in  the  churchyard  at  this  oppor- 
tune moment  we  must  not  inquire  too  closely.  This  is, 
surely,  one  of  those  cases  in  which  the  dramatist  may  be 
allowed  some  licence  in  the  arrangement  of  his  incidents.  It 
is  more  important  to  observe  that  the  character  of  Hamlet  is 
here  most  admirably  sustained,  and  that  as  he  approaches, 
unconsciously,  nearer  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  long  delayed 
task,  he  becomes  more  prone  to  reflect  and  moralise  on_ every 
circumstance i_  whiqiueemes  under  his  notice 7  He  is  wander- 
ing about  in  a  purposeless  manner,  while  his  work  of  vengeance 
remains  undone,  while  the  solemn  command  of  the  Ghost, 
and  the  promptings  of  just  self-defence,  alike  remain  neg- 
lected, while  tjio  maiden  that  he  loved  so  devotedly  is  lying 
on  her  bier — he  does  not  know  of  her  sad  fate,  it  is  true  ;  Hora- 
tio, who  had  seen  her  in  her  pitiful  distraction,  but  who  was 
ignorant  of  her  death,  had,  perhaps,  scrupled  to  tell  him  the 
painful  news; — still,  it  would  have  been  only  natural  that  he 
should  have  made  all  the  haste  he  could  to  gain  some  tidings 

*  I  may,  perhaps,  be  excused  for  mentioning  one  instance  of  the  many 
which  have  fallen  under  my  personal  observation.  It  was  at  the  Zoological 
Gardens,  on  a  certain  Whit-Monday,  when  the  heat  was  excessive,  that  I 
happened  to  be  taking  my  htnch  at.  a  table  next  to  a  worthy  middle-aged 
couple,  whose  faces  bore  witness  to  the  exertions  they  had  made  in  the 
pursuit  of  zoological  knowledge.  "  Mary,  my  dear,"  remarked  the  gentle- 
man, "it's  awful  'ot."  " 'Ot,  James  !"  answered  the  lady,  while  fanning 
herself  with  a  newspaper;  "I'm  perfectly  prostituted  with  the 'eat."  1 
never  shall  forget  the  expression  of  placid  self-satisfaction  which  overspread 
her  ample  countenance  as  she  gave  utterance  to  this  unhappy  sentence.  1 


was  prostrated  with  suppressed  laughter,  if  not  with  the  heat. 
t  o't-s  Notes  in  Malone's  Shakespeare  (edition 


1821),  vol.  vii.,  page  463. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

of  his  beloved ;  yet  lie  lingers  in  this  churchyard,  and  is  lost 
in  wonder  because  the  vulgar  sexton  can  find  heart  to  sing- 
while  he  is  digging  a  grave.  It  is  evident  that  Hamlet  is 
now  in  that  condition  into  which  sensitive  natures,  when 
oppressed  by  calamity,  are  very  apt  to  sink — he  is  in  a  state 
of  mental  disturbance  which  in  its  very  anxiety  to  escape 
from  the  subject  which  most  weighs  upon  the  mind  is  apt  to 
confound  itself,  as  far  as  unthinking  observers  are  concerned, 
with  heartless  apathy.  Alas !  how  little  they  know  the 
terrible  oppression  which,  in  such  unhappy  men,  wraps  the 
heart  round,  like  a  leaden  shroud  ;  it  is  to  this  Hamlet  after- 
wards alludes  when  he  says  to  Horatio— 

But  tliou  wouldst  not  think  how  ill  all's  here  about  my  heart  : 

—Act  V.,  Sc.  2,  line  119. 

,  All  the  time  that  he  is  moralising  on  the  skulls  which  the 
unfeeling  grave-digger  "  jowls  on  the  ground  ;"  while  politi- 
•*  cian,  courtier,  lawyer,  fine  lady,  jester,  all  in  turn  are  the 
subjects  of  his  cynical  sermons  ;  while  he  bandies  jests  with 
the  rude  but  ready  sexton ;  not  for  one  moment  is  he  able  to 
escape  from  the  cloud  that  hangs  over  him :  he  may  smile  at 
the  pragmatical  impertinence  of  the  "  absolute  knave  "  who 
answers  his  questions  with  so  little  respect,  but  the  heavy 
weight  at  his  heart  grows  none  the  lighter.  '^  There  is  some- 
thing infinitely  more  tragic  in  these  vain  attempts  to  escape, 
though  by  means  of  the  most  trivial  distractions,  from  the 
oppressive  shadow  of  the  rapidly  approaching  catastrophe, 
than  in  all  the  grand  sonorous  groanings  of  heroic  tragedy. 

There  are  one  or  two  points  worth  remarking  in  this  scene  : 
one  is  that  the  grave-digger,  although  he  had  been  so  long 
employed  near  Elsinore,  evidently  does  not  recognise 
Hamlet ;  we  may  conclude  that  his  cloak  would  partially 
conceal  him,  and  that  as  he  would  probably  be  in  the  same 
dress  as  that  which  he  wore  when  taken  by  the  pirates,  his 

!  appearance  would  not  show  many  signs  of  his  princely  rank. 

(  Another  point  is  that  from  the  words  which  this  "  clown  " 

,  uses  in  speaking  of  Hamlet — 

He  that  is  mad  and  sent  into  England — 

» it  would  seem  that  the  common  people  knew  nothing  more 
(of  the  reason  why  he  had  been  sent  out  of  Denmark  but  that 
•  it  was  on  account  of  his  madness. 

Another  point,  which  I  should  have  thought  would  have 
attracted  the  attention,  at  least  of  the  more  modern  commen- 
tators, is  that  we  have  here  the^same_  joke  about  the  mad- 
ness of  all  Englishmen,  which  has  so  long  been  a  cardinal 


A   STUDY   OF   ItAMLET.  95 

point  of  most  foreigners'  creeds  with  regard  to  us,  and  which 
the  eccentricity  of  some  of  our  fellow-countrymen,  when  tra- 
velling, has  helped  to  confirm.  It  would  be  curious  to  know 
whether  the  same  opinion  of  us  prevailed  generally  in  Shake- 
speare's time,  and  what  was  the  origin  of  it.* 

The  remaining  point  of  importance  in  this  scene  is  the 
allusion  to  Hamlet's  age,  from  which  it  appears,  according  to 
the  grave-digger,  that  he  was  born  on  the  very  day  his  father 
defeated  Fortinbras  (lines  139,  140) ;  that  also  on  that  day 
this  rustic  wit  "  came  to"  the  trade  of  grave-maker  (lines  135, 
136)  ;  finally,  that  he  had  "been  sexton,  man  and  boy,  thirty 
years"  (lines  152,  153).     This  would  seem  to  put  it  beyond 
doubt  that  Hamlet  was  thirty  years  old.     Besides  this  evi-  . 
dence  we  have  the  corroborative  circumstance  that  Yorick's  ^ 
skull  had  lain  in  the  earth  three-and-twenty  years  (line  163).  , 
As  Hamlet  tells   Horatio  that  he  knew  Yorick,  who  had ' 
borne  him  "  on  his  back  a  thousand  times,"  and  whose  lips  1 
he   had   kissed  "  he  knew  not  how  oft"  (lines  173-176),  inj 
fact,  that  Yorick  had  been  the  constant  companion  of  his 
early  childhood,  the  age  of  Hamlet  could  not  have  been  pos- 
sibly much  less  than  thirty  years.     I  have  thought  it  better  j 
to  discuss  in   the    Appendixf  the  question  how  much  we . 
ought  to  rely  upon  the  figures  in  the  passages  referred  to 
above. 

Hamlet's  moralisings  are  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  a 
funeral  procession,  in  which  are  the  King,  Queen,  and  the 
courtiers.  Here  is  another  distraction  to  occupy  his  restless 
mind.  It  seeins  to  me  hard  to  conceive  a  more  dramatic 
"  situation,"  or  a  more  pathetic  incident  than  this :  he  has 
no  idea  whose  the  funeral  is  ;  even  Laertes'  presence  does 
not  suggest  to  him  that  it  may  be  Ophelia's  body  which 
they  follow  *'  with  such  maimed  rites."  As  I  have  pointed 
out  before,  Horatio  could  not  have  known  of  Ophelia's  death 
any  more  than  Hamlet ;  but  he  had  seen  her  in  her  pitiable, 
distracted  state,  and  it  would  certainly  seem  that,  if  he  had 
spoken  of  her  at  all  to  Hamlet,  he  had  concealed  the  gravity  of 
her  affliction  ;  otherwise  the  latter  would  surely  have  sus- 
pected that  the  funeral  was  hers.  How  deep  a  pathos  there 
is  in  the  perfect  unconsciousness  of  Hamlet  that  every  detail 
of  this  sad  ceremony  at  which  he  was  looking  as  an  unin- 
terested spectator,  touched  so  nearly  the  tenderest  feelings 
of  his  heart — 


Sec  Additional  Note,  No. 
Sec  Appendix  P. 


96  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

This  doth  betoken 

The  corse  they  follow  did  with  desperate  hand 
Fordo  its  own  life  :  'twas  of  some  estate. 
Couch  we  awhile,  and  mark. 

—Lines  208—210. 

The  way  in  which  he  mentions  Laertes  has,  to  the  audience 
who  know  what  has  happened,  something  in  it  of  satire  which 
the  speaker  never  intended — 

That  is  Laertes — a  very  noble  youth. 

It  seems  to  me  that  at  this  point  the  actor  generally  loses  an 
opportunity  for  the  display  of  facial  acting  of  the  highest 
order.  Hamlet  and  Horatio  have  retired  out  of  sight  of  those 
who  are  taking  part  in  the  funeral  ceremony,  but  not  out  of 
sight  of  the  audience.  Some  actors  I  have  seen  cover  their 
face  with  their  cloaks,  while  others  almost  go  off  the  stage  ; 
but  surely  Hamlet,  immediately  he  hears  the  words,  "  Her 
obsequies,"  &c.,  in  answer  to  the  demand  of  Laertes — 

What  ceremony  else  ? 

would  begin  to  listen  with  the  closes^  attention ;  the    fact 
that  it  was  a  woman's  funeral  would  strike  him.     A  little 
further,  when  he  hears  the  words- 
Yet  here  she  is  allow  'd  her  maiden  crants, 
Her  maiden  strewments,  &c., 

suspicion  of  the  terrible  truth  would  begin  to  dawn  on  him ; 
his  eyes  would  glance  rapidly  from  face  to  face  with  a 
piercing  look,  his  grasp  of  Horatio's  hand  would  tighten,  his 
breathing  become  quicker  and  quicker,  till  at  Laertes'  words — * 

A  ministering  angel  shall  my  sister  be, 

the  dreadful  certainty  would  burst  upon  him — it  was  his 
love's  half-honoured  grave  that  lay  open  there  before  him,  it 
was  her  sweet  body  on  which  that  sad  rain  of  flowers  was 
falling ;  with  a  sob,  half-suppressed,  he  would  throw  himself 
on  Horatio's  breast,  as  the  words  come  from  him  in  a  low 
moan  of  despair — 

What,  the  fair  Ophelia  1 

the  name  he  seemed  to  have  loved  best  to  call  her.  Perhaps 
these  few  words  were  the  first  full  confession  of  his  love  ho 
had  ever  made  to  this  true  and  single-hearted  friend ;  for  even 
to  him  he  never  seems  to  have  told  the  secret  of  this  love, 
which,  under  the  cruel  repression  that  he  exercised  over  it, 
was  silently  eating  away  his  heart.  It  is  but  for  a  moment 
that  he  suffers  himself  to  be  overcome  ;  the  sound  of  Laertes' 
voice,  invoking  curses  on  the  head  of  him,  "  whose  wicked 


A  STUDY  OF   HAMLET.  .  97 

deed  "  had  deprived  the  sweet  maid  of  her  "  ingenious  sense," 
rouses  him ;  and  as  he  sees  the  brother,  half-mad  with  pas- 
sion, leap  into  the  grave ;  as  he  listens  to  that  bombastic  dis- 
play of  grief — 

Now  pile  your  dust  upon  the  quick  and  dead, 
Till  of  this  flat  a  mountain  you  have  made 
To  o'ertop  old  Pelion  or  the  skyish  head 
Of  blue  Olympus. 

— when  Hamlet  sees  and  hears  all  this  ;  he  who  loved  this 
fair  and  sweet  maiden  with  a  love  which  was  all  the  fiercer 
because  it  had  to  be  crushed  ;  he  who  had  sacrificed  this  love 
and  its  object  on  the  altar  of  a  great  purpose  which  was  not, 
for  all  that  cruel  sacrifice,  a  whit  nearer  fulfilment ;  he  who 
had  torn  the  tender  strings  of  his  own  heart,  had  broken  hers, 
and  shook  her  reason  from  its  throne,  and  had  done  all  this 
in  vain  ; — what  wonder  is  it  that  his  soul  is  filled  with  bitter- 
ness, that  the  sight  and  sound  of  this  brother's  outrageous 
grief  maddens  him,  and  that  he  too  leaps  into  the  grave  with 
the  cry — 

This  is  I, 
Hamlet  the  Dane. 

In  these  few  words  Hamlet  would  seem  to  say  :  "  This  is  I 
whom  you  execrate  as  the  wretch  who  has  killed  your  father 
and  driven  your  sister  into  madness.  I  confess  I  did  this, 
but  I  did  it  unwittingly.  Revile  me,  curse  me,  use  me  as 
you  will.  I  can  bear  anything  but  the  mockery  of  your  pre- 
tending that  your  grief  is  greater  than  mine."  Surely  in 
this  case  the  circumstances  would  excuse  in  any  man,  even 
in  one  who,  unlike  Hamlet,  was,  by  habit  and  nature,  en- 
dowed with  the  utmost  self-command,  an  outburst  of  furious 
passion.  The  torture  of  self-suppression  had  become  greater 
than  human  nature  could  bear.  In  vain  had  he  tried  to  burn 
all  tenderness  out  of  his  heart,  to  force  himself  into  a  deed 
of  just  vengeance ; '  through  his  weakness  he  had  failed  jv 
failed  utterly  to  strike  one  blow  against  the  guilty  murderer,  — 
while  by  the  irony  of  fate  two  innocent  lives,  one  that  of 
her  whom  he  loved  best  on  earth,  had  been  sacrificed  through 
his  unwilling  agency.  Brought,  as  it  seemed,  by  the  cruel 
caprice  of  the  same  relentless  fate,  without  any  warning,  to 
the  grave  of  his  love,  when  it  was  too  late  to  speak  one 
tender  word  to  her,  or  to  beg  her  forgiveness  for  his  harsh- 
ness, he  hears  her  brother,  who  he  knew  never  loved  her  with 
the  same  tenderness  that  he  did,  calling  clown  "  full  ten  times 
treble  woe  "  on  his  head — as  if  there  could  be  greater  woe 
than  what  he  was  enduring  then— and  demanding  to  be 


98  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

buried  with  Ophelia,  as  if  there  were  no  one  else  in  the  world 
who  would  die  for  her  !  Why,  Hamlet  must  have  felt  that 
he  would  gladly  die,  ten  thousand  times,  the  most  agonising 
death,  if  he  could  only  call  her  back  to  life. 
"  The  malignant  way  in  which  Steevens  has  misrepresented 
Hamlet's  conduct  in  this  scene  is  pretty  well  known,  chiefly 
from  the  indignant  remonstrances  it  has  called  forth.  But  it 
may  be  as  well  to  give- the  passage  here  : — 

"  He  interrupts  the  funeral  designed  in  honour  of  this  lady  (Ophelia), 
at  which  both  the  King  and  Queen  were  present ;  and  by  such  an  outrage 
to  decency,  renders  it  still  more  necessary  for  the  usurper  to  lay  a  second 
stratagem  for  his  life,  though  the  first  had  proved  abortive.  He  insults  the 
brother  of  the  dead,  and  boasts  of  an  affection  for  his  sister,  which  before 
he  had  denied  to  her  face,  and  yet  at  this  very  time  must  be  considered  as 
desirous  of  supporting  the  character  of  a  madman,  so  that  the  openness  of 
his  confession  is  not  to  be  imputed  to  him  as  a  virtue. " 

Poor  Hamlet !  Had  you  been  standing  in  the  Old  Bailey 
dock,  and  George  Steevens  counsel  for  the  prosecution,  you 
would  have  scarce  escaped  hanging !  For  good  taste  and 
veracity  this  venomous  indictment  reminds  one  of  the  Old 
Bailey  in  its  worst  days.  It  was,  perhaps,  well  for  Mr. 
Steevens  that  no  usurper  was  at  hand  to  punish  outrages  to 
decency,  on  the  part  of  critics,  in  his  day  with  the  same 
sternness  which  Claudius  found  necessary  in  Hamlet's  case. 
Seriously  speaking,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  the  man  who 
wrote  the  above  criticism  had  ever  road  Shakespeare's 
"  Hamlet."  One  would  think  it  referred  to  the  conduct  of 
some  misguided  young  man  who  had  rudely  interrupted  the 
funeral  "  designed  in  honour"  of  some  distinguished  person  in 
Westminster  Abbey.  The  whole  circumstances  of  the  case, 
the  character,  situation,  and  calamities  of  Hamlet — in  fact, 
all  that  has  happened,  or  lias  been  told  us,  in  the  former  part 
of  the  play,  is  ignored.  It  is  sufficient  to  observe  here  that 
when  Hamlet  told  Ophelia  "  he  loved  her  not,"  he  was  speak- 
ing in  the  character  of  a  madman ;  while,  in  this  case,  it  is 
real  passion  which  completely  overcomes  his  self-control. 

Maddened  as  Hamlet  is  by  the  sight  of  Laertes'  grief,  he 
still  retains  sufficient  command  of  himself  to  remonstrate 
with  him.  Immediately  on  his  leaping  into  the  grave, 
Laertes  seizes  him  by  the  throat,  exclaiming — 

The  devil  take  thy  soul  ! 

Hamlet  forbears,    at  first,  to  repel   violence  with  violence* 
There  is  dignity  as  well  as  self-command  in  his  answer — 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLE1\  00 

HAM.  Thou  pray'st  not  well. 

I  prithee,  take  thy  lingers  from  my  throat  ; 
For,  though  I  am  not  splenetive  and  rash, 
Yet  have  I  in  me  something  dangerous, 
Which  let  thy  wisdom  fear.     Hold  off  thy  hand. 

He  does  not  forget  that  Laertes  is,  after  all,  her  brother ; 
he  does  not  at  first  struggle  with  him  ;  he  begs  him  to  take 
his  hand  off  him  ;  for  though  he  is  not  prone  to  violence,  he 
has  "  something  dangerous  "  in  him  now.  It  would  seem  that 
Laertes,  forgetting  all  but  his  hatred  of  Hamlet,  would  then 
and  there  have  taken  his  revenge.  The  latter  is  driven  to 
defend  himself,  and  some  of  the  courtiers  are  obliged  to  part 
the  two.  Hamlet's  blood  is  now  up,  and  lie  flings  away  all 
concealment : 

HAM.      Why,  I  will  fight  with  him  upon  this  theme 

Until  my  eyelids  will  no  longer  wag. 
QUEEN.  0  my  son,  what  theme  ? 
HAM.      I  loved  Ophelia  :  forty  thousand  brothers 

Could  not,  with  all  their  quantity  of  love, 

Makeup  my  sum. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  describe  the  effect  which  that 
cry  of  agony,  "  I  loved  Ophelia,"  has  upon  me.  I  never 
heard  it  yet  spoken  on  the  stage  with  one-thousandth  part  of 
the  force  that  rightly  belongs  to  it.  Is  it  not  the  key  to  much 
of  the  mystery  which  Hamlet  has  been  to  all  around  him, 
and,  in  some  degree,  even  to  himself  ?  It  is  the  cry  of  a 
love  which  has  been  cruelly  beaten  down,  which  has  been 
kept,  as  it  were,  chained  and  gagged  in  the  farthest  corner  of 
his  sorrow-darkened  heart ;  it  has  never  ceased  to  struggle 
against  its  fetters  ;  and  now  at  last,  in  the  anguish  of  death, 
its  bonds  are  burst  and  its  voice  can  be  stifled  no  longer. 
AVhatever  the  consequences,  in  the  presence  even  of  his  uncle, 
before  whom  he  would  have  shrunk  from  showing  any  glimpse 
of  his  real  feelings,  Hamlet  is  obliged  to  lay  bare  his  heart's 
wounds.  Precisely  in  proportion  to  the  sincerity  and  depth 
of  his  love  for  Ophelia  has  been  the  difficulty  which  he 
experienced  in  fulfilling  a  task  involving  the  abandonment 
of  that  love.  Much  of  his  bitterness  to  her  and  others  is 
now  explained ;  for  he  was  trying  to  kill  an  affection  which 
would  not  die. 

It  is   remarkable  that  in   his  fury  Hamlet  makes   action 
the  test  of  sincerity  : 

What  wilt  thou  do  for  her  ? 
And  again  : 

HAM.  'S wounds,  show  me  what  thou'lt  do  : 

Woo't  weep  ?  woo't  fight  ?  woo't  fast  2  woo't  tear  thyself 


100  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

Woo't  drink  up  eisel  ?  eat  a  crocodile  ? 
I'll  do't.    Dost  thou  come  here  to  whine  ? 
To  outface  me  with  leaping  in  her  grave  ? 
Be  buried  quick  with  her,  and  so  will  I : 
And,  if  thou  prate  of  mountains,  let  them  throw 
Millions  of  acres  on  us,  till  our  ground, 
Singeing  his  pate  against  the  burning  zone 
Make  Ossa  like  a  wart !     Nay  an  thou'lt  mouth, 
I'll  rant  as  well  as  thou. 

It  is  evident  that  Hamlet  speaks  these  words  with  the 
utmost  vehemence  ;  he  is  in  that  state  of  excitement  in 
which  such  temperaments  as  his  crave  the  outlet  of  action  ; 
at  this  moment  he  would  do  any  of  the  things  that  he  men- 
tions. Whether,  finding  himself  carried  away  by  his  rage 
into  a  declaration  of  his  love  for  Ophelia,  he  has  sufficient 
presence  of  mind  to  exaggerate  his  language  wilfully,  in 
order  that  he  may  lessen  the  importance  of  such  a  confession, 
may  be  a  matter  for  conjecture.  I  believe  myself  that  this 
outburst  is  one  of  those  uncontrollable  paroxysms  of  excite- 
ment  which  persons  who,  like  Hamlet,  are  on  the  verge  of 
madness,  must  occasionally  suffer  if  they  are  to  preserve 
their  reason  at  all.  It  is  possible  that  Hamlet's  fury  was 
aggravated  by  the  recollection  that  he,  like  Laertes,  was 
prone  to  threaten  much  and  to  perform  comparatively  little. 
For  Laertes  is  by  no  means  the  man  of  action  that  he  at  first 
sight  appears  to  be.  The  catastrophe  which  overtook  Ophelia 
might  have  been  prevented,  had  he,  instead  of  discussing 
schemes  of  vengeance  with  Claudius,  have  followed  his  sister 
out,  when  he  saw  her  unhappy  condition,  and  not  have  left 
her  till  he  had  placed  her  in  some  trustworthy  hands.  It 
was  in  more  than  one  respect  that  Hamlet  might  have  seen 
in  the  circumstances  of  Laertes  some  reflection  of  his  own  ; 
for  in  both  of  them  strong  feeling  and  enthusiasm  \vere 
wrongly  directed. 

The  Queen's  description  of  Hamlet's  mental  condition  is 
very  beautiful,  and  no  doubt  it  is  also  true ;  in  fact,  this  is 
one  of  the  speeches  which,  like  that  in  which  she  describes 
her  son's  grief  over  the  body  of  Polonius,*  is  intended  to 
admit  us  behind  the  scenes,  and  to  reveal  to  us  those  phases 
of  Hamlet's  character  which  could  not  be  exhibited  on  the 
stage : 


See  Act  IV.,  Scene  1,  lines  23-27. 

Ki?s7G.  Where  is  lie  gohe  ? 

QUEEN.  To  draw  apart  the  body  he  hath  kill'd  : 

O'er  whom  his  very  madness,  like  some  ore 

Among  a  mineral  of  metals  base, 

Shows  itself  pure  ;  he  weeps  for  what  is  doile. 


A   STUDY  OF  HAMLET.  101 

This  is  mere  madness  : 
And  thus  awhile  the  fit  will  work  on  him  ; 
Anon,  as  patient  as  the  female  dove 
When  that  her  golden  couplets  are  disclosed,* 
His  silence  will  sit  drooping. 

Hamlet  almost  justifies  this  description  by  the  sudden 
change  in  his  tone  from  passionate  invective  to  gentle  ex-« 
postulation — 

Hear  you,  sir  ; 

What  is  the  reason  that  you  use  me  thus  ? 
I  loved  you  ever. 

Had  he  been  able  to  restrain  himself  and  to  argue  calmly 
with  Laertes,  he  might  well  have  asked  him  why  he  execrated 
the  friend  of  his  youth  for  an  act  which  was  committed  un^ 
intentionally,  and  which  had  been  bitterly  repented,  without 
giving  that  friend  any  chance  of  explaining  his  conduct.  It 
seems  as  if  Hamlet  now  felt  the  effects  of  reaction  after  his 
vehement  outburst  of  rage,  and  was  inclined  to  yield  to  that 
spirit  of  fatalism  which  every  now  and  then  got  possession 
of  him.  This  is  the  only  explanation  which  I  can  see  of 
the  somewhat  enigmatical  words  'with  which  he  concludes 
this  speech — 

but  it  is  no  matter ; 
Let  Hercules  himself  do  what  he  may, 
The  cat  will  mew,  and  dog  will  have  his  day.  [Exit. 

The  commentators  have  not  exerted  their  ingenuity  on  this 
passage,  which  is  rather  unintelligible  :  the  meaning  would 
seem  to  be,  "  Not  even  the  strength  of  Hercules  can  change 
the  disposition  which  Nature  implants  in  us ;  it  is  not  in 
your  nature  t.o  understand  my  motives  ;  and  do  whatever  I 
will,  you  will  persist  in  misunderstanding  them." 

Hamlet  goes  away  in  such  a  state  of  agitation  that  he  for- 
gets the  presence  of  Horatio,  whom  the  King  wisely  bids  to 
wait  on  him.  The  last  three  lines  which  Claudius  speaks  are 
addressed  to  Laertes,  and  the  speech  should  thus  be  marked : 

(To  Laertes).  Strengthen  your  patience  in  our  last  night'sf  speech  ; 
We'll  put  the  matter  to  the  present  push. 

*  This  is  a  curious  instance  of  Shakespeare's  accuracy  in  those  illustrative 
details  which  he  is  so  fond  of  introducing.  The  dove  lays  only  two  eggs, 
and  when  the  young  are  first  hatched  they  are  covered  with  a  yellow  down, 
which  affords  so  slight  a  protection  from  the  cold  that  the  mother  is  obliged 
to  sib  on  them  for  three  days.  (See  Steevens'  and  Heath's  Notes,  Malone's 
"  Shakespeare,"  edition  1821,  vol.  vii.,  p.  482.) 

t  This  would  seem  to  imply  that  the  conversation  between  the  King  and 
Laertes  in  the  last  act  took  place  on  the  previous  night.  But  this  could  not 
have  been  so,  as  will  be  seen  by  reference  to  that  scene  (Act  IV.,  Scene  7) ; 
neither  is  it  possible  that  Ophelia  could  have  died  at  night  or  in  the 


102'  A    STUDY  OF   HAMLET. 

(To  the  QUEEN).  Good  Gertrude,  set  some  watch  over  your  son. 
(To  LAERTES).  This  grave  shall  have  a  living  monument : 
An  hour  of  quiet  shortly  shall  we  see  ; 
Till  then,  in  patience  our  proceedings  be. 

By  "  a  living  monument "  Claudius  means  that  a  living 
man  shall  be  sacrificed  to  the  memory  of  the  dead.  Laertes 
could  not  but  be  confirmed  in  his  purpose  by  what  had 
passed  ;  everything  is  most  ingeniously  contrived  by  Shake- 
speare to  fan  the  flame  of  his  resentment  against  Hamlet. 

I  have  already*  treated  of  the  first  part  of  this  next  scene 
(Act  Y.,  Scene  2),  when  discussing  the  question  of  Hamlet's 
conduct  to  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern.  It  only  remains 
to  notice  the  words  in  which  he  expresses  to  Horatio  his 
sorrow  for  his  outburst  of  passion  over  the  grave  of  Ophelia. 
Not  that  he  alludes  to  Ophelia  in  any  way  either  directly  or 
indirectly  ;  he  carefully  avoids  doing  so,  which  confirms  what 
I  have  suggested  as  regards  his  reticence,  even  to  Horatio,  on 
the  subject  of  his  love. 

But  I  am  very  sorry,  good  Horatio, 

That  to  Laertes  I  forgot  myself ; 

For,  by  the  image  of  my  cause,  I  see 

The  portraiture  of  his  ;  I'll  court  his  favours  : 

But,  sure,  the  bravery  of  his  grief  did  put  me 

Into  a  towering  passion. 

Nothing  can  be  more  becoming  than  the  tone  of  this  speech  ; 
he  is  the  more  sorry  for  his  display  of  passion,  because,  now 
that  he  is  calm,  he  can  understand,  from  his  own  feelings 
with  regard  to  his  father,  what  those  of  Laertes  must  have 
been :  but  it  was  the  "  bravery "  or  "  ostentation "  of  the 
latter's  grief  which  enraged  him.  Hamlet  is  very  probably 
going  to  say  something  more,  when  they  are  interrupted  by 
the  entrance  of  Osric. 

The  next  scene  is  one  of  the  most  charming  pieces  of  high 
comedy  which  Shakespeare  has  left  us  :  and  those  are  very 
superficial  critics  who  talk  of  the  slovenliness  of  the  last  act, 
for  the  elaborate  finish  of  this  scene,  at  least,  cannot  be 
denied.  It  barely  exists  in  the  first  version  of  1603.  Shake- 
speare was  too  great  an  artist  not  to  know  that  any  interrup- 
tion to  the  action  at  this  point  would  not  be  tolerated,  unless 
it  were  of  so  interesting  a  nature  as  to  reconcile  the  audience 
to  the  delay.  Some  pause  is  necessary  before  the  scheme  of 

evening  and  have  been  buried  the  next  day.     The  2nd  Clown  says  (Act  V., 
Scene  1,  line  4)  "  that  the  crowner  hath  sat  on  her  ;"  and  though  this  may 
be  an  anachronism,  it  is  probable  there  would  have  been  some  inquiry  into 
her  death. 
*  See  Part  III.,  pp.  64-67. 


A  STUDY   OF  HAMLET.  103 

the  King  and  Laertes  can  be  carried  out.  Nowhere  is  the 
irony,  which  pervades  this  great  work,  more  remarkable  than 
in  the  contrivance  of  introducing  what  the  spectators  know 
is  a  treacherous  design  to  assassinate  Hamlet  with  a  genuinely 
comic  prelude.  Affectation  was  never  more  happily  ridiculed 
than  it  is  in  this  mincing  periphrastic  courtier  ;  nor  was  satire 
ever  more  effective  and  good-humoured  than  is  that  of 
Hamlet,  whose  wit  shines  now  witli  greater  brilliancy  than 
ever,  though  he  is  heavy  at  heart  and  is  standing  uncon- 
sciously on  the  brink  of  his  own  grave. 

There  are  two  passages  in  this  scene  which  have  occasioned 
much  difference  of  opinion  on  the  part  of  the  critics ;  one  is 
that  in  which  Osric  gives  the  details  of  the  wager  that  the 
King  had  made  on  the  contest  between  Laertes  and  Hamlet ; 
the  other  is  that  in  which  Hamlet  describes  the  character  of 
Osric  to  Horatio,  after  that  elegant  gentleman  has  taken  his 
leave  of  them.  The  comments  that  I  have  ventured  to  make 
on  these  passages  will  be  found  in  the  Additional  Notes.* 

Osric  has  left  them  but  a  very  short  time  when  "  a  Lord  " 
enters  with  a  message  from  the  King,  who  sends  to  know  if  it 
be  Hamlet's  pleasure  to  play  with  Laertes  at  once,  or  if  he 
prefers  to  wait.  The  first  sentence  of  Hamlet's  answer  sounds 
oddly  in  his  mouth  : 

HAM.  I  am  constant  to  my  purposes  ;  they  follow  the  King's  pleasure  :  if 
his  fitness  speaks,  mine  is  ready  ;  now  or  whensoever,  provided  I  be  so  able 
as  now. 

How  different  the  tone  of  this  answer  to  that  in  which  he 
replied  to  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  when  they  were  act- 
ing as  the  King's  ambassadors  (Act  IV.,  Scene  2,  lines  24-30). 
Hamlet  seems  anxious  to  atone  for  his  outbreak  of  temper  at 
Ophelia's  grave  in  every  way ;  and  it  is  as  much  from  this 
motive,  as  from  the  spirit  of  emulation  which  was  strong  in 
him,  that  he  accepts  Laertes'  challenge.  All  his  answers  are 
courteous,  and  even  submissive  : 

LOKI).  The  king  and  queen  and  all  are  coining  down. 
HAM.    In  happy  time. 

LORD.  The  queen  desires  you  to  use  some  gentle  entertainment  to  Laertes 
before  you  fall  to  play. 
HAM.  She  well  instructs  me.  [Exit  Lord. 

There  is  no  bitterness,  no   affectation  of  madness  ;  no  rebel-.. 
Jion_jigainsj^his  mother's  aSEEority.    .He  is  confident  of  win- 
ning the  wager  ;  yet  about  his  heart  "  all  is  ill."      Horatio 
tries  to  persuade  him  to  abandon  the  match,  even  at  the  last 

*  See  Additional  Note  No.  16. 


104  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

moment,  but  he  will  not  listen  to  his  suggestions  ;  the  very 
misgivings  that  he  feels  only  serve  to  strengthen  his  resolu- 
tion ;  a  strange  fitful  obstinacy,  not  uncommon  in  those  whose 
indecision  is  the  result  of  over-much  reflection.  Such  per- 
sons seem  often  to  find  a  kind  of  relief  in  acting  on  sudden 
impulses,  or  in  spite  of  strong  forebodings.  Hamlet's  last 
speech  to  Horatio  points  to  the  fact  that  his  fatalism  has  been 
growing  upon  him  until  it  has  entirely  usurped  the  place  of 
any  other  faith.  True  that  it  is  not  a  pagan  fatalism,  but 
neither  is  it  the  resignation  of  a  Christian,  in  spite  of  the 
allusion  to  the  New  Testament.  It  is  at  best  the  negative 
courage  of  a  conscientious  doubter,  who  Imows^tliatL  -death 
must  come,  but  is  content  to  leave  the  hereafter  in  uncer- 


we  defy  augury  :  there  is  special  providence  in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow. 
If  it  be  now,  'tis  not  to  come  ;  if  it  be  to  come,  it  will  be  now  ;  if  it  be 
not  now,  yet  it  will  come  :  the  readiness  is  all  ;  since  no  man  has  aught 
of  what  he  leaves,  what  is't  to  leave  betimes  ?  Let  be. 

On  the  stage  a  change  of  scene  now  occurs,  but  it  appears 
that  originally  there  was  none,  the  conversation  with  Horatio 
and  Osric  taking  place  in  the  same  hall  in  which  the  fencing 
match  occurs.  The  King,  Queen,  Laertes,  and  Court  enter, 
the  flagons  of  wine  are  set  on  the  table,  and  the  first  part  of 
the  treacherous  plot  against  Hamlet's  life  commences  with 
the  placing  of  Laertes'  hand  in  Hamlet's  by  his  pious  Majesty 
King  Claudius.  What  must  be  the  feelings  of  Laertes  at  this 
moment,  as  he  suffers  himself  to  go  through  this  monstrous 
hypocrisy  ?  He  has  need  of  a  courage  such  as  few  murderers 
have  ever  shown,  if  he  is  not  to  tremble  as  he  takes,  in  solemn 
reconciliation,  the  hand  of  the  man  whom  he  is  about  to 
assassinate  in  the  most  perfidious  manner. 

I  transcribe  the  whole  of  Hamlet's  speech  here,  as  it  has 
been  made  the  grounds  for  an  attack  on  his  good  faith  and 
truthfulness  by  Johnson,  whose  note  on  the  passage  is  — 

I  wish  Hamlet  had  made  some  other  defence  ;  it  is  unsuitable  to  the  cha- 
racter of  a  good  or  a  brave  man,  to  shelter  himsslf  in  falsehood. 

—  Malone's  "Shakespeare"  (edit.  1821),  vol.-vii.,  p.  505. 

Of  course,  Steevens  greedily  seizes  on  this  accusation,  and 
adds  it  to  his  long  list  of  charges  against  Hamlet;  but  I 
believe  it  to  be  utterly  unjust,  and  founded  on  a  total  miscon- 
ception of  this  particular  passage,  and  of  Hamlet's  character. 
Let  us  see  what  it  is  that  Hamlet  says,  and  under  what  cir- 
cumstances he  says  it  :  — 

Give  me  your  pardon,  sir  :  I've  done  you  wrong  ; 
But  pardon't,  as  you  are  a  gentleman. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  105 

This  presence  knows, 

And  you  must  needs  have  hoard,  how  I  arn  punish'd 

With  sore  distraction.     What  I  have  done, 

That  might  your  nature,  honour,  and  exception 

Roughly  awake,  I  here  proclaim  was  madness. 

Was't  Hamlet  wrong'd  Laertes  ?    Never  Hamlet  : 

If  Hamlet  from  himself  be  ta'en  away, 

And  when  he's  not  himself  does  wrong  Laertes, 

Then  Hamlet  does  it  not,  Hamlet  denies  it. 

Who  does  it  then  ?    His  madness  :  if't  be  so, 

Hamlet  is  of  the  faction  that  is  wrong'd  ; 

His  madness  is  poor  Hamlet's  enemy. 

Sir,  in  this  audience, 

Let  my  disclaiming  from  a  purposed  evil 

Free  me  so  far  in  your  most  generous  thoughts, 

That  I  have  shot  mine  arrow  o'er  the  house, 

And  hurt  my  brother. 

Now  tliis  apology,  and  I  maintain  that  it  is  a  most  generous 
and  frank  apology,  has  to  be  made  in  the  presence  of  Claudius, 
and  of  the  courtiers  before  whom  Hamlet  had,  for  his  own 
purposes,  assumed  madness.  He  could  not  have  ignored  this 
assumption ;  he  could  not  have  said — "  The  King  and  Queen 
and  all  about  the  court  have  thought  me  mad,  but  I  am  not 
mad  at  all ;  I  have  been  only  pretending  to  be  so ;  I  killed 
your  father  by  mistake,"  &c.  &c.,  entering,  in  fact,  into  a  long 
explanation  of  that  which  it  was  imperatively  necessary  ho 
should  keep  concealed.  The  madness  which  he  alleges,  as  his 
excuse,  before  Claudius  and  the  others  is  the  madness  which 
he  had  assumed  ;  but  there  was  another  madness,  the  "  sore 
distraction"  into  which  the  tragic  calamities  that  had  darkened 
his  young  life  had  driven  him,  the  terrible  anguish  of  mind 
which  .he  felt  on  hearing  with  such  awful  suddenness  of  his 
beloved  Ophelia's  death.  It  was  not  untruthful  of  him  to 
say  that  he  had  killed  Polonius,  and  had  raved  against  Laertes 
by  the  side  of  his'  sister's  grave,  when  in  such  a  state  of 
mental  agitation  as  might  well  be  held  .to  excuse  him  from 
any  guilty  intention.  I  do  not  see  how  Hamlet  could  pos- 
sibly make  a  more  open  confession,  under  the  circumstances, 
than  he  does  in  the  last  four  lines.  It  was  such  a  confession 
as  might  have  induced  Laertes  to  question  him  further  when 
alone ;  but  it  was  not  a  deliberate  piece  of  falsehood,  nor  was 
it  so  wanting  in  thoroughness  and  magnanimity  but  it  should 
have  forced  the  most  relentless  spirit,  however  greatly 
wronged,  to  pause  in  its  work  of  vengeance. 

The  answer  of  Laertes  is  a  perfect  marvel  of  hypocrisy ; 
one  can  hardly  comprehend  how  any  man  could  speak  such 
words  to  a  friend  whom  he  was  about  to  murder  : 

LA.ER.  I  am  satisfied  in  nature, 

Whose  motive,  in  this  case,  should  stir  me  most 

H 


106  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

To  my  revenge  :  but  in  my  terms  of  honour 
I  stand  aloof,  and  will  no  reconcilement, 
Till  by  some  elder  masters  of  known  honour 
I  have  a  voice  and  precedent  of  peace, 
To  keep  my  name  ungored.     But  till  that  time 
I  do  receive  your  offer'd  love  like  love 
And  will  not  wrong  it. 
HAM.  I  embrace  it  freely, 

And  will  this  brother's  wager  frankly  play. 

It  would  really  seem  from  the  second  sentence  of  this 
speech  that  Laertes  had  forgotten  the  double  treachery  which 
lie  and  Claudius  had  planned  ;  for  it  was,  humanly  speaking, 
impossible  that  Hamlet  could  escape  with  his  life,  and  yet 
Laertes  talks  seriously  here  of  appealing  to  a  court  of  honour. 
It  was  hardly  worth  his  while  to  invent  such  a  piece  of 
wanton  duplicity  ;  and  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  this  is 
either  an  oversight  of  the  poet's,  or  that  he  means  us  to  1111- 
derstand  that  Laertes  had  in  his  rage  consented  to  this 
treachery,  but  that  in  his  inmost  mind  he  never  had  realised 
its  execution.  This  speech,  if  intentionally  untrue,  shows  a 
depth  of  falsehood  almost  incredible  in  one  so  young  as 
Laertes  ;  it  is  just  what,  had  his  better  nature  prevailed,  we 
should  have  expected  him  to  say  to  Hamlet,  and  I  believe 
that  we  must  suppose  him  to  have  forgotten,  at  the  time  he 
spoke  it,  how  base  a  part  he  was  about  to  play. 

Hamlet  is  full  of  gracious  courtesy  and  elegant  compli- 
ment, as  if  endeavouring  to  efface  from  the  minds  of  all  who 
had  witnessed  it  his  violent  behaviour  in  the  churchyard. 
Kven  for  Claudius  he  has  a  gentle  and  polite  answer  : 

HAM,  Very  well,  my  lord  ; 

Your  grace  has  laid  the  odds*  o'  the  weaker  side. 

There  is  a  wonderful  skill  and  power  in  the  tragic  touches 
of  this  last  scene  which  we,  who  know  what  is  going  to 
happen,  are  apt  to  overlook.  What  can  be  more  pathetic 
than  to  see  this  noble-hearted,  generous,  youth  falling  with 
such  unsuspicious  readiness  into  the  treacherous  plot,  and  by 
his  very  fairness  and  courtesy  making  the  guilt  of  his  mur- 
derers appear  so  much  greater  ?  As  unconsciously  he  goes 
to  his  death  all  that  is  most  amiable  in  his  nature  seems  to 

put  forth  itself  :    t.liP  graf-ino-   irflny,  f.lin    CQirinro    vi^f)  ]>[.!'  yArrngg 

t-hn  letter   contempt   for   the   inferior  natures 


*  This  expression  has  given  rise  to  much  needless  comment  and  ingenious 
explanation.  All  that  Hamlet  means  is  that  the  King  has  "backed"  the 
weaker  side  in  "backing  "  him.  la  betting  language  Hamlet  should  have 
said  "  taken  the  odds.  "  The  King  sets  the  matter  right  in  his  answer, 
telling  Hamlet  that,  because  Laertes  had  improved  so  much,  therefore  he 
(the  King)  had  got  odds  instead  of  an  even  bet. 


A  STUDY  OT1  HAMLET.  107 

around  himJiave  all  disappeared  in  the  Hamlet  we  have  now 
before  us  L  and  as  we  conlmsrtdnr- with  the  Hamlet  of  the 
grave  scene,  we  are  forcibly  reminded  of  the  Queen's  beau- 
tiful description  already  quoted.* 

Laertes  would  really  seem  to  deserve  the  playful  reproach 
of  Hamlet — 

you  but  dally ; 

I  pray  you,  pass  with  your  best  violence  ; 
I  am  afearcl  you  make  a  wanton  of  me — 

for  he  scruples,  now  it  is  in  his  hand,  to  use  the  treacherous 
weapon.  It  may  be,  if  he  had  not  committed  himself  so 
deeply  with  Claudius,  in  whose  presence  he  felt  an  ignoble 
shame  at  the  idea  of  seeming  to  flinch  from  his  deadly  pur- 
pose, Laertes'  better  feelings  might  even  now  have  prevailed. 
But  it  is  too  late  :  he  rouses  himself  to  action,  attacks  his 
antagonist  with  the  utmost  vigour,  meeting  with  a  more 
obstinate  and  skilful  defence  than  he  had  anticipated.  At  last 
he  breaks  down  Hamlet's  guard  and  wounds  him ;  both  had 
already  become  somewhat  heated  in  the  struggle,  and  the 
slight  pain  which  Hamlet  would  feel,  though  he  does  not 
notice  it,  would  serve  to  aggravate  his  excitement :  their  play 
becomes  wild,  and  in  the  scuffle  Hamlet  changes  foils  with 
Laertesf  and  wounds  him  in  turn.  So  completely  absorbed 
is  he  in  this  trial  of  skill  that  he  seems  to  have  forgotten  for 
the  moment  everything  else,  and  does  not  even  feel  the  wound, 
or  see  the  blood  to  which  Horatio  draws  attention.  But  he 
is  soon  brought  back  to  a  horrible  consciousness  of  his  tragic 
surroundings,  no  less  than  of  his  own  fate.  His  mother  falls 
on  the  ground  in  agony :  Hamlet's  first  anxiety  is  for  her ; 
he  does  not  even  answer  Horatio's  imjuiry  as  to  himself.  The 
Titanic  hypocrisy  of  Claudius  does  not  even  now  fail  him  ; 
he  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  lie,  however  useless  it 
may  be : 

KING.  She  s wounds  to  see  them  bleed. 

Perhaps  he  thought  Gertrude's  love  would  even  now  be 
stronger  than  aught  else,  and  that  she  would  with  her  dying 
breath  seek  to  conceal  his  infamy.  But  he  is  mistaken  : 

Qt'JiEN.  No,  no,  the  drink,  the  drink, — 0  my  dear  Hamlet, — 
The  drink,  the  drink  !     I  am  po;ao:i'd. 

It  is  fit  that  the  first  denunciation  of  his  treachery,  which 
was  his  death-warrant,  should  come  from  her  who  was  at  once 
the  cause,  and  the  victim,  of  his  heaviest  crime. 

*  Sec  Act  V,,  Scene  1  (lines  272-275). 
f  ftre  Additional  Notes,  No.  17. 


108  A  STUDY   OFJUMLET. 

Laertes  makes  all  the  atonement  now  in  his  power,  and  it 
is  remarkable  that  against  him  Hamlet  neither  expresses,  nor 
feels,  any  resentment.  In  the  few  moments  that  are  left  to 
him  of  life  he  is  all  action ;  the  excitement  sustains  his 
strength,  even  under  the  deadly  effects  of  the  poison,  suffi- 
ciently to  enable  him  to  stab  the  King,  and,  heedless  of  the 
cry  of  "treason"*  and  the  appeal  for  help  which  the  wounded 
wretch  makes,  to  pour  the  poison,  "  temper' d  by  himself," 
down  the  murderer's  throat.  The  entreaty  of  Laertes — 

Exchange  forgiveness  with  me,  noble  Hamlet  : 
Mine  and  my  father's  death  come  not  upon  thee, 
Nor  thine  on  me  ! 

is  frankly  and  generously  answered.  It  may  be  observed 
that  Laertes  makes  no  allusion  to  Ophelia,  and  that  Hamlet 
does  not  stop  to  consider  the  difference  in  degree  of  their 
respective  guilt  before  he  exchanges  forgiveness  with  his 
assassin.  Though  life  is  fast  ebbing  away,  he  yet  has  strength 
to  snatch  the  poisoned  cup  from  Horatio,  who  could  not  bear 
the  idea  of  being  parted  from  his  friend  even  in  death,  and 
to  charge  him  with  the  solemn  duty  of  vindicating  his  good 
name  ;  the  well-known  lines  in  which  with  touching  anxiety 
he  makes  this  last  request  are  so  beautiful  that  I  cannot 
refrain  from  quoting  them  : — 

0  good  Horatio,  what  a  wounded  namo, 

Things  standing  thus  unknown,  shall  live  behind  me  ! 

If  thou  didst  ever  hold  me  in  thy  heart, 

Absent  thee  from  felicity  awhile, 

And  in  this  harsh  world  draw  thy  breath  in  pain, 

To  tell  my  story. 

The  approach  of  the  victorious  Fortinbras,  the  sight  of 
whose  energetic  action  had  so  keenly  rebuked  Hamlet's  indo- 
lent procrastination,  and  the  arrival  of  the  ambassadors  from 
England  with  the  news  of  the  success  of  his  deadly  stratagem 
against  Rosen crantz  and  Guildenstern,  add  to  the  dramatic 
force  of  this  closing  scene. 

Almost  the  last  syllables  he  can  utter  are  devoted  to  prac- 
tical ends  :  there  is  no  moralising  now  ;  anxious  as  he  is  to 
hear  the  fate  of  those  false  friends  on  whom  he  had  taken  so 
terrible  a  revenge,  he  leaves  the  subject  to  urge  with  his 
dying  voice  the  claim  of  Fortinbras  to  the  crown  that  should 


*  The  courtiers  seem  inclined  to  defend  the  King  ;  but  they  are  paralysed 
with  horror  at  the  rapidly  succeeding  tragedies  which  arc  being  enacted 
around  them,  and  cowed  by  the  resistless  impetuosity  of  Hamlet.  That 
Claudius  should  be  slain  before  the  eyes  of  those  whose  servility  he  had 
dfcne  so  much  to  gain,  and  not  a  hand  be  raised  in  his  defence,  is  a  just 
retribution. 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET.  109 

have  beeiijiis_own.  Death  overmasters  him  before  he  can 
complete  his  directions  to  tloratio,  and  he  expires  with  the 
strange  and  pithy  dogma  in  which  his  doubting  creed  is 
summed  up  — 

The  rest  is  silence. 

Neitlierjiope,  nor  despair,  as  to  the  future,  possesses  his  depart- 
ing soul  :  his  religion  is  a  resigned  uncertainty  —  better  than  a 
fretful  doubt,  but  infinitely  below  the  sweet  hope,  and  humble 
trust,  of  a  true  Christian. 

With  the  death  of  Hamlet  the  play  virtually  ends.  Hora- 
tio's farewell  — 

Good  night,  sweet  prince, 
And  flights  of  angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest  ! 

recalls  Hamlet's  own  words,  "  to  die,  to  sleep."  The  entry  of 
Fortinbras  and  the  ambassadors  is  necessary  merely  to  com- 
plete the  story,  We  may,  perhaps,  regret  that  Shakespeare 
never  felt  impelled  to  write  the  speech  of  Horatio  over  the 
bodies  of  Hamlet  and  the  others.  Had  he  done  so,  it  would 
have  formed  a  splendid  parallel  to  that  of  Antony  over  the 
body  of  Csesar. 

"  The  rest  is  silence."  These  are  the  very  words  that  rise 
to  our  lips  as  we  look  back  upon  the  mighty  work  which  we 
have  thus  followed,  step  by  step,  from  its  solemn  beginning 
to  its  tragical  end.  Through  what  scenes  of  infinite  variety 
have  we  travelled  ;  what  marvellous  insight  into  human 
nature  have  we  attained  !  Admiration  may  well  be  dumb, 
for  such  creative  power  as  that  which  called  these  characters 
into  existence  seems  to  us  almost  more  than  human.  The 
mind  may  well  ponder  in  silence  on  the  great  problems  which 
the  history  of  Hamlet  presents  ;  the  soul_magjjHl 

' 


_ 

in  awej,s.siaJiDiiteniplates  thoselnysteries'  whicji  have  wrung 
this  noble  heart  with  such  agony  of  incertitude!  Tt"he  contest 
betweeii~doub~E~find  faith  is  finished  :  and  in  the  boundless 
ocean  of  eternity  this  storm-tossed  spirit,  let  us  trust,  has 
found  rest  and  peace  at  last. 

We  have  traced  his  faltering  steps  from  the  day  when  the 
eager  energy,  and  hungry  love,  of  his  youth  were  paralysed 
and  blighted  by  the  crime  which  robbed  one  parent  of  life, 
and  the  other  of  that  sacred  right  to  love  and  honour,  with* 
out  which  a  mother's  name  is  to  her  son  but  .  a  terrible 
inheritance  of  infamy.  We  have  seen  him,  while  scarcely  able 
to  sustain  the  burden  of  this  groat  sorrow,  yet  laden  in  addi- 
tion with  a  charge  of  vengeance,  which  he  gladly  embraces 
as  a  sacred  duty,  but  perpetually  scruples  to  fulfil.  In  spite 
of  his  constant  hesitation,  of  his  overstrained  conscientious- 


110  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

ness,  of  Ins  fitful  aiid  fruitless  energy,  of  liis  misplaced  tender- 
ness and  his  equally  misplaced  bitterness — in  spite  of  the 
painful  contrast  between  the  vigour  of  his  words  and  the 
feebleness  of  his  actions,  we  have  seen  so  much  that  is  noble, 
and  generous,  and  grand  in.  his  character,  that,  in  spite  of  all 
his  weakness,  we  honour  him  as  much  as  we  love  him.  When 
we  analyse  this  feeling,  we  find  that  our  admiration  for 
Hamlet  is  chiefly  excited  by  the  strong  love  of  virtue  and 
hatred  of  vice  which  never  fail  to  distinguish  him.^and  from 
the  excess_o|  ^vhio.h  hia  vp.ry  worst  faults  arise.  Nor  is  his 
standard  of  right  and  wrong  based  on  that  comfortable  com- 
promise with  Heaven,  which  is  the  foundation  of  the  world's 
morality.  Every  character  in  the  play,  with  the  exception  of 
Horatio  and  Ophelia,  represents  some  type  of  such  morality, 
from  the  plausible  murderer,  Claudius,  to  the  harmless  but 
ridiculous  "  waterfly,"  Osric.  With  all  these  Hamlet  is  in  a 
state  of  antagonism.  It  matters  nothing  that  we  ourselves 
may  not  have  the  courage  to  do  'anything  but  swim  with  the 
stream,  and  bow  our  heads  gracefully  b,efore  the  wind  of 
popular  opinion ;  our  own  pliability  in  no  way  interferes 
with  the  admiration  that  we  feel  for  the  uncompromising  scorn 
with  which  Hamlet  ridicules,  exposes,  and  denounces,  the 
falseness  and  baseness  of  those  around  him. 

What,  then,  is  the  chief  moral  defect  of  Hamlet's  character  ? 
"  L'Amleto  ce  il  dubbio,"  says  Signor  Salvini,*  in  his  musical 
voice,  and  witli  that  charming  manner  which  almost  carries 
conviction  with  it.  "  Doubt  "  or  "  hesitation  "  is  certainly 
one  main  characteristic  of  Hamlet's  nature,  and  it  may  arise, 
in  great  part,  from  his  over-reflective  habit  of  mind.  But  the 
"  diagnosis,"  so  to  speak,  of  this  mental  disease  of  "  hesita- 
tion "  it  is  difficult  to  determine.  It  seems  to  me  that  the 
principal  flaw  in  Hamlet's  character  is  the  want  of  humility, 
and  consequently  of  faith.  I  do  not  mean  that  humility 
which  is  the  brightest  jewel  in  the  martyr's  crown,  that 
patient  and  cheerful  submission  to  every  provocation,  that 
glorious  self-abasement  which  our  Saviour  first  taught  and 
practised ;  but  rather  that  humility -which  is  the  backbone 
of  enthusiasm,  which  consists  of  a  complete  subordination  of 
one's  own  prejudicesjmd  desires  and~wlll  to  some  great  pur- 

*  In  a  conversation  which  I  had  the  privilege  of  enjoying  with  the  great 
1  taliaii  actor,  he  drew  an  eloquent  comparison  between  Hamlet  and  Orestes, 
whose  circumstances  present  so  much  similarity,  while  their  characters  form 
BO  great  a  contrast.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  if  reading  the  story 
of  Orestes  suggested  to  Shakespeare  the  creation  of  Hamlet's  character. 
Horatio,  the  "Pylades"  of  Hamlet,  has  no  parallel  in  the  old  history  of 
Saxo  Orammaticus. 


A    STL'DY    <)F    HAMLET.  Ill 

pose,  and_oL a— belief,  so  thorough  and  unquestioning  in  the 
justice  of  that  purpose,  as  torender  any  hesitation,  in  one's 
efforts  to  accomplish  it,  impossible.  Had  Hamlet  possessed 
this  humility  ho  would  never  have  doubted  for  one  moment 
that  the  Ghost's  charge  of  vengeance  was  to  be  fulfilled  at 
any  cost;  he  would  never  have  thought  of  the  consequences 
to  his  body  or" to  his  soul;  but  wnnld  havp.  npp.nly  slain 
ClaudjusTand  would  have  stood  before  tliejeople  with  the 
blooTTTfesh  on  his  hands,  indifferent  as  to  their  judgment  and 
fearless  of  their  punishment.  Such  humility  does  not  always 
lend  itself  to  the  accomplishment  of  great  or  good  ends;  the 
fanatic  shares  it  with  the  enthusiast,  the  assassin  with  the 
liberator. 

Thp.jvn.Tit-.  nf_fm't,h  in  Ha.in1pt.'a  p.1in.yap.f.gv  is  very  remarkable. 
It  is  true  he  believes  the  Ghost  at  first,  the  more  readily 
because  its  revelation  confirms  his  suspicion  ;  but  he  puts,  off 
acting  on  his  belief  from  clay, to  day,  and  ultimately  reveals 
the  fact  that  he  has  been  harassed  by  doubts  as  to  the  iden- 
tity of  the  Spirit  which  assumed  his  "  noble  father's  person;" 
not  beingjiontent  till  he  had  confirmed  its  statement  by  a 
device  of  his  own  contrivance,  sufficiently  ingenious,  but  not 
infallible,  and  whiclranyrmrey  who  had  real  faith  in  the  super- 
natural messenger,  would  have  thought  it  neither  necessary, 
nor  becoming,  to  employ.  In  many  other  instances  does 
Hamlet  show  how  little  certainty  there  was  in  his  faith  even 
on  the  most  solemn  subjects;  he  does  not  disbelieve,  but 
neither  does  he  believe ;  he  wishes  to  do  -^Jinlhjs  mi  ml  p.nn  , 
not  refrain  from  questioning  everything  which  is  not  capable 
(Dfjabs^lute^roof.^  I  do  not  for  one  moment  believe  that 
Shakespeare  intended  to.  represent  Hamlet  as  an  infidel,  but 
rather  as  one  of  those  men,  whom  we  meet  not  unfrequently 
in  real  life,  who  are  deficient  in  that  intellectual  humility 
which  is  content  to  receive  supernatural  truths  on  some 
grounds  other  than  natural  evidence.  The  moral  natures  of 
such  men  are  frequently  of  the  noblest  and  purest  type  ;  but 
their  practical  power  for  good,  in  this  world,  is  fettered  by  a 
constant  tendency  to  doubt  the  principles  of  their  faith  just 
at  the  very  moment  when  that  prompt  action,  which  can  only 
spring  from  perfect  trust  and  entire  conviction,  is  necessary. 

The  metaphysical  theories  which  have  been  put  forward  as 
explanations  of  the  problem  which  Hamlet's  character  pre- 
sents are  numberless.  Some  of  them  are  ridiculously  far- 
fetched, while  others  are  evolved  more  from  the  writer's  own 
mind  than  from  the  text  of  Shakespeare.  I  do  not  wish  to 
wrest  a  moral  from  this  play,  which  its  contents  do  not  justify, 


A  STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

merely  because  it  may  accord  with  my  own  moral  or  religious 
opinions.  But  I  think  an  unprejudiced  mind  cannot  fail  to 
be  struck  by  the  coincidence  that  this  wonderful  psycholo- 
gical work,  which  seems  to  bear  more  strongly  than  any  the 
impress  of  the  author's  own  mind,  should  have  been  written 
tit  a  time  when  this  country  had  just  broken  away  from  the 
old  Faith,  and  had  abandoned  unquestioning  obedience  to  the 
Church's  authority  for  a  partial  submission  to  private  judg- 
ment. The  Catholic  religion  still  represented,  to  many  who 
had  separated  from  Koine,  all  that  was  definite  in  their  faith  ; 
their  hearts  still  yearned  towards  that  communion,  and  they 
were  trying  to  reconcile  their  consciences  to  a  compromise 
which  was  morally  impossible.  They  could  not  see,  or  they 
would  not  acknowledge,  that  imperfection  is  a  necessary 
quality  of  humanity  ;  and  therefore  that  abuses  and  scandals 
must  exist  as  long  as  the  ministers  and  disciples  of  religion 
are  men  ;  but  that  the  way  to  get  rid  of  these  evils  was  not 
to  break  away  from  the  Church,  but  to  conform  more  rigidly 
to  her  Divine  precepts.  These  men  wished  to  preserve  most 
of  the  dogmas  of  Catholicism,  while  they  reserved  to  them- 
selves the  right  to  reject  the  authority  on  which  their  dogmas 
rested.  The  consequence  was  that  they  involved  themselves 
in  a  moral  dilemma  ;  they  began  by  asserting  that  each  indi- 
vidual was  bound  to  question  the  grounds  of  his  faith  by  the 
aid  of  his  own  reason,  and  that  thus  he  would  arrive  at  truth  ; 
but  having  once  admitted  this  power  of  questioning  what 
claimed  to  be  revelation,  it  was  impossible  to  limit  the  exer- 
cise of  that  power  ;  so  that  many  minds  were  tossed  about 
upon  a  fathomless  sea  of  doubt,  hopelessly  uncertain  which 
way  to  steer,  no  longer  believing  in  their  compass,  and  dis- 
trustful of  the  very  stars  by  which  otherwise  they  might 
have  directed  their  course.  Truth  after  truth,  which  men 
had  long  cherished  as  Divine,  was  condemned  before  a  self- 
constituted  court  of  human  judges,  till  to  some  minds  nothing 
in  this  world  seemed  certain  or  secure ;  and  the  very  founda- 
tions of  Christianity  were  shaken  beyond  repair  by  the  same 
storm  that  had  shattered  the  pinnacles  of  the  edifice. 

Of  such  minds  Hamlet's  is  a  striking  type,  and  the  creation 
of  his  character  might  well  be  the  outcome  of  an  intellect 
perplexed  and  agitated  by  such  doubts  as  I  have  described, 
with  a  yearning  desire  to  be  convinced,  but  with  its  powers 
of  conviction  hopelessly  debilitated. 


APPENDIX 


APPENDIX  A. 

THE   EARLY   LIFE   OF   HAMLET. 

IN  order  that  we  may  understand  more  clearly  the  exact  position 
in  which  Hamlet  was  placed,  and  the  state  of  mind  in  which  we 
find  him  when  first  introduced  upon  the  scene,  I  have  ventured  to 
construct  a  brief  ideal  sketch  of  the  events  which  preceded  the 
death  of  Hamlet's  father.  The  materials  for  this  sketch  I  have 
derived  partly  from  a  study  of  the  play  itself,  and  partly  by 
endeavouring,  to  the  best  of  my  power,  to  bring  my  imagination 
into  harmony  with  the  various  characters  and  events  described  by 
Shakespeare.  Following  the  example  of  Shakespeare,  I  have  not 
attempted  any  strict  accuracy  with  regard  to  the  characteristics  of 
the  exact  period  at  which  Hamlet  may  be  supposed  to  have  lived. 
The  manners  and  customs  as  portrayed  by  Shakespeare  in  this 
play,  though  not  copied  from  those  of  his  own  time,  are  modernised 
sufficiently  to  ensure  the  sympathy  of  his  auditors,  without  losing 
the  picturesqueness  which  belongs  to  antiquity. 

It  was  about  twenty-five  years"  before  the  time  when  the  play 
opens,  that  Hamlet  the  elder,  having  been  challenged  to  single 
combat  by  Fortinbras,|  a  Prince  of  Norway,  defeated  and  slew  his 
challenger ;  thereby  gaining  the  whole  of  Fortinbras'  territory,  which 
he  had  staked  011  the  result  of  this  combat,  against  an  equal  part  of 
the  territory  of  Denmark.  On  the  very  day  when  his  father  achieved 
this  victory,  Hamlet  was  born; if  the  lands  won  by  the  valour  of 
King  Hamlet  remained  in  the  undisputed  'possession  of  Denmark 

*  The  ago  of  Hamlet  is  generally  held  to  have  been  thirty,  chiefly  on  the 
authority  of  the  passage  in  Act  V. ,  Scene  1 ,  where  the  First  Gravediggcr 
says  that  he  had  been  sexton  "  man  and  boy  thiity  years,"  and  that  he  tirst 
came  to  the  trade  the  day  Hamlet  was  born.  But  in  the  Appendix 
I  have  discussed  the  question  as  to  how  far  that  passage  is  to  be 
relied  on  as  an  authoritative  statement  of  Hamlet's  age.  I  believe  Shake« 
speare  intended  him  to  be  about  twenty-five  years  old,  certainly  not  more. 
*  t  Sec  Appendix  N.  +  See  Act  V.,  Scene  1,  lines  135-140. 

I 


114  A  STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

until  the  son  of  Fortinbras,  at  the  date  when  the  play  commences, 
set  out  on  an  expedition,  the  object  of  which,  though  not  openly 
declared,  was  the  forcible  recovery  of  these  same  lands. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  peace  of  Denmark  was  threatened  by 
any  foe  during  the  remainder  of  the  reign  of  King  Hamlet.  The 
proof  which  he  had  given  of  high  personal  courage  endeared  him 
to  all  his  subjects ;  and  it  would  seem  that,  content  with  the  repu- 
tation for  military  valour  which  he  had  thus  gained,  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  education  of  his  only  son,  and  to  pursuits  of  a  more 
contemplative  and  philosophical  nature,  than  those  in  favour  with 
the  majority  of  his  court.'1'  If  his  marriage  with  Gertrude  was 
blessed  by  any  more  offspring,  we  do  not  know  ;  but  as  no  mention  is 
ever  made  by  young  Hamlet  of  any  brother  or  sister,  we  may  presume 
that  he  remained  the  sole  object  of  his  parent's  aifection :  that  he 
was,  in  the  strongest  sense  of  the  term,  his  father's  son,  is  evident ; 
and,  from  the  moment  when  he  began  to  speak,  we  may  imagine 
that  father  and  son  were  nearly  inseparable.  King  Hamlet  doubt- 
less infused  into  the  mind  of  his  darling  boy  that  tendency  to 
dreamy  speculation  which  we  find  so  strongly  developed  in  him  ; 
we  may  be  sure  that  the  father's  energies  were  concentrated 
on  the  education  of  him  who  daily  became  a  more  and  more  con- 
genial companion ;  whose  mind,  expanding  under  the  loving  care 
bestowed  upon  it,  might  even  have  ventured  on  more  ambitious 
nights,  and  penetrated  further  into  that  dim  region  of  fascinating 
mystery,  which  then  enshrouded  the  phenomena  of  nature,  than 
that  of  his  teacher.  Few  indeed  were  the  writers  whom  they  could 
study  together  :  some  ancient  Christian  writings  ;  some  manu- 
scripts of  the  classics  j  the  wild  legends  of  the  various  Norse 
tribes;  the  sagas  banded  down  by  tradition  from  one  half- 
savage  sea-king  to  another ;  a  score  or  so  of  rude  plays,  chiefly 
known  only  in  fragments  and  by  memory  ;  some  few  books 
of  crude  philosophy,  deeply  tinged  with  the  romantic  credulity  and 
legendary  mysticism  of  the  semi-barbarous  authors ;  such,  unless 
we  stretch  anachronism  to  its  furthest  limit,  must  have  been  the 
chief  food  which  nourished  the  eagerly  acquisitive  mind  of  the 
young  Prince.  We  may  add  some  old  chansons  and  ballads,  which 

*  That  he  did  not  abandon  military  exercises  or  habits  might  be  surmised 
from  the  fact  that  his  ghost  appears  in  full  armour  ;  but  it  is  evident  that 
Shakespeare  intended  him  to  appear  in  the  same  guise  as  he  wore  when  he 
overcame  Fortinbras   (see  Act  I.,  Scene  1,  lines  58 — 61). 
MAR.  Is  it  not  like  the  king  ? 

Hon.    As  thou  art  to  thyself  : 

Such  was  the  very  armour  he  had  on 
When  he  the  ambitious  Norway  combated  ; 

Surely  this  passage  places  beyond  all  doubt  the  fact  that  when  the  Ghost 
reappears  in  Act  III.,  Scene  4,  he  should  wear,  not  the  warrior's  suit  of 
mail  that  he  wore  before,  but  some  other  more  peaceful  dress  :  for  this 
reason  Hamlet  says  with  such,  emphasis — 

My  father,  in  his  habit  as  he  lived  ! 

(See  Park  II.,  page  50,  where  I  have  insisted  on  this  point.) 
1 


APPENDIX.  115 

were  preserved  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  few,  if  any,  of  which 
would  exist  in  writing.  It  would  not  be  safe  to  speculate  on  the 
curriculum  of  the  University  of  Wittenbiug,*  but  we  may  safely 
conjecture  that  it  was  not  so  complete  as  the  more  celebrated  one 
of  Gottenburg.  It  must  be  remembered  that  we  are  dealing,  not 
with  that  hopelessly  obscure  shadow,  the  Hamlet  of  Saxo-Gramma- 
ticus,  but  with  Shakespeare's  complex  creation,  the  chronology  of 
which  is  vague  and  fanciful. 

As  to  the  religion  of  Hamlet,  Shakespeare  has  wisely  abstained 
from  any  definite,  details  on  tin ;  poir.t :  there  are  some  expression;-, 
such  as  those  of  the  ghost,  "  uiiliouscrd  "  and  "  miand'cl,"  plainly 
borrowed  from  Catholic  ritual ;  Shakespeare  uses  these  by  poetical 
license  ;  he  probably  intended  us  to  understand  some  rude  form  o' 
Christianity  as  i-:.isting  in  Denmark  at  the  time.t  Hamlet  uses  th-.: 
expression  "  I  will  go  pray;"  and  although  the  poet  has  wisely 
abstained  from  putting  any  dogmatic  expressions  into  the  mouth 
of  his  hero,  it  is  evident  that  Hamlet  was  deeply  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  reverence  for  the  Divine  Creator,  and  with  a  love  of  virtue 
and  a  hatred  of  vice  far  beyond  most  of  his  compeers. 

Let  us  imagine  Hamlet,  now  grown  into  a  handsome  and 
graceful  youth,  the  idol  of  his  father,  the  pride  of  his  mother,  in 
Ophelia's  beautiful  words — 

The  expectancy  and  rose  of  the  fair  state, 
The  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form- 
let  us  picture  how  his  days  were  passed  at  that  grand  old  castle 
of  Elsinore.  Horatio  and  Laertes  were  his  two  most  loved  com- 
panions, with  whom  he  would  engage  in  feats  of  activity  or  trials 
of  skill,  generally  coming  off  the  victor,  except  when  his  dreamy 
nature  got  the  better  of  him ;  and  then  he  would  be  roused  by 
some  sudden  ignominious  defeat,  in  a  bout  with  the  rapiers,  or  a 
tilt  at  the  quintain,  and  would  put  forth  all  his  energy,  wringing 
victory  from  his  worthy  competitors,  who  would  be  the  first  to  join 
in  the  hearty  applause  which  greeted  the  efforts  of  their  darling 
prince.  "We  can  picture  Ophelia  looking  on,  drinking  deeply  of 
that  sweet  poison  of  love,  dreaming  happy  dreams  which  were 
never  to  be  realised.  Later  in  the  day  Hamlet  might  be  wandering 
by  his  father's  side  along  the  edge  of  those  grand  rugged  cliffs  on 
which  the  castle  stood ;  the  two,  sitting  down  and  gazing  into  the 
blue  depths  beneath  them,  recalling  some  wild  legend  of  syrens  or 
mermaids,  or  of  those  weird  monsters  with  which  the  rude 
imagination  of  our  forefathers  peopled  the  sea  ;  sitting,  perhaps,  on 
that  very  spot  to  which,  but  a  few  years  afterwards,  the  armed 

*  The  University  of  Wittenburg  was  not  founded  till  1502  ;  but  in  this 
passage  I  am  supposing  that  such  an  university  existed  in  the  time  of  Hamlet. 
t  See  the  speech  of  Marcellus,  Act  I.,  Scene  1— 

Some  say  that  ever  'gainst  that  season  comes 
Wherein  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated, 
And  also  the  churchyard  scene,  Act  V.,  Scene  1. 

I  '2 


116  A   -STUDY    OF   HAMLET. 

phantom  of  the  father,  "  clad  in  complete  steel,"  led  the  awe-struck 
son  to  listen  to  that  solemn  legacy  of  vengeance  beneath  the 
burden  of  which  he  sank. 

Meanwhile,  slowly  but  surely,  the  seeds  of  misery  and  crime  were 
being  sown  in  that  household  ;  spite  of  that  reverential  fondness  for 
his  wife,  that  noble  love  which  went  "  hand-iii-hand  even  with  the 
vow  he  made  .to  her  in  marriage  ; "  spite  of  his  god-like  beauty  of 
person,  his  sweet  gentleness  of  heart,  Gertrude  was  becoming  day 
by  day  estranged  from  her  husband.  She  could  not  enter  into  the 
dreamy  philosophy  which  was  the  charm  of  his  own  and  of  his  son's 
life  ;  and,  not  unnaturally,  she  would  be  thrown  more  and  more  into 
the  society  of  Claudius,  whose  coarse  and  sensuous  nature  fitted 
him,  much  more  than  his  brother,  to  preside  over  the  rude  hospi- 
talities which  were  a  necessity  of  royal  households  in  .those  days.* 
Claudius  loved  barbaric  splendour  and  show  ;  while  King  Hamlet 
was  nothing  loth  often  to  resign  to  him  his  seat  at  the  head  of 
the  well-spread  board  ;  especially  when  flagon  after  flagon  of  wine 
had  to  be  drained  to  the  health  of  the  noble  guests,  or  in  honour 
of  some  of  the  reigning  beauties.  Gertrude,  woman-like,  lovect 
pageantry  and  revelry  ;  to  her  it  was  dull  to  sit  and  listen  to  war- 
like sagas,  or  wild  legends,  such  as  her  husband  loved  to  hear 
recited  ;  she  grew  day  by  day  to  look  on  the  King  as  a  being  far 
above  her,  and  to  feel  more  and  more  sympathy  with  the  showy 
qualities,  the  animal  spirits,  and  the  plausible  gallantry  of  Claudius, 
who  saw,  in  the  growing  neglect  by  his  brother  of  the  more  orna- 
mental duties  of  his  royal  office,  a  channel  by  which  he  might 
creep  into  popular  favour,  to  court  which  he  spared  no  labour. 

The  contrast  between  the  two  brothers  grew  stronger  with  every 
year  of  the  elder's  reign.  The  qualities  of  King  Hamlet  were  pre- 
cisely those  which  courtiers  and  mob  would  least  comprehend,  or 
value,  in  the  time  of  peace.  When  there  was  any  heroic  deed  of 
valour  to  be,  done,  the  nobility  of  his  nature  would  show  forth 
itself  with  such  splendour  as  completely  to  dazzle  the  eyes  of  all 
the  uncliscerning,  no  less  than  of  the  discerning.  Ihit  as  long  as 
there  were  only  State  ceremonies,  royal  banquets,  or  military  dis- 

*  It  has  occurred  to  me  that  it  is  just  possible  Shakespeare  might  have 
glanced  obliquely  at  Henry  VIII.  in  the  character  of  Claudius.  It  may  be 
said  .that  any  disrespectful  allusion  to  her  father's  marriage  with  his 
brother's  widow  would  not  have  been  tolerated  by  Elizabeth  ;  but  by 
insisting  on  the  incestuous  nature  of  such  an  union  Shakespeare  might  well 
have  expected  to  please  the  daughter  of  Anno  Boleyn,  who  with  all  her 
pride  in  her  father  could  scarcely  have  forgot  the  humiliation  to  which  she 
had  been  subjected  in  her  youth.  1  do  not  for  one  moment  intend  to 
suggest  any  parallel  between  Gertrude  and  the  virtuous  Catherine  of 
Arragon.  Shakespeare  has  done  that  much- wronged  Queen  full  justice  in 
another  play.  The  question  as  to  when  Henry  VIII.  was  first  represented 
would  have  to  be  determined  before  the  conjecture  I  have  hazarded  could 
he  discussed.  But  the  main  features  of  Claudius's  character  are  sufficiently 
like  those  of  the  Great  Tudor  King's  to  render  it  at  least  as  plausible  as 
many  other  conjectures  in  connection,  with  the  prototype?  of  Shakespeare's 
characters. 


A1TKND1X.  117 

plays,  to  vary  the  monotony  of  court  life,  Claudius  could  easily  out- 
shine him,  and  could  win  the  admiration  of  the  vulgar  ;  the  many 
virtues  of  King  Hamlet,  the  lofty  dignity  of  his  presence,  the  noble 
grace  of  his  manner,  were  eclipsed  by  the  supple  condescension, 
the  smiling  familiarity,  the  plausible  good  humour,  of  Claudius. 
We  can  imagine  the  two  brothers  taking  part  in  some  royal  pro- 
cession ;  the  King  riding  by,  with  his  darling  son  by  his  side,  bow- 
ing graciously  in.  acknowledgment  of  the  salutations  of  the  crowd  ; 
but  on  his  beautiful  face  a  far-off  expression,  as  if  he  were  ab- 
sorbed in  some  region  of  thought  higher  than  the  scene  around  him  ; 
smiling  rarely,  save  when  he  turned  towards  the  young  prince  : 
the  crowd  greeted  him,  as  he  ptissed,  with  reverence,  some  with 
love  j  but  their  heartiest  cheers  were  for  the  gorgeously  dressed 
Claudius,  who  followed,  lavishing  on  all  around  him  smiles  that 
seemed  full  of  cordiality  and  kind-heartedness*;  going  out  of  his  way 
to  recognise  some  slight  acquaintance,  or  to  kiss  his  hand  in  com- 
plimentary admiration  of  some  pretty  face  :  full  of  rude  but  good- 
humoured  jests  ;  in  short,  brimming  over  with  those  coarse -animal 
spirits  which  are  so  attractive  to  common-place  minds.  Many  a 
sturdy  Danish  citizen  might  turn  round  to  his  companion  and 
whisper  some  such  words  as  these  :  "  The  King's  all  very  well  in 
his  way,  but  he's  too  solemn  for  me ;  give  me  Claudius,  jovial 
Claudius  ;  "  and  then  would  come  a  shout  of  "  Bravo,  Claudius  !". 

At  court  the  eiforts  of  this  amiable  brother  to  gain  popularity 
were  neither  less  strenuous  nor  less  successful.  He  flattered  and 
cajoled  everyone,  from  the  Lord  Chamberlain  downwards,  making 
it  his  business  to  humour  all  their  weaknesses  and  vanities,  as  well 
as  to  gratify  their  senses  with  grand  banquets  and  lavish  entertain- 
ments. The  growing  unfitness  of  Hamlet  the  elder  for  the  task  of 
government,  his  neglect  of  ceremonies  and  outward  shows,  his  pas- 
sion for  retirement,  and  his  absorption  in  philosophical  studies, 
were  all  brought  into  prominence  :  while  the  eccentric  disposition  of 
the  young  prince  was  good-naturedly  ridiculed ;  his  irresolution, 
his  spasmodic  activity,  his  impulsive  generosity,  his  reckless  uncon- 
ventionality,  were  subjects  of  court  gossip  ;  his  amiability,  his 
noble  and  lovable  nature  were  artfully  praised  ;  while  his  talent  for 
practical  administration,  his  fitness  for  the  duties  of  a  king,  espe- 
cially in  any  crisis  of  the  State,  were  denied.  Before  he 
ventured  to  take  his  brother's  life,  Claudius  had  made  sure  of 
securing  his  crown  with  the  consent  of  the  majority  of  the  servile 
unprincipled  creatures  who  surrounded  the  throne. 

How  long  the  intrigue  between  this  double -traitor  and  the  Queen 
had  been  going  on  before  the  murder  of  King  Hamlet  we  have  no 
means  of  ascertaining.  No  doubt  passion  had  less  to  do  with  the 
crime  of  Claudius  than  ambition  ;  he  saw  that  an  intrigue  with  his 
brother's  Queen  would  secure  for  him  a  very  important  ally  in  his 
designs  on  the  throne  ;  her  manifest  partiality  for  him  suggested 
the  idea  of  compromising  her  so  far  as  to  render  his  pretension  to 


118  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

her  husband's  place  on  the  throne,  as  well  as  in  her  heart,  one 
which  she  at  least  could  never  oppose.  It  is  likely  that  as  their 
intimacy  became  closer,  and  they  became  bound  by  the  almost  in- 
dissoluble tie  of  mutual  guilt,  Claudius  came  to  conceive  as  much 
affection  for  Gertrude  as  his  selfish  and  debased  nature  could  enter- 
tain for  any  human  being  ;*  but  his  love  was  never  so  absorbing  or 
self-devoted  as  to  offer  any  excuse  for  his  crime. 

Having  secured  the  affection,  or  the  caprice,  or  the  passion  of 
Gertrude — by  whichever  term  we  may  choose  to  designate  that 
vicious  impulse  which  teaches  women  but  too  often  to  betray  a 
generous  and  loving  husband  for  the  sake  of  a  mean  and  selfish 
lover — and  having  laid  the  foundations  of  a  popularity,  both  with 
the  common  people  and  the  courtiers,  sufficient  to  warrant  his 
usurpation-j-  of  the  crown  in  the  event  of  the  King's  death,  it  only 
remained  for  Claudius  to  bring  about  that  event  in  such  a  manner 

*  If  we  are  to  believe  his  own  words  to  Laertes,  he  was  completely  en- 
thralled by  his  love  (Aob  IV.,  Scene  7).  Laertes  has  asked  why  Claudius 
did  not  proceed  against  Hamlet  for  having  attempted  his  life,  to  which  the 
King  answers — 

O,  for  two  special  reasons, 

"Which  may  to  you  perhaps  seem  much  unsinew'd, 

But  yet  to  me  they're  strong.     The  queen  his  mother* 

Lives  almost  by  his  looks  ;  and  for  myself — 

My  virtue  or  my  plague,  be  it  either  which — 

She's  so  conjunctive  to  my  life  and  soul, 

That,  as  the  star  moves  not  but  in  his  sphere, 

I  could  not  but  by  her. 

But  as  he  had  already  taken  the  mosfe  treacherous  steps  to  procure  the  death 
of  Hamlet,  it  is  evident  that  his  tender  dread  of  wounding  Gertrude's  feel- 
ings on  that  point  was  not  so  strong  but  that  prudential  reasons  might 
overcome  it ;  and,  as  he  goes  on  to  allege  another  reason  why  he  shrank 
from  punishing  Hamlet,  namely,  the  affection  entertained  for  him  by  the 
people,  we  shall  not  be  doing  Claudius  a  great  injustice  if  we  believe  that 
the  latter  reason  was  the  more  cogent  one  of  the  two.  We  have  another 
incident  in  the  play  by  which  we  can  test  the  strength  of  the  love  which 
Claudius  bore  to  Gertrude  :  in  the  last  scene  of  all,  when  the  Queen  takes  up 
the  poisoned  cup,  surely  a  man  who  loved  her  so  passionately  and  devotedly, 
as  from  the  above  declaration  to  Laertes  we  should  expect  to  find  Claudius 
did,  would  have  dashed  the  cup  out  of  her  hand,  before  she  could  drink  from 
it,  at  any  risk  :  but  he  contents  himself  with  exclaiming — 

Gertrude,  do  not  drink. 

It  may  be  said  that  dramatic  exigency  is  responsible  for  this,  as  the  Queen 
was  to  be  killed  somehow  or  other,  and  this  was  the  easiest  way  ;  but  I  do 
not  believe  the  end  of  this  play  to  be  careless  or  haphazard  work  on  Shake- 
speare's part ;  I  believe  it  to  be  carefully  planned  and  consistent,  and  that 
we  must  regard  Claudius  as  being  so  intent  upon  his  treacherous  design 
against  the  life  of  Hamlet  that  he  cares  for  little  else. 

^  I  have  used  the  word  usurpation,  though  the  crown  of  Denmark  might, 
as  Steevens  and  others  maintain,  have  been  an  elective  one  ;  yet  I  cannot 
but  think  that  Shakespeare  intended  to  represent  the  kingdom  of  Denmark 
as  possessing  the  same  legalised  custom  which  existed  in  most  other 
countries— namely,  that  the  eldest  son,  failing  any  actual  disqualification, 
should  succeed  to  the  crown.  The  coronation  of  Claudius  might  have  been 
sanctioned  by  the  Council  only  on  condition  that  Hamlet  should  be  recog- 
nised as  his  successor. 


APPENDIX,  11'.) 

as  not  to  excite  the  suspicions  of  the  most  influential  persons 
around  the  throne. 

In  order  to  carry  out  the  last  part  of  his  scheme,  the  absence  of 
Prince  Hamlet  was  necessary ;  whether  that  was  effected  at  the  in- 
stigation of  Claudius,  or  by  the  voluntary  act  of  the  Prince  himself, 
does  not  appear.  It  is  possible  that  he  had  been  at  Wittenberg  some 
time  when  he  received  the  news  of  his  father's  death,  but  it  is  more 
probable  that  he  had  returned  there  after  a  short  stay  at  Elsinore,* 
during  which  his  love  for  Ophelia  had  taken  more  definite  shape, 
and  had  even  been  allowed  to  grow  insensibly  into  an  engagement 
by  which,  though  no  troth  had  been  absolutely  pledged  by  either, 
each  felt  silently  bound  to  the  other.  As  yet  there  had  been  110 
interference  with  their  love,  but  during  this  last  stay  of  Hamlet's 
at  Elsinore  the  suspicions  of  Polonius  had  been  aroused,  -j-  The 
letter  |  which  he  reads  to  the  King  (Act  II.,  Scene  2),  if  not 
written  from  Wittenberg,  was  sent  to  Ophelia  by  Hamlet  shortly 

*  This  may  seem  at  variance  with  what  f  have  said  in  the  text  (page  16 
near  the  bottom  of  page),  but  I  only  intended  there  to  express  my  belief 
that  Hamlet's  boyhood  and  youth,  up  to  the  time  of  his  going  to  the  Uni* 
versity,  were  passed  in  his  father's  palace, 
f  Polonius  says,  Act  L,  Scene  3,  lines  91*95-^- 

'Tis  told  me,  he  hath  very  oft  of  late 

Given  private  time  to  you,  and  you  yourself 

Have  of  your  audience  been  most  free  and  bounteous  : 

If  it  be  so— as  so  'tis  put  on  me, 

And  that  in  way  of  caution — 

which  would  seem  to  be  at  variance  with  what  he  says  to  the  King,  Act  II., 
Scene  2,  lines  131-133 — 

When  I  had  seen  this  hot  love  on  the  wing, — 

As  I  perceived  it,  I  must  tell  you  that, 

Before  my  daughter  told  me, — 

It  may  be  that  Hamlet's  attachment  to  Ophelia  seemed  of  little  importance 
to  the  courtiers  and  others  during  the  life  of  the  King  his  father,  but 
assumed  greater  importance  now  that  the  young  prince  was  acknowledged 
by  all  parties  to  be  in  the  position  of  heir-  apparent  to  the  throne.  The 
expression,  '  of  late, '  cannot  be  held  to  refer  to  the  very  short  period  which 
had  elapsed  since  the  death  of  the  King  ;  for  it  is  not  probable  that  being 
in  the  state  of  dejection  in  which  we  iind  him,  Hamlet  would  have  found 
time  to  pay  such  marked  attentions  to  Ophelia  as  to  arouse  suspicions,  for 
the  iirst  time,  of  his  relations  towards  her. 
I  This  letter,  it  may  be  remembered,  runs  thus  :— 

'To  the  celestial,  and  my  soul's  idol,  the  most  beautified  Ophelia,' —  . 

'  In  her  excellent  white  bosom,  these,'  &c. 

t  ....*••• 

'  Doubt  thou  the  stars  are  fire  ; 
Doubt  that  the  sun  doth  move  ; 
Doubt  truth  to  be  a  liar  ; 
But  never  doubt  I  love. 

'  0  dear  Ophelia,  I  am  ill  at  these  numbers  ;  I  have  not  art  to  reckon  my 
groans  :  but  that  I  love  thee  best,  0  most  best,  believe  it.     Adieu. 

'  Thine  evermore,  most  dear  lady,  whilst  this 
machine  is  to  him,  HAMLET.  ' 


120  A   STUXY   OF   HAMLET. 

after  the  period  at  which  the  piay  opens ;  ana  was  probably 
given  to  Polonius  by  her  in  the  interval  between  Act  II.,  Scene  1, 
and  the  subsequent  Scene.  It  is  the  only  letter  which  Ophelia 
seems  to  have  shown  to  her  father,  and  considering  its  affected 
style  and  brevity,  we  may  conclude  that  she  made  less 
objection  to  showing  it  than  she  would  have  made,  if  it  had 
been  expressed  in  more  natural  language.  This  letter,  indeed,  pre- 
sents many  difficulties  :""  it  would  almost  seem,  at  first  sight,  to  be 
written  purposely  to  puzzle  those  into  whose  hands  it  might  fall, 
and  impress  them  with  an  idea  of  the  writer's  being  out  of  his 
mind  ;  but  a  much  more  probable  explanation  is,  that  it  was 
written  in  answer  to  some  self-reproach  or  remonstrance  from 
Ophelia  on  account  of  his  apparent  neglect  of  her,  and  under  the  con- 
straint of  the  great  shock  his  mind  had  received,  when  he  could 
not  even  turn  his  thoughts  towards  the  object  of  his  love  without 
great  effort.  It  is  plain,  from  Ophelia's  language,  Act  II.,  Scene  1— 

as  you  did  command, 
I  did  repel  his  letters  and  denied 
His  access  to  me — 

that  Hamlet,  after  the  letter,  did  not  abandon  his  suit  ;-j-  so  that  all 
question  as  to  the  sincerity  of  this  letter,  whatever  be  its  date,  is 
set  at  rest.  Of  the  effect  likely  to  be  produced  upon  Hamlet's  mind 
by  this  enforced  coldness  of  Ophelia  at  such  a  time,  I  have  spoken 
in  the  text  (page  25). 

But  let  us  revert  to  the  condition  of  affairs  when  Hamlet  left  for 
Wittenberg.  The  parting  between  father  and  son  was,  doubtless, 
a  most  sad  one*;  in  the  mind  of  the  younger  there  might  be  some 
strange  foreboding,  indefinite  in  shape,  never  uttered,  but  centred 
in  the  person  of  that  uncle  whose  plausible  cordiality  was  less  likely 
to  deceive  a  keen-witted  young  man,  and  one  who  had  such  a  de- 
testation of  insincerity  as  Hamlet  had  :  but  this  suspicion  was  con- 

*  See  Appendix  D.  In  the  Quarto,  1603,  Polonius  distinctly  says  that 
it  was  owing  to  the  discovery  of  this  letter  that  he  forbade  Ophelia 
to  hold  anymore  intercourse  with  Hamlet.  Sec  Allen's  Reprint  of  "The 
Devonshire  Hamlets,"  p.  33  : 

CORAMBLS  (i.e.  POLONIUS).  Now  when  I  saw  this  letter,  thus  I  bespake 
my  maiden : 

Lord  Hamlet  is  a  prince  out  of  your  starre, 
And  one  that  is  unequall  for  your  love  : 
Therefore  I  did  command  her  refuse  his  letters, 
Deny  his  tokens,  and  to  absent  herself e,'1  &c. 

This  difference  is  very  striking,  and  cannot  have  arisen  from  any  mere 
carelessness  in  transcription. 

t  The  '  letters  '  mentioned  by  Ophelia  probably  contained  appeals  to  her 
sympathy  and  remonstrances  with  her  on  account  of  her  coldness  to  him  : 
it  is  only  fair,  in  estimating  Hamlet's  conduct  to  Ophelia,  to  remember  how 
inexplicable  to  him  must  have  appeared  her  obstinate  silence  at  such  a  time. 
Ophelia's  implicit  obedience  to  her  father  is  a  most  important  point  in  her 
character. 


AITKNDIX.  ^ 

fined  to  Claudius  ;    not  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  besmirched  the 
lustre  of  his  mother's  purity. 

His  darling  boy  gone,  the  lonely  father,  surrounded  by  uncon- 
genial minds,  turned  back  with  a  heavy  heart  to  the  home  which 
had  lost  its  dearest  charm.      True,   his    queen   was   there  ;    but 
while  his  manner  to  her    was    always   tender,   gentle,    and   full 
of  that  dignified  courtesy  which  noble  natures  ever  display  towards 
women,  he  could  not  but  feel  there  was  something  lacking.     Medi- 
tative natures  are  not  the  least  selfish  :  philosophy,  '  divine  con- 
templation/ mystic  dreaminess,  usurped  more  and  more    of    his 
time  ;  his  thoughts  soared  farther  and  farther  away  from  that  narrow 
spot  of  earth  where  such  a  terrible  tragedy  was  preparing,  of  which 
he  himself  was  to  be  the  first  victim.     Gertrude  found  it  easier  to 
silence  the  voice  of  conscience  the  more  she  was  left  to  the  two 
alternatives,   solitude,  or  the  companionship  of  Claudius  ;  passion 
makes  but  short  work  of  idle  hours  ;  where  the  mind  lacks  resources 
the  devil's  work  is  easy  :  the  treacherous  brother  left  her  no  time 
to  think  ;  the  slightest  sigh  of  remorse,  the  slightest  tremor  of 
guilt,  was  smothered  with  fervid  kisses,  or  crushed  by  the  pressure 
of  a  devoted  hand.     The  time  was  come  to  destroy  the  only  ob- 
stacle to  his  ambition  and  to  his  passion — the  opportunity  was 
easily  found.     llegularly,  after  his  frugal  meal  was  finished,  the 
King  would  steal  away  from  the  table,  glad  to  escape  from   the 
revelry  which  he  detested,  and  snatch  an  hour's  repose  in  the 
privacy  of  his  orchard  :  to  follow  him  unobserved  was  easy ;  the 
poison  is  poured  into  the  ear  of  the  unsuspecting  sleeper  ;  the  mur- 
derer repairs  to  the  banqueting  room,  and  the  carouse  is  prolonged, 
so  that  as  much  time  may  elapse  as  possible  before  any  search  may 
be  made  for  the  King  :  his  absence  would  not  be  observed  till 
evening  came  ;  the  body  is  found :  no  mark  of  violence  is  visible  ; 
from  some  quiet  corner  the  rumour  is  set  about  that  poisonpus 
snakes  have  been  seen  in  the  orchard  ;  that  the  King  has  received 
his  death-wound  from  one ;  the  superstitious  horror,  attaching  to 
those  reptiles,  makes  this  suggestion  readily  received ;  due  lamen- 
tation is  made  by  the  living ;  due  honours  are  paid  to  the  dead. 
'.  Claudius  receives  the  Court  with  a  well-compounded  expression  of 
grief  and  patriotic  anxiety  on  his  features,  and  a  large  mourning- 
cloak  wrapped  round  his  form — a  pattern  of  brotherly  affliction  ; 
while  the  widow  at  home  keeps  her  waiting- women  well  employed 
as  spectators  of,  and  ministers  to,  her  passionate  lamentation. 

But  little  now  remains  to  be  done  to  bring  the  excellent  Clau- 
dius' plans  to  perfection.  The  young  prince  is  away  at  college  ; 
the  times  are  troublous ;  danger  threatens  the  State  ;  a  firm  hand 
is  needed  to  guide  the  helm  :  the  young  Hamlet  is  amiable,  clever, 
no  one  has  a  word  to  say  against  his  character,  but — is  he  the 
man  for  the  hour  ]  What  if  Claudius  would  act  as  regent  ?  or, 
could  he  be  persuaded  to  step  in,  and  save  the  throne  threatened 
by  the  attack  of  the  fiery  young  Fortinbras  1  The  heart-broken 


122  A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

brother  lays  aside  his  heavy  mourning-cloak,  and  listens  graciously 
to  the  entreaties  of  the  patriotic  courtiers;  he  loves  his  nephew  de- 
votedly, as  he  loved  his  dear  lost  brother — but  he  loves  his  country 
more — still  he  fears  the  cares — the  burdens  of  royalty — just  now — 
might  be  too  heavy  for  him.  If  the  widowed  Queen  would  but  let 
him  try  and  fill  his  brother's  place !  if  she  would  consent  to  a  marriage 
with  her  son's  natural  guardian  !  the  succession  would  be  secured 
to  that  son,  and  the  throne  saved  from  all  dangers.  But  no  time 
must  be  lost — Fortinbras  and  his  desperate  levies  are  on  the  point 
of  embarking ;  instant  preparation  for  war  must  be  made.  The 
people  have  no  time  to  think.  The  nobles  of  the  court  are  so 
bewildered  with  cajoleries  and  gorged  with  bribes,  small  wonder  if 
their  respectable  consciences  are  caught  napping.  In  the  bustle  of 
fitting  out  men  and  ships,  and  forging  implements  of  war,*  busy 
natures  find  their  immediate  and  safest  employment ;  Claudius  is 
crowned  king  ;  the  hasty  wedding  takes  place,  so  hastily  that  there 
is  no  leisure  to  reflect  upon  its  propriety  ;  and  when  Hamlet 
arrives  in  sorrowful  haste  from  Wittenberg, -|-  yearning  to  throw 
himself  into  his  mother's  arms,  and  weep  upon  her  sympathising 
breast,  he  finds  that  breast  palpitating  with  the  emotions  of 
an  affianced  bride ;  he  finds  the  father's  brother  has  proved  a 
more  effectual  comforter  than  the  father's  son  can  ever  hope  to  be. 

*  See  Act  I.,  Scene  1,  Marcellus'  speech,  lines  70—78: 

tell  me,  he  that  knows, 

Why  this  same  strict  and  most  observant  watch 
So  nightly  toils  the  subject  of  the  land, 
And  why  such  daily  cast  of  brazen  cannon, 
And  foreign  mart  for  implements  of  war  ; 
Why  such  impress  of  shipwrights,  whose  sore  task 
Does  not  divide  the  Sunday  from  the  week  ; 
What  might  be  toward,  that  this  sweaty  haste 
Doth  make  the  night  joint-labourer  with  the  day  : 

t  That  Hamlet  was  absent  from  Elsinore  at  the  time  of  his  father's 
murder  we  cannot  doubt ;  for  he  could  not  have  been  so  ignorant  of  the 
alleged  circumstances  of  his  father's  death  as  he  appears  to  have  been  from 
the  care  with  which  the  Ghost  impresses  them  upon  him  in  their  solemn 
interview.  Nor  can  we  conceive  that  Claudius'  plot  could  have  met  with 
the  success  it  did  had  not  the  young  Prince  been  absent  :  the  King's  allusion 
to  his  desire  to  return  to  Wittenberg  (Act  I.,  Scene  2,  lines  112-113)  points 
to  the  same  conclusion.  But  that  he  must  have  arrived  in  time  for  the 
funeral  would  appear  from  his  allusion  in  the  first  soliloquy  to  Gertrude's 
demeanour  (Act  I.,  Scene  2,  lines  147-149)— 

or  ere  those  shoes  were  old 
With  which  she  follow'd  my  poor  father's  body, 
Like  Niobe,  all  tears  :  — 

and  still  more  from  the  lines  in  Hamlet's  speech  to  the  Ghost  (Act  I., 
Scene  4,  lines  47-48)— 

why  the  sepulchre, 
Wherein  ire  saw  thee  quietly  inurn'd, 

which  would  seem  to  set  the  question  at  rest.  The  use  of  the  word  '  cere- 
ments '  shows  that  the  body  was  embalmed,  so  that  the  funeral  need  not 
have  taken  place  till  some  days  after  the  death. 


APPENDIX.  1 23 

AVlio  can  contemplate  unmoved  tho  agony  of  this  generous 
young  heart  ? — the  very  faintest  portraiture  thereof  fills  us  with 
sympathetic  grief  as  we  gaze  on  it.  It '  was  not  that  hence- 
forth he  was  pareiitless,  nay,  worse  ;  it  was  not  that  he  had 
suddenly  lost  one  who  had  been  to  him  friend,  brother,  father, 
almost  a  god;  it  was  not  the  miserable  regret,  so  vain,  yet 
so  gnawing,  that  the  last  farewell  had  never  been  spoken;  it 
was  not  that  where  he  might  have  hoped  to  find  the  gentlest 
consolation,  he  found  the  cruellest  aggravation  of  his  sorrow :  it 
was  that  in  her — who  should  have  been  the  spotless  mirror  on 
which  he  might  behold  his  grief  reflected  with  a  grandeur  and  a 
purity,  the  very  first  glimpse  of  which  would  transform  him  from 
the  heart-broken,  despairing  mourner  into  the  courageous  and  hope- 
ful comforter — it  was  that  in  the  widowed  mother,  standing  before 
him,  decked  in  bridal  robes,  with  wanton  smiles  glaring  on.  the 
scarce-dried  traces  of  hypocritical  tears,  he  saw  every  feeling  that 
man  should  hold  most  dear  and  most  sacred,  he  saw  every  idea  of 
goodness,  of  fidelity,  of  purity,  of  love,  that  should  nourish  the  life-- 
blood of  man's  heart — all  these  he  saw  deformed,  blasphemed, 
drenched  in  such  a  torrent  of  filthy  associations,  that  few  could 
blame  the  son  if  he  rushed  from  the  presence  of  that  incestuous 
wife  and  infamous  mother,  a  very  fiend ;  without  hope,  without 
mercy,  without  belief  in  aught  good  or  pure,  ripe  for  every  crime 
and  dead  to  every  virtue. 

It  is  necessary  to  realise  the  fearful  shock  which  Hamlet's  moral 
nature  has  sustained,  before  the  play  opens,  in  order  thoroughly 
to  comprehend,  much  more  to  represent,  his  character. 


APPENDIX  B. 

ON  HAMLET'S  FIRST  SOLILOQUY. 

I  have  thought  it  better  to  relegate  to  the  Appendix,  for  the 
most  part,  siich  observations  on  the  various  soliloquies  as  I  may 
desire  to  make,  the  more  especially  as  I  shall  attempt  to  give  some 
hints  as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  should  be  delivered. 

The  soliloquy  is  one  of  the  finest  tests  of  the  genius  of  a  dra- 
matic writer.  Imagination  may  devise  ingenious  plots  ;  Wit  or 
Pathos  may  produce  brilliant  or  moving  dialogue  ;  Talent  may 
construct  good  plays ;  but  Genius  alone  can  create  character — 
Genius  alone  can  dissect  the  inner  workings  of  a  man's  mind ;  and 
this  is  what  a  soliloquy,  to  be  worth  anything,  must  do.  If  we 
compare  the  best  of  his  contemporaries,  or  of  succeeding  dramatists, 
with  Shakespeare  in  this  respect,  we  shall  see  at  once  his  immense 
superiority.  Perhaps  the  soliloquies  of  Hamlet  are  finer  than  even 
those  of  Macbeth  and  Othello ;  certainly  the  character  is  one 
which  lends  itself  more  readily. to  that  form  of  dramatic  treatment. 
But  if  to  write  a  soliloquy  is  difficult,  to  deliver  it  is  no  less  so  ; 


124  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

and  it  is  in  this  point  that  most  actors  who  attempt  the  role  of 
Hamlet  most  utterly  fail.  The  impression  produced  on  me  by 
nearly  all  the  Hamlets  I  have  seen  on  the  stage,  when  they  com- 
menced a  soliloquy,  has  been  that  they  were  going  to  "  speak  a 
piece,"  as  the  Americans  say  ;  that  they  had  composed  an  harangue 
which  was  to  be  delivered  at,  and  to,  the  audience ;  not  that  they 
were  in  any  way  giving  utterance  to  the  perplexities  of  their  mind 
or  to  the  feelings  of  their  heart.*  Nor  in  many  tragedies,  especially 
modern  ones,  is  the  actor  to  blame,  for  the  words  he  has  to  speak 
in  soliloquy  are  too  often  set  orations,  and  not  thoughts  uttered 
aloud  ;  but  in  representing  Hamlet  no  one  can  urge  this  excuse. 

In  this  very  soliloquy  how  natural  are  the  sentiments,  how 
spontaneous  and  unstudied  the  words,  how  unforced  are  the  transi- 
tions !  And  so  it  is  with  all  the  subsequent  ones  in  this  play — the 
language  is  such  a  correct  and  life-like  transcription  of  Hamlet's 
thoughts  that  we  almost  forget  that  the  character  is  fictitious. 

It  is  a  matter  for  the  actor's  own  choice  whether  he  should  be 
seated  or  standing  at  the  commencement  of  this  soliloquy.  If 
Hamlet  has  been  sitting,  as  he  naturally  would  be,  during  the 
preceding  portion  of  the  scene,  he  might  remain  so  without  any 
discourtesy  to  the  King  and  Court,  or  to  the  Queen  and  her  ladies ; 
indeed,  it  would  be  more  consonant  with  his  absorption  in  sorrow 
that  he  should  forget  to  rise  when  the  others  do. 

As  Claudius  passes  out,  with  Gertrude  by  his  side,  he  stops  for  a 
moment  and  looks,  half  curiously,  half  angrily,  at  the  unmoved 
figure  of  Hamlet.  He  stands  between  him  and  his  mother,  as  -if 
fearful  lest  she,  in  an  outburst  of  tenderness,  should  draw  from 
him  a  confession  of  his  secret  thoughts — some  dangerous  suspicion, 
perhaps,  of  that  "  foul  play  "  which  haunts  the  guilty  conscience  of 
Claudius  ;  then  follow  the  courtiers,  laughing  and  talking  to  .one 
another,  utterly  indifferent  to  Hamlet's  grief  or  to  the  tragic  cir- 
cumstances which  caused  it ;  Ophelia,t  who  has  been  watching  the 
dejected  visage  of  her  lover  with  tender  anxiety,  lingers  behind  the 
rest,  and  is  about  to  lay  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder  when  Laertes 
checks  her  and,  with  a  look  of  kindly  remonstrance,  leads  her  out 
of  the  audience-chamber.  Hamlet,  unconscious  of  all  that  is  pass- 
ing, remains  wrapped  in  his  melancholy  thoughts  till  the  last 
footfall  has  died  away.  Then  with  a  deep  sigh  he  raises  his  head, 
and  in  a  subdued  but  earnest  voice  he  utters  that  prayer  for 
annihilation —  'O^o^o^- 

0,  that  this  too  too  solid  flesh  would  melt, 
Thaw  and  resolve  itself  into  a  dew  ! 

*  This  was  written  before  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Irving,  whose 
treatment  of  the  soliloquies  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of  a 
marvellously  intellectual  performance. 

f  Was  Ophelia  meant  to  be  present  during  this  scene  ?  In  the  second, 
third,  and  fourth  Folios  her  name  is  inserted  ;  in  the  Quartos  (except  1603) 
it  might  be  included  in  "  Cum  Aliis."  It  would  certainly  add  to  the  interest 
of  the  scene  if  she  were  present,  and  I  can  see  no  objection  to  such  an 
arrangement  as  the  one  I  have  sketched  out. 


.V1TKNDIX.  1^5 

Truly  to  him  the  body  is  the  prison  of  the  soul,  and  the  walls 
which  enclose  her  seem  terribly  solid.  Hamlet's  is  not  one  of 
those  frail  bodies  which  grief  sometimes  inhabits  ;  in  which  "  the 
soul  seems,"  as  Fuller  says,  "  to  peep  through  the  chinks  of  her 
prison-house."* 

The  solemn  words  that  follow — 

Or  that  the  Everlasting  had  not  fix'd 
His  canon  'gainst  self -slaughter  ! 

show  that  Hamlet  was  no  infidel,  though  his  faith  was  enervated 
by  doubts.  There  is  deep  pathos  in  that  cry — 

0  God  1  God  ! 

How  weary,  stale,  flat  and  unprofitable 
Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world  ! 

It  is  a  cry  that  many  of  us  have  uttered  in  the  agonising  perplexity 
caused  by  the  apparent  triumph  of  Evil  around  us.  It  is  to  be 
noted  how  the  words  here  echo  the  sense.  Too  much  pains  cannot 
be  bestowed  on  the  utterance  of  these  lines.  I  have  heard  them 
spoken  with  such  a  deep  thrill  of  despair  in  the  voice  as  to  be 
indeed  awful.  The  exclamation  • 

Fie  on't  !  .ah  fie  ! 

has  been  variously  interpreted.  Edmund  Kean  applied  them  to 
the  conduct  of  Gertrude  ;  but  they  seem  more  naturally  to  be 
directed  against  the  world.  The  actor  might  rise  here  from  his 
seat,  and  after  the  words 

Possess  it  merely. 

pause  a  little  ;  then,  taking  one  or  two  paces  to  and  fro,  as  a  man 
will  do  when  the  mind  is  on  the  rack,  he  exclaims — 
That  it  should  come  to  this  ! 

That  all  the  love  and  tenderness  which  his  father  had  lavished  On 
Gertrude  should  be  so  rewarded  !  that  her  fond  caresses  should 
come  to  be  such  bitter  mockeries  !  that  all  the  honour,  the  happi- 
ness, the  peace,  the  pride  of  his  home,  should  be  thus  rudely 
shattered  !  What  art,  and  what  nature,  in  that  hasty  correction  of 
his  own  words — 

nay,  not  so  much,  not  two  : 

followed  by  the  outburst  of  praise  of  his  father's  qualities,  first  as 
king,  then  as  husband — 

so  loving  to  my  mother, 

That  he  might  not  beteem  the  winds  of  heaven 

Visit  her  face  too  roiighly . 

There  never  was  a  more  beautiful  picture  of  conjugal  tenderness 
than  this.  I  would  caution  the  actor  here  against  showing  any 
tenderness  in  his  voice  at  the  word  "  mother  ";  Hamlet  so  loathes 
the  conduct  of  his  mother,  he  is  £0  overpowered  by  the  disgust 
which  her  base  treason  to  his  father's  memory  inspires  in  him  that 

;;  I  am  bound  to  say  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  verify  this  quotation. 


120  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

he  can  hardly  bear  to  mention  her  name.     Even  when  he  has 
received  the  strongest  injunction  from  his  father's  spirit  to  treat 
her  with  gentle  consideration  he  finds  it  very  difficult  to  obey. 
The  exclamation 

Heaven  and  earth  ! 
Must  I  remember  ? 

is  one  of  the  most  impassioned  in  the  whole  range  of  tragedy. 
Hamlet  breaks  off  in  his  description  of  his  father's  tenderness  ;  the 
picture  is  more  than  he  can  bear ;  he  would  raze  out  of  his  mind 
all  record  of  the  past,  but  the  tyranny  of  memory  cannot  be 
shaken  off: — 

why,  she  would  hang  on  him, 
As  if  increase  of  appetite  had  grown 
By  what  it  fed  on  :  and  yet,  within  a  month — 

It  was  not  alone  the  perfection  of  his  father's  love  to  her,  the 
sweet  solicitude,  the  ever-watchful  protection  with  which  he 
cherished  her — but  her  demonstrative  affection  for  him,  her  cling- 
ing dependence  on  the  husband,  who  has  been  dead  only  a  month, 

and  she Hamlet  cannot  bring  himself  to  give  a  name  to  her 

deed.     Once  more,  in  vain,  he  tries  to  put  the  fact  away  from  him 
— he  tries  in  a  general  sarcasm  to  dismiss  the  very  thought  of  it — 
Frailty,  thy  name  is  woman  ! — 

but  his  mind  returns  to  it,  and  his  indignation  is  heightened  by  a 
fresh  detail — 

ere  those  shoes  were  old 

With  which  she  follow' d  my  poor  father's  body, 

Like  Niobe,  all  tears  :  — 

a  most  beautiful  detail  it  is — probably  the  result  of  Hamlet's  own 
observation  at  the  funeral.  Again  he  breaks  off  with  a  stronger 
expression  of  indignation  against  his  mother's  conduct  : 

0  God  !  a  beast,  that  wants  discourse  of  reason, 
Would  have  mourn' d  longer, — 

Then,  with  the  utmost  contempt,  he  at  last  gives  a  name  to  her 
crime — 

married  with  my  uncle, 

My  father's  brother,  but  no  more  like  my  father 

Than  I  to  Hercules  : 

The  contrast  between  the  tenderness  with  which  he  pronounces  the 
name  of  "  father,"  and  the  loathing  with  which  he  utters  that  of 
"  uncle,';  is  most  marked,  and  there  is  a  noble  scorn  in  the  last  words 
repudiating  any  resemblance  between  them.  It  adds  greatly  to  the 
effect  of  this  passage,  if  the  actor  gives  to  the  simile,  used  here  by 
Hamlet,  an  air  of  natural  spontaneity  by  a  slight  hesitation  after  the 
words  "  Than  I  to — ,"  as  if  the  speaker  were  trying  to  think  of 
what  he  was  most  unlike;  then  adding  "  Hercules"  with  an  emphasis, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  There  could  be  no  two  persons  more  dissimilar 
than  I,  the  sensitive,  hesitating,  meditative  Hamlet,  and  Hercules, 
the  ideal  of  physical  strength  and  ^perseverance  in  overcoming 


APPENDIX.  127 

tremendous  obstacles."  On  the  stage  the  next  four  lines  are  generally 
omitted;  but  with  no  little  injury  to  the  completeness  of  the  speech, 
as  indignation  and  scorn  begin  here  to  give  way  to  that  pathos 
which  culminates  in  the  last  two  lines.  How  fine  is  the  expression — • 

the  salt  of  most  unrighteous  tears. 
With  a  righteous  awe  of  such  an  infamy  Hamlet  exclaims — 

0,  most  wicked  speed,  to  post 
With  Such  dexterity  to  incestuous  sheets  ! 

He  is  exhausted  with  the  vehemence  of  his  feelings,  and  gloomy 
forebodings  as  to  the  future  once  more  fill  his  mind  : 

It  is  not,  nor  it  cannot  come  to  good  : 

then,  sinking  into  his  chair,  as  he  feels  at  once  the  mightiness  of 
Evil  around  him,  and  his  own  powerlessness  to  crush  it,  he  utters 
that  touching  lamentation — 

But  break,  my  heart,  for  I  must  hold  my  tongue  ! 


APPENDIX  C. ' 

ON    THE   SOLILOQUY,    "  0   ALL   YOU   HOST   O$   HEAVEN  !  " 

This  soliloquy  is  not  a  long  one  ;  but  it  is  a  very  important  one. 
It  is  the  key-note  to  that  wild  perturbaiaon  of  mind  in  which  Hamlet 
remains  during  the  rest  of  this  act.  The  vehement  aspiration  with 
which  it  commences — 

0  all  you  host  of  heaven  !  0  earth  !  what  else  ? 
And  shall  I  couple  hell  ? 

is  succeeded  by  the  expression — -  (*      t 

0,  fie  !  *,0*U    V^A 

which  recalls  to  our  memories  the  words  in  the  former  soliloquy — 

Fie  on't  !  ah  fie  ! 

Here  the  exclamation  may  be  taken  in  two  ways  ;  either  as  a  self- 
rebuke  for  the  mention  of  hell,  or  as  a  reproach  directed  against  his }( 
own  weakness  on  the  part  of  Hamlet.     I  think  the  latter  the  best 
interpretation,  especially  if  we  consider  the  words  which  follow 
immediately — 

Hold,  hold,  my  heart ; 
And  you,  my  sinews,  grow  not  instant  old, 
But  bear  me  stiffly  up. 

The  next  words — 

Remember  thee  ! 

are  spoken  with  intense  pathos,  and  the  repetition  of  them  with  still 
greater  intensity.  From  this  moment  Hamlet  wishes  to  become  a 
man  of  one  idea  only  ;  self-indulgence,  ambition,  love,  must  have  no 
longer  any  place  in  his  mind — 

And  thy  commandment  all  alone  shall  live 
Within  the  book  and  volume  of  my  brain, 
Unmix'd  with  baser  matter  : 


ll'S  A  STUDY   OF   IIAMLKT. 

Then  comes  the  climax  of  the  oatli — 

yes,  by  heaven  ! 

After  this  there  is  a  pause  ;  first  the  baseness  of  his  mother's  con- 
duct recurs  to  his  agitated  mind  ;  then  we  have  an  outburst  against 
the  King,  his  uncle,  which  contains  a  key  to  the  character  of  that 
villain — a  key  which  no  manager,  or  actor,  or  commentator  ever 
seems  to  have  seized — namely,  the  fact  that  the  distinguishing- 
feature  of  Claudius  was  his  bland  and  amiable  plausibility — 

0,  villain,  villain,  smiling,  damned  villain  ! 
My  tables, — meet  it  is  I  set  it  down, 
That  one  may  smile,  and  smile,  and  be  a  villain  ; 
At  least  I'm  sure  it  may  be  so  in  Denmark. 

The  stage  direction  (Writiiuj),  which  follows  here,  shows  that 
Hamlet  was  intended  to  record  something  of  what  preceded  on  his 
tablets,  and  the  very  fact  of  his  doing  so  is  a  proof  of  the  nervous 
agitation  under  which  he  laboured ;  his  furious  indignation  against 
his  uncle  found  vent  in .  this  mere  act  of  writing  him  down  a 
"  smiling  villain."  The  words — 

So,  uncle,  there  you  are, 

are  spoken  as  hi-  puts  the  tablets  up  ;  then  recovering,  by  a  gn\it 
effort,  command  over  himself,  he  speaks  with  solemn  emphasis  the 
lines — 

Now  to  my  word  ; 

It  is  'Adieu,  adieu  !  remember  me.' 

I  have  sworn't. 

drawing  his  sword  at  the  last  words,  and  devoutly  kissing  the  cross 
which  forms  the  handle. 


APPENDIX  D. 

ON    THE   CHARACTER   OF    OPHELIA. 

I  SHOULD  have  thought  that  the  slight  allusion  I  have  made  in 
the  text  to  the  question  of  Ophelia's  purity  was  more  than  sufficient, 
but  I  am  astonished  to  find  that  persons,  whose  intellect  at  any  rate 
entitles  them  to  respect,  have  held,  and  do  still  hold,  that  she  was 
Hamlet's  mistress.  I  cannot  imagine  that  they  have  studied  the  text 
of  the  play  with  any  care  or  reverence  ;  but  it  is  the  characteristic 
of  our  enlightened  age  to  be  sceptical  of  good  and  credulous  of  evil. 
In  such  an  age  it  is  an  easier  task  to  make  men  believe  that  Ophelia 
was  unchaste,  because  in  her  distraction  she  sings  some  verses  of  an 
impure  song,  than  to  prove  to  them  from  a  close  study  of  what  she 
says,  and  what  is  said  about  her,  when  in  her  right  senses,  that  she 
was  chaste.  We  shall  be  told  that  we  know  so  many  women  are 
bad,  but  can  only  believe  that  many  arc  good.  Faith  in  any  tiling, 


APPENDIX.  129 

except  onr  own  wisdom,  is  one  of  those  superstitions  which  it  is  the 
mission  of  philosophy,  as  nineteenth-century  philosophers  understand 
it,  to  crush.  The  views  of  Ophelia's  character,  adverse  to  her  purity, 
vary  from  the  uncompromising  assertion  of  her  having  yielded  to 
Hamlet's  solicitations,  to  the  sensuo-romantic  portrait  of  her  drawn 
by  Goethe,  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  approved  by  Gerviuus.  As  an 
instance  of  the  first  opinion  I  may  mention  the  answer  of  a  great 
French  actor — the  son  of  a  greater,  whose  name  is  associated  with 
one  of  the  finest  representations  of  Hamlet  ever  given  in  a  foreign 
tongue — who,  when  asked  if  he  believed  that  Ophelia  had  been 
seduced  by  Hamlet,  replied,  "  Out,  je  crois  qu'il  e'tait  heureux  dans 
ses  amours."  This  is  so  characteristic  of  the  Parisian — in  contra- 
distinction to  the  Frenchman — who  believes  that  the  final  cause  of 
every  woman's  creation,  whether  single  or  married,  is  to  sacrifice 
her  honour  to  the  fascinations  of  some  '  clier  cjarcon ' — himself,  of 
course,  if  he  tries.  It  is  only  when  the  theory  is  practically  illus- 
trated by  the  wives  of  their  own  vanity  that  these  irrepressible 
creatures  object  to  the  practice. 

The  best  way  to  treat  this  question  will  be  to  give,  first,  the 
passages  from  Gervinus  and  Goethe  which  bear  upon  it ;  secondly, 
the  passages,  in  the  play  itself,  on  which  I  rely  for  the  complete 
vindication  of  Ophelia's  purity. 

This  is  the  passage  in  Gervinus,*  a  very  beautiful  passage,  with 
the  latter  part  of  which  I  thoroughly  agree,  but  some  of  the  con-1 
elusions  in  which  I  think  quite  unjustifiable  : — 

"  Still  more  reproachable  does  Hamlet  appear  to  us  in  his  relation  to  his 
beloved  one.  Goethe  said  of  Hamlet's  feeling  for  Ophelia,  that  it  was  without 
conspicuous  passion.  The  poet  has  at  any  rate  not  exhibited  him  to  us  in  a 
position  in  which  this  passion  appears  pre-eminent.  When  he  casts  his  love 
in  the  scale  with  that  of  forty  thousand  brothers,  the  exaggeration  of  the 
tone  affords  no  standard.  Beyond  this  passage,  Shakespeare  has  only  once 
allowed  him  a  direct  opportunity,  in  a  few  aside-spoken  words,  to  give  us 
the  key  to  his  feeling  for  Ophelia,  in  those  words  which  precede  his  conver- 
sation with  her — 'Nymph,  in  thy  orisons  be  all  my  sins  remembered  ! ' — 
words  which  we  have  heard  uttered  by  famous  actors  strangely  enough  in  a 
tone  of  comical  or  facetious  address.  On  the  other  hand,  this  very  conver- 
sation affords  the  actor  scope  sufficient  to  intimate  indirectly  the  nature  of 
Hamlet's  feelings  for  Ophelia.  If  the  actor  does  not  here  'tear  the  passion 
to  tatters,'  he  will  bring  the  spectator  in  this  scene  into  a  heavy  and 
profound  sadness,  the  very  mood  in  which  the  conversation  leaves  Ophelia  ; 
it  is  the  farewell  of  an  unhappy  heart  to  a  connection  broken  by  fate  ;  it  is 
the  serious  advice  of  a  self-interested  lover,  who  sends  his  beloved  to  a 
nunnery  because  he  grudges  her  to  another,  and  sees  the  path  of  his  own 
future  lie  in  hopeless  darkness.  All  that  in  his  treatment  of  Ophelia's 
father,  in  his  disregard  of  her  brother,  in  his  coldness  and  indifference 

*  "Shakespeare  Commentaries."  By  Dr.  G.  G.  Gervinus.  Translated 
by  F.  E.  Bunnett.  New  edition,  revised  by  the  translator.  Smith  and 
Elder.  1875.  Pages  579-580. 

K 


130  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

towards  Polonius,  aye,  even  in  her  own  death,  may  appear  heartless  and 
inconsiderate,  is  consistent  even  with  a  predominant  passion  for  Ophelia  in 
this  strange-natured  man.  His  mother  regarded  this  connection  as  serious 
in  spite  of  the  inequality  of  station  between  the  two  lovers  ;  his  oaths  to 
Ophelia  we  cannot  indeed  consider  in  Hamlet  as  incipient  deception.  As  a 
son  he  loved  his  father  with  enthusiastic  reverence,  without  being  able  to  do 
anything  for  him  for  the  sake  of  love,  and  his  mother  also,  without  being 
able  to  adhere  to  his  father's  exhortation  not  to  torment  the  weak  and 
deluded  woman.  Thus  he  may  also  have  loved  Ophelia  with  a  warm  heart, 
without  contradicting  the  apparently  most  contradictory  quality  of  his 
nature,  that  cold  egotism  with  which  he  torments  her  first  with  his  madness, 
then  leaves  her,  and  after  the  unhappy  death  of  her  father,  devoid  of 
sympathy  and  sensible  to  nothing  but  his  own  misery,  abandons  her  to 
despair  and  insanity.  We  must  seek  the  counterpart  to  these  traits  of 
character  in  the  history  of  the  affections  of  equally  gifted  beings,  in  whose 
unfortified  souls  we  shall  not  unfrequently  meet  with  this  blending  of  the 
most  sensitive  feeling  and  cold  hard-heartedness.  These  very  traits  will  afford 
us  moreover  the  key-note  for  Hamlet's  intercourse  with  Ophelia.  At  his 
first  approach,  inexperienced  and  unsuspicious,  she  has  given  him  her  heart  ; 
she  has  been  free  in  her  audience  with  him,  so  that  neighbours  perceiving  it 
have  warned  the  family,  and  the  family  have  warned  herself  ;  his  conver- 
sation with  her  is  equivocal,  and  not  as  Romeo,  Bassanio,  or  even  Proteus 
have  spoken  with  their  beloved  ones.  This  has  infected  her  imagination 
with  sensual  images,  and  inspired  her  in  her  quiet  modesty  with  amorous 
passions  ;  this  is  apparent  in  the  songs  she  sings  in  her  delirium,  and  in  the 
significant  flowers  she  distributes,  as  clearly  as  anything  so  hidden  in  its 
nature  can  and  may  be  unveiled.  Further  than  this  we  would  not  venture 
to  go  with  Goethe's  apprehension  of  this  character.  Far  less  can  we  accept 
those  other  views,  which  returned  to  the  rude  legend  in  '  Saxo  Grammaticus,' 
regarding  Ophelia  as  a  fallen  innocent.  It  would  not  have  been  in  accordance 
with  the  fine  feeling  of  Shakespeare  to  have  made  the  brother  utter  those 
sublime  words  over  the  corpse  of  such  a  fallen  one,  when  the  priest  would 
fain  refuse  her  '  sanctified  ground  ' — 

A  ministering  angel  shall  my  sister  be, 

When  thou  liest  howling. 
It  would  not  have  been  like  the  poet  to  say  expressly  over  her  grave  :— 

From  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh 

May  violets  spring  ! 

It  would  indeed  have  been  a  frivolous  insult  to  innocence  in  the  most  solemn 
place  and  moment." 

Goethe's  theory  of  the  character  of  Ophelia  and  of  her  relations  to 
Hamlet  is  found  in  the  following  passages  of  "  Wilhelm  Meister,"  * 
which  I  give  in  their  entirety  : — 

*  Goethe's  "Wilhelm  Meister's  Apprenticeship."  Translated  by  R. 
Dillon  Boylau,  Esq.  1872.  Bohn's  Standard  Library.  I  have  quoted 
from  this  translation  as  being  more  generally  accessible  than  Carlyle's, 
though  the  latter  undoubtedly  more  faithfully  represents  the  original. 
Where  there  is  any  important  difference  between  the  two  I  have  given 
Carlyle's  version  in  the  footnotes. 


APPENDIX.  131 

Aurelia  exclaimed,  "You  owe  us  the  conclusion  of  Hamlet.  I  do  not 
wish  to  press  you,  for  I  am  anxious  that  my  brother  should  hear  you  as 
well  as  myself,  but  pray  let  me  hear  your  thoughts  about  Ophelia." 

" There  is  not  much  to  be  said  about  her,"  replied  Wilhelm,  "for  her 
character  is  drawn  by  a  few  master-strokes.  Her  whole  existence  flows  in 
sweet  and  ripe  sensation.  Her  attachment  to  the  prince,  to  whose  hand 
she  may  aspire,  flows  so  spontaneously,  her  affectionate  heart  yields  so 
completely  to  its  impulse,  that  both  her  father  and  brother  are  afraid,  and 
both  give  her  plain  and  direct  warning  of  her  danger.  Decorum,  like  the 
thin  crape  upon  her  bosom,  cannot  conceal  the  motions  of  her  heart,  but 
on  the  contrary  it  betrays  them.  Her  imagination  is  engaged,  her  silent 
modesty  breathes  a  sweet  desire,  and  if  the  convenient  goddess  Opportunity 
should  shake  the  tree,  the  fruit  would  quickly  fall."  * 

"And  then,"  said  Aurelia,  "when  she  sees  herself  forsaken,  rejected 
and  despised,  when  everything  is  overturned  in  the  soul  of  her  distracted 
lover,  and  he  offers  her  the  bitter  goblet  of  sorrow  in  place  of  the  sweet 
cup  of  affection " 

"Her  heart  breaks," — Wilhelm,  "the  entire  edifice  of  her  being  is 
loosened  from  its  hold,  the  death  of  her  father  knocks  fearfully  against  it, 
and  the  whole  structure  is  overturned."  (Book  IV.,  Chapter  XIV.) 

And— 

"Permit  me  to  ask  you  a  question,"  said  Aurelia.  "I  have  again 
examined  Ophelia's  part,  and  I  am  pleased  with  it,  and  feel  sure  that  upon 
certain  conditions  I  should  be  able  to  act  it.  But  tell  me,  is  it  not  your 
opinion  that  the  poet  ought  to  hare  written  songs  of  a  different  kind  for  the 
insane  maiden  ?  And  might  we  not  for  this  purpose  even  select  a  few 
fragments  from  some  of  our  own  melancholy  ballads  ?  Expressions  of 
double  meaning  and  indelicate  allusionsf  do  not  become  the  pure  lipa  of  a 
noble-minded  girl." 

"My  good  friend,"  said  Wilhelm,  "even  upon  this  point,  I  cannot 
coincide  with  you.  A  deep  meaning  is  concealed  in  these  peculiarities  and 
in  this  impropriety.  Have  we  not  an  intimation  from  the  very  beginning 
of  the  play  of  the  subject  with  which  the  thoughts  of  the  maiden  are 
engaged  ?  She  pursues  her  course  in  silent  secrecy,  but  without  being  able 
wholly  to  conceal  her  wishes  and  her  longing.  The  voice  of  desire  has 
echoed  within  her  soul,  £  and  she  has  often  tried  like  an  unskilful  nurse  to 
lull  her  senses  to  repose  with  ballads,  which  have  only  kept  her  more 
awake.  But  at  length  when  all  self-control  is  at  an  end,  and  the  secrets  of 
her  heart  appear  upon  her  tongue,  that  tongue  betrays  her,  and  in  the 
innocence  of  her  madness,  even  in  the  presence  of  royalty  she  takes  delight 
in  the  echo  of  her  loose  but  dearly-loved  songs  of  '  The  maiden  whose  heart 


*  Carlyle  thus  renders  this  passage:  "Her  fancy  is  smit ;  a  silent 
modesty  breathes  amiable*  desire  ;  and  if  the  friendly  goddess  Opportunity 
should  shake  the  tree,  its  fruit  would  fall. 

t  "  Lascivious  insipidities  "  (Carlyle). 

J  "  The  tones  of  desire  were  in  secret  ringing  through  her  soul "  (Carlyle). 

K2 


132  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

was  won,1    'The  maid  who  stole  to  meet  the  youth,'  and  so  forth." 
(Book  IV.,  Chapter  XVI.) 

Now  let  us  see  what  Shakespeare  makes  the  various  characters 
jn  the  play  say  to,  and  of,  Ophelia. 

This  is  how  her  brother  speaks  to  her.  (Act  I,  Scene  3,  lines  5-10) : 

JjAEii.  For  Hainlet,  and  the  trifling  of  his  favour, 
Jlold  it  a  fashion,  and  a  toy  in  blood, 
A  violet  in  the  youth  of  primy  nature, 
forward,  not  permanent,  sweet,  not  lasting, 
The  perfume  and  suppliance  of  a  minute  ; 
No  more. 
OPH,  No  more  but  so  ? 

Mark  here  the  sweet  simplicity  of.  her  words.  She  does  not  fly 
into  a  passion  with  her  brother  for  the  low  estimate  he  takes  of 
her  lover's  constancy  and  of  her  own  worthiness.  There  is  a  quiet 
confidence  in  her  own  belief,  a  gentle  rebuke  to  his  worldly 
scepticism,  which  Laertes  does  not  perceive,  in  this  truly  virginal 
remonstrance. 

LjiER.  Think  it  no  more  : 

For  nature  crescent  does  not  grow  alone 
In  thews  and  bulk  ;  but,  as  this  temple  waxes, 
The  inward  service  of  the  mind  and  soul 
Grows  wide  withal.     Perhaps  he  loves  you  now ; 
And  now  no  soil  nor  cautel  doth  besmirch 
The  virtue  of  his  will :  but  you  must  fear, 
His  greatness  weigh'd,  his  will  is  not  his  own  ; 
For  he  himself  is  subject  to  his  birth  : 
He  may  not,  as  unvalued  persons  do, 
Carve  for  himself,  for  on  his  choice  depends 
The  safety  and  health  of  this  whole  state, 
And  therefore  must  his  choice  be  circumscribed 
Unto  the  voice  and  yielding  of  that  body 
Whereof  he  is  the  head.     Then  if  he  says  he  loves  you, 
It  fits  your  wisdom  so  far  to  believe  it 
As  he  in  his  particular  act  and  place 
May  give  his  saying  deed  ;  which  is  no  further 
Than  the  main  voice  of  Denmark  goes  withal. 
Then  weigh  what  loss  your  honour  may  sustain, 
If  with  too  credent  ear  you  list  his  songs, 
Or  lose  your  heart,  or  your  chaste  treasure  open 
To  his  unmaster'd  importunity. 
Fear  it,  Ophelia,  fear  it,  my  dear  sister, 
And  keep  you  in  the  rear  of  your  affection, 
Out  of  the  shot  and  danger  of  desire. 
The  chariest  maid  is  prodigal  enough, 
]f  she  unmask  her  beauty  to  the  moon  : 
Virtue  itself  'scapes  not  calumnious  strokes  : 
The  canker  galls  the  infants  of  the  spring 
Too  oft  before  their  buttons  be  disclosed, 
And  in  the  morn  and  liquid  dew  of  youth 
Contagious  blastments  are  most  imminent* 
Be  wary  then  ;  best  safety  lies  in  fear  : 
Youth  to  itself  rebels,  though  none  else  near. 

Now  the  whole  of  this  speech  is  accepted  by  Gervinus  and 


APPENDIX.  133 

Goethe,  in  perfect  gftod  faith,  as  the  wise  counsel  given,  not  before 
it  was  needed,  to  a  sister  who  had  been  too  free  in  her  intercourse 
with  a  young  prince,  his  friend.  They  entirely  miss  the  exquisite 
satire  of  Shakespeare  who,  in  this  speech,  makes  the  chivalrous  but 
worldly  son  imitate  his  pragmatical  and  time-serving  father.  The 
impudence  of  such  a  speech,  the  contemptible  narrowness  of  mind 
which  it  exhibits,  the  low  view  of  women,  all  consistent  with  the 
character  of  Laertes,  a  high-spirited  but  unprincipled  young  man, 
who  spent  most  of  his  time  in  France — then  as  now  the  country 
of  pleasure  and  the  head-quarters  of  philosophical  libertinism — 
quite  escape  them.  Let  us  listen  to  the  gracious  dignity  of 
Ophelia's  answer  : 

OPII.  I  shall  the  effect  of  this  good  lesson  keep, 

As  watchman  to  my  heart.     But,  good  my  brother, 
Bo  not,  as  some  ungracious  pastors  do, 
Show  me  the  steep  and  thorny  way  to  heaven, 
Whilst,  like  a  puff'd  and  reckless  libertine, 
Himself  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance  treads 
And  recks  not  his  own  rede. 

What  can  be  more  nobly  pure  than  the  character  of  this  maiden? 
With  what  true  modesty  she  sets  aside  the  ignoble  suspicions  of 
her  chastity  which  her  brother  had  uttered  !  Critics  have  failed  to 
see  the  art  with  which  Shakespeare  here  delineates  the  self -conceited, 
shallow-principled  character  of  Laertes,  preparing  us  for  the  con- 
summate treachery  to  which  he  deliberately  lends  himself  at  the 
end  of  the  play.  Surely,  if  this  man  had  possessed  one  grain  of 
true  nobility  of  character,  he  must  have  taken  his  sister  to  his  arms, 
or,  not  feeling  himself  worthy  of  such  familiarity,  must  have  knelt 
at  her  feet  and  thanked  her  for  such  a  loving  rebuke.  What 
does  he  answer  ?  In  the  true  spirit  of  intolerant  self-conceit  he 
puts  her  sweet  counsel  aside  with  these  arrogant  and  careless 
words — 

LAER.  0,  fear  me  not. 

I  stay  too  long  : 

As  he  is  going  he  reverts  with  astounding  insensibility  to  his 
former  speech  : 

LAER,  Farewell,  Ophelia,  and  remember  well 
What  I  have  said  to  you. 

Her  answer  is  full  of  nothing  but  the  tenderest  humility  : 

OPH.  'Tis  in  my  memory  lock'd, 

And  you  yourself  shall  keep  the  key  of  it. 

Now  we  come  to  the  all-wise  Polonius'  advice  to  his  daughter  — 
the  man  who  was  fresh  from  bowing  before  an  incestuous  usurper  : 
POL.  What  is't,  Ophelia,  he  hath  said  to  you  ? 
OPH.  So  please  you,  something  touching  the  Lord  Hamlet. 
Marry,  well  bethought  : 
'Tis  told  me,  he  hath  very  oft  of  late 
Given  private  time  to  you,  and  you  yourself 
Have  of  your  audience  been  most  free  and  bounteous  : 


134  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

.  •     .  If  it  be  so— as  so 'tis  put  on  me, 

And  that  in  way  of  caution— I  must  tell  you, 

You  do  not  understand  yourself  so  clearly 

As  it  behoves  my  daughter  and  your  honour. 

What  is  between  you  ?  give  me  up  the  truth. 
OPH.  He  hath,  my  lord,  of  late  made  many  tenders 

Of  his  affection  to  me. 
POL.  Affection  !  pooh  !  you  speak  like  a  green  girl, 

Unsifted  in  such  perilous  circumstance. 

Do  you  believe  his  tenders,  as  you  call  them  ? 
OPH.  I  do  not  know,  my  lord,  what  I  should  think. 
POL.  Marry,  I'll  teach  you  :  think  yourself  a  baby, 

That  you  have  ta'en  these  tenders  for  true  pay, 

Which  are  not  sterling.     Tender  yourself  more  dearly  ; 

Or — not  to  crack  the  wind  of  the  poor  phrase, 

Running  it  thus — you'll  tender  me  a  fool. 
OPH.  My  lord,  he  hath  importuned  me  with  love 

In  honourable  fashion. 

The  same  sweet  patience,  the  same  heavenly  humility,  distin- 
guishes all  her  answers,  till,  at  last,  tried  beyond  all  bearing  by 
the  silly  coarseness  of  her  ridiculously  self-complacent  father,  she 
looks  up,  and  checks  his  ribaldry  by  a  dignified  vindication  "of  her 
lover's  conduct.  It  would  seem  that  even  the  triple  armour  of 
Polonius1  vanity  was  not  proof  against  this ;  for  he  can  only  reply 
with  a  very  commonplace  observation,  being  a  little  checked  in 
his  flow  of  worldly-wise  oratory  : 

POL.    Ay,  fashion  you  may  call  it ;  go  to,  go  to. 
OPH.   And  hath  given  countenance  to  his  speech,  my  lord, 
With  almost  all  the  holy  vows  of  heaven.    - 

6 

Ophelia  will  not  be  stopped  in  her  defence  of  her  lover.  To 
her  the  fact  that  Hamlet  had  used  "  almost  all  the  holy  vows  of 
heaven"  meant  rather  more  than  it  did  to  the  wise  old  counsellor 
who  had  taken  the  same  oath  of  allegiance  to  Claudius,  without  the 
slightest  scruple,  as  he  had  to  the  dead  King,  and  that  in  spite  of 
the  suspicious  circumstances  of  his  old  master's  death,  and  the  more 
than  suspicious  marriage  of  Claudius  with  his  brother's  widow. 
However,  the  plausible  old  proser  has  soon  taken  breath,  and  is  off 
again,  careering  among  his  fine-sounding  platitudes  : 

POL.    Ay,  springes  to  catch  woodcocks.     I  do  know, 
When  the  blood  burns,  how  prodigal  the  soul 
Lends  the  tongue  vows  ;  these  blazes,  daughter, 
Giving  more  light  than  heat,  extinct  in  both, 
Even  in  their  promise,  as  it  is  a-making, 
You  must  not  take  for  fire.     From  this  time 
Be  something  scanter  of  your  maiden  presence  j 
Set  your  entreatments  at  a  higher  rate 
Than  a  command  to  parley.     For  Lord  Hamlet, 
Believe  so  much  in  him,  that  he  is  young, 
And  with  a  larger  tether  may  he  walk 
Than  may  be  given  you  :  in  few,  Ophelia, 
Do  not  believe  his  vows  ;  for  they  are  brokers, 
Not  o£  that  dye  which  their  investments 
But  mere  implorators  of  unholy  suits, 


APPENDIX.  135 

Breathing  like  sanctified  and  pious  bawds, 
The  better  to  beguile.     This  is  for  all  : 
I  would  not,  in  plain  terms,  from  this  time  forth, 
Have  you  so  slander  any  moment  leisure, 
As  to  give  words  or  talk  with  the  Lord  Hamlet. 
Look  to't,  I  charge  you  :  come  your  ways. 
OPII.  I  shall  obey,  my  lord,  [Exeunt. 

No  bitter  word,  no  thought  or  threat  of  rebellion — he  is  her 
father,  '  tedious  old  fool'  though  he  be — and  she  knows  nothing 
which  can  justify  her  disobedience  to  him. 

The  object  of  this  scene  seems  to  be  this;  to  show  how  completely 
Hamlet's  character  was  misunderstood  by  those  who  should  have  , 
known  him  best,  and  how  completely  uncongenial  must  have  been 
liis  surroundings  at  the  Court  of  Denmark,  even  if  the  terrible 
events  of  the  last  two  months  had  not  taken  place.  The  conven- 
tional standard  of  virtue  which  Polonius  and  Laertes  held,  and 
which  was  the  only  standard  of  right  and  wrong  they  knew,  is 
here  clearly  expressed.  What  a  contrast  between  their  speeches 
and  Hamlet's  soliloquy  in  the  former  scene !  what  an  irreconcilable 
antagonism  between  the  son,  whose  heart  and  mind  are  both 
absorbed  in  his  dead  father,  and  these  two,  whose  only  thought  is  of 
their  own  pleasure  and  advancement,  who  cannot  too  soon  forget 
their  late  benefactor  that  they  may  learn  to  flatter  and  win  the 
favour  of  his  treacherous  successor  !  The  next  scene,  in  which  we 
see  Ophelia,  is  that  in  which  she  gives  the  well-known  description 
of  Hamlet's  singular  intrusion  on  her  privacy  in  such  a  condition 
as  to  make  her  fear  he  was  mad.  It  is  not  necessary  to  repeat  her 
words  here,  as  they  have  been  given  in  the  text ;  *  I  may  remark 
that  to  reconcile  such  words  with  the  idea  of  a  maiden  full  of 
voluptuous  ideas  and  impure  desires,  prepared  to  sacrifice  her  vir- 
ginity if  she  has  not  already  done  so,  is  a  task  worthy  of  the  inge- 
nuity of  a  German  critic. 

Polonius  does  not  seem  quite  so  self-confident  now,  and  begins 
to  think  that  possibly  after  all  Hamlet  might  have  been  something 
better  than  a  fickle  profligate,  though  he  was  a  prince.  (Act  II,, 
Scene  1,  lines  101-110.) 

POL.    Come,  go  with  me  :  1  will  go  seek  the  King. 

This  is  the  very  ecstasy  of  love  ; 

Whose  violent  property  fordoes  itself 

And  leads  the  will  to  desperate  undertakings 

As  oft  as  any  passion  under  heaven 

That  does  afflict  our  natures.     I  am  sorry, 

What,  have  you  given  him  any  hard  words  of  late  ? 
OPH.  No,  my  good  lord,t  but,  as  you  did  command, 

*  See  Pages  24-25. 

f  It  may  be  noted  that  Laerf  es  and  Ophelia  both  address  their  father  as 
'  my  lord.'  Ophelia  uses  the  term  in  every  speech  of  hers  with  only  one 
exception.  This  may  be  attributed  partly  to  the  ceremonious  custom  of  l^ 
Shakespeare's  time  :  but  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it  is  also  intended 
to  show  how  formal  and  precise  Polonius  was  towards  his  children,  and 
that  they  looked  upon  him  with  no  little  awe. 


136  A  STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

I  did  repel  his  letters  and  denied 
His  access  to  me. 

Ib  is  almost  impossible  to  imagine  these  words  to  be  spoken  by 
one  who  had  any  consciousness  of  having  compromised  her  virgin 
purity,  or  her  woman's  dignity,  with  her  lover,  either  in  thought  or 
deed. 

Pol.  That  hath  made  him  mad. 

I  am  sorry  that  with  better  heed  and  judgment 

I  had  not  quoted  him  :  I  fear'd  he  did  but  trifle 

And  meant  to  wreck  thee  ;  but  beshrew  my  jealousy  ! 

By  heaven,  it  is  as  proper  to  our  age 

To  cast  beyond  ourselves  in  our  opinions 

As  it  is  common  for  the  younger  sort 

To  lack  discretion.     Come,  go  we  to  the  king  : 

This  must  be  known  ;  which,  being  kept  close,  might  move 

More  grief  to  hide  than  hate  to  utter  love. 

Come.  [Exeunt. 

The  prudent  father  and  all-wise  counsellor  has  now  entirely 
abandoned  all  suspicions  of  Hamlet's  good  faith.  Though  Ophelia 
says  nothing,  it  may  fairly  be  supposed  that  her  face  shows  the  joy 
which  she  feels  at  her  father's  change  of  sentiments ;  and  that  the 
hope  of  attaining  the  happiness,  which  she  had  dreamt  of,  in  an 
union  with  the  object  of  her  love,  sanctioned  by  her  father  and  by 
his  mother,  springs  up  afresh  in  her  heart.  For  this  reason  she  may 
the  more  readily,  in  perfect  good  faith,  lend  herself  to  the  decep- 
tion which  is  afterwards  practised  on  Hamlet. 

When  Polonius  informs  the  King  and  Queen  of  the  great 
discovery  he  has  made  as  to  the  cause  of  Hamlet's  madness,  he  says, 
speaking  of  the  letter  (Act  II,  Scene  2,  lines  107  and  108),  that 
Ophelia  had  given  it  him — "  in  her  duty  and  obedience." 

I  have  spoken  of  this  letter  (Appendix  A,  page  7)  as  presenting 
considerable  difficulty,  and  the  more  one  tries  to  ascertain  its 
history,  the  more  perplexing  it  becomes.  Polonius  makes  no 
allusion  to  it  in  the  scene  from  which  I  have  already  quoted 
(Act  L,  Scene  3)  so  that  it  is  perhaps  safest  to  suppose  that,  after 
the  agitated  account  which  she  had  given  her  father  of  Hamlet's 
strange  conduct,  he  had  asked  her  if  she  had  any  letters  of  his  ; 
that  she  had  then  given  him  this  one,  both  for  the  reason  which  I 
have  suggested  before  (Appendix  A,  page  ),  namely,  that  there 
was  nothing  in  it  which  she  could  object  to  show  to  others,  and  also 
because  the  strange  tone  of  it  would  seem,  in  some  measure,  to  con- 
firm the  supposition  that  Hamlet  was  mad.  I  do  not  believe  that 
Polonius  had,  after  his  warning  to  Ophelia  (Act  I.,  Scene  3),  required 
her  to  give  up  all  Hamlet's  letters,  and  that  she  had  been  guilty  of 
the  deceit  of  keeping  back  all  save  this  one.  It  is  a  more  probable 
conjecture  that  Ophelia,  who  was  sincerely  alarmed  on  Hamlet's 
account,  and  very  much  distressed,  would  ,say  to  her  father  that 


APPENDIX.  137 

she  would  rather  he  went  alone  to  the  King,  as  she  could  not  bear 
the  idea  of  being  questioned  about  Hamlet ;  but  that  if  her  father 
wanted  any  proof  of  his  love  for  her,  he  might  take  this  letter ; 
this  seems  to  me  the  likeliest  explanation  of  the  way  in  which 
Polonius  became  possessed  of  it.  But  this  does  not  help  us  to 
discover  when  it  was  written ;  whether  before  or  after  Polonius  had 
forbidden  his  daughter  to  hold  any  communication  with  Hamlet 
(Act  I.,  Scene  3,  lines  133-135)  ;  I  am  inclined  to  think  '  before  ' 
(see  Appendix  A,  page  8),  the  more  so  because  the  expression  of 
Ophelia  (Act  II.,  Scene  1,  line  109),  'I  did  repel  his  letters/  would 
seem  to  imply  that  she  had  refused  to  receive  them.  The  chief 
object  in  reverting  to  this  letter  now  is  to  illustrate  the  perfect 
sincerity  of  Ophelia's  character ;  her  first  act  of  deceit  was  yet  to 
come,  and  dearly  did  she  pay  for  it. 

Prom  Polonius'  own  words  immediately  after  reading  the  letter 
we  see  that  Ophelia  had  treated  him  Avith  filial  confidence — 

This  in  obedience  hath  my  daughter  shown  me  ; 
And  more  above,  hath  his  solioitings, 
As  they  fell  out  by  time,  by  means  and  place, 
All  given  to  mine  ear. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  both  the  King  and  Queen  seem  to  place  the 
most  implicit  trust  in  Ophelia's  goodness ;  not  a  word  is  said  by 
them  implying  any  suspicion  of  her  perfect  modesty  and  truth.  It 
may  also  be  observed  that,  although  at  the  beginning  of  this  scene, 
when  Claudius  tells  Gertrude  that  Polonius  had  found  '  the  source 
of  Hamlet's  distemper,'  her  reply  is — 

I  doubt  it  is  no  other  but  the  main  ; 
His  father's  death  and  our  o'erhasty  marriage- 
she  is  now  inclined  to  believe  Polonius'  explanation,  while  Claudius 
seems  to  doubt  it ;  he  had  a  guilty  self-consciousness  which  made 
him  suspect  the  real  cause  ;  nor  was  he  the  sort  of  inan  to  believe 
in  a  young  Prince  going  mad  for  the  sake  of  love.     Gertrude  had, 
doubtless,  in  happier  times,  been  her  son's  confidant  on  the  subject 
of  his  attachment,   of  which  she  certainly  did  not  disapprove  (see 
Act  V,,  Scene  1,  lines  232  ard  233). 

Polonius  now  discloses  his  plan,  which  is  carried  out  in  the  next 
Act  j  the  approach  of  Hamlet  puts  an  end  to  all  other  discussion, 
and  Polonius  is  left  to  try  his  skill  on  '  the  poor  wretch/ 

Only  one  point  need  be  mentioned  as  affecting  the  main  question 
under  discussion,  and  that  is  Hamlet's  indelicate  allusion  to  Ophelia 
(lines  185  and  186).  This  is  evidently  part  of  his  affectation  of 
madness.  He  says  the  very  thing  he  would  have  been  least  likely 
to  say  in  his  own  proper  character,  and  what  he  never  would  have 
said  if  there  had  been  any  intrigue  between  him  and  Ophelia. 
Indeed  this  passage  would  suffice  to  convince  me  that  the  relations 
between  the  two  had  never  been  of  a  sensual  character.  As  we  find 


138  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

that  Hamlet  generally  uses  his  assumed  madness  as  a  cover  for  satire, 
there  is  little  doubt  but  that  he  intends  to  ridicule  Polonius  for  the 
extraordinary  care  he  had  taken  of  his  daughter's  virtue  by  forbid- 
ding her  to  hold  any  intercourse  with  him,  conscious  as  he  was  that 
the  thought  of  wounding  her  honour  had  never  crossed  his  mind. 

It  is  the  next  day  that  Ophelia,  in  company  with  her  father, 
presents  herself  before  the  King  and  Queen  to  play  her  part  in  the 
notable  scheme  which  was  at  once  to  discover  the  cause  of,  and  to 
find  a  cure  for,  the  supposed  madness  of  Hamlet.  Rosencrantz  and 
Guildenstern  were  there,  to  report  the  result  of  their  first  day's  work 
as  spies  ;  Ophelia,  in  her  innocence,  listens  to  every  word  they  let 
^fall  with  simple  faith,  and  is  chilled  with  despair,  or  flushed  with 
/  hope,  as  their  relation  dwells  upon  the  signs  of  a  brooding  melan- 
choly he  had  shown,  or  upon  the  awakened  interest  which  he  had 
manifested  at  mention  of  the  players.  "When  the  spaniels  have 
gone,  Claudius  explains  the  plan  of  action  ;  Hamlet  has  been  '  sent 
for'— 

That  he,  as  'twere  by  accident,  may  here 

Affront  Ophelia.  (Act  III.,  Scene  1,  lines  30  and  31.) 

Tho  King  and  Polonius,  'lawful  espials'  (a  phrase  which  might 
assist  in  removing  any  scruples  Ophelia  had  to  play  her  part  in  the 
deception),  were  to  hide  themselves  in  such  a  position  that  they 
might  hear  all  which  passed  ;  the  Queen  was  to  go  away.  Her 
assent  to  this  scheme  is  given  in  such  terms  as  to  show  that  her 
opinion  of  Ophelia  was  a  very  high  one. 

QUEEN.  I  shall  obey  you  : 

And  for  your  part,  Ophelia,  I  do  wish 
That  your  good  beauties  be  the  happy  cause 
Of  Hamlet's  wildneas  :  so  shall  I  hope  your  virtues 
Will  bring  him  to  his  wonted  way  again, 
To  both  your  honours. 

Ophelia's  answer  is  what  a  maiden's  should  be,  simple  and  modest- 
Madam,  I  wish  it  may. 

Polonius'  directions  to  Ophelia  are  worth  observing,  as  they  are 
generally  ignored  on  the  stage. 

POL.    Ophelia,  walk  you  here 

«     .     .     . Read  on  this  book ; 

That  show  of  such  an  exercise  may  colour 
Your  loneliness. 

The  next  words  show  that  this  book  was  one  of  devotion^  and 
render  more  probable  my  conjecture  that,  towards  the  end  of 
Hamlet's  soliloquy,  Ophelia  has  sunk  on  her  knees  and  is 
really  praying  for  her  distracted  lover  (see  Part  I.,  page  27).  I  have 
quoted  most  of  the  scene  in  the  text,  but  as  far  as  it  bears  on  the 
character  of  Ophelia,  I  may  be  allowed  to  revert  to  it.  How  touch- 
ingly  simple  are  her  words,  even  when  she  is  playing  a  part,  even 
when  she  is  consciously  lending  her  aid  to  a  deception — but  to  one, 


APPENDIX.  139 

be  it  remembered,  which  she  honestly  believes  to  be  an  innocent 
one,  and  likely  to  lead  to  the  restoration  of  her  beloved  Prince  to 
his  right  mind,  and  of  herself  to  that  place  in  his  heart  which  she 
once  so  proudly,  so  lovingly  held. 

Some  persons,  whose  ingenious  minds  have  despoiled  Ophelia  of 
her  purity,  profess  to  see  in  Hamlet's  words — 

Nymph,  in  thy  orisons 
Be  all  my  sins  remember' d — 

a  confirmation  of  their  opinion.  I  suppose  they  would  paraphrase 
these  words  thus  :  "  Sweet  creature,  I  have  done  you  the  greatest 
wrong  man  can  do  to  woman ;  don't  forget  me  in  your  prayers  !  " 
Is  this  part  of  Hamlet's  affected  madness,  or  is  he  really  out  of  his 
senses  when  he  is  supposed  to  utter  such  a  piece  of  consummate 
cold-blooded  hypocrisy  ?  But  this  foul  distortion  of  Hamlet's  words 
may  be  left  for  those  whose  minds  delight  in  feats  of  indelicate 
gymnastics. 

Hamlet's  words,  as  well  as  his  manner,  are  such  as  to  give  Ophelia 
confidence ;  as  I  have  pointed  out  in  the  text  (Part  I.,  page  27), 
she  has  not  seen  Hamlet  for  some  time ;  she  probably  seeks  to 
express  her  sorrow  at  their  separation  ;  and,  with  the  sweet  incon- 
sistency of  woman,  to  rebuke  him  tenderly  for  taking  her  '  denial ' 
of  '  his  access '  to  her  as  serious,  and  for  not  making  her  disobey  her 
father's  commands.  Hamlet's  answer  is  somewhat  formal — 

I  Humbly  thank  you  :  well,  well,  well. 

*The  repetition  of  the  latter  word  three  times  is  said  to  be  part  of 
his  affectation  of  madness,  one  of  the  symptoms  of  insanity  being 
the  repetition  of  words  j  but  I  cannot  think  it  is  anything  more 
than  a  natural  accident  of  Hamlet's  melancholy. 

The  step  which  Ophelia  now  takes,  that  of  offering  to  give  back 
to  Hamlet  the  presents  which  he  had  made  her,  I  have  attributed 
in  the  text  (Part  I.,  page  27)  to  the  instigation  of  her  father  ;  but 
it  is  quite  possible  that  it  was  entirely  her  own  idea,  and  that  she 
hoped,  by  thus  seeming  to  recognise  formally  the  severance  of  all 
affectionate  relations  between  them,  to  draw  from  Hamlet  a  renewal 

*  See  Staunton's  Note.  Illustrated  edition,  1861,  vol.  iii,,  p.  366. 
"  To  us  it  is  evident  that  here,  as  in  other  places,  the  iteration — a  well- 
known  symptom  of  intellectual  derangement — is  purposely  adopted  by 
Hamlet  to  encourage  the  belief  of  his  insanity.  He  never  indulges  in  this 
cuckoo-note  unless  with  those  whom  he  distrusts."  (Note  a,  on  the  words, 
"  Except  my  life,  except  my  life,  except  my  life" — Act  II.,  Scene  2,  lines 
216-217.)  That  this  iteration  or  repetition  is  "a  well-known  symptom  of 
intellectual  derangement,"  I  am  not  so  sure  ;  it  certainly  is  a  common  habit 
of  men  who  are  preoccupied  with  some  great  sorrow,  or  who  are  of  a  melan- 
choly temperament.  As  to  the  other  places  in  which  Hamlet  adopts  this 
'  iteration,'  except  the  one  on  which  Mr.  Staunton's  note  is  written,  and  the 
present  one  in  the  scene  with  Ophelia,  I  can  find  no  other  but  that  in  the 
scene  with  Osric  (Act  V.,  Scene  2,  line  172) — "  Yours,  yours  ;  "  this  is  not 
exactly  a  similar  instance.  I  think  Mr.  Staunton  has  been  led  to  generalise 
here  on  insufficient  grounds. 


140  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

of  those  <  tenders  of  honourable  affection/  those  '  holy  vows '  to 
which  she  had  before  listened  with  such  delight.  But  she  is  niet 
by  a  blank  denial  on  Hamlet's  part,  as  if  he  had  completely  for- 
gotten all  the  past ;  this  rouses  her  to  an  earnest  vindication  of  her 
own  truthfulness,  which  is  full  of  sweet  maidenly  dignity  ;  she  is 
not  acting  a  part  now,  and  she  insists  011  returning  the  gifts  of  which 
the  giver  had  so  cruelly  denied  all  knowledge.  I  have  already 
carefully  analysed  this  scene  up  to  the  point  when  Hamlet  leaves 
her ;  it  is  only  necessary  to  point  out  that  except  in  the  one  false- 
hood which  she  is  forced  to  tell,  all  that  Ophelia  utters  in  this 
trying  crisis  is  distinguished  by  the  purest  simplicity  and  the  most 
unselfish  love.  I  cannot  myself  conceive  any  man  in  the  possession 
of  his  senses,  reading  this  scene,  and  especially  the  beautiful  speech 
of  Ophelia  after  Hamlet's  exit,  without  feeling  that  he  is  in  the 
presence  of  one  of  the  noblest  and  purest  creations  of  a  poet,  who 
has  shown  in  the  characters  of  the  women  with  which  he  has 
adorned  his  plays,  that  he  knew,  what  so  many  critics  have  never 
been  able  to  conceive,  the  true  '  beauty  of  holiness.'  Let  anyone 
ponder  over  this  exquisite  outburst  of  unselfish  sorrow,  and  then  say 
if  she  who  uttered  it  was  likely  to  have  been  unchaste  or  lascivious  : 

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, 

The  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form, 

The  observed  of  all  observers,  quite,  quite  down  ! 

And  I,  of  ladies  most  deject  and  wretched, 

That  suck'd  the  honey  of  his  music  vows, 

Now  see  that  noble  and  most  sovereign  reason, 

Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh  ; 

That  unmatch'd  form  and  feature  of  blown  youth 

Blasted  with  ecstacy  :  0,  woe  is  me, 

To  have  seen  what  I  have  seen,  see  what  I  see  ! 

Some  feeling  of  respect  for  such  noble  grief  might  have  restrained 
Polonius  and  the  King  from  entering  sooner ;  at  any  rate,  no  one 
will  quarrel  with  the  poet  who  kept  them  in  the  background,  since 
their  presence  must  have  deprived  us  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
passages  to  be  found  in  Shakespeare. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  Ophelia's  agitation  does  not  permit  of  her 
speaking  again.     I  take  the  expression  of  Polonius — 

How  now,  Ophelia  I 

to  be  occasioned  by  the  violence  of  the  emotion  which  she  strives 
in  vain  to  hide.  The  next  words  should,  then,  be  spoken  kindly  ; 
for  even  the  pragmatical  Polonius  must  have  been  touched  by  her 
sorrow — 

You  need  not  tell  us  what  Lord  Hamlet  said  5 

We  heard  it  all. 

t£e  wishes  to  spare  her  the  pain  of  such  a  recital. 

I  come  now  to  the  examination  of  that  part  of  the  l  tlay  Scene '' 


APPENDIX.  141 

which  bears  upon  the  character  of  Ophelia  ;  and  I  must  apologise 
for  the  unavoidable  necessity  of  drawing  attention  to  such  passages 
as  must  be  admitted  to  form  a  serious  blemish  in  this  otherwise 
noble  work. 

Between  Scenes  1  and  2  of  this  Act  there  is  an  interval  of  some 
hours.  When  Hamlet  parted  from  Ophelia  it  was  morning ;  now 
it  is  night,  and  the  promised  play  to  which  Hamlet  has  invited  the 
King  and  Queen  is  going  to  be  represented.  Hamlet  has  deter- 
mined to  cover  his  serious  purpose  by  the  assumption  of  a  more 
extravagant  demeanour  than  ever ;  he  has  escaped  with  flying 
colours,  as  he  considers,  from  the  trap  laid  for  him  ;  he  is  conscious 
of  having  filled  the  King's  mind  with  vague  alarm,  while  he  has 
succeeded  in  puzzling  him  more  than  ever  as  to  the  cause  of  his 
nephew's  madness.  Terribly  anxious  as  to  the  result  of  that 
bold  experiment  which  he  is  about  to  try,  which  must,  if  successful 
in  betraying  the  King  into  an  indirect  confession  of  his  guilt,  at 
once  confirm  the  solemn  revelation  made  to  him  by  his  father's 
spirit,  and  leave  him  no  excuse  for  delaying  the  fulfilment  of  '  that 
dread  command,'  Hamlet's  nerves  are  strung  to  the  highest  pitch, 
and  the  eccentricities  in  which  he  indulges  are  but  the  safety- 
valves  for  an  excitement  which,  if  totally  suppressed,  might  over- 
power his  senses.  His  resentment  against  Ophelia  for  what  he 
considers  her  duplicity  towards  him,  which  is  still  working  in  his 
mind,  coupled  with  the  mischievous  pleasure  he  takes  in  misleading 
his  uncle,  induces  him  to  take  his  place  at  her  feet.  From  the 
first  entry  of  the  King,  Queen,  Polonius,  Ophelia  and  the  court, 
Hamlet  has  appeared  to  be  in  the  highest  spirits ;  when  he  answers 
to  his  mother's  invitation  to  sit  by  her  side — 

No,  good  mother,  here's  metal  more  attractive — 

at  the  same  time  approaching  Ophelia  with  a  gay  air,  it  is  natural 
that  she  should  be  alarmed  at  the  change  which  has  coine  over 
him  since  she  last  saw  him.  He  commences  in  a  tone  of  cruel 
banter — 

Lady,  shall  I  lie  in  your  lap  ? 

Her  answer  is  in  a  tone  of  outraged  modesty,  but  simple  as  a 
maiden's  should  be.  He  continues  in  a  manner  which  must  have 
increased  her  alarm.  The  belief  that  he  is  inad  enables  her  to 
suppress  her  indignation  ;  the  only  resemblance  of  a  reproach  that 
escapes  her  lips  is  contained  in  that  pathetic  remonstrance — 
You  are  merry,  my  lord. 

The  pleasure  of  having  him  near  her  overcomes  her  timidity,  and 
she  tries  to  seem  at  her  ease  with  him.  She  asks  him  to  explain 
the  dumb  show  which  precedes  the  play,  but  Hamlet's  answer  is  so 
brutally  filthy  that  even  his  assumed  madness  can  be  no  excuse  for 
such  an  outrage  on  decency.*  Ophelia's  gentle  nature  is  roused  to 

*  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  prove  that  some  of  the  most  offensive  lines 
were  inserted  by  the  players  to  suit  the  depraved  taste  of  their  audience, 


142  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

some  show  of  resentment ;  for  a  moment  she  turns  .away  from  him 
with  the  simple  rebuke — 

You  are  naught,  you  are  naught :  I'll  mark  the  play. 
But  he  does  not  leave  her  long  to  herself : 

HAM.  Is  this  is  a  prologue,  or  the  posy  of  a  ring  ? 
OPH.    'Tis  brief,  my  lord. 
HAM.  As  woman's  love. 

'  This  last  sentence  is  spoken  looking  at  the  Queen,  though 
undoubtedly  Hamlet  means  it  as  a  satire  on  the  fickleness  which 
he  thinks  Ophelia  has  shown  towards  him.  His  next  observation, 
after  the  speech  of  the  Player  Queen,  in  which  she  vows  fidelity 
to  her  husband's  memory,  ought  not  to  be  addressed  to  Ophelia 
(as  it  is  according  to  the  stage  direction  in  Staunton's  Edition),  but 
should  be  spoken  aloud  at  the  Queen,  on  whom,  as  well  as  on 
Claudius,  Hamlet's  eyes  are  riveted. 

In  spite  of  the  cruel  insults  he  has  addressed  to  her,  which  she 
excuses  to  herself  on  the  ground  of  his  distraction,  Ophelia  cannot 
refrain  from  the  attempt  to  win  one  look  of  love  or  one  tender 
word  from  Hamlet,  But  he  is  merciless  ;  to  her  playful  remark — 

You  are  as  good  as  a  chorus,  my  lord— 
he  answers  only  with  a  morose  sarcasm — 

I  could  interpret  between  you  and  your  love,  if  I  could  see  the  puppets 
dallying. 

She  cannot  conceal  her  bitter  pain ;  at  any  other  time  he  must 
have  felt  stung  by  her  reproach — 

You  are  keen,  my  lord,  you  are  keen. 

But  his  intense  excitement  makes  him  like  one  under  a  demoniacal 
possession;  his  only  answer  is  again  a  brutal  insult:  the  last 
words  she  speaks  are  these  somewhat  enigmatical  ones — 

OPH,    Still  better,  and  worse. 

HAM.  So  you  must  take  your  husbands. 

Thus  do  these  two,  who  once  had  been  so  happy  in  their  mutual 
loves,  virtually  take  leave  of  one  another :  he  who  was  once  so 
gentle  and  so  affectionate  to  her,  so  *  full  of  tender  and  refined 
homage  to  her  beauty  and  to  her  virtues,  upon  the  "  honey  of  whose 
music  vows  "  her  soul  had  rapturously  fed — he  will  never  more 
speak  one  word  to  her — no,  not  to  tell  her  how  harshly  he  had 
misj  adged  her,  and  to  ask  her  forgiveness.  She  will  hear  nothing 

but  I  am  afraid  that  they  must  be  acknowledged  to  have  been  permitted,  if 
not  approved,  by  Shakespeare,  in  common  with  some  equally  repulsive 
passages  in  other  plays.  I  have  no  wish  to  see  Shakespeare  universally 
Bowdlerised,  but  I  think  the  text,  as  published  in  the  Clarendon  Press  Series, 
might  be  generally  adopted  for  the  purposes  of  the  library.  These  objec- 
tionable passages  were  erased  in  Collier's  annotated  copy,  and  I  believe 
they  were  very  rarely  spoken  in  representation,  even  during  the  seventeenth 
•entury. 


APPENDIX.  143 

more  of  him  until  she  is  told  that  her  father  died  by  his  hand, 
and  that  he  is  sent  away,  half  in  pity,  half  in  punishment,  to  a 
distant  land ;  and  he,  what  would  he  not  give  to  recal  these  cruel 
taunts,  these  ferocious  insults,  which,  in  his  half-assumed,  half-real 
madness,  he  has  now  uttered,  when  he  sees  the  body  of  his  beloved 
being^lowered  into  a  dishonoured  grave '? 

There  is  a  terrible  pathos  in  this  love  story  of  Hamlet  and 
Ophelia,  though  Shakespeare  has  only  permitted  us  to  snatch  a 
hasty  glance  at  it. 

Every  word  uttered  by  Ophelia  in  this  scene  seems  to  strengthen 
the  view  of  her  character  which  I  have  taken,  and  to  render 
impossible,  except  in  distorted  natures,  the  slightest  suspicion  of 
her  purity.  Every  impure  allusion,  every  foul  inuendo,  which  is 
aimed  at  her  in  this  scene,  seems  to  drop  harmless  from  the  armour 
of  her  spotless  chastity.  Compare  for  a  moment  the  rich  volup- 
tuousness of  Juliet,  the  reckless  banter  of  Beatrice,  the  mischievous 
double  entendres  of  Portia,  with  the  crystal  simplicity  of  Ophelia's 
language,  and  one  cannot  fail  to  see  which  is  the  purest  creation. 
She  is  Shakespeare's  most  perfect  portrait  of  virginity,  as  Desdemona 
and  Imogen  are  his  most  faultless  pictures  of  true  wifehood. 

It  only  remains  now  to  examine  the  two  scenes  in  which 
Ophelia  is  shown  to  us  in  her  madness.  I  think  I  shall  find  no 
difficulty  in  proving  that  these  do  not  afford  the  slightest  ground 
for  the  more  modified  aspersions  of  Goethe,  or  of  Gervinus,  on  her 
character,  any  more  than  for  the  direct  accusation  of  unchastity. 

I  now  proceed  to  Act  IV.,  Scene  5,  between  which  and  the 
preceding  scene  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  a  considerable  interval 
of  time  elapses.  (See  Additional  Note  10.)  I  must,  at  the  risk 
of  being  tedious,  insist  upon  this  fact,  for  unless  the  reader  bears 
it  in  mind,  he  will  not  be  able  to  follow  much  of  my  argument. 
During  this  interval  of  time  Ophelia  has  heard  the  news  of  her 
father's  death ;  at  first  the  accounts  were  vague ;  then  the  fact  that 
her  lover  had  killed  him  would  become  known  to  her ;  next  she 
would  hear  how,  on  this  last  most  terrible  proof  of  his  madness, 
that  lover  had  been  sent  away  to  England ;  she  would  then 
begin  to  realise  these  two  facts — first,  that  Hamlet,  for  whom  her 
heart  yearned,  in  spite  of  his  late  cruel  conduct  to  hbr,*  had  gone 
without  being  able,  even  had  he  so  desired,  to  say  one  word  of 
farewell;  next  that  her  father  (for  whom  she  had  an  affection 
reverential  in  the  extreme,  partaking  much  of  awe,  but  still  like 
every  feeling  of  her  sweet  nature,  most  tender)  had  suffered  a  violent 
and  sudden  death  at  the  hands  of  Hamlet ;  she  might  also  have 
heard  how  the  author  of  this  deed  of  violence  had  wept  over  the 
victim  of  his  rash  fury ;  the  motive  which  had  caused  this  fatal 
mistake  she  could  not  know  :  her  mind,  already  bewildered  by  the 
remembrance  of  his  fantastic  harshness  and  brutality  towards  her, 

*  During  the  representation  of  the  play  of  Gonzago. 


144  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

• 

would  have  brooded  over  the  calamities  of  which  she  might  well 
consider  herself  the  indirect  cause— was  it  not  Hamlet's  love  for 
/  her,  so  cruelly  repulsed  by  her,  acting  under  her  father's  command, 
which  had  driven  him  into  this  madness  ?  ^  Of  the  great  crime  from 
which  all  these  woes  had  their  origin  she  knew  nothing ;  her 
brother  was  away,  she  had  none  to  comfort  her.  Small  wonder  if 
her  brain  gave  way  under  this  load  of  misery.  Gertrude  has  been 
too  much  occupied  with  the  anxieties  surrounding  her  and  her 
husband  to  think  of  Ophelia  ;  the  stings  of  remorse  have  been 
roused  to  activity  in  her  soul  by  the  eloquent  denunciations  of  her 
unhappy  son  ;  she  shrinks  from  looking  on  the  ruin  of  which  her 
guilt  has  been  the  primal  cause  ;  her  mind  is  racked  by  the  vague 
but  terrible  apprehension  of  some  new  calamity.  Horatio,  for 
whom,  as  her  son's  trusted  friend,  she  has  great  respect,  has 
accompanied  a  Gentleman  of  the  Court,  who  conies  to  announce 
that  Ophelia,  in  a  distracted  state,  seeks  an  interview  with  her : 

QUEEN.  I  will  not  speak  with  her. 

GENT.      She  is  importunate,  indeed  distract  : 
Her  mood  will  needs  be  pitied. 

QUEEN.  What  would  she  have  ? 

GENT.      She  speaks  much  of  her  father,  says  she  hears 

There's  tricks  i'  the  world,  and  hems  and  beats  her  heart, 
Spurns  enviously  at  straws  ;  speaks  things  in  doubt, 
That  carry  but  half  sense  :  her  speech  is  nothing, 
Yet  the  unshaped  use  of  it  doth  move 
The  hearers  to  collection ;  they  aim  at  it, 
And  botch  the  words  up  fit  to  their  own  thoughts  ; 
Which,  as  her  winks  and  nods  and  gestures  yield  them, 
Indeed  would  make  one  think  there  might  be  thought, 
Though  nothing  sure,  yet  much  unhappily. 

This  description  of  Ophelia's  state  shows  us  clearly  what  was  the 
cause  of  her  madness,  and  on  what  subject  her  distracted  mind 
dwelt  most  persistently.  It  is  perfectly  natural  that  she  might 
have  suspected  some  foul  play  on  the  part  of  the  King,  as  the 
circumstances  of  Polonius'  death  were  never  explained  to  anyone 
but  to  Laertes ;  and  even  from  him  the  real  reason  why  Hamlet 
sought  to  kill  the  King,  for  whom  he  had  mistaken  Polonius,  was 
carefully  concealed. 

Ophelia  enters,  as  the  Quarto  1603  has  it,  "playing  on  a  Lute, 
and  her  haire  downe  singing  ;  "  she  asks — 

Where  is  the  beauteous  majesty  of  Denmark  ? 

referring,  of  course,  to  the  Queen,  who  addresses  her  with  a  mixture 
of  surprise  and  pity — 

How  now,  Ophelia  !  . 

The  distracted  maiden  immediately  bursts  into  a  song  : 

How  should  I  your  true  love  know 

From  another  one  ? 
By  his  cockle  hat  and  staff 

And  his  sandal  shoon, 


APPENDIX.  145 

Ophelia  was  not  in  love  with  a  pilgrim ;  and  the  irrelevancy  of 
the  words  are  so  obvious  that  the  Queen  may  well  ask,  "  What 
imports  this  song  \ "  The  next  verse  she  sings  is  suggested  by  her 
father's  death  : 

OPH.  Say  you,  nay,  pray  you,  mark. 
(Sings)     He  is  dead  and  gone,  lady, 

He  is  dead  and  gone  ; 
At  his  head  a  grass-green  turf, 

At  his  heels  a  stone. 
Ob,  oh  ! 

This  is  a  cry  of  grief,  so  natural  that  the  Queen  thinks  it  may  not 
be  hopeless  to  try  and  reason  with  her  : 

QUEEN.  Nay,  but,  Ophelia,— 

She,  however,  continues  the  song— 

OPH.  Pray  you,  mark. 

(Sings)    White  his  shroud  as  the  mountain  snow,— 

Enter  KIKO. 
QUEEN.  Alas,  look  here,  my  lord. 

Ophelia  does  not  heed  the  interruption,  but  without  looking  up 
sings  on — 

Larded  with  sweet  flowers  ; 
Which  bewept  to  the  grave  did  go 

With  true-love  showers. 

It  is  a  striking  feature  in  madness  how  the  mind  follows  one  clue 
of  thought  up  to  a  certain  point,  and  then  drops  it,  changing 
suddenly  to  another ;  but  the  dominant  idea  which  was  the  first 
cause  of  the  aberration  is  sure  to  return.  This  verse  ended,  Ophelia 
lets  the  lute  drop  by  her  side,  and  from  her  answer  to  the  King  it 
is  evident  that  her  fancy  has  wandered  on  quite  a  new  track  : 

KINO.  How  do  you,  pretty  lady  ? 

OPH.     Well,  God  'ild  you  !     They  say  the  owl  was  a  baker's  daughter. 

Lord,  we  know  what  we  are,  but  know  not  what  we  may  be. 

God  be  at  your  table ! 

This  story  of  the  baker's  daughter  was  one  she  had  probably  been 
told  in  her  childhood.  The  King's  remark — 

Conceit  upon  her  father — 

refers  to  the  last  verse  she  had  sung.  By  a  rapid  transition  she 
passes  now  into  a  merry  vein,  and  taking  up  the  lute  again,  sings 
the  ballad  which  has  occasioned  such  unfavourable  views  to  be 
taken  of  her  character.  It  is  not  necessary  to  quote  it,  The  words 
with  which  she  introduces  it,  I  believe,  ought  to  be  spoken  with  an 
exaggerated  gaiety — 

Pray  you,  let's  have  no  words  of  this  ;  but  when  they  ask  you  what  it 
means,  say  you  this  : 

I  must  take  exception  to  any  attempt,  on  the  part  of  the  actress, 
to  give  a  pathetic  turn  to  whatever  portion  she  may  choose  to 

L 


140  A   STUDY   0F  HAMLET. 

sing  of  it.  The  contrast  between  this  and  the  other  verses  Ophelia 
sings,  which  are  all  melancholy,  and  on  the  subject  of  death,*  is 
meant  to  be  most  marked.  As  I  have  said  in  the  text  (Part  I., 
page  26),  I  believe  this  ballad  to  have  been  one  which  had  been 
-  sung  by  her  nurse  to  Ophelia  ;  it  is  just  such  a  kind  of  composition 
as  a  person  in  that  class  of  life  would  have  sung.  The  character 
of  the  nurse  in  Borneo  and  Juliet,  as  drawn  by  Shakespeare,  shows 
us  that  these  good  women  were  not  over  delicate  as  to  the  kind  of 
jests  with  which  they  amused  their  young  charges.  .  Seeing  that 
this  ballad  seems  to  have  been  recalled  to  her  distraught  mind  by 
the  tale  about  the  baker's  daughter  being  changed  into  an  owl, 
just  such  a  popular  tale  as  a  nurse  would  tell  to  a  child,  I  think 
the  explanation  I  have  suggested  is  the  most  probable.  That  the 
ballad  could  by  any  means  be  supposed  to  refer  to  Ophelia's 
relations  with  Hamlet  I  cannot  understand;  it  is  not  a  tale  of 
seduction  by  a  man  of  a  woman,  but  the  story  of  a  girl  who, 
without  any  modesty,  deliberately  throws  herself  in  the  way  of 
temptation.  No  one  who  has  studied  cases  of  mental  alienation  is 
ignorant  of  the  fact  that  persons,  when  delirious,  accuse  themselves 
of  crimes  the  very  reverse  of  those  to  which  their  dispositions 
were  prone.  Sit  by  the  side  of  a  patient  in  delirium,  and  you  will 
find  their  mind  running  on  most  trivial  incidents,  which  they 
distort  and  exaggerate  in  their  madness  :  If,  as  I  have  said,  the 
brain  has  given  way  under  some  great  sorrow,  the  dominant  idea 
of  that  sorrow  will  return  again  and  again,  in  different  shapes,  but 
substantially  the  same.  In  most  cases,  however,  just  as  we  dream, 
for  the  most  part,  of  the  least  significant  events  in  the  past  day, 
so  do  our  minds,  in  delirium,  generally  run  on  matters  which,  in 
our  senses,  we  should  hardly  remember. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  Ophelia  never  says  another  word 
which  could  be  tortured  into  any  allusion  to  her  having  surrendered , 
her  virginity  to  Hamlet's  solicitations,  much  less  of  her  having  had 
any  sensual  passion  for  him. 

The  merry  mood  of  Ophelia  does  not  last  long,  as  her  next 
speech,  immediately  after  she  has  finished  the  ballad,  shows.  It  is 
one  of  her  most  pathetic  utterances  : 

OPH.  I  hope  all  will  be  well.  We  must  be  patient :  but  T  cannot  choose 
but  weep,  to  think  they  should  lay  him  i'  the  cold  ground.  My 
brother  shall  know  of  it :  and  so  I  thank  you  for  your  good  counsel. 

She  goes  out,  fancying,  poor  wretch  !  that  she  is  leaving  some 
festivity,  In  the  interim  between  this  and  her  next  entrance  she 
gathers  the  flowers  with  which  she  returns.  These  flowers  she  had 
evidently  picked  with  the  intention  of  decking  her  father's  bier. 
Twice  during  this  scene  she  breaks  off  suddenly  the  thread  of  her 
Wanderings— first,  when  she  says,  "'  It  is  the  false  steward  that  stole 

*  Except  the  one  line  she  sinss  of  <(  Bomry  sweet  Robin  is  all  inv  iov  " 
(line  182), 


APPENDIX.  147 

his  master's  daughter ; "  next,  when  she  "bursts  into  the  song  "  Donny 
sweet  Robin/'  of  which  she  only  sings  one  line. 

As  to  the  flowers  which. she  gives  to  Laertes,  to  Gertrude,  and  to 
Claudius,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  how  Gervinus  could  ever 
have  made  such  an  utterly  unwarrantable  allusion  to  them  as  he 
has.  Her  "  imagination  infected  with  sensual  images,"  "  her  quiet 
modesty  inspired  with  amorous  passions  " — all  this  "  is  apparent 
in  the  songs  she  sings  in  her  delirium,  and  in  the  significant 
flowers  she  distributes,  as  clearly  as  anything  so  hidden  in  its 
nature  can  and  may  be  unveiled."  I  do  not  envy  any  man  the 
pruriency  of  mind  which  can  discover  the  justification  of  such  a 
statement  in  the  flowers  which  Ophelia  distributes.  Rosemary  is 
for  '  remembrance,'  which  she  gives  to  Laertes,  as  well  as  pansies  for 
'  thoughts ; '  there  is  no  '  significance '  in  these,  any  more  than  in 
rue,  in  daisies,  in  violets,  or  in  columbine,  of  anything  but  a  pure 
nature.  Fennel  is  said  to  be  an  emblem  of  '  lust,'  but  it  was  much 
more  commonly  used  as  significant  of  '  flattery,'  in  which  sense  it 
is  undoubtedly  used  here.  To  the  plausible  Claudius  '  fennel '  was 
not  an  inappropriate  gift.  As  I  have  already  showed,  there  is  only 
one  song  out  of  the  four  or  five  that  Ophelia  sings  which  contains 
any  impure  allusions.  Such  criticism  as  this  of  Gervinus  reminds 
one  of  the  story  of  the  young  lady,  who  was  so  refined  that  she 
declined  to  hold  any  more  conversation  with  one  who  had  been 
guilty  of  such  indelicacy  as  to  talk  of  "  the  naked  eye." 

The  last  song  of  Ophelia  is  one  in  which  it  would  puzzle  the 
luminous  eye  of  a  German  critic  to  perceive  any  sensual  image  : 

And  will  a'  not  come  again  ? 
And  will  a'  not  come  again  ? 

No,  no,  he  is  dead, 

Go  to  thy  death-bed, 
He  never  will  come  again. 

His  beard  was  as  white  as  snow, 
All  flaxen  was  his  poll : 

He  is  gone,  he  is  gone, 

And  we  cast  away  moan  : 
God  ha'  mercy  on  his  soul ! 

And  of  all  Christian  souls,  I  pray  God.     God  be  wi'  you.     [Exit. 

With  these  words  she  departs,  never  having  even  recognised  her 
brother.  They  are  the  last  words  for  us  she  speaks ;  we  see 
nothing  more  of  this  most  gentle  and  pure  creation  of  Shakespeare's 
genius,  till  we  stand  with  her  sorrowing  brother  and  heart-broken, 
lover  by  the  side  of  her  grave.  Her  '  virgin  crants '  are  laid  upon 
her  body  that  had  been  the  stainless  temple  of  an  unblemished  soul. 
We  read  Laertes'  beautiful  words  as  something  more  than  pity's 
homage  to  an  unhappy  fate ;  they  are  the  just  tribute  to  a  purity 
which  no  breath  of  posthumous  calumny  can  sully — 

And  from  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh 
May  violets  spring  ! — 

L  2 


148  .  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

Words  which  would  indeed  have  been  a  mockery  if  spoken  over 
the  grave  of  Hamlet's  concubine,  and  none  the  less  a  mockery,  with 
due  respect  to  Dr.  Gervinus,  if  spoken  over  the  body  of  one  whose 
'imagination  had  been  infected  with  sensual  images,'  or  whose 
modesty  had  been  tainted  with  '  amorous  passion.' 

There  is  another  circumstance  which  renders  the  theory  that 
Hamlet  had  seduced  Ophelia  quite  untenable.  Neither  Claudius 
nor  Laertes  in  any  way  hint  at  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing  ; 
but  surely  if  this  very  strong  ground  of  quarrel  with  Hamlet 
existed,  Laertes  would  gladly  have  availed  himself  of  such  a  fair 
justification  of  any  vengeance  he  might  choose  to  exact ;  and 
Claudius  would  not  have  failed  to  use  such  a  powerful  means  of 
exasperating  the  anger  of  Laertes  against  Hamlet,  if  there  had 
been  the  shadow  of  a  suspicion  that  Ophelia  had  been  dishonoured 
by  the  young  prince.  But  however  harsh  or  even  cruel  Hamlet's 
words  to  Ophelia  may  seem  to  us,  and  might  have  seemed  to 
Claudius  and  her  father,  who  overheard  them,  there  was  no  doubt 
that  he  had  never  offered  any  real  insult  to  her  honour.  The 
relations  between  them  had  been  broken  off  by  the  positive 
commands  of  Polonius  himself,  and  Laertes  had,  as  we  have  seen, 
warned  Ophelia  against  an  intimacy  which  might  end  for  her  in 
disgrace  ;  we  cannot  therefore  conceive  that  any  delicacy,  or  scruple 
as  to  the  honour  of  his  family,  would  have  restrained  Laertes  from 
making  the  very  most  of  any  conduct  on  the  part  of  Hamlet  which 
might  have  sufficed  to  justify  his,  or  his  father's,  warning  to  Ophelia. 
Nothing  would  have  been  so  likely  to  alienate  the  sympathies  of 
the  people  from  Hamlet,  as  a  plausible  story  to  the  effect  that  he 
had  first  seduced  the  daughter  and  then  killed  the  father  in  a 
quarrel.  But  little  as  Claudius  respected  the  truth,  or  readily  as 
the  chivalrous  Laertes  lent  himself  to  an  act  of  the  blackest  treachery, 
they  both  knew  that  such  an  accusation  against  Hamlet  would  never 
have  been  entertained  by  those  who  were  at  all  acquainted  with  his 
character. 

With  regard  to  the  criticisms  on  Ophelia  which  I  have  quoted 
above,  I  may  remark  that  Gervinus,  of  his  own  individual  self,  seems 
to  incline  to  a  very  just  view  of  the  relations  between  Hamlet  and 
Ophelia.  With  the  first  part  of  his  remarks  no  one  could  quarrel; 
but,  unfortunately,  he  seems  suddenly  to  have  fallen  under  the 
spell  of  Goethe's  enervating  sensualism,  and  the  result  is  the 
passage  on  which  I  have  already  commented.  That  Hamlet 
1  abandons '  Ophelia  to  despair  and  insanity  cannot  fairly  be  said  ; 
Gervinus  has  fallen  into  this  mistake  through  failing  to  observe  the 
interval  which  elapses  between  Scene  4  and  Scene  5  of  Act  IV. 

"  His  conversation  with  her  is  equivocal,  and  not  as  Borneo, 
Bassanio,  or  even  Proteus  have  spoken  with  their  beloved  ones." 
This  seems  to  me  a  very  grave  misrepresentation.  Shakespeare  has 
not  given  us  any  of  Hamlet's  conversation  with  Ophelia  before  he 
assumed  madness ;  we  may  only  surmise  from  the  first  words  he 


APPENDIX.  149 

speaks  to  her  (Act  III.,  Scene  1,  lines  89-90)  that,  had  his  suspi- 
cions of  being  -watched  by  the  King  not  been  excited,  he  would 
have  talked  to  her  with  modesty  and  tender  reverence.  To  judge 
of  his  usual  conversation  with  her  by  the  specimens  we  have  in  tho 
Play  Scene  would  be  absurd ;  for  there  ho  is  evidently  exaggerating 
the  insanity  which  he  was  avowedly  counterfeiting.  Ophelia's 
description  of  Hamlet's  demeanour  towards  her  (Act  L,  Scene  3) 
justifies  us  in  supposing  that  ho  might  compare  favourably  with 
Romeo  and  Bassanio  as  far  as  purity  of  heart  goes ;  while  to  talk  of 
him  in  the  same  breath  as  of  that  abject  liar  and  traitor,  Proteus,  is 
an  insult.  In  any  case  it  would  be  gross  injustice  to  attempt  to  infect 
Ophelia's  nature  with  the  coarse  indecencies  which  Hamlet  utters 
in  his  assumed  character  of  a  bitter-tongued  madman.  It  would  be 
more  to  the  point  to  compare  her  language  when  sane  with  that  of 
Juliet,  Portia,  and  Julia ;  I  do  not  think  her  purity  would  be 
dimmed  by  such  a  comparison. 

"With  regard  to  Goethe's  conceptions  of  Ophelia,  it  is  to  me 
one  of  the  most  unpleasant  features  in  a  work  which  is  the  most 
utterly  disappointing  I  have  evec  read ;  and  which  I  humbly  venture 
to  assert  has  been  endowed  with  an  exaggerated  amount  of  merit  by 
enthusiastic  critics.  "  Wilhelm  Meister  "  is  a  work  written  by  one 
advanced  in  years,  in  which  we  find  all  the  cynicism  and  selfishness 
of  old  age  coupled  with  an  amount  of  animal  passion  which  youth 
alone  could  excuse.  The  gem  of  the  work,  Mignon,  is  marred  by 
tho  intrusion  of  the  same  element  with  which  Goethe  seeks  to  taint 
Ophelia's  character,  and  the  grateful,  loving,  child  dies  in  a  paroxysm 
of  sensual  desire.  But  this  is  not  the  place  for  a  criticism  of 
"  Wilhelm  Meister."  Few  who  have  carefully  read  that  work  will 
deny  that  there  runs  through  it  a  strong  flavour  of  sensuousness  if 
not  of  sensuality. 

Let  us  examine  the  description  of  Ophelia  which  I  have  extracted. 
"  Her  whole  existence  flows  in  sweet  and  ripe  sensation."  This 
seems  to  be  the  description  of  a  juicy  peach.  .... 
"  Decorum,  like  the  thin  crape  upon  her  bosom,  cannot  conceal  the 
motions  of  her  heart,  but  on  the  contrary,  it  betrays  them."  Here 
we  have  the  key  to  the  mystery.  To  Goethe's  eyes  Ophelia  pre- 
sented herself  as  a  voluptuous  girl,  with  richly-moulded  form,  the 
charms  of  which  (for  the  benefit  of  elderly  gentlemen  with  an  eye 
for  beauty)  she  was  by  no  means  chary  of  revealing.  Her  moral 
nature  suited  admirably  with  her  physical.  "  Her  imagination  is 
engaged,  her  silent  modesty  breathes  a  sweet  desire,  and  if  the  con- 
venient goddess  Opportunity  should  shake  the  tree,  the  fruit  would 
quickly  fall."  That  is  to  say,  she  was  only  chaste,  because  she  had 
not  been  tempted  to  be  otherwise. 

It  is  quite  consistent  with  this  luscious  conception  of  Goethe's  that 
she  should  try  to  lull  her  excited  appetites  to  rest  with  indecent 
ballads.  But  I  should  very  much  like  to  know  &what  justification 
Goethe  would  have  offered  for  this  passage :  "  Have  we  not  an  inti- 


150  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

niation  from  the  very  beginning  of  the  play  of  the  subject  with 
which  the  thoughts  of  the  maiden  are  engaged  ?  She  pursues  her 
course  in  silent  secrecy,  but  without  being  able  wholly  to  conceal 
her  wishes  and  her  longings."  I  maintain  that  we  have  no  such 
intimation ;  on  the  contrary,  that  every  word  Ophelia  utters  shows 
that  she  was  a  gem  of  modesty,  who  worshipped,  with  the  purest  and 
most  unsensual  love,  a  young  prinoe  of  great  intellect,  refined 
accomplishments,  and  such  a  nobleness  cf  character  as  might  well 
attract  something  more  than  the  animal  desire  of  a  less  virtuous  girl 
than  Ophelia.  I  have  no  doubt  Goethe's  description  may  seem  very 
poetical,  not  to  say  delicious,  especially  to  those  who  are  accustomed 
to  look  upon  every  maiden  as  chaste  only  by  compulsion ;  but 
an  Englishman,  in  whose  ears  Milton's  glorious  description  of 
Chastity,  the  Queen  of  Virtues,  is  still  ringing,  may  be  excused  for 
thanking  Heaven  that  Shakespeare's  Ophelia  was  not  Goethe's. 

One  more  passage,  and  I  leave  a  question  which  it  is  painful  to 
be  compelled  to  argue.  This  is  Goethe's  description  of  Ophelia  in 
her  madness.  "  But  at  length  when  all  self-control  is  at  an  end, 
and  the  secrets  of  her  heart  appear  upon  her  tongue,  that  tongue 
betrays  her,  and  in  the  innocence  of  her  madness,  even  in  the  pre- 
sence of  royalty,  she  takes  delight  in  the  echo  of  her  loose  but  dearly- 
loved  songs  of  '  The  Maiden  whose  Heart  was  Won,'  '  The  Maid 
who  stole  to  meet  the  Youth,'  and  so  forth."*  I  think  the  idea, 
expressed  by  the  sentence  which  I  have  underlined,  passes  all  other 
instances  I  know  of — what  some  might  call  by  a  harsher  name,  but 
which  may  be  more  politely  described  as  theinstincts  of  cour- 
tierdorn.-j-  Conceive  the  wretched,  distracted  maid  that  Shakespeare 
has  represented,  pausing  to  think  whether  she  was  in  the  august 
presence  of  royalty  or  not ! 

It  matters  little  after  this  touch  that  the  next  sentence  gives  the 

*  The  passage  runs  thus  in  Carlyle's  translation  : — 

"But  at  last,  when  her  self-command  is  altogether  gone,  when  the  secrets 
or  her  heart  are  hovering  on  her  tongue,  that  tongue  betrays  her,  and  in 
the  innocence  of  insanity,  she  solaces  herself,  unmindful  of  king  or  queen, 
with  the  echo  of  her  loose  and  well-beloved  song,  To-morrow  is  Saint 
Valentine's  Day,  and  By  Gis  and  by  Saint  Charity"  The  titles  given 
hsre  are  certainly  recognisable  as  lines  occurring  in  the  songs  in  question, 
bit  those  given  in  Mr.  Boylan's  translation  fairly  puzzled  me,  until  I  turned 
to  the  original  and  found  that  they  were  literal  translations  of  the  lines 
given  by  Goethe — "  Vom  Madchen  das  gewonnen  ward,  vorn  Madchen  das 
zum  Knaben  schleicht,  und  so  weiter."  I  suppose  Goethe  evolved  these 
ballads  from  his  inner  consciousness. 

t  Carlyle's  translation  is  the  more  correct.  The  words  in  the  original 
are — "  Und  in  der  Unschiild  des  Wahnsinns  ergetzt^ie  sich  vor  Konig  und 
Kb'nigin  an  dem  Nachklange  ihrer  geliebten  losen  lieder,  &c."  I  hope  I 
have  not  stretched  these  words  beyond  their  legitimate  meaning.  It 
certainly  seems  to  me  that  they  may  fairly  be  made  to  bear  the  construc- 
tion put  upon  them ;  and  that  the  omission  of  the  article  before  '  Konig ' 
and  '  Konigin '  shows  that  Goethe  intended  to  mark  the  fact  that  Ophelia 
enjoyed  the  echo  of  her  loose  songs  before  Claudius  and  Gertrude,  not  as 
individuals,  but  as  King  and  Queen— a,  circumstance  which  Ophelia,  in  her 
condition,  could  not  be  expected  to  regard. 


APPENDIX.  151 

very  false  impression  that  Ophelia  sang  more  than  one  indecent  song 
in  her  madness,  and  that  she  did  so  with  evident  enjoyment.  Such 
a  distortion  of  what  Shakespeare  has  written  is  on  a  piece  with  the 
whole  libel  on  Ophelia,  so  lamentable  as  coming  from  a  writer  who 
was  one  of  the  first  to  grasp  the  inner  meaning  of  Hamlet's  character, 


APPENDIX  E. 


ON  THE  SOLILOQUY — 
((  O,  WHAT  A  ROGUE   AND   PEASANT   SLAVE   AM  I." 

THE  first  words  of  this  soliloquy,  "  Now  I  am  alone,"  sometimes 
omitted  on  the  stage,  give  the  key  to  the  interpretation  of  this 
outburst — for  such  it  is — and  therefore  a  complete  contrast  to  that 
passionate  piece  of  calm,  reflective  self-communing  on  the  question 
of  suicide,  which  comes  in  the  next  Act.* 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  in  the  Quarto  of  1G03  this  soliloquy 
occurs  after,  and  not  before,  the  one  beginning  "  To  be,  or  not  to 
be,"  which  (together  with  the  scene  between  Hamlet  and  Ophelia) 
is  placed  in  that  edition  before  his  scene  with  Polonius,  and  that 
with  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern — in  fact,  the  first  words  that 
Hamlet  speaks  after  his  interview  with  the  Ghost  are,  "  To  be,  or 
not  to  be."  Some  people  prefer  this  arrangement,  because  they 
consider  that  it  lends  greater  force  to  Hamlet's  self-communings  on 
the  subject  of  suicide.  Ernesto  Kossi,  the  Italian  actor,  omits  this 
soliloquy,  "  0,  what  a  rogue,  &c.,"  altogether,  and  substitutes  for  it, 
"  To  be,  or  not  to  be."  This  appears  to  me  quite  indefensible. 
Other  representatives  of  Hamlet  omit  or  mutilate  this  soliloquy ; 
but  whether  they  do  it  from  modesty  or  presumption  I  cannot  take 
upon  me  to  decide. 

Hamlet  had  longed  to  be  alone  from  the  moment  that  the  strong 
emotion  of  the  player,  while  reciting  the  speech  about  Hecuba, 
awoke  in  his  conscience  the  pangs  of  self-reproach  for  the  remiss- 
ness  which  he  had  shown  in  fulfilling  the  solemn  duty  imposed  oiT 
him,  ;uul  suggested  to  him  the  idea  of  taking  an  important  step 
1o wards  the  fulfilment  of  that  duty.  By  a  supernatural  visitation 
he  had  been  informed  of  his  uncle's  guilt,  and  directed  to  punish 
him  ;  now  he  saw  his  way  to  obtaining  a  material  proof  of  that 
guilt,  which  would  make  the  punishment  a  task  less  repugnant  to 
his  over-scrupulous  conscience.  He  wanted  to  be  alone  that  he 
might  give  way  to  his  self-reproach,  and  might  at  the  same  time 
arrange  the  plan  which  had  occurred  to  him.  TTni*  tthfi  rnnrrmnt 
he  becomes  a  manof  action ;  with  few  words  he  dismisses  the 

*  I  have  referred  to  this  contrast  again  in  the  text,  page  39. 


152  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

players,  the  tedious  old  courtier,  and  the  two  double-faced  friends 
of  whose  insincerity  he  has  convinced  himself.  It  is  with  an 
enormous  sense  of  relief  that  he  exclaims — 

Now  I  am  alone. 
The  next  words — 

0,  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I ! 

should  not,  it  seems  to  me,  be  spoken  with  calm  self-contempt,  but 
with  a  bitterness  almost  furious.  Hamlet,  as  a  prince  and  a  man  of 
courage  and  honesty,  nseaMjie  most  injurious  expressions  that  he 
can  find  with  which  to  reproach  his  own  apathy  and  indolence. 
In  speaking  to  himself  of  his  own  faults  he  spares  no  term,  however 
opprobrious ;  and  the  indignation  he  feels  against  his  own  defects 
is  too  real  to  be  uttered  with  anything  but  the  most  impassioned 
vehemence.  As  he  recalls  the  emotion  of  the  player,  emphasising 
and  amplifying  every  detail,  his  indignation  gathers  force  ;  till  it 
culminates  in  the  eloquent  contrast  which  he  draws  between  the 
fictitious  wrong  which  excited  such  emotion  in  the  player,  and  the 
terribly  real  injury  which  failed  to  rouse  himself,  the  son  of  a 
murdered  father,  and  that  father  a  king,  to  any  action  or  even  to 
any  expression  of  indignation. 

.  I  have  pointed  out  in  the  text  how  Hamlet  virtually  refutes 
himself ;  it  is  sufficient  to  remark  here  that  the  actor  should  not  be 
deterred  by  the  paltry  fear  of  an  anti-climax  from  abandoning 
himself  thoroughly  to  the  passion  of  the  speech  up  to  the 
words — 

0,  vengeance  1 

at  which  point  Hamlet's  better  sense  triumphs,  and  he  regains  his 
self-command. 
The  expression — 

About,  my  brain ! 

has  been  commented  on  by  Gervinus*  and  others,  who  point  out 
that  we  should  naturally  expect  "  About  my  hands,"  or  "  arm." 
But  I  do  not  think  it  is  really  so  significant  of  Hamlet's  averseness 
to  action  as  at  first  sight  it  appears  ;  it  is  by  an  exertion  of  his  brain, 
not  of  his  arm,  that  he  hopes  to  entrap  Claudius  into  a  virtual  con- 
fession of  his  guilt.  It  seems  to  me  that  Shakespeare  intended  here 
to  represent  Hamlet  as  having  been  so  transported  by  passion,  that 
a  few  moments'  rest  was  necessary  before  the  effects  of  the  excite- 
ment would  allow  of  his  mind  resuming  the  idea  which  had  been 
suggested  to  him  during  the  actor's  speech.  The  word  "  Hum " 
which  we  find  in  the  text,  seems  to  prove  this.  The  actor  might 
pause  here,  as  if,  for  a  moment,  he  had  lost  the  clue  to  the  plan 
which  the  next  lines  develope.  So  far  from  weakening  the  effect 

\f  See  foot-note,  page  75. 


APPENDIX.  153 

of  this  speech,  it  is  much  increased  by  the  change  at  this  point  to 
a  calm  but  intense  reflection.  Hamlet's  intellect  has  regained  its 
sway.  Nothing  could  be  more  clear  and  vigorous  than  the  manner 
in  which  he  sketches  out  his  plan  of  action.  At  the  words — 

The  spirit  that  I^have  seen,  &c., 
and  more  markedly  the  line — 

Out  of  my  weakness  and  my  melancholy, 

a  great  opportunity  occurs  for  the  expression  of  that  gentle  sadness*  \ 
and  pathetic  self-distrust  which  are  remarkable  features  in  the  j 
complex  character  of  Hamlet. 

I  cannot  refrain  here  from  referring  to  the  new  force  given 
to  the  conclusion  of  this  speech  by  Mr.  Irving,  the  more  par- 
ticularly as  his  critics  do  not  seem  to  have  quite  appreciated  its 
full  significance.  He  takes  his  tablets  out  of  his  pocket  before 
speaking  the  words — 

I'll  have  grounds 
More  relative  than  this. 

The  precise  meaning  of  the  word  "  this"  and  what  it  refers  to  never 
seemed  very  clear  :  but  this  action  explains  it.  In  the  first  Act, 
after  the  Ghost  has  left  him,  it  will  be  remembered  that  Hamlet 
has  written  down  in  his  tablets  that  Claudius  was  a  villain.*  These 
same  tablets  he  holds  now  in  his  hand  ;  in  them  he  is  going  to  put 
down  some  ideas  for  the  speech  which  he  intends  to  introduce  into 
the  play  to  be  performed  before  Claudius,  with  the  object  of 
making — 

his  occulted  guilt 
....    itself  unkennel    .... 

(Act  III,  Scene  2,  lines  75  and  76.) 

Can  there  be  any  more  natural  action  than  this,  that  he  should 
touch  these  tablets  with  the  other  hand  while  he  says — 

I'll  have  grounds 
More  relative  than  this. 

i.e.,  "than  this  record  of  my  uncle's  guilt  which  I  made  after  the 
interview  with  my  father's  spirit  T' 

It  is  astonishing  that  the  significance  of  Mr.  Irving's  action  in 
bringing  out  his  tablets  before  these  words  seems  to  have  escaped 
all  the  critics.  The  fact  is  that  the  greater  part  of  the  soliloquy 
in  the  first  Act,  from  which  I  have  quoted,  has  generally  been 
omitted  by  the  representatives  of  Hamlet,  so  that  the  critics 
had  been  accustomed  to  pay  little  attention  to  it.  Mr.  Irving 
spoke  it  in  its  entirety,  and  did  not  forget  that  he  had  spoken 

*  See  Appendix  C. 


154  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

it.  It  is  on  sucli  minute  points  as  this  that  a  true  artist 
does  not  neglect  to  bestow  thought ;  with  such  an  one  ever)- 
movement  and  gesture  has  its  meaning,  and  is  the  result  of 
a  prolonged  study  of  the  character  he  is  enacting ;  such  pains- 
taking must  often  be  its  own  reward,  for  the  audience  of  a 
theatre,  as  a  rule,  do  not  think  at  all  of  the  entirety  either  of  the 
play  or  of  the  characters,  but  look  more  at  particular  scenes  and 
speeches,  in  which  they  are  accustomed  [to  see  certain  effects 
produced  without  any  regard  to  the  harmony  of  the  whole  con- 
ception, 


APPENDIX  F. 


ON   THE   SOLILOQUY 

THIS  soliloquy  has  suffered,  more  than  any  other  in  the  play,  from 
the  treatment  it  has  received  at  the  hands  of  the  actors.  Happily 
the  old-fashioned  Hamlet  (whose  oppressively  gloomy  appearance 
was  enough  to  give  one  an  indigestion),  stalking  down  to  the  foot- 
lights with  his  arms  folded,  solemnly  wagging  his  plume-laden  head 
(which  reminded  one  not  a  little  of  undertakers  and  hearses),  and 
after  more  than  a  decent  pause,  delivering  the  well-known  soliloquy 
in  a  sepulchral  voice — happily  this  portentous  ornament  of  the 
stage  is  rapidly  becoming  merely  a  nightmare  of  one's  boyhood. 
But  there  is  still  much  to  be  desired  in  the  "  Hamlet "  of  most 
leading  actors  with  regard  to  this  soliloquy,  which  demands  the 
most  natural  ease  and  studied  unconventionality in8  its  delivery. 
The  audience  should  be  made  to  feel  that  they  really  are  watching 
the  workings  of  a  human  mind  crushed  under  the  burden  of  a  life 
from  which  all  joy,  and  hope,  and  peace,  have  departed ;  of  one 
tempted  to  seize  the  terribly  easy  escape  from  such  a  life  which 
self-destruction  offers.  The  self-consciousness  of  the  actor  must  be 
sternly  suppressed ;  indeed,  I  should  strongly  advise  his  passing 
the  interval  between  Acts  II.  and  III.  in  perfect  quiet,  alone  in  his 
room,  trying  to  bring  his  mind  into  as  close  sympathy  as  possible 
with  that  of  Hamlet's  ;  so  that  when  he  steps  on  the  scene  he  may 
wear  a  pre-occupied  and  solemn  air,  as  if  he  had  really  been  debat- 
ing with  himself  this  awful  question.  We  do  not  require  a  super- 
ficial and  ponderous  gloominess,  but  a  tender,  thoughtful  melan- 
choly, both  in  the  expression  of  the  face  and  in  the  carriage  of  the 
body.  Weary  and  sad,  Hamlet  sinks  into  a  chair ;  then,  leaning 
his  face  on  his  hand,  he  seems  trying  to  pierce  with  his  eyes  the 
veil  which  divides  us  from  the  unseen  world. 

At  the  first  utterance  of  the  words  "  To  die,"  he  pauses,  as  if  he 
were  asking  himself  what  death  really  was  ;  then  he  continues,  in 


APPENDIX.  155 

a  less  solemn  tone,  as  if  his  mind  had  been  relieved  of.  a  great 
"burden  by  the  answer  which  his  self-communing  had  suggested  ; 

To  sleep  ; 

No  more  ;  and  by  a  sleep  to  say  we  end 
The  heartache  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 
That  flesh  is  heir  to,  'tis  a  consummation 
Devoutly  to  be  wish'd. 

The  picture  he  draws  is  of  something  too  happy  to  be  easily  realised. 
He  feels  that  such  a  peaceful  escape  from  all  the  troubles  which 
harass  our  minds,  and  wound  our  hearts,  in  this  world  cannot  be  so 
easy  or  complete  as  it  seems.  Then  he  repeats,  as  if  once  more 
seeking  to  find  the  real  meaning  of  the  awful  words,  "  To  die," 
putting  in  juxtaposition  the  synonym  he  has  chosen  for  them,  "  to 
sleep  •"  then — as  if  his  mind  had  only  just  awakened  to  the  full 
meaning  of  sleep — he  repeats  in  a  solemn  tone.  "  to  sleep  :"  sleep 
after  all  is  not  the  perfect  oblivion  and  peace  that  we  love  to  believe 
it  is — 

Perchance  to  dream  : 

He  has  found  out  the  reason  for  that  awe  with  which  we  approach 
the  idea  of  death,  the  source  of  the  mysterious  power  which  makes 
us  withhold  our  hand  when  one  blow  might  seem  to  promise  escape 
from  all  our  sufferings. 

For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come 
When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil 
Must  give  us  pause. 

Note  the  contrast  between  the  "  may  "  and  the  "  must  •"  the  mere 
possibility  that  we  shall  dream  during  the  sleep  of  death  is  so  tre- 
mendous, that  it  cannot  but  check  the  readiness  with  which  the 
grief-laden  sufferer  would  fain  free  his  soul  from  her  prison-house. 

There's  the  respect 
That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life. 

(The  word  "  long  "  should  be  emphasized.)  Hamlet  starts  up  from 
his  reverie ;  for  this  doubt,  at  least — the  hesitation  which  paralyses 
his  action  on  this  point,  holding  him  back  from  that  practical  escape 
from  his  troubles  which  suicide  seems  to  offer — this  much  at  least  of 
his  weakness  is  explained  to  ,his  perfect  justification.  He  enume- 
rates in  forcible,  picturesque,  language  the  many  sorrows  and  tor- 
ments which  life  has  for  all  of  us ;  and  his  reason  is  assured  that  no 
one  would  spare  that  one  thrust  of  the  dagger  which  might  at  once 
end  these  sorrows,  if  death  were  not  but  the  threshold  of  a  new 
life,  the  possibilities  and  capabilities  of  which  are  hidden  entirely 
from  that  same  Reason's  eye.  Of  that  blessed  security  which  the 
eye  of  Faith  alone  can  behold  beyond  the  darkness  of  death,  Ham- 
let says  not  a  word  ;  he  is  debating  the  question  of  suicide  from 
the  merely  philosophical  point  of  view ;  his  religious  conscience  was 
well  aware  that  the  peace  and  joy,  from  which  Christianity  knows 
that  Death  divides  us,  can  be  reached  only  by  those  who  patiently 
await  the  summons ;  we  may  not  invade  the  haven  of  rest  j  it  is 


156  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

only  when  the  good  ship  has  bravely  battled  against  the  storms, 
has  done  the  work  on  the  great  ocean  of  life  appointed  her  to  do, 
that  she  may  enjoy  such  a  peaceful  refuge. 

It  is  remarkable  that  all  the  sophistry  of  the  ancients  is  com- 
pletely annihilated  in  this  purely  rationalistic  speech ;  and  it  is 
impossible  to  rate  too  highly  the  skill  and  power  with  which 
Shakespeare  has  here  confuted  the  most  enlightened  heathenism 
from  the  exact  standpoint  of  an  enlightened  heathen.  The  slightest 
allusion  to  the  beliefs  of  Christianity,  the  employment  of  any 
Christian  expression,  would  have  marred  all. 

There  are  several  verbal  expressions  in  this  soliloquy  which  are 
worthy  of  comment.  The  simile  of  taking  arms  "  against  a  sea  of 
troubles  "  has  often  been  brought  forward  as  an  instance  of  Shake- 
speare's carelessness  and  confusion  of  images.  But  I  do  not  think 
the  two  emendations  of  Theobald,  "  a  siege  "  and  "  the  assay,"  are 
required.  The  sense  is  perfectly  clear,  and  the  idea  of  multitude  is 
conveyed  better  by  "  a  sea  "  than  by  "  a  siege."  The  common  ex- 
pression "  a  sea  of  faces  "  will  occur  to  everybody  in  connection 
with  this  passage.  "  Slings  and  arrows  "  certainly  suggest  t{  siege  " 
rather  than  "  sea,"  and  justify  the  adoption  of  Theobald's  conjec- 
ture by  those  whose  minds  are  troubled  by  the  inaccuracy  of  the 
metaphor.  It  may  be  as  well  to  note  that  the  words  "  quietus  " 
and  "  sicklied  "  are  not  found  in  any  other  passage  of  Shakespeare's 
plays.  "  Bodkin,"  f  in  the  sense  of  a  dagger,  seems  to  belong  more 
to  Chaucer's  than  to  Shakespeare's  language.  "  To  grunt  "  occurs 
only  in  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  Act  III.,  Scene  1,  where  it  is 
used  in  its  more  proper  sense  of  the  noise  made  by  a  hog ;  here  it 
means  "  to  groan,"  and  there  seems  no  reason  why  Shakespeare 
should  not  have  employed  the  more  elegant  word.  These  and  other 
verbal  peculiarities  of  this  soliloquy  incline  us  to  believe  that 
Shakespeare  founded  it  on  some  passage  in  an  early-printed  work 
which  he  had  come  across  in  the  course  of  his  miscellaneous  read- 
ings :  the  similarities  pointed  out  between  Hamlet's  words  here  and 
the  book  entitled  "  Cardanus'  Comforte  "  may  not  be  very  strong, 
but  they  are  sufficiently  remarkable  to  justify  the  conjecture  that 
Shakespeare  had  that  work  in  his  mind  when  writing  this  speech. 
(See  Hunter's  "  Illustrations/'  vol.  ii.,  pages  243  and  244.)  I  do  not 
despair  of  yet  finding  some  other  passage  in  old  English  literature 

*  "Quietus"  occurs  in  the  Sonnets  (cxxvi.).  It  is  a  purely  legal  .term, 
and  was  no  doubt  suggested  by  "  the  law's  delay."  (See  Hunter's  "  Illus- 
trations," vol.  ii.,  page  241.)  The  Italians  still  write  "  per  quietanza  "  in 
giving  the  receipt  for  a  bill. 

+  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  agree  with  Hunter,  that  "bodkin"  here 
does  not  mean  dagger,  but  a  woman's  bodkin,  or  perhaps  a  "writing-steel," 
or  "  stylus."  (See  the  passage  quoted  in  Richardson's  Dictionary  sub  ' '  Bod- 
kin," from  Holland's  translation  of  Suetonius — "  doe  nothing  else  but  catch 
flies,  and  with  the  sharp  point  of  a  bodkin  or  writing-steel  prick  them 
through.")  I  think  there  is  no  doubt  that  Hamlet  wishes  to  mention  the 
most  contemptible  instrument  which  could  take  away  life. 


APPENDIX.  157 

which  may  have  suggested  to  Shakespeare  the  train  of  reasoning 
as  well  as  some  of  the  more  peculiar  expressions  here  employed. 

How  very  different  was  the  original  conception  of  this  remarkable 
soliloquy  may  be  seen  by  comparing  the  text  of  the  Quarto  (1603) 
with  that  of  the  play  in  its  present  shape.  Of  the  different 
position  which  it  occupies  in  the  play  T  have  already  spoken  :  but 
that  is  comparatively  unimportant ;  not  so  the  very  different  treat- 
ment of  the  subject  shown  in  this  passage  : — 

For  in  that  dreame  of  death,  when  wee  awake 

And  borne  before  an  everlasting  judge, 

From  whence  no  passenger  ever  return'd, 

The  undiscovered  country,  at  whose  sight 

The  happy  smile,  and  the  accursed  damn'd. 

But  for  this,  the  joyful  hope  of  this, 

Whol'd  bear  the  scornes  and  flattery  of  the  world,  &c.  &c. 

******    wjlo  woui(j  this  indure, 
But  for  a  hope  of  something  after  death. 

Here  it  is  not  the  dread  of  "  something  after  death,"  but  the  joyful 
hope  of  it,  which  makes  a  man  bear  the  ills  of  life  rather  than 
escape  from  them  by  self-destruction.  The  difference  is  very 
remarkable. 


APPENDIX  G. 

ON    THE   PLAY    SCENE. 

IT  was  probably  intended  by  Shakespeare  that  Hamlet  should 
burst  out  into  snatches  of  song ;  but  as  many  representatives  of  the 
character  may  not  be  able  to  sing,  it  would  not  do  to  insist  on  this 
point.  It  is  more  important  to  note  that  the  state  of  Hamlet's 
mind  is  here  almost  precisely  similar  to  what  it  was  at  the  end 
of  Act  I.  after  his  interview  with  the  Ghost.  Then  his  first 
vague  suspicion  of  his  uncle's  guilt  had  been  confirmed  by  the 
supernatural  evidence  of  his  father's  spirit ;  now  it  has  been  ren- 
dered a  positive  certainty  by  the  natural  evidence  of  a  guilty  con- 
science, which  Claudius  has  displayed  when  witnessing  the  mimic 
representation  of  the  crime  which  he  had  committed.  On  both 
occasions  the  tension  of  Hamlet's  nerves  is  so  great  that  the  excite- 
ment of  his  brain  reaches  almost  to  the  verge  of  madness.  It  is  a 
gieat  pity  that  here,  as  at  the  end  of  the  Act  I.,  no  representative 
of  Hamlet  on  the  stage  ventures  to  speak  the  words  as  they  are  set 
down ;  some  omit  one  portion,  some  another,  while  Signer  Salvini 
gets  rid  of  the  difficulty  by  omitting  all,*  and  simply  falling  on 

*  Mr.  Irving  speaks  only  the  lines  beginning  ' '  For  thou  dost  know,  0 
Damon  dear,"  &c.,  giving  a  new  force  to  the  word  "pa jock"  or  "peacock," 
which  Hamlet  substitutes  for  the  manifest  rhyme  "  ass  "  by  looking  at  the 
fan  of  peacock's  feathers  which  he  had  borrowed  from  Ophelia,  and  held  in 
his  hand  during  the  representation  of  the  play,  as  if  that  had  suggested  to 
him  the  substitution. 


158      .  A  STUDY   OP  HAMLET. 

Horatio's  neck.  The  subtlety  with  which  Shakespeare  has  here 
portrayed  the  rapid  transitions  which  characterise  nervous  excite- 
ment in  a  nature  like  that  of  Hamlet's  is  much  obscured  and  weak- 
ened by  any  omission.  Mark  the  words  which  follow  those  given 
in  the  text : — 

Would  not  this,  sir,  and  a  forest  of  feathers— if  the  rest  of  my  fortunes 
turn  Turk  with  me — with  two  Provincial  roses  on  my  razed  shoes,  get  me  a 
fellowship  in  a  cry  of  players,  sir  ? 

How  strongly  they  display  that  childish  exultation  at  the  success  of 
his  scheme,  which  I  have  elsewhere  noticed  as  so  characteristic  of 
Hamlet.  Horatio  falls  into  his  humour,  and  answers  : — 

Half  a  share  ; 
to  which  Hamlet  rejoins — -• 

A  whole  one,  I ; 

and  then,  putting  one  hand  on  Horatio's  shoulder,  bursts  out  into 
the  verse  : — - 

For  thou  dost  know,  0  Damon  dear, 

This  realm  dismantled  was 
Of  Jove  himself  ;  and  now  reigns  here 

A  very,  very— pajock. 
Hon.  You  might  have  rhymed. 

Hanilet  now  becomes  for  a  moment  more  serious  : 

0  good  Horatio,  I'll  take  the  Ghost's  word  for  a  thousand  pound.  Didst 
perceive  ? 

HOE.    Very  well,  my  lord. 

HAM.  Upon  the  talk  of  the  poisoning  ? 

HOE.    I  did  very  well  note  him. 

Then,  as  if  he  did  not  dare  to  allow  his  mind  to  dwell  upon  the 
subject,  Hamlet  cries  out — 

Ah,  ha  !    Come,  some  music  !  come,  the  recorders  ! 
For  if  the  King  like  not  the  comedy, 
Why  then,  belike,  he  likes  it  not,  perdy. 
Come,  some  music  ! 

This  seeking  the  distraction  of  music  is  very  remarkable,  and  tends 
to  support  the  theory  of  those  who  hold  that  at  this  point  Hamlet 
is  virtually  mad.  I  do  not  myself  go  so  far  as  that,  but  it  is  certain 
that  he  here  feels  the  strain  upon  his  mind  greater  than  he  can 
bear,  and  that  no  one  is  more  acutely  sensible,  than  he  himself  is, 
how  near  he  is  to  that  boundary  which  separates  excitement  from 
insanity. 

What  I  have  said  above  as  to  the  conduct  of  actors  in  this  scene 
does  not  apply  either  to  Mr.  Irving  or  to  Signer  Salvini,  but  gene- 
rally, when  represented  on  the  stage,  Shakespeare's  meaning  seems 
to  me  so  much  obscured,  that  I  have  ventured  to  insert  here  some 
stage  directions  derived  from  a  careful  study  of  the  text,  which  may 
facilitate  a  student  of  "  Hamlet  "  in  understanding  the  meaning  of 


APPENDIX.  159 

the  speeches  here  set  down  for  him.  There  are  two  objects  which 
Hamlet  has  especially  in  view — the  iirst  is  to  seem  to  be  in  very 
high  spirits,  the  next  is,  under  cover  of  assumed  gaiety,  to  watch 
most  closely  the  demeanour  of  Claudius.  When  the  King,  Queen, 
and  Court  enter,  they  come  prepared  to  witness  an  entertainment 
especially  provided  for  them  by  Hamlet ;  the  very  fact  that  he 
should  have  turned  his  attention  to  such  a  subject  has  naturally 
caused  much  delight  to  his  uncle  and  to  his  mother ;  to  the  former, 
because  it  seemed  to  relieve  him  from  the  vague  fear  that  his 
nephew's  brooding  melancholy  arose  from  his  suspecting  the  true 
cause  of  his  father's  death ;  to  the  latter,  because,  with  all  her  faults, 
she  loved  her  son,  and  was  glad  of  his  taking  pleasure  in  anything. 
Hamlet  avails  himself  of  his  privileges,  as  a  supposed  madman, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  making  his  apparently  gay  sallies  of 
humour  as  bitter  as  possible  to  the  feelings  of  those  to  whom  they 
were  addressed  ;  but  the  actor  should  beware  of  allowing  this  bitter- 
ness to  affect  the  tone  of  his  voice — for  instance,  the  speech  to 
Ophelia — 

What  should  a  man  do  but  be  merry  ?  for,  look  you,  how  cheerfully  my 
mother  looks,  and  my  father  died  within' s  two  hours — 

should  be  uttered  with  perfect  unconsciousness,  as  well  as  the  fol- 
lowing one ;  in  fact,  he  should  display  an  exaggerated  levity,  in 
which  the  exaggeration  should  be  just  sufficiently  marked  to  show 
that  it  is  the  cloak  which  he  purposely  assumes  to  conceal  his 
nervous  agitation.  Again,  the  words — 

As  woman's  love — 

should  be  spoken  in  a  light  tone  of  satire,  with  a  rapid  glance  at 
Ophelia,  which  is  instantly  diverted  to  the  stage,  on  which  the 
Players  now  appear. 

It  has  always  been  the  custom  for  the  representative  of  Hamlet 
to  hold  something  in  his  hand,  with  which  to  conceal  the  workings 
of  his  countenance  as  he  watches  the  King ;  generally  the  actor 
takes  Ophelia's  fan ;  but  I  think  Fechter  and  Salvini  are  right  in 
substituting  a  manuscript,  supposed  to  contain  the  speeches  as 
altered  and  added  to  by  Hamlet.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  Hamlet 
does  not  interrupt  the  Players  for  some  time,  except  with  the  one 
exclamation — 

Wormwood,  wormwood. 

Shakespeare  has,  like  a  true  artist,  given  time  for  the  mimic 
representation  to  work  upon  the  conscience  of  Claudius,  whose 
attention,  at  first  carelessly  bestowed  upon  the  Players,  grows  ab- 
sorbed as  he  gradually  perceives  the  drift  of  what  they  are  repre- 
senting. The  force  of  this  scene  would  be  much  increased  if  the 
actor  who  plays  the  part  of  Claudius  would  observe  more  carefully 
this  subtle  touch  of  Shakespeare's,  and  would  pass  gradually  from 
unforced  gaiety  at  the  beginning  of  the  scene  to  indifference  assumed 


160  A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 

with,  effort,  and  finally,  to  agitation  which  he  can  no  longer  conceal. 
After  the  exit  of  the  Player  Queen,  Hamlet  turns  to  his  mother  ; 
with  an  affectation  of  easy  politeness  he  asks  her  — 


Madam,  how  like  you  this  play  ? 
y  doth  protest  too  much, 
HAM.      0,  hut  she'll  keep  her  word. 


QUEEN.  The  lady  doth  protest  too  much,  methinks. 


In  saying  this  he  turns  away  from  the  Queen  and  looks  at  Claudius, 
who  has  recovered  self-possession  enough  to  trust  himself  to  speak. 

KING.  Have  you  heard  the  argument  ?    Is  there  no  offence  in't  ? 
HAM.    No,  no,  they  do  but  jest,  poison  in  jest  ;  no  offence  i'  the  world. 

This  is  said  with  light  irony.  The  King,  mastering  his  agitation, 
asks  with  assumed  indifference  — 

KINO.  What  do  you  call  the  play  ? 

HAM.  The  Mouse-trap.  Marry,  how  ?  Tropically.  This  play  is  the 
image  of  a  murder  done  in  Vienna  :  Gonzago  is  the  duke's  name  ; 
his  wife,  Baptista  :  you  shall  see  anon  ;  'tis  a  knavish  piece  of 
work  :  hut  what  o'  that  ?  your  Majesty  and  we  that  have  free 
aouls,  it  touches  us  not  :  lee  the  galled  jade  wince,  our  withers 
are  unwrung. 

I  have  often  heard  this  speech  spoken  with  far  too  manifest  in- 
tention ;  it  seems  to  me  that  Hamlet  is  anxious  rather  to  remove 
any  suspicion  of  his  real  purpose  in  causing  this  play  to  be  repre- 
sented :  it  is  with  great  difficulty  that  he  restrains  himself,  but  he 
does  do  so,  remembering  that  the  representation  of  his  father's 
murder,  on  which  he  mainly  relied  in  his  attempt  to  make  the 
occulted  guilt  of  Claudius  unkennel  itself,  was  yet  to  come.  The 
murderer  now  enters  on  the  scene  ;  Hamlet  announces  his  name  — 

This  is  one  Lucianus,  nephew  to  the  king. 
OPH.   You  are  as  good  as  a  chorus,  my  lord. 

HAM.  I  could  interpret  between  you  and  your  love,  if  I.  could  see  the 
puppets  dallying. 

In  speaking  this  line  Hamlet  should  not  look  at  Ophelia,  but  keep 
his  eyes  on  the  Player.  We  are  coming  now  to  the  most  impor- 
tant speech  which  he  had  inserted,  and  he  is  feverishly  anxious 
that  the  actor  should  speak  the  speech  correctly  : 

Begin,  murderer,  leave  thy  damnable  faces,  and  begin.     Come:  "The 
croaking  raven  doth  bellow  for  revenge." 

It  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  now  represses  his*  excite- 
ment, and  is  obliged  to  give  himself  the  vent  of  exaggerated  lan- 
guage. During  the  speech  of  Lucianus,  who  is  in  the  act  of  pouring 
the  poison  into  the  sleeper's  ear,  he  watches  the  King's  face  with 
the  most  intense  eagerness.  The  next  speech  is  the  one  to  the  ordi- 
nary interpretation  of  which  I  have  so  strongly  objected  :  — 

HAM.  He  poisons  him  i'  the  garden  for  his  estate.  His  name's  Gonzago  : 
the  story  is  extant,  and  written  in  very  choice  Italian  :  you  shall 
see  anon  how  the  murderer  gets  the  love  of  Gonzago's  wife. 


APPENDIX.  1G1 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  excitement  of  Hamlet  should  be  here  vio- 
lently suppressed,  and  that  he  should  not  give  way  to  it  until  the 
King  and  Court  have  all  left.  Claudius  does  not  rise  till  the  end 
of  this  speech,  and  for  a  moment  he  is  unable  to  speak.  The  Queen 
evidently  thinks  that  he  is  going  to  swoon,  which  very  likely  was 
not  far  from  the  truth  ;  but  he  recovers  himself  by  a  great  effort, 
and,  calling  for  lights,  hurries  away  :  now  Hamlet  can  let  loose  his 
pent-up  excitement,  which  he  does  in  the  lines  on  which  I  have 
already  commented  at  the  beginning  of  this  Appendix. 


APPENDIX  H. 

ON   THE    SOLILOQUY,  *"  NOW   MIGHT    I   DO    IT   PAT,"    ETC. 

Now  might  I  do  it  pat,  now  he  is  praying, 

And  now  I'll  do't :  and  so  he  goes  to  heaven  : 

And  so  am  I  revenged.     That  would  be  scann'd  : 

A  villain  kills  my  father  ;  and  for  that, 

I,  his  sole  son,  do  this  same  villain  send 

To  heaven. 

0,  this  is  hire  and  salary,  not  revenge. 

He  took  my  father  grossly,  full  of  bread, 

With  all  his  crimes  broad  blown,  as  flush  as  May  ; 

And  how  his  audit  stands  who  knows  save  heaven  ? 

But  in  our  circumstance  and  course  of  thought, 

'Tis  heavy  with  him  :  and  am  I  then  revenged, 

To  take  him  in  the  purging  of  his  soul, 

When  he  is  fit  and  season'd  for  his  passage  ? 

No. 

Up,  sword,  and  know  thou  a  more  horrid  hent  : 

When  he  is  drunk  asleep,  or  in  his  rage, 

Or  in  the  incestuous  pleasure  of  his  bed  ; 

At  game,  a-swearing,  or  about  some  act 

That  has  no  relish  of  salvation  in't ; 

Then  trip  him,  that  his  heels  may  kick  at  heaven, 

And  that  his  soul  may  be  as  damn'd  and  black 

As  hell,  whereto  it  goes.     My  mother  stays  : 

This  physic  but  prolongs  thy  sickly  days. 

I  give  here  the  words  of  this  soliloquy  as  I  have  not  given  them 
in  the  text.  It  is  very  interesting  to  compare  this  scene  carefully 
with  the  version  given  of  it  in  the  first  Quarto  (1603),  in  which  it 
stands  thus  :* 

Enter  the  KING. 
KINO.  0  that  this  wet  that  falles  vpon  my  face 

Would  wash  the  crime  cleere  from  my  conscience  ! 
When  I  looke  vp  to  heaven,  I  see  my  trespasse, 
The  earth  doth  still  crie  out  vpon  my  fact, 
Pay  me  the  murder  of  a  brother  and  a  king, 
And  the  adulterous  fault  I  haue  committed  : 
O  these  are  shines  that  are  vnpardonable  : 
Why  say  thy  sinnes  were  blacker  then  is  ieat, 
Yet  may  contrition  make  them  as  white  as  snowe  : 

*  See  Allen's  Reprint  of  "The  Devonshire  Hamlets"  (i.,  pp.  68,  59), 
London  :  Sampson  and  Low,  1860. 

M 


102  A    STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

I  but  still  to  perseuer  in  a  siune, 

It  is  an  act  gainst  the  vniuersall  power, 

Most  wretched  man,  stoope,  bend  thee  to  thy  prayer, 

Aske  grace  of  heauen  to  keepe  thee  from  despaire. 

(He  knccles.    Enters  HAMLET.  ) 
HAM.  I  so,  come  forth  and  worke  thy  last, 

And  thus  hee  dies  :  and  so  am  I  revenged  : 

No,  not  so  :  he  tooke  my  father  sleeping,  his  sins  brim  full, 

And  how  his  soule  stoode  to  the  state  of  heauen 

Who  knowes,  saue  the  immortall  powres, 

And  shall  I  kill  him  now, 

When  he  is  purging  of  his  soule  ? 

Making  his  way  for  heausn,  this  is  a  benefit, 

And  not  reuenge  :  no,  get  thee  vp  agen, 

When  heevs  at  game  swaring,  taking  his  carowse,  drinking  drunke, 

Or  in  the  incestuous  pleasure  of  his  bed, 

Or  at  some  act  that  hath  no  relish 

Of  saluation  in't,  then  trip  him 

That  his  heeles  may  kicke  at  heauen, 

And  fall  as  lowe  as  hel  :  my  mother  stayes, 

This  phisicke  but  prolongs  thy  weary  dayes.  [Exit  HAM. 

KING.  My 'wordes  fly  vp,  my  sinnes  remaine  below. 

No  King  on  earth  is  safe,  if  Gods  his  foe.  [Exit  KING. 

If  Shakespeare  founded  his  "  Hamlet  "  on  an  older  play  with  the 
same  title  or  treating  of  the  same  subject,  I  think  that  in  this  scene 
we  have  a  very  decided  instance  of  the  influence  of  the  older  work. 
The  elaborate  ferocity  of  this  speech  of  Hamlet's  is  more  in  "  King 
Cambyses  "  vein  ;  it  reminds  me  more  of  King  Hieronimo  than 
any  other  passage  in  Shakespeare's  works.*  True  it  is  that  in 
"  Othello  "  we  find  almost  as  great  ferocity  of  revenge,  but  there  it 
is  more  in  place,  both  as  regards  the  character  and  nationality  of 
Othello,  no  less  than  the  subject  of  the  tragedy ;  on  Hamlet's  lips 
such  language  seems  forced  and  unnatural ;  indeed,  its  only  justifi- 
cation is  that  it  is  intended  to  be  so. 

If  we  suppose  that  the  Quarto  of  1603  was  not  a  mutilated  ver- 
sion, but  a  rude  transcript  of  the  play  as  acted  (in  fact,  a  careless 
duplicate  of  the  Prompter's  copy),  and  that  it  contains  much  more 
of  the  older  play  unaltered  than  Shakespeare  afterwards  thought  fit 
to  retain,  how  we  must  wonder  at  the  exquisite  transformation 
which  the  first  rude  outline  of  the  King's  speech  has  undergone — 
into  what  a  luminous  and  majestic  form  is  the  dark  and  flimsy 
shadow  expanded  ! 

The  King's  speech  in  the  earlier  version  ends  with  a  rhymed 
couplet ,  this  would  seem  to  point  to  an  older  play  as  the  source 
whence  it  was  borrowed  ;  so  in  the  final  couplet  of  the  scene,  in 
which  Shakespeare  has  retained  the  rhyme,  though  he  has  altered 
the  language  with  great  effect.  The  original  is  bald  and  common- 
place— 

My  wordes  fly  vp,  my  sinnes  remaine  below. 
No  King  on  earth  is  safe,  if  God's  his  foe. 

*  I  do  not  include  that  revolting  play  "  Titus  Andronictts  "  among  Shake" 
speare's  works  ;  he  may  have  touched  it,  but  not  enough  to  wash  away  its 
original  brutality,  much  less  to  claim  it  as  his  own. 


APPENDIX.  ]  63 

How  much  lucre  forcible  and  poetical  is  Shakespeare's  finished 
version — 

My  words  fly  up,  my  thoughts  remain  below  : 
Words  without  thoughts  never  to  heaven  go. 

The  last  line  is  a  most  beautiful  and  true  thought  elegantly  and 
succinctly  expressed.  It  would  be  out  of  place  here  to  enter  on 
the  question  as  to  how  far  we  are  enabled  to  form  any  idea  of 
Shakespeare's  mode  of  working,  by  carefully  comparing  the  compa- 
ratively meagre  version  of  the  Quarto  1603  with  the  more  elaborate, 
and  avowedly  authentic,  copy  of  1604;  but  I  have  no  doubt  that 
a  patient  analysis  of  the  two  versions  will  yield  the  most  important 
results.* 

I  must  now  return  to  the  consideration  of  Hamlet's  soliloquy. 
.From  the  version  in  the  Quarto  1603  it  is  evident  that  Hamlet  is 
intended  either  to  enter  with  his  sword  drawn  or  to  draw  it  imme- 
diately he  sees  the  King ;  in  the  speech,  as  it  stands  now,  the 
sword  should  not  be  drawn  till  the  words — 

And  now  I'll  do't  : 

It  was,  therefore,  I  think,  an  unnecessary  exercise  of  ingenuity  on 
the  part  of  Mr.  Collier's  "  Old  Corrector  "  to  insert  the  stage  direc- 
tion "  his  sword  drawn."  Mr.  Collier  adds — "  ready  to  kill  the 
King  if  his  resolution  had  held  ;"  but  Hamlet  had  made  no  resolu- 
tion to  kill  the  King  at  this  moment ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  on 
his  Avay  to  his  mother's  closet,  and  comes  upon  the  King  unex- 
pectedly. Ernesto  Rossi's  entrance  in  this  scene  is  more  effective 
than  that  of  either  Salvini  or  Irving.  He  enters  with  his  head 
down,  as  if  deep  in  thought,  revolving  in  his  mind  what  he  should 
say  to  his  mother  that  might  rouse  her  to  a  sense  of  her  guilt ;  on 
seeing  the  King  he  starts  and  draws  back  ;  then  the  idea  of  killing 
the  kneeling  man  strikes  him  suddenly,  and  he  speaks  the  first 
line — 

"Now  might  I  do  it  pat,  now  he  is  praying  ; 

It  is  evidently  the  mention  of  the  word  "  praying  "  which  causes 
Hamlet  to  pause  ;  the  meaning  of  the  first  line  I  take  to  be  "  Now 
might  I  do  it  at  once,  now  he  is  on  his  knees  unable  to  defend 
himself,  and  so  absorbed  in  his  prayers  that  he  is  not  even  aware 
of  my  presence."  Hamlet  continues,  drawing  his  sword — 

And  now  I'll  do't : 

making  a  step  towards  the  King  at  the  same  time  ;  then  the  sight 
of  the  kneeling  figure  and  the  associations  of  the  word  "  praying," 
which  he  cannot  forget,  make  him  pause.  What  Hamlet  really 
felt,  but  what  he  would  not  admit  to  himself  that  he  did  feel,  was 

*  I  may  perhaps  mention  that  I  have  had  the  Quarto  1603  collated  with  ths 
text  of  the  complete  "  Hamlet"  verbatim  and  literatim;  and  that  I  hope  to 
be  able  to  publish  the  results  of  the  analysis  I  have  made  of  the  differences 
between  the  two,  which  are  much  more  important  than  is  usually  supposed. 

M2 


164  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

shame  at  the  idea  of  killing  a  man  so  defenceless,  and  so  occupied, 
as  Claudius  then  was.  Even  to  men  less  religious  than  Hamlet 
was,  there  is  a  kind  of  awe  which,  insensibly  perhaps,  associates 
itself  with  any  one  engaged  in  devotion  ;  at  that  moment  the  most 
violent  rage  and  hatred  may  well  pause  before  striking  their  victim. 
Hamlet  is  throughout  this  speech  playing  a  part ;  the  feeling  is 
not  real,  it  is  forced,  and  therefore  the  strained,  exaggerated,  lan- 
guage is  justifiable.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Hamlet  does  not 
hate  Claudius,  but  he  does  not  really  feel  the  malignant  vindictive- 
ness  which  his  language  expresses  ;  he  is  trying  to  deceive  himself, 
and,  it  may  be,  like  some  of  us  who  try  to  accomplish  that  end,  he 
half  succeeds  ;  he  may  half  believe  at  the  end  of  this  ferocious 
soliloquy  that  he  has  spared  the  life  of  Claudius,  not  because  his 
nature  shrank  from  Avhat  would  really  have  been  an  act  of  cowardly 
assassination,  but  because  his  vengeance  was  so  fiendish  that  he 
sought  to  kill  the  soul,  as  well  as  the  body,  of  his  father's  murderer. 
The  words — 

and  so  lie  goes  to  heaven  : 

are  uttered  after  a  pause,  as  I  have  said  above ;  a  pause  during 
which  Hamlet  may  have  caught  sight  of  the  effects  of  Ids  pro- 
posed act  of  vengeance,  not  only  on  his  victim's  soul,  but  on  his 
own;  the  corollary  to  this  proposition,  which  may  have  passed 
through  his  head,  is  "  and  I  (go)  to  helL"  But  though  his  actions 
may  betray  his  doubts  as  to  his  right  to  exact,  by  his  own  individual 
act,  a  life  for  a  life,  or  as  to  the  justice  of  the  principle  that  one 
murder  can  justify  another,  his  words,  spoken  to  himself,  must 
contain  no  such  admission.  The  Ghost's  accusation  has  been  con- 
firmed by  strong  indirect  evidence  ;  and  the  vengeance  enjoined  on 
him  must  be  executed—  but  not  at  this  moment.  It  is  remarkable, 
if  my  theory  of  this  speech  be  true,  that  Shakespeare  has  elaborated 
the  plausible,  if  detestable,  arguments  by  which  Hamlet  escapes 
from  the  necessity  of  immediately  killing  Claudius.  It  may  be 
said  that  the  dramatist  only  wanted  to  prolong  his  play,  but  I 
think,  even  if  that  were  his  purpose,  he  would  try  and  reach  it  by 
means  not  inconsistent  with  the  psyshological  problem  which  he 
has  set  himself  in  the  character  of  his  hero. 

The  whole  argument  on  which  Hamlet  proceeds  to  abstain  from 
action  is  ridiculously  false — it  is  based  upon  the  barbarous  assump- 
tion (quite  consistent  with  the  rude  and  vague  religion  which 
Hamlet  seems  to  profess)  that  any  man,  however  wicked  his  life 
may  have  been,  if  killed  in  the  act  of  prayer,  whether  he  be  pray- 
ing from  his  heart  or  no,  must  go  to  heaven ;  while  a  man  whose 
life  has  been  noble  and  pure,  if  killed  after  eating,  without  prepa- 
ration, through  no  fault  of  his  own,  must  go  to  hell.  This  is 
simply  the  meanest  superstition.  A  Catholic  is  bound  to  believe 
that  any  person  dying  in  mortal  sin  is  in  danger  of  eternal  dam- 
nation ;  also  that  any  sinner  truly  penitent,  who  dies  fortified  by  the 
rites  of  the  Church,  after  severe  contrition  for  and  full  confession 


APPENDIX.  165 

of  his  crimes,  will,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  obtain  everlasting  happi- 
ness :  but  the  sentence  may,  in  the  first  case,  according  to  the 
strictest  Catholic  doctrine,  be  remitted  by  the  same  mercy  that  is 
extended  to  the  latter  case  ;  moreover,  of  the  sincerity  of  the  con- 
trition God  alone  can  judge.  The  priest  must  (to  a  certain  extent) 
take  it  for  granted  that  the  penitent  is  sincere  in  his  sorrow,  110  less 
than  that  he  is  honest  in  his  confession.  However,  it  is  not  just  to 
expect  from  any  dramatic  poet  accuracy  on  such  a  subject.  The 
belief  which  Hamlet  here  virtually  professes  was  quite  general 
enough  among  semi-barbarous  Christians,  oven  in  Shakespeare's 
own  time,  to  justify  its  employment,  as  a  motive,  in  Hamlet's  case. 
The  language  used  by  Hamlet  in  this  passage  with  regard  to  his 
father  is  inconsistent  with  all  that  we  are  told  of  the  elder  Hamlet's 
character  elsewhere,  and  at  direct  variance  with  the  tone  in  which 
his  son  speaks  of  him  on  other  occasions. 

He  took  my  father  grossly,  full  of  bread,* 

With  all  his  crimes  broad  blown,  as  flush  as  May  ; 

And  how  his  audit  stands  who  knows  save  heaven  ? 

I  cannot  see  any  justification  of  these  words  in  anything  that  we 
are  told  in  Shakespeare's  "  Hamlet  "  about  the  murdered  King  ;  they 
can  only  be  explained  on  the  theory  I  have  ventured  to  lay  down, 
that  all  the  language  of  this  speech  is  wilful  exaggeration  on  the 
part  of  the  poet. 

The  expression — 

Then  trip  him,  that  his  heels  may  kick  at  haaven, 

recalls  very  forcibly  some  of  those  painfully  realistic  representations 
of  the  torments  of  the  damned,  which  are  to  be  found  in  various 
illustrated  books  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centurios. 

As  I  have  hinted  in  the  text,  the  real  explanation  of  Hamlet's 
conduct  may  be  found  in  the  words—- 
My mother  stays  : 

His  interview  with  his  mother  was  the  subject  on  which  his  mind 
was  really  intent. 

The  last  line  should  be  spoken  with  bitterness,  no  doubt,  but 
surely  not  with  that  air  of  mocking  banter  with  which  Salvini 

*  Malone  has  pointed  out  that  this  singular  expression  is  derived  from 
Ezekiel  xvi.  49  :  "  This  was  the  iniquity  of  thy  sister  Sodom  ;  pride,  ful- 
ness of  breai."  In  this  scene  there  is  another  obvious  referenca  to  Scrip, 
ture  in  the  King's  speech  : 

Is  there  not  rain  enough  in  the  sweet  heavens 
To  wash  it  white  as  snow  ? 

Perhaps  to  Psalm  li.  7  (see  "Clarendon"  Hamlet,  p.  183);  but  from  the 
passage  in  the  Quarto  1603  — 

Why  say  thy  sinnes  were  blacker  then  is  ieat, 
Yet  may  contrition  mike  them  white  as  snow- - 

I  should  say  the  reference  was  to  Isaiah  i.  18  :  "Though  your  sins  be  as 
scarlet  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow,"  &c, 


166  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

spoke  it.  Of  the  three  representatives  of  Hamlet,  Irving,  Salvini, 
and  Ernesto  Rossi  (who  alone  of  those  that  I  have  seen  give  this 
speech),  Rossi  is  the  only  one  that,  as  far  as  my  judgment  goes, 
produces  any  effect  in  it.  With  Irving  it  fell  undeniably  flat,  and 
little  less  so  with  Salvini ;  but  the  measure  of  success  that  Rossi 
obtains  in  it  does  not,  to  my  mind,  justify  its  delivery.  Explain  it 
how  you  may,  the  speech  is  odious,  and  I  do  not  see  that  it  is 
necessary  on  the  stage  when  some  portion  of  the  text,  at  any  rate, 
must  be  omitted.  If  the  virtue  of  selection  is  to  be  exercised,  I 
should  think  this  the  very  first  speech  that  might  be  selected  for 
omission. 

The  beautiful  soliloquy  beginning- 
How  all  occasions  do  inform  against  me, 

is  ruthlessly  sacrificed  by  all  these  three  great  actors.4*  If  one  is  to 
choose  between  the  two,  I  do  not  think  there  ought  to  bo  any 
hesitation  either  on  the  part  of  actor  or  of  audience. 


APPENDIX  K. 

ON   THE   TWO    PICTURES   IN    THE   CLOSET   SCENE. 

THE  question  as  to  how  the  two  pictures  alluded  to  by  Hamlet 
in  the  speech  beginning — 

Look  here  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this— 

should  be  represented  on  the  stage  has  given  rise  to  much  discus- 
sion, and  to  the  most  ingenious  conjectures.  The  fact  that  both 
Mr.  Irving  and  Signor  Salvini,  the  two  greatest  representatives  of 
Hamlet  we  have  lately  seen,  have  treated  this  passage  as  if  the 
pictures  existed  only  in  the  imagination  of  Hamlet,  has  inclined 
many  persons,  including  some  of  our  best  critics,  to  adopt  this  view 
without,  as  it  seems  to  me,  sufficient  consideration. 

I  propose  to  give  as  complete  an  account  as  I  can  of  the  various 
ways  in  which  these  two  pictures  have  been  arranged  by  different 
actors  in  the  part  of  Hamlet,  and  then  to  examine,  by  the  light  of 
such  evidence  as  the  text  presents,  what  Shakespeare's  intention 
probably  was. 

Of  the  "  business  "  (to  use  a  technical  term)  of  Burbage  and 
Taylor  in  this  scene  we  have  no  account ;  the  following  passage  in 
Davies'  tf  Dramatic  Miscellanies  "  probably  embodies  the  earliest 

*  Salvini  gives  a  few  lines  of  it— but  without  any  of  the  circumstances 
(such  as  the  passage  of  Fortinbras  and  his  army)  which  occasion  it :  and  the 
mutilated  version  he  gives  of  it  is  quite  unintelligible. 


AITENDIX.  107 

•authentic  information  that  we  have  as  to  the  way  in  which  the 
two  pictures  were  represented  (vol.  iii.,  pages  106,  107)  : — 

"  It  has  been  the  constant  practice  of  the  stage,  ever  since  the  Restora- 
tion, for  Hamlet,  in  this  scene,  to  produce  from  his  pocket  two  pictures  in 
little,  of  his  father  and  uncle,  not  much  bigger  than  two  large  coins  or 
medallions.  How  the  graceful  attitude  of  a  man  could  be  given  in  a  minia- 
ture I  cannot  conceive.— In  the  infancy  of  the  stage,  we  know  that  our 
theatres  had  no  moving  scenes  ;  nor  were  they  acquainted  with  them  till 
Betterton  brought  some  from  Paris,  1662.— In  our  author's  time  they  made 
use  of  tapestry  ;  and  the  figures  in  tapestry  might  be  of  service  to  the 
action  of  the  player  in  the  scene  between  Hamlet  and  the  Queen.  'But,1 
says  Downs,  '  Sir  William  Davenant  taught  the  players  the  representation  of 
Hamlet  as  he  had  seen  it  before  the  civil  wars.'  But,  if  the  scantiness  of 
decorations  compelled  the  old  actors  to  have  recourse  to  miniature  pictures, 
why  should  the  playhouse  continue  the  practice  when  it  is  no  longer  neces- 
sary ;  and  when  the  scene  might  be  shown  to  more  advantage  by  two  por- 
traits, at  length,  in  different  panels  of  the  Queen's  closet  ?  Dr.  Armstrong, 
in  his  sketches,  long  ago  pointed  out  the  supposed  absurdity  of  these  hand- 
pictures.  The  other  mode,  of  large  portraits,  would  add  to  the  graceful 
action  of  the  player,  in  pointing  at  the  figures  in  the  wainscot.  He  might 
resume  the  chair  immediately  after  he  had  done  with  the  subject,  and  go  on 
with  the  expostulation.  However,  this  is  only  a  conjecture  which  I  throw 
out  for  the  consideration  of  the  actors." 

It  will  he  observed  that  Davies  does  not  actually  say  that  Bet- 
terton himself  used  the  miniatures,  though  lie  implies  it.  In  the 
accounts  which  Colley  Gibber  and  Steele  have  left  us  of  that  great 
actor,  in  the  part  of  Hamlet,  there  is  no  information  on  this  point, 
Steevens'  .Note  is  as  follows  :-— 

"  It  is  evident  from  the  following  words, — 

'  A  station,  like  the  herald  Mercury,'  &o. 

that  these  pictures,  which  are  introduced  as  miniatures  on  the  stage,  were 
meant  for  whole  lengths,  being  part  of  the  furniture  of  the  Queen's  closet  f  • 

1 like  Maia's  son  he  stood, 

'  And  shook  his  plumes.' 

— '  Paradise  Lost,'  Book  V. 

Hamlet,  who,  in  a  former  scene,  had  censured  those  who  gave,  '  forty, 
fifty,  a  hundred  ducats  apiece'  for  his  uncle's  'picture  in  little,' would 
hardly  have  condescended  to  carry  such  a  thing  in  his  pocket." 

To  which  Malone  adds  (vol.  vii.,  pages  391,  392,  edit.  1811) : 

"  The  introduction  of  miniatures  in  this  place  appears  to  be  a  modern  in- 
novation. A  print  prefixed  to  Howe's  edition  of  'Hamlet,'  published  in 
1709,  proves  thh.  There  the  two  royal  portraits  are  exhibited  as  half- 
lengths,  hanging  in  the  Queen's  closet ;  and  either  thus,  or  as  whole  lengths, 
they  probably  were  exhibited  from  the  time  of  the  original  performance  of 
this  tragedy  to  the  death  of  Betterton.  To  half-lengths,  however,  the  same 
objection  lies,  as  to  miniatures." 


168  A.   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

I  may  add  that  of  this  edition  (1709)  I  had  a  copy,  and  that  the 
pictures  Avere  there  represented  as  hung  on  different  sides  of  the 
stage  ;  but  I  do  not  know  that  such  illustr  itions  are  to  be  taken  as 
very  accurate.  Seymour,  in  his  "  Kemarks,"  is  strongly  against  the 
miniatures,  and  in  favour  of  full-length  portraits  (vol.  ii.,  page  185): 

"  It  is,  I  think,  an  egregious  misconception,  and  a  wretched  device  to  make 
Hamlet  come  prepared  with  a  couple  of  miniature  pictures,  for  the  purpose 
of  expressing  his  reproaches  at  the  Queen's  conduct,  and  to  utter  these  re- 
proaches while  he  is  seated  on  a  chair  : — the  pictures  pointed  at  are,  surely, 
the  portraits  at  length  of  the  late  king  and  of  the  usurper,  the  latter,  Ger- 
trude might  naturally  enough  have  introduced  into  her  closet,  while  pru- 
dence and  decency  still  retained  the  former  there  :  and  this  representation 
would  materially  improve  the  action  of  the  scene." 

He  quotes  Lord  Chedworth*  : — 

"These  pictures  should,  certainly,  be  whole  lengths,  hanging  in  the 
Queen's  closet." 

In  Hunter's  "  New  Illustrations  of  Shakspeare  "  there  is  the  fol- 
lowing note  (vol.  ii.,  pages  256,  257) : — 

' '  It  appears  from  the  notes  that  when  this  play  is  represented  two  minia- 
tures are  produced  by  the  actor,  but  that  formerly,  as  we  see  in  Howe's 
print,  the  two  pictures  were  half-lengths  hung  up  in  the  closet.  Perhaps 
Holman's  t  way  of  representing  this  part  of  the  scene  was  better  than 
either.  The  picture  of  the  then  King  hung  up  in  the  lady's  closet,  but  the 
miniature  of  the  King  who  was  dead  was  produced  by  Hamlet  from  his 
bosom." 

Caldecott  refers  to  Malone's  note,  and  adds  (note  85,  pages  89, 
90):— 

' '  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  such  was  the  furniture  of  the  stage  in 
our  author's  day,  and  that  the  respective  portraits  were  pointed  out  by  the 
finger  in  representation  :  and  such,  probably,  continued  to  be  the  course 
down  to  the  death  of  Betterton.  In  modern  practice  miniatures  are  pro- 
duced from  the  neck  and  pocket.  The  "  pictures  in  little  "  of  that  age,  of 
which,  in  common  with  his  contemporaries,  our  author  speaks  in  ii.,  2 


*  John,  fouith   Lord  Chedworth,  was  the  grandson  of  John  Howe,  of 
Stowell,  made  Baron  of  Chedworth  in  1741.     He    "was  a  man  of  most 
recluse  habits  and  eccentric  character,  but  of  some  minor  pretensions  to 
literature."     (See  "Collins"  Extinct  Peerage,"  by  Sir  E.  Brydges,  vol.  viii. 
p.  341.) 

NOTE.— I  am  indebted  for  this  excerpt  and  reference  to  the  courtesy  of 
Mr.  Harrison,  the  Librarian  of  the  London  Library.  I  failed  to  find  any 
account  of  Lord  Chedworth  in  several  books  to  which  I  referred. 

t  Holman  was  Joseph  George  Holman,  son  of  an  officer  in  the  British 
army,  descended  from  a  very  good  family,  educated  at  Oxford,  where  he 
was  not  undistinguished.  It  is  remarkable  as  showing  the  liberality  of  the 
then  University  authorities  that  he  was  allowed  to  keep  a  term  after  having 
appeared  on  the  stage.  (See  "  Biographia  Dramatica,"  vol.  i.,  part  i.,  page 
357.) 


APPENDIX.  169 

(Haml.  to  Rosencr.),  might  have  been  as  commodiously  used  for  this 
purpose  as  modern  miniatures  ;  but  by  this  process  the  audience  are  not 
permitted  to  judge  of  what  they  hear,  to  make  any  estimate  of  the  compa« 
rative  defects  and  excellencies  even  of  the  features  :  and  as  to  the  "  station  " 
or  imposing  attitude,  "  the  combination  and  the  form,"  it  is  impossible,  in  so 
confined  a  space,  that  these  could  be  presented  to  each  other  ;  that  of  these, 
even  the  parties  themselves  should  be  able  to  form  any  adequate  idea." 

In  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  "  Life  of  David  Garrick  "  I  find  the  following 
paragraph  in  the  account  there  given  of  Garrick's  Hamlet  (vol.  ii., 
page  65)  : — 

"It  was  a  pity  he  did  not  break  through  the  stale  old  tradition  of  Ham- 
let's  pulling  out  the  two  miniatures,  instead  of  the  finer  notion  suggested  by 
Davies,  of  having  them  on  the  tapestry — or  the  better  idea  still,  of  seeing 
them  with  his  mind's  eye  only." 

This  is  the  only  passage  I  have  been  able  to  find  in  any  book  on 
the  subject  of  "  Hamlet  "  in  which  this  suggestion  is  made,  and  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  Salvini  had  already  introduced  this  inno- 
vation, in  which  case  Mr.  Fitzgerald's  idea  might  not  be  so  original 
as,  at  first  sight,  it  appears. 

The  annotators  of  the  Clarendon  Series  "  Hamlet "  adopt  the 
full-length  figures. 

Mr.  Fechter  was,  I  believe,  the  first  to  avail  himself  of  the  two 
miniatures  in  a  manner  which,  whether  justifiable  or  not,  was  cer- 
tainly very  effective.  In  his  arrangement  of  this  scene,  the  Queen 
wore  the  miniature  of  Claudius  round  her  neck,  while  Hamlet  wore 
that  of  his  father ;  at  the  end  of  the  eloquent  description  of  the 
two  portraits,  Mr.  Fechter  tore  the  miniature  of  Claudius  from  off 
his  mother's  neck  and  flung  it  away  from  him,  while  he  subse- 
quently made  use  of  that  of  his  father,  which  he  wore  himself,  at 
the  last  "  good  night  "  which  Hamlet  says  to  his  mother,  by  point- 
ing to  it  with  pathetic  earnestness,  as  if  to  enforce  the.  remonstrance 
— "  go  not  to  my  uncle's  bed." 

Ernesto  Rossi,  when  I  saw  him  at  Naples,  had  much  the  same 
arrangement,  but  he  went  further,  and  not  oaly  tore  the  portrait  of 
Claudius  from  Gertrude's  neck,  but  broke  it  into  pieces  and  trampled 
on  the  fragments. 

I  have  here  collected  all  the  evidence  I  can  find  as  to  the  practice 
of  the  old  actors  in  this  scene,  and  I  have  mentioned  that  of  some 
of  the  more  celebrated  living  representatives  of  Hamlet.  I  have  also 
given  the  opinions  of  some  of  the  most- able  commentators  on 
the  point  in  question,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  both  practice  and 
opinion  are  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  actual  representation  of  the 
two  portraits  on  the  stage.  But  the  course  adopted  by  Mr.  Irving 
and  Signor  Salvini  has  found  favour  with  so  many  of  our  critics,  for 
whose  judgment  and  taste  I  have  the  greatest  respect  and  admira- 
tion, that  I  cannot  but  feel  some  hesitation  in  differing  from  them  ; 


170  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

yet  the  more  I  examine  the  language  of  Shakespeare  in  this  speech 
of  Hamlet's,  the  more  I  am  convinced  that  he  intended  the  actor  to 
draw  his  illustrations  from  real  and  visible  portraits. 
The  very  first  line — 

Look  here  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this— 

seems  to  me  totally  inconsistent  with  anything  but  two  actual  pic* 
tures  then  before  the  Queen's  eyes.  If  the  portraits  existed  but  in 
"  the  mind's  eye  "  of  Hamlet,  what  sense  is  there  in  his  using  the 
two  demonstrative  pronouns  1 — how  could  he  point  out  any  contrast 
between  two  portraits  which  he  had  not  yet  drawn  1  He  might 
have  said,  "  Look  upon  this  picture — -that  I  am  now  going  to  dra\v 
in  imagination,"  but  he  could  not  say,  "  Compare  it  with  this 
which  I  am  going  to  draw  afterwards."  The  word  "  counterfeit " 
seems  to  me  inapplicable  to  a  mere  ideal  representation ;  it  is 
always  used  by  Shakespeare  of  some  actual  imitation.  We  have, 
too,  as  every  reader  will  remember,  the  same  word  used  of  a  portrait 
in  the  well-known  passage  beginning 

Fair  Portia's  counterfeit  !    What  demi-god 
Hath  come  so  near  creation  ? 

There  Bassanio  is  describing  a  portrait,  and  a  portrait  of  remarkable 
excellence  and  accuracy.  The  beautiful  details  in  Hamlet's  descrip- 
tion are  naturally  suggested  by  a  visible  picture  ;  and  it  seems  to 
me  they-  would  lose  all  their  force,  as  far  as  Gertrude  is  concerned, 
if  they  were  not  actually  represented  before  her  eyes.  We  may 
gather  that  no  two  men  could  be  a  greater  contrast,  physically  and 
morally,  than  were  Claudius  and  the  elder  Hamlet ;  and  that 
contrast,  even  allowing  for  the  proverbial  flattery  of  painters,  must 
have  existed  in  their  portraits  :  the  eloquent  description  of  Hamlet, 
aided  by  the  actual  pictures  before  her,  would  impress  that  contrast 
so  forcibly  on  the  Queen  as  to  make  her  ashamed  of  her  infidelity 
to  her  husband,  even  on  Tzeiely  physical  grounds.  This  is  what 
Hamlet  aims  at  in  the  first  part  of  his  speech  ;  he  has  to  deal  with 
a  woman  of  hot  passions,  of  fickle  nature,  of  little  depth  of 
character,  and  certainly  not  possessed  of  a  vivid  imagination  :  how 
could  he  break  down  more  effectively  the  barriers  of  self-deceit  and 
shameless  lust  than  by  showing  her  that,  even  in  outward  and 
physical  charms,  her  paramour  was  glaringly  inferior  to  him  whom 
she  had  betrayed  ?  Having  thus  derided  the  personal  appearance 
of  Claudius,  Hamlet  proceeds  to  lay  bare  the  deformities  of  his  soul. 
Her  idol  has  been  subjected  to  a  rude  process  of  disenchantment ; 
the  mind  of  Gertrude  is*  the  more  ready  to  listen  to  the  vehement 
denunciation  of  his  crimes  which  her  son  now  pours  forth. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  essence  of  dramatic  writing 
consists  in  the  writer  being  able  to  place  himself  in  the  same  posi- 
tion and  under  the  same  circumstances,  to  feel  the  same  passions,  to 
be  influenced  by  the  sam3  motives,  as  the  characters  of  his  play  ;  the 
moment  that  he  begins  to  address  his  dialogue  more  to  tha  audience 


APPENDIX.  171 

than  to  the  characters  on  the  stage,  he  ceases  to  be  dramatic.  No 
dramatist  has  ever  preserved  the  individuality  of  his  characters  with 
so  much  care  as  Shakespeare  ;  nobody  has  ever  made  them  act  and 
react  upon  one  another  in  a  more  natural  way.  With  very  few 
exceptions,  and  those  only  in  his  inferior  works,  do  we  find  that 
Shakespeare  ever  makes  his  characters  obviously  talk  at  the  spec- 
tators, and  not  to  one  another;  his  poetry,  his  pathos,  and  his 
humour  very  rarely,  if  ever,  jar  upon  one's  sense  of  fitness ;  they 
belong  essentially  to  the  characters  in  whose  mouth  ho  puts  them. 
Now  it  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  eminently  un-iramatic  to 
make  Hamlet  appeal  solely  to  the  imaginative  power  of  Gertrude 
with  regard  to  the  "  presentment "  of  these  two  pictures  :  a  woman 
who  is  so  deficient  in  idealistic  and  imaginative  power,  whose 
fancy  is  so  little  impressionable  as  not  to  be  able  to  imagine 
that  she  sees  anything,  when  Hamlet  is  making  his  earnest  appeal 
to  the  Ghost,  would  scarcely  be  able  to  realise  the  pictures  in  the 
air,  which,  if  we  follow  Irving  and  Salvini,  are  the  only  pictures 
by  which  Hamlet  illustrates  his  eloquent  description.  I  must  not 
be  understood  for  one  moment  as  complaining  that  the  Queen  does 
not  pretend  to  see  a  Ghost  which  she  cannot  really  see  ;  I  am  only 
insisting  on  this  evidence  of  the  unimpressionable  nature  of  her 
ideal  faculties,  as  a  reason  why  Shakespeare  should  not  have  repre- 
sented Hamlet  as  appealing,  unnecessarily,  to  those  faculties  when  he 
might  so  easily  appeal  to  her  senses.  There  is  no  reason  why  the 
pictures  should  not  ba  there  ;  and  there  are  very  many  reasons  why 
they  should.  I  cannot  agree  with  those  critics  who  see  something 
intensely  artistic  and  poetical  in  making  these  pictures  exist  only 
in  the  mind's  eye  of  Hamlet :  the  real  poetic  beauty  of  the  passage 
lies  in  the  language  used  by  him  in  describing  his  father's  picture  ; 
and  this  beauty  is  no  more  lessened  by  the  fact  that  the  pictures 
are  absolutely  visible  on  the  scene,  than  is  the  magnificent  descrip- 
tion of  Cleopatra  in  her  barge,  given  by  Enobarbus,  to  be  depreciated 
because  he  had  absolutely  seen  what  he  so  exquisitely  describes.* 

As  far  as  concerns  the  actor  himself,  I  think  that  he  loses  much 
in  effect  by  the  absence  of  the  pictures. 

We  have,  then,  the  choice  of  several  ways  in  which  the  pictures 
might  be  arranged ;  if  they  are  miniatures,  Hamlet  could  either 
produce  them  both  from  his  pocket,  as  Davies  mentions  was  the 
custom  of  the  stage  since  the  Restoration  ;  or  he  could  produce  the 
one  of  his  father  from  his  own  breast,  while  that  of  Claudius  might 
be  hanging  round  the  neck  of  the  Queen ;  or  both  might  be  on  the 
Queen's  table.  The  mention  by  Hamlet  of  the  fact  that  pictures 

*  This  must  not  be  taken  as  expressing  any  partiality  on  my  part  for 
that  practice  of  presenting  to  the  audience  pageantry  only  referred  to  in 
Shakespeare's  plays  ;  a  practice  begun,  I  believe,  by  Charles  Kean.  What 
I  mean  to  insist  upon  is  that  no  poetic  description  is  less  poetic  because  the 
poet  himself,  or  the  character  through  whose  mouth  he  speaks,  has  actually 
seen  what  he  describes. 


172  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

in  little  *  .(i.e.,  miniatures)  of  his  uncle  were  being  sold  (Act  II., 
Scene  2,  line  349)  would  account  for  his  possessing  one.  I  have 
often  thought  that  most  of  the  objections  to  the  use  of  tho 
miniatures  might  be  got  over  by  having  two  full-length  miniatures, 
such  as  were  not  uncommon  in  the  time  of  Shakespeare,  on  the 
table  at  which  Gertrude  would  be  in  the  habit  of  sitting.  If  the 
pictures  are  represented  on  the  walls  they  should  not  be  half- 
lengths  ;  nor  should  they  be  opposite,  but  close  to  one  another. 
This  arrangement  would  seem  to  be  indicated  by  the  line  where 
Hamlet  speaks  of  the  portrait  of  Claudius — 

Like  a  mildew'd  ear, 
Blasting  his  wholesome  brother. 

He  could  hardly  say  this  of  two  pictures  at  a  long  distance  from 
one  another ;  indeed,  this  line  tells  very  much  in  favour  of  the  use 
of  miniatures,  as  with  them  it  is  very  easy  for  Hamlet  to  place  the 
two  pictures  close  to  one  another,  and  so  most  forcibly  to  illustrate 
the  simile  which  he  uses. 

On  the  whole,  I  myself  should  prefer  the  portraits  to  be  repre- 
sented as  full-lengths,  fixed  on  two  adjacent  panels  of  the  wall. 
In  Mr.  Drake's  "  Shakespeare  and  his  Times  "  (vol.  ii.,  page  119) 
I  find  the  following  passage  : — 

i1  Pictures  constituted  a  frequent  decoration  in  the  rooms  of  the  wealthy, 
and  there  are  numerous  instances  to  prove  that  those  which  were  estimated 
as  valuable  were  covered  by  curtains.  Olivia,  addressing  Viola  in  Twelfth 
Night,  says  :  '  We  will  draw  the  curtain,  and  show  you  the  picture. '  The 
same  imagery  occurs  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  where  Pandarus,  unveiling 
Cressida,  uses  almost  the  same  words  :  '  Gome,  draw  this  curtain  and  let  us 
833  your  picture.'  The  passage,  however,  which  Mr.  Douce  has  quoted  in 
illustration  of  this  subject,  as  it  decides  the  point,  will  supersede  all  further 
reference  :  'In  Deloney's  Pleasant  History  of  Jack  of  New'xry,  printed  before 
1597,  it  is  recorded,'  he  remarks,  '  that  in  a  faire  large  parlour  which  was 
wainscotted  round  about,  Jacke  of  Newbery  had  fifteene  faire  pictures 
hanging,  which  ware  covered  with  curtaines  of  greeue  silke,  fringed  with  gold, 
which  he  would  often  shew  to  his  friends.'" 

This  passage  has  suggested  to  me  the  idea  that  the  pictures  in 

*  The  passage  (Act  II.,  Scene  2)  — 

It  is  not  very  strange  ;  for  my  uncle  is  King  of  Denmark,  and  those  that 
would  make  mows  at  him  while  my  father  lived,  give  twenty,  forty,  fifty, 
a  hundred  ducats  a-piece,  for  his  picture  in  little — 

has  puzzled  me  much,  and  I  have  often  been  tempted  to  think  that  the  right 
sense  of  it  has  been  missed,  and  that  what  Hamlet  really  means  is  that 
now  his  uncle  is  King  of  Denmark  the  people  give  "  twenty,  forty,  fifty,  a 
hundred  ducats  a-piece  "  for  his  picture  on  gold  coins.  If  the  sums  named 
could  be  proved  to  be  of  the  same  value  as  of  coins  current  at  the  time,  I 
should  be  bold  enough  to  advance  this  theory  :  at  present  I  only  offer  it' 
as  a  conjecture. 


APPENDIX. 

the  Queen's  closet  might  be  fitted  with  curtains ;  and  that  while  the 
curtain  belonging  to  the  portrait  of  Claudius  might  be  drawn  aside 
so  as  to  show  the  whole  of  the  picture,  that  belonging  to  the 
portrait  of  the  elder  Hamlet  might  be  drawn  across  so  as  to  conceal 
the  picture.  When  the  Queen  asks  of  Hamlet — 

What  act, 
That  roars  so  loud,  and  thunders  in  the  index  ? — 

Hamlet  might  take  hold  of  her  hand  and  lead  her  up  the  stage,  or, 
at  any  rate,  turn  her  round  so  as  to  place  her  face  to  face  with  the 
portrait  of  her  late  husband.  He  might  then  go  up  to  the  portrait, 
and,  drawing  the  curtain  aside  with  a  grand  and  dignified  gesture, 
begin  the  speech — 

Look  here  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this. 

It  seems  to  me  that  this  business  (to  use  a  technical  term)  \vould 
give  the  actor  an  opportunity  for  displaying  much  more  grace  and 
dignity  than  he  can,  if,  as  Irving  and  Salvini,  he  remains  seated  in 
the  chair  and  merely  points  to  two  imaginary  portraits.  After  the 
words — 

What  judgment 
Would  step  from  this  to  this  ? — 

he  would  return  to  his  mother,  who  would  by  this  time  have 
begun  to  feel  the  shame  which,  at  last,  overwhelms  her.  This 
arrangement,  while  it  gives  variety  to  the  attitudes  of  the  actor, 
seems  to  me  to  lend  force  to  the  striking  contrast  which  Hamlet 
draws  between  the  two  brothers. 

It  is  probable  that,  though  Claudius,  as  I  have  said,  was  more 
jovial  and  voluptuous  in  appearance  than  King  Hamlet,  he  was 
much  inferior  to  his  brother  in  grace  and  dignity  :  the  contrast 
between  the  two  portraits  might  well  be  such  as  to  justify  Hamlet's 
language,  if  his  father  were  represented  as  standing  dressed  in  full 
armour,  in  an  attitude  of  defiance,  while  his  uncle  was  represented 
as  seated,  in  his  state  robes,  on  the  throne,  or  at  the  banquet- table, 
presenting  an  exact  antithesis,  in  his  realisation  of  mere  sensual 
splendour,  to  the  god-like  majesty  of  his  predecessor. 


174 


A  STUDY  OF  HAMLET. 


APPENDIX  L. 


Quarto,  1603. 
HAM.  ******* 

Enter  the  ghost  in  Ms  niykt  gowne. 
Saue  me,  sane  me,  you  gratious 
Powers  aboue,  and  houer  oner  mee, 
With  your  celestiall  wings. 

Doe  you  not  came  your  tardy  sonne  to  chide, 
That  I  thus  long  haue  let  reuenge  slippe  by  ? 
0  do  not  glare  with  looltes  so  pittifull ! 
Lest  that  my  heart  of  stone  yeelde  to  compassion, 
And  euery  part  that  should  assist  reuenge, 
Forgoe  their  proper  powers,  and  fall  to  pitty. 

GHOST.  Hamlet,  1  once  againe  appeare  to  thee, 
To  put  thee  in  remembrance  of  my  death  : 
Doe  not  neglect,  nor  long  time  put  it  off. 
But  I  perceiue  by  thy  distracted  lookes, 
Thy  mother's  fearefull,  and  she  stands  amazde  : 
Speake  to  her  Hamlet,  for  her  sex  is  weake, 
Comfort  thy  mother,  Hamlet,  thinke  on  me. 

HAM.  How  i'st  with  you  Lady  ? 
^  QUEENE.  Nay,  how  i'st  with  you 
That  thus  you  bend  your  eyes  on  vacancie, 
And  holde  discourse  with  nothing  but  with  ayre  ? 


HAM.  Why  doe  you  nothing  heare  ? 

QUEENE.  Not  I. 

HAM.  Nor  dee  you  nothing  see  ? 

QUEENE.  No  neither.        [father,  in  the  habite 

HAM.  No,  why  see  the  king  my  father,  my 
As  he  liued,  look  you  how  pale  he  lookes, 
See  how  he  steales  away  out  of  the  Portall, 
Looke,  there  he  goes. 

exit  rjhost. 

QUEENE.  Alas,  it  is  the  weaknesse  of  thy  braine, 
Which  makes  thy  tongue  to  blazon  thy  heart's 
But  as  I  have  a  soule,  I  swearc  by  heauen,  [griefe : 
I  neuer  knew  of  this  most  horride  murder  : 
But  Hamlet,  this  is  onely  fantasie, 
And  for  my  loue  forgtt  these  idle  fits. 

HAM.  Idle,  no  mother,  my  pulse  doth  beate 

[like  yours, 
It  is  not  madnesse  that  possesseth  Hamlet. 


Cambridge  Edn.  Shakespeare's  Works,  li 
HAM.  * 

Enter  GHOST. 

Save  me,  and  hover  o'er  me  Avith  your  wing; 
You  heavenly  guards  !  What  would  your  gra 

[fig 

QUEEN.  Alas,  he's  mad  ! 
HAM.  Do  you  not  come  your  tardy  son  to  c 
That,  lapsed  in  time  and  passion,  lets  go  by 
The  important  acting  of  your  dread  comman 
0,say! 


GHOST.  Do  not  forget :  this  visitation 
Is  but  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted  purpose. 

But  look,  amazement  on  thy  mother  sits  : 
0,  step  between  her  and  her  fighting  soul : 
Conceit  in  Aveakest  bodies  strongest  Avorks  : 
Speak  to  her,  Hamlet. 
HAM.  How  is  it  with  you,  lad 

QUEEN.  Alas,  IIOAV  is't  Avith  you, 
That  you  do  bend  your  eye  on  vacancy 
And  with  the  incorporal  air  do  hold  discours 
Forth  at  your  eyes  your  spirits  Avildly  peep  ; 
And,  as  the  sleeping  soldiers  in  the  alarm, 
Your  bedded  hairs,  like  life  in  excrements, 
Start  up  and  stand  on  end.     0  gentle  son, 
Upon  the  heat  and  flame  of  thy  distemper 
Sprinkle  cool  patience.     Whereon  do  you  loc 
HAM.  On  him,  on  him  !  Look  you,  how  pa! 

[gla 

His  form  and  cause  conjoin'd,  preaching  to  stc 
Would  make  them  capable.   Do  not  look  upon 
Lest  with  this  piteous  action  you  convert 
My  stern  effects  :  then  Avhat  I  have  to  do 
Will  want  true  colour  ;  tears  perchance  for  bl 
QUEEN.  To  whom  do  you  speak  this  ? 
HAM.  Do  you  see  nothing  the 

QUEEN.  Nothing  at  all ;  yet  all  that  is  I  s< 
HAM.  Nor  did  you  nothing  hear  ? 
QUEEN.  No,  nothing  but  ourselve 

HAM.  Why,  look  you  there  !  look,  how  it  si 
My  father,  in  his  habit  as  he  lived  !  [av 

Look,  Avhere  he  goes,  even  now,  out  at  the  poi 

Exit  Gl 

QUEEN.  This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  bn 
This  bodiless  creation  ecstacy 
Is  very  cunning  in. 


HAM.  Ecstacy  ! 

My  pulse,  as  yours,  doth  temperately  keep  ti 
And  makes  as  healthful  music :  it  is  not  mad; 
That  I  have  utter'd  :  bring  me  to  the  test, 
And  I  the  matter  will  re-Avord,  which  madne; 
Would  gambol  from.     Mother,  for  love  of  gr 
Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul. 
That  not  your  trespass  but  my  madness  spea 
It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place, 
Whiles  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within, 
Infects  unseen.     Confess  yourself  to  heaven  ; 
Repent  AA'hat's  past,  avoid  Avhat  is  to  come, 
And  do  not  spread  the  compost  on  the  weeds 
To  make  them  ranker.    Forgive  me  this  my  vii 
For  in  the  fatness  of  these  pursy  times 
Virtue  itself  of  vice  must  pardon  beg, 
Yea,  curb  and  AVOO  for  leave  to  do  him  good. 


APPENDIX. 


other,  if  euer  you  did  my  deare  father  lone, 
beare  the  adulterous  bed  to  night, 


.  win  your  selfe  by  little  as  you  may, 
ime  it  may  be  you  wil  lothe  him  quite 


mother,  but  assist  mee  in  revenge, 
,  in  his  death  your  infamy  shall  die. 


QUEEN.  0  Hamlet,  thou  has  cleft  my  heart  in 

[twain. 

HAM.  0,  throw  away  the  worser  part  of  it, 
And  live  the  purer  with  the  other  halft 
Good  night :  but  go  not  to  my  uncle's  bed  ; 

Assume  a  virtue,  if  you  have  it  not. 

That  monster,  custom,  who  all  sense  doth  eat, 

Of  habits  devil,  is  angel  yet  in  this, 

That  to  the  use  of  actions  fair  and  good 

He  likewise  gives  a  frock  or  livery, 

That  aptly  is  put  on.     Refrain  to-night, 

And  that  shall  lend  a  kind  of  easiness 

To  the  next  abstinence  ;  the  next  more  easy  ; 

For  use  almost  can  change  the  stamp  of  nature, 

And  either  ....  the  devil,  or  throw  him  out 

With  wondrous  potency. 


Once  more,  good  night ; 
And  when  you  are  desirous  to  be  blest, 
I'll  blessing  beg  of  you,     For  this  same  lord, 

(Pointing  to  Poloniue) 
I  do  repent :  but  heaven  hath  pleased  it  so, 
To  punish  me  with  this,  and  this  with  me, 
That  I  must  be  their  scourge  and  minister. 
I  will  bestow  him,  and  will  answer  well 
The  death  I  gave  him.     So,  again,  good  nig'ut. 
I  must  be  cruel,  only  to  be  kind  : 
Thus  bad  begins,  and  worse  remains  behind, 
One  word  more,  good  lady. 

QUEEN.  What  shall  1  do  ? 

HAM.  Not  this,  by  no  means,  that  I  bid  you  do  : 
Let  the  bloat  king  tempt  you  again  to  bed  ; 
Pinch  wanton  on  your  cheek,  call  you  his  mo  use  ; 


>UEENE.  Hamlet,  I  vow  by  that  maiesty, 
t  knowes  our  thoughts,  and  lookes  into  our 

[hearts, 

ill  conceale,  consent,  and  doe  my  best, 
at  stratagem  soe're  thou  shalt  deuise. 


SAM.  It  is  enough,  mother  good  night : 
me  sir,  Tie  prouide  for  you  a  graue, 
ho  was  in  life  a  foolish  prating  knaue. 


it  Hamlet  with  ike  dead  loJy. 


kisses 


And  let  him,  for  a  pair  of  reechy  '. 
Or  paddling  in  your  neck  with  his  damn'd  fingers, 
Make  you  to  ravel  all  this  matter  out, 
That  I  essentially  am  not  in  madness, 
But  mad  in  craft.    'Twere  good  you  let  him  know  ; 
For  who,  that's  but  a  queen,  fair,  sober,  wise, 
Would  from  a  paddock,  from  a  bat,  a  gib, 
Such  dear  concernings  hide  ?  who  would  do  so  ? 
No,  in  despite  of  sense  and  secrecy, 
Unpeg  the  basket  on  the  house's  top, 
Let  the  birds  fly,  and  like  the  famous  ape, 
To  try  conclusions,  in  the  basket  creep 
And  break  your  own  neck  down.  [breith 

QUEEN.  Be  thou  assured,  if  words  be  made  of 
And  breath  of  life,  I  have  no  life  to  breathe 

What  thoxi  hast  said  to  me. 

HAM.  I  must  to  England  ;  you  know  that  ? 

QUEEN.  Alack, 

I  had  forgot :  'tis  so  concluded  on.  [fellows, 

HAM,  There's  letters  seal'd ;  and  my  two  school- 
Whoni  I  will  trust  as  I  will  adders  fang'd, 
They  bear  the  mandate ;  they  must  sweep  my  way, 
And  marshal  me  to  knavery.     Let  it  work  ; 
For  'tis  the  sport  to  have  the  enginer 
Hoist  with  his  own  petar :  and  't  shall  go  hard 
But  I  will  delve  one  yard  below  their  mines, 
And  blow  them  at  the  mcon  :  0,  'tis  most  sweet 
When  in  one  line  two  crafts  directly  meet. 
This  man  shall  set  me  packing  : 
I'll  lug  the  guts  into  the  neighbour  room. 
Mother,  good  night.     Indeed  this  counsellor 
Is  now  most  still,  most  secret  and  most  grave, 
Who  was  in  life  a  foolish  prating  knave. 
Come,  sir,  to  draw  toward  an  end  with  you. 
Good  night,  mother. 
(Exeunt  severally;  Hamlet  dragging  in  Polonias.) 


176  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 


APPENDIX  M. 

Enter  HORATIO  and  the  QUEEXE. 

Hon.         Madame,  your  sonne  is  safe  arriv'de  in  Denmarkc, 
This  letter  1  euen  now  receiv'd  of  him, 
Whereas  he  writes  how  he  escap't  the  danger, 
And  subtle  treason  that  the  king  had  plotted, 
Being  crossed  by  the  contention  of  the  windes, 
He  found  the  Packet  sent  to  the  king  of  England, 
"Wherein  he  saw  himself e  betray 'd  to  death, 
As  at  his  next  conuersion  with  your  grace, 
He  will  relate  the  circumstance  at  full. 

QUEENE.  Then  I  perceiue  there's  treason  in  his  lookes 
That  seem'd  to  sugar  o're  his  villanie  : 
But  T  will  soothe  and  please  him  for  a  time, 
For  murderous  mindes  are  alwayes  jealous, 
But  know  not  you  Horatio  where  he  is  ? 

Hoi;.         Yes,  Madame,  and  he  hath  appoynted  me 
To  meete  him  on  the  east  side  of  the  Cittie 
To-morrow  morning. 

QUEENE.  0  faile  not,  good  Horatio  and  withall,  commend  me 
A  mothers  care  to  him,  bid  him  a  while 
Be  wary  of  his  presence,  lest  that  he 
Faile  in  that  he  goes  about. 

Hon.         Madam,  neuer  make  doubt  of  that : 

I  thinke  by  this  the  news  be  come  to  courb  : 
He  is  arriv'de,  obserue  the  king,  and  you  shall 
Quickely  finde,  Hamlet  being  here, 
Things  fell  not  to  his  minde. 

QUEEXE.  But  what  became  of  Gilderstone  and  Rossencraft  ? 

Hon.         He  being  set  ashore,  they  went  for  England, 

And  in  the  Packet  there  writ  down  that  doome 
To  be  perform 'd  on  them  poynted  for  him  : 
And  by  great  chance  he  had  his  father's  Scale, 
So  all  was  done  without  discouerie. 

QUEEXE.  Thankes  be  to  Heauen  for  blessing  of  the  prince, 
Horatio  once  againe  I  take  my  leaue, 
With  thowsand  mothers  blessings  to  my  sonne. 

Hon.        Madam  adue. 


APPENDIX  N, 

KING.  Why  this  his  madnesse  will  undoe  our  state. 

Lordes  goe  to  him,  inquire  the  body  out. 

GIL.     We  will,  my  Lord.  [Exeunt  Lordes. 

KINO.  Gertred,  your  son  shall  presently  to  England, 

His  shipping  is  already  furnished, 

And  we  have  sent  by  Eossencraft  and  GilderstonCj 

Our  letters  to  our  deare  brother  of  England, 

For  Hamlet's  welfare  and  his  happinesse  : 

Happly  the  aire  and  climate  of  the  country 

May  please  him  better  than  his  native  home  : 

See  where  he  comes. 


177 


APPENDIX  0. 

FOETINBRAS. 

WHO  was  Fortinbras  ?  This  question  does  not  seoin  to  have 
been  asked  by  any  of  the  best  known  commentators  on  this  play. 
He  is  described  in  the  list  of  characters  as  "  Prince  of  Norway," 
but  whether  this  means  that  he  was  the  heir  to  the  throne  of  Nor- 
way, or  only  one  of  the  chief  noblemen  in  the  country,  we  do  not 
know.  The  passage  in  which  Horatio  alludes  to  "  young  Fortin- 
bras,"  the  character  introduced  in  this  play,  and  to  his  father,  is  as 
follows  (Act  I.,  Scene  1,  lines  80—101)  :— 

Our  last  king, 

Whose  image  even  but  now  appear'd  to  us, 
Was,  as  you  know,  by  Fortinbras  of  Norway, 
Thereto  prick'd  on  by  a  most  emulate  pride, 
Dared  to  the  combat ;  in  which  our  valiant  Hamlet — 
For  so  this  side  of  our  known  world  esteem'd  him— 
Did  slay  this  Fortinbras  ;  who  by  a  seal'd  compact, 
Well  ratified  by  law  and  heraldry, 
Did  forfeit,  with  his  life,  all  those  his  lands 
Which  he  stood  seized  of,  to  the  conqueror : 
Against  the  which,  a  moiety  competent 
Was  gaged  by  our  king  ;  which  had  return'd 
To  the  inheritance  of  Fortinbras, 
Had  he  been  vanquisher  ;  as,  by  the  same  covenant 
A.nd  carriage  of  the  article  designed, 
His  fell  to  Hamlet.     Now,  sir,  young  Fortinbras, 
Of  unimproved  mettle  hot  and  full, 
Hath  in  the  skirts  of  Norway  here  and  there 
Shark'd  up  a  list  of  lawless  resolutes, 
For  food  and  diet,  to  some  enterprise 
That  hath  a  stomach  in't  :  which  is  no  other— 
As  it  doth  well  appear  unto  our  state — 
But  to  recover  of  us,  by  strong  hand 
And  terms  compulsatory,  those  foresaid  landa 
So  by  his  father  lost  : 

Now,  it  would  seem  from  the  linos — 

Hath  in  the  skirts  of  Norway  here  and  there 
Shark'd  up  a  list  of  lawless  resolutes, 

that  young  Fortinbras  was  not  "  Crown  Prince  "  of  Norway,  or  he 
would  hardly  have  been  driven  to  recruit  his  army  from  such 
sources.  In  Scene  II.  of  this  act,  Claudius  speaks  thus  of  young 
Fortinbras'  preparations — lines  17 — 33  : 

Now  follows,  that  you  know,  young  Fortinbras, 
Holding  a  weak  supposal  of  our  worth, 
Or  thinking  by  our  late  dear  brother's  death 
Our  state  to  be  disjoint  and  out  of  frame, 
Colleagued  with  this  dream  of  his  advantage, 
He  hath  not  fail'd  to  pester  us  with  message, 
Importing  the  surrender  of  those  lands 

N 


178  A  STUDY  OF   HAMLET. 

Lost  by  his  father,  with  all  bonds  of  law. 
To  our  most  valiant  brother.     So  much  for  him. 
Now  for  ourself ,  and  for  this  time  of  meeting  : 
Thus  much  the  business  is  :  we  have  here  writ 
To  Norway,  uncle  of  young  Fortinbras, — 
Who,  impotent  and  bed-rid,  scarcely  hears 
Of  this  his  nephew's  purpose, — to  suppress 
Bis  further  gait  herein  ;  in  that  the  levies, 
The  lists  and  full  proportions,  are  all  made 
Out  of  his  subject. 

In  Act  II.,  Scene  2,  Voltimand,  the  ambassador,  reports  to  King 
Claudius  the  results  of  the  embassage  : — 

Upon  our  first,  he  sent  out  to  suppress 

His  nephew's  levies,  which  to  him  appear'd 

To  be  a  preparation  'gainst  the  Polack, 

But  better  look'd  into,  he  truly  found 

It  was  against  your  highness  :  whereat  grieved, 

That  so  his  sickness,  age  and  impotence 

Was  falsely  borne  in  hand,  sends  out  arrests 

On  Fortinbras  ;  which  he,  in  brief,  obeys, 

Receives  rebuke  from  Norway,  and  in  fine 

Makes  vow  before  his  uncle  never  more 

To  give  the  assay  of  arms  against  your  majesty. 

Whereon  old  Norway,  overcome  with  joy, 

Gives  him  three  thousand  crowns  in  annual  fee 

And  his  commission  to  employ  those  soldiers, 

So  levied  as  before,  against  the  Polack  : 

With  an  entreaty,  herein  further  shown,  (Giving  a  paper) 

That  it  might  please  you  to  give  quiet  pass 

Through  your  dominions  for  this  enterprise, 

On  such  regards  of  safety  and  allowance 

As  therein  are  set  down. 

From  this  it  is  plain  that  Fortinbras  owed  allegiance  to  the  King 
of  Norway ;  but  that  he  was  very  near,  if  not  next,  to  the  royal 
dignity. 

This  scene  (Act  IV.  Scene  4),  the  first  in  which  Fortinbras 
appears,  throws  little  light  upon  the  question  now  under  discussion. 
It  may  be  as  well  to  transcribe  here  the  speech  of  Fortinbras,  which 
I  have  not  given  in  the  text : — 

FOR.  Go,  captain,  from  me  greet  the  Danish  king  ; 

Tell  him  that  by  his  license  Fortinbras 

Craves  the  conveyance  of  a  promised  march 

Over  his  kingdom.     You  know  the  rendezvous. 

If  that  his  majesty  would  aught  with  us, 

We  shall  express  our  duty  in  his  e}re  ; 

And  let  him  know  so. 

CAP.  I  will  do't,  my  lord. 

FOR.  Go  softly  on.  [Exeunt  Fortinbras  and  Soldiers. 

We  must  now  go  to  the  end  of  the  play  (Act  V.,  Scene  2),  when 
Fortinbras  reappears,  and  is  designated  by  Hamlet  as  the  probable 
euccessor  to  the  throne  of  Denmark  : — 

OSB.     Young  Fortinbras,  with  conquest  come  from  Poland, 
To  the  ambassadors  of  England  gives 
This  warlike  volley. 


APPENDIX. 

HAJf,  0,  I  die,  Horatio  ; 

The  potent  poison  quite  o'ercrows  my  spirit  j 

I  cannot  live  to  hear  the  news  from  England  ; 

But  T  do  prophesy  the  election  lights 

On  Fortinbras  :  he  has  my  dying  voice  ; 

So  tell  him,  with  the  occurrents,  more  and  less, 

Which  have  solicited.         .... 
HOK 

Why  does  the  drum  come  hither  ? 

Enter  FORTINBRAS  and  the  English  Ambassadors,  with  drum,  colours,  and 
Attendants. 

HOR 

But  since,  so  jump  upon  this  bloody  question, 

You  from  the  Polack  wars,  and  you  from  England, 

Are  here  arrived,  give  order  that  these  bodies 

High  on  a  stage  be  placed  to  the  view  ; 

And  let  me  speak  to  the  yet  unknowing  world 

How  these  things  came  about :  so  shall  you  hear 

Of  carnal,  bloody  and  unnatural  acts, 

Of  accidental  judgments,  casual  slaughters, 

Of  deaths  put  on  by  cunning  and  forced  cause, 

And,  in  this  upshot,  purposes  mistook 

Fall'n  on  the  inventors'  heads  :  all  this  can  I 

Truly  deliver. 

FORT.  Let  us  haste  to  hear  it, 

And  call  the  noblest  to  the  audience. 
For  me,  with  sorrow  I  embrace  my  fortune  : 
I  have  some  rights  of  memory  in  this  kingdom, 
Which  now  to  claim  my  vantage  doth  invite  me. 

Hon.    Of  that  I  shall  have  also  cause  to  speak, 

And  from  his  mouth  whose  voice  will  draw  on  more  : 
But  let  this  same  be  presently  perform'd, 
Even  while  men's  minds  are  wild  ;  lest  more  mischance 
On  plot  and  errors  happen, 

FORT.  Let  four  captains 

Bear  Hamlet,  like  a  soldier,  to  the  stage  ; 
For  he  was  likely,  had  he  been  put  on, 
To  have  proved  most  royally  ;  and,  for  his  passage, 
The  soldiers'  music  and  the  rites  of  war 
'  Speak  loudly  for  him. 
Take  up  the  bodies  :  such  a  sight  as  this 
Becomes  the  field,  but  here  shows  much  amiss. 
Go,  bid  the  soldiers  shoot. 

The  above  extracts  include  every  passage  in  the  play  which  can 
in  any  way  enable  us  to  answer  the  question,  "Who  was  Fortin- 
bras  ?"  The  prose  "  Hystorie  of  Harablet  "  does  not  help  us  much  ; 
there  the  elder  Fortinbras  is  represented  by  "  Collere,  King  of  Nor- 
way," who  was  vanquished  and  slain  by  Horvendile  (chap,  i., 
page  132,  vol.  i.,  Collier's  Shakespeare's  Library),  the  father  of 
Harnlet,  who  was  not  king  of  Denmark,  but  only  co-governor  of 
Jutie  (Jutland)  with  his  brother  Fengon.*  To  the  younger  Fortin- 
bras there  is  110  parallel  in  the  "  Hystorie." 

*  It  would  seem  that  the  Government  consisted  of  two  provinces,  as  we 
find  afterwards  that  Hamlet  was  proclaimed  king  of  "  Jutie  and  Cherson- 
nese,  at  this  present  the  proper  country  of  Denmarke  "—(chap,  vi.,  p.  171). 
But  Wiglerus,  the  brother  of  Hamlet's  mother,  and  son  of  King  Roderick, 
seizes  the  royal  treasure  and  the  kingdom,  on  the  plea  that  Horvendile  had 
only  been  a  tributary  and  holder  in  fief  under  King  Roderick. 

N2 


180  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

I  had  thought,  at  one  time,  to  have  been  able  to  prove  that  For- 
tinbras  was  king  of  Norway,  and  that  on  his  death  at  the  hands  of 
Hamlet  the  elder,  his  brother  had  seized  the  kingdom,  in  the  same 
manner  as  Claudius  had  seized  that  of  Denmark  ;  so  that  Fortinbras 
the  younger  would  have  presented  a  singular  parallel  to  Hamlet,  at 
least  as  far  as  his  disinheritance  was  concerned.  But  T  think  that 
the  passages  I  have  quoted  will  not  bear  this  interpretation.  We 
must  conclude,  therefore,  that  Fortinbras  the  elder  was  a  chief  of 
Norway,  nearly  related  to  the  king  by  blood  or  marriage,  perhaps 
his  brother  (if  not  by  blood,  at  least  by  marriage),  and  that  he  held 
territories  in  Denmark,  which  he  staked  in  the  single  combat  with 
Hamlet  the  elder,  and  lost :  thus  Fortinbras  the  younger's  claim*  to 
the  throne  after  the  death  of  all  the  direct  heirs  may  be  explained. 
It  is  to  this  that  he  refers  in  the  lines — 

I  have  some  rights  of  memory  in  this  kingdom, 
Which  now  to  claim  my  vantage  doth  invite  me. 

Hamlet's  reason  for  prophesying  that  the  popular  voice  would  be 
in  favour  of  Fortinbras  is  not  clear.  The  lines — 

So  tell  him,  with  the  occurrents,  more  and  less, 
Which  have  solicited, 

may  refer  to  nothing  more  than  the  various  tragic  events  which 
led  to  the  extinction  of  the  royal  family  of  Denmark,  and  to  the 
death  of  Laertes,  leaving  no  one  with  sufficient  pretensions  to  op- 
pose Fortinbras'  claim.  But  doubtless  the  great  admiration,  which 
Hamlet  expresses  (Act  IV.,  Scene  4)  for  the  character  of  Fortinbras, 
made  him  anxious  to  see  the  sceptre  of  his  father  in  such  worthy 
hands. 


*  ULRICI,  in  his  chapter  on  Hamlet,  has  the  following  passage  : — "  For- 
tinbras, in  whose  favour  Hamlet  gives  his  dying  voice,  possesses  an  ancient 
claim  and  hereditary  right  to  the  throne  of  Denmark.  Some  deed  of  vio- 
lence or  injustice,  by  which  his  family  were  dispossessed  of  their  just  claims, 
hung  in  the  dark  background  over  the  head  of  that  royal  house  which  has 
now  become  extinct.  Of  this  crime  its  last  successors  have  now  paid  ths 
penalty."  ("  Shakespeare's  Dramatic  Art,"  &c.,  translated  from  the  German 
of  Dr.  HERMANN  ULRICI.  London,  1846,  page  220.)  I  do  not  find  anything 
in  the  text  of  "Hamlet"  to  justify  this  statement.  The  challenge  seems 
to  have  come  from  Fortinbras  (see  Act  L,  Scene  1,  lines  80—84,  quoted 
above),  and  the  elder  Hamlet  seems  to  have  'gaged '  a  perfectly  fair  equiva- 
lent to  those  lands  that  he  so  won.  The  only  words  which  seem  to  imply 
that  Fortinbras  or  his  ancestors  had  originally  been  the  lords  of  Hamlet's 
territory  are  those  in  lines  91—93  in  the  same  scene  — 

Which  had  return'd 

To  the  inheritance  of  Fortinbraa 

Had  he  been  vanquisher. 

But  this  is  hardly  enough  to  warrant  Ulrici  in  such  a  positive  charge  against 
Hamlet's  family. 


APPENDIX.  181 


APPENDIX   P. 

HAMLET'S  AGE. 

THE  question  of  Hamlet's  age  is  one  which  has  often  puzzled  the 
critics  no  less  than  the  students  of  Shakespeare.  A  writer  in  the 
Examiner*  signing  himself  "  W.  Minto,"  in  a  review  of  Professor 
Uowdeii's  "Essays  on  Shakespeare,"  drew  attention  to  the  injury 
done  to  the  significance  of  the  play  by  the  prevailing  belief  that 
Hamlet  was  thirty  years  old.  I  do  not  agree  with  him  that  it  is 
necessary  to  believe  Hamlet  to  have  been  a  youth  of  seventeen,  but 
I  certainly  think  that  Shakespeare  intended  him  to  be  nearer  twenty 
than  thirty.  Not  only  are  the  general  features  of  his  character 
those  of  youth,  but  there  are  so  many  allusions  to  the  fact  that  he 
was  very  young,  scattered  throughout  the  play,  that  we  cannot 
bring  ourselves  to  believe  that  he  was  really  thirty  years  old. 

I  here  subjoin  some  of  these  passages      In  Act  I.,  Scene  1,  lines 
169-170,  Horatio  says- 
Let  us  impart  what  we  have  seen  to-night 
Unto  young  Harnlet. 

This  might  be  an  expression  which  Horatio  would  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  use  in  order  to  distinguish  Hamlet  from  his  father  ;  but 
the  language  of  Laertes  and  Polonius  is  much  stronger : 

LAER.  For  Hamlet,  and  the  trifling  of  his  favour, 
Hold  it  a  fashion  and  a  toy  in  blood, 
A  violet  in  the  youth  of  primy  nature. 

— Act  I.,  Scene  2,  lines  5 — 8. 

This  language,  and  much  else  that  Laertes  says,  seems  inapplicable 
to  a  man  of  thirty. 

POL.  For  Lord  Hamlet 

Believe  so  much  of  him  that  he  is  young. 

—Act  I.,  Scene  2,  lines  123-124. 

The  Ghost  says— 

I  could  a  tale  unfold  whose  lightest  word 

AVould  harrow  up  thy  soul,  freeze  thy  young  blood. 

— Act  I.,  Scene  5,  lines  15-16. 

And  again  (line  38) — 

Bat  know,  thou  noble  youth. 

The  tone  in  which  the  Queen  speaks  to  her  son  in  the  closet  scene 
is  not  such  as  a  mother  could  well  employ  to  a  man  of  thirty  : 

Hamlet,  thou  hast  thy  father  much  offended. 

—Act  I Q.,  Scene  4,  line  9. 

And— 

Come,  come,  you  answer  with  an  idle  tongue. — (Line  11.) 

*  See  Examiner,  March  6th,  1875. 


182  A  STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

These  are  the  principal  references  to  Hamlet's  youth  which  seem, 
especially  those  littered  by  Laertes  and  Polonius,  to  be  irreconcil- 
able with  the  supposition  that  lie  was  thirty  years  old. 

With  regard  to  the  evidence  afforded  by  this  scene  with  the 
Gravedigger,  I  do  not  think  it  decisive  as  to  the  fact  that  Hamlet 
was  thirty  years  old.  The  words — 

I  have  been  sexton  here,  man  and  boy,  for  thirty  years 

may  mean  that  he  had  begun  to  serve  his  apprenticeship  thirty 
years  ago  ;  but  he  may  not  have  come  to  the  trade  of  gravemaker 
till  some  years  later  :  so  that  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  the 
clay  when  King  Hamlet  overcame  Fortinbras  was  thirty  years  ago. 

The  most  difficult  point  to  get  over  in  this  scene  is  the  statement 
that  Yorick's  skull  had  lain  in  the  grave  twenty-three  years.  In 
the  first  quarto  (1603)  the  time  is  a  dozen  years,  and  there  is  no 
mention  made  of  the  thirty  years.  The  lines  are — 

Looke  you,  here's  a  scull  hath  bin  here  these  dozen  yeare, 
Let  me  see,  I  ever  since  our  last  King  Hamlet 
Slew  Fortenbrasse  in  combat,  yong  Hamlets  father, 

— Allen's  Reprint,  p.  86. 

It  would  appear  that  Shakespeare  added  these  details,  which  tend 
to  prove  Hamlet  to  have  been  thirty  years  old,  for  much  the 
same  reason  as  he  inserted  the  line—  • 

He's  fat  and  scant  of  breath — 

namely,  in  order  to  render  Hamlet's  age  and  personal  appearance 
more  in  accordance  with  those  of  the  great  actor,  Burbage,  who  per- 
sonated him.  If  all  that  is  said  of  Burbage  by  some  of  his  con- 
temporaries is  true,  he  was  worth  such  a  slight  sacrifice  on  the  port 
of  the  poet. 

The  most  material  objection  against  Hamlet  being  more  than 
twenty  to  twenty-three  years  of  age  is  that,  if  he  were  older,  his 
mother  could  scarcely  have  been  the  object  of  a  passion  such  as 
that  of  Claudius.  Gertrude  could  hardly  have  been  more  than 
forty  years  old ;  so  that  if  Hamlet  was  thirty,  she  must  have  been 
married  at  a  very  tender  age. 

I  do  not  think  this  question  of  so  much  importance  on  the  stage 
as  it  is  in  the  study.  The.  actor  should  try  and  look  as  young  as 
he  can,  without  having  recourse  to  much  paint.  But  it  would  be  a 
sad  mistake  to  exclude  a  great  artist  from  the  role  of  Hamlet 
because  he  could  not  look  twenty  years  old.  Still  it  is  quite  as 
well  to  remember  that  Hamlet  was  in  the  prime  of  his  youth,  for 
much  of  his  eccentricity  may  bo  easier  accounted  for  if  this  fact  is 
borne  in  mind. 


ADDITIONAL      NOTES. 


NOTE  1. 


I  HAVE  said  the  best  criticism  "  on  the  whole;"  T  do  not  moan  to 
say  that  there  are  not  many  criticisms  on  individu  d  plays,  which  are 
better  than  those  of  Schlegel.  The  work  of  P:  :os  »r  Gervinus,  in 
two  vols.,  which  has  been  translated  into  Eugli^  ':.,  is  on*,  of  the  most 
valuable  additions  to  the  Shakes  'iiiiuu  Hv-'atu  'j  of  modern  times  ; 
it  was  originally  published  in  18  JO,  and  ti  Knglish  translation  in 
1863  ;  I  have  alluded  more  fully  to  il-.is  Kilt  -v's  essay  on  "  ILimlct  " 
in  another  part  of  this  v.'ork.  Ulrie;  nl."  merits  Hie  ^vmncst 
.praise,  liom  every  lover  of  Shakespeare,  for  bis  voliiiu-.'  of  <i  •-•liglitfnl 
and  learn  I  essays  on  our  great  poet's  dramatic  genius.  In  assign- 
ing to  Schlegel  the  fk.st  place  among  the  critics  of  Shakespeare,  I 
do  not  wish  to  be  guilty  of  any  iDJust->e  to  the  numer  -us  English 
and  German  writers  who  have  made  our  author  ihe  subject  of  so 
many  valuabl  )  essays  :  I  do  not  pretend  to  express  anything  more 
than  my  opinion,  which  is  that,  for  practical  purposes,  Schlegel's 
estimate  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  is  on  the  whole,  the  best  guide  to 
any  would-be  student  of  our  greatest  dramatist. 


NOTE  IA. 

I  AM  afraid  that  few  critics  will  agree  with  me  on  this  point ; 
indeed,  the  fact  that  Hamlet  says  (line  151)  — 

Come  on  :  you  hear  this  fellow  in  the  cellarage  : 

Would  seem  to  settle  the  question.  Still  more  decisive  would  bo 
line  161,  it'  we  admit  the  reading  of  the  Quarto  1604  (which  is 
followed  by  the  other  quartos) — 

GHOST  (beneath).   Swear  by  his  sword. 


184  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

True  the  Quarto  1603  and  the  Folios  all  read  simply--* 
GHOST  (beneath).  Swear. 

But  if  Shakespeare  deliberately  added  the  words  "  by  his  sword  " 
when  he  revised  the  piece  it  would  certainly  seem  that  he  meant 
Horatio  and  Marcellus  to  hear  the  subterranean  voice. 

The  reason  why  I  have  always  believed  that  Horatio  and  Mar- 
cellus were  not  supposed  to  hear  the  Ghost  is,  that  Shakespeare 
had  so  carefully  prevented  the  Ghost  from  uttering  a  single  word 
in  their  hearing  before,  and  that  the  Queen  certainly  cannot  hear 
its  voice  in  the  closet-scene.  But  in  the  latter  case  she  cannot  see 
the  Ghost  either ;  and,  as  to  the  former  point,  the  silence  of  the 
apparition  might  arise  from,  the  fact  that  it  had  not  yet  commu- 
nicated to  Hamlet  its  solemn  charge.  It  is  remarkable  that  Ham- 
let, in  proposing  the  oath  to  Horatio  and  Marcellus,  twice  insists 
on  their  not  revealing  what  they  had  seen — first  (line  144) — • 

Never  make  known  what  you  have  seen  to-night. 

The  Ghost  had  not  yet  spoken  from  beneath ;  but  after  he  has  done 
so,  Hamlet  still  says  (line  153) — 

Never  to  speak  of  this  that  you  have  seen, 
Swear  by  my  sword. 

It  is  not  till  the  next  time  that  he  says  (line  159) — 

Never  to  speak  of  this  that  you  have  heard, 
Swear  by  my  sword. 

But  I  do  not  think  that  either  this  line  or  even  the  words  which  I 
have  quoted  above — 

You  hear  this  fellow  in  the  cellarage — 

exclude  the  possibility  of  my  supposition  ;  they  are  both  consistent 
with  the  fact  that  Hamlet  is  afraid  they  may  have  heard  the  Ghoat, 
but  is  not  sure  ;  certain  it  is  that  he  is  very  anxious  they  should 
not  hear  it,  either  from  fear  that  it  might  reveal  the  secret  of  his 
father's  death,  or  that  the  sound  might  so  unnerve  the  others  that 
they  would  be  unable  to  take  the  proposed  oath.  Hamlet,  as  we 
know,*  did  afterwards  confide  what  the  Ghost  had  told  him  to 
Horatio  :  it  is  Marcellus  whom  he  distrusts. 

Hamlet  cannot  mean  by  "  what  you  have  heard  "  only  the  sub- 
terranean utterances  of  the  Ghost — he  must  have  referred  to  the 
half-revelation  which  he  had  made  immediately  on  the  re-entrance 
of  his  friends  after  his  interview  with  the  Ghost,  the  exact  extent 
of  which,  in  his  agitated  state  of  mind,  he  probably  did  not  know, 
but  which  he  feared  might  be  sufficient  to  guide  them  to  some  con- 
clusion near  the  truth,  and  to  furnish  them  with  materials  for 

*  See  Act  III.,  Scene  2,  lines  71,  72— 

One  scene  of  it  comes  near  the  circumstance 
Which  I  have  told  thce  of  my  father's  death* 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  185 

gossip  with  the  courtiers ;  if  such  gossip  reached  the  ears  of 
Claudius  it  would  serve  to  put  him  on  his  guard,  the  very  thing 
which  Hamlet  was  so  anxious  to  avoid.  It  may  be  remarked  here 
that  both  seem  to  have  kept  their  oath  most  religiously,  for  wo 
do  not  find  that  any  other  person  about  the  Court  had  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  the  Ghost's  appearance. 

It  seems  to  me  that  this  scene  would  gain  in  solemnity  if  the 
voice  of  the  Ghost  were  supposed  to  be  heard  by  Hamlet  alone. 
The  fact  of  his  hurrying  Horatio  and  Marcellus  from  one  part  of 
the  scene  to  another,  in  obedience  to  a  voice  which  they  could  not 
hear,  a  voice  to  whose  utterances  he  made  mysterious  references 
and  gave  mysterious  answers,  would  quite  account  for  the  awe- 
struck words  of  Horatio — 

0  day  and  night,  but  this  is  wondrous  strange  ! 


NOTE  ± 

IN  Act  III.,  Scene  2,  there  is  a  line  spoken  by  Ophelia  which 
may  help  us  to  decide  the  exact  length  of  the  interval  which 
elapsed.  In  answer  to  Hamlet's  speech  — 

.  .  .  .  What  should  a  man  do  but  be  merry  ?  for,  look  you,  how 
cheerfully  my  mother  looks,  and  my  father  died  within's  two  hours  — 

Ophelia  says, 
Kay,  'tis  twice  two  months,  my  lord. 


,  we  know  from  Hamlet's  first  soliloquy,  in  Act  L,  that  at 
that  period  his  father  had  not  been  dead  two  months,  but  only  a 
little  more  than  one.  If  we  may  take  Ophelia's  expression  as  being 
accurate,  a  period  of  at  least  two  months  and  a-half  must  have 
elapsed  ;  but  Hamlet  in  his  reply, 

.     .     .     .     0  heavens  !  die  two  months  ago,  and  not  forgotten  yet  ? 

seems  to  ignore  the  important  word  "  twice,"  though  the  word 
twice  is  found  in  every  early  edition  of  the  play,  including  the 
Quarto  1603.  But,  for  his  purpose,  Hamlet  did  not  want  to  be 
very  accurate  as  to  the  time  ;  therefore  we  may  take  it,  as  far 
as  Shakespeare  has  cared  to  inform  us,  that  from  two  to  three 
months  intervened  at  this  point  of  the  story. 


186  A  STUDY  0£  ilAMLET. 


NOTE  3. 

I  am  most  dreadfully  attended. 

I  CANNOT  find  any  commentary  on  this  passage,  which  seems  to 
me  to  "be  a  very  important  one.  It  is  the  only  complaint  which 
Hamlet  utters  as  to  the  neglect  with  which  he  was  treated  at  court. 
We  never  find  him  attended  by  anybody  but  his  chosen  confidant 
Horatio,  or  by  those  two  courtiers  whose  presence  was,  from  time 
to  time,  forced  upon  him  by  the  King,  and  could  not  be,  after  this 
scene,  anything  but  very  unwelcome  to  him.  As  heir-apparent  to 
the  throne,  Hamlet  might  expect  to  have  some  more  ceremonious 
attendance  ;  but  though  he  here  complains  of  the  little  state  with 
which  he  was  surrounded,  his  comparative  solitude  in  the  Court 
was,  we  cannot  doubt,  of  his  own  choosing.  After  the  appearance 
of  the  Ghost  he  seems  to  have  withdrawn  himself  more  and  more 
from  any  society  but  that  of  Horatio  ;  even  Marcellus  is  never 
found  again  in  his  company  ;  he  holds  little  or  no  conversation 
with  anybody  but  Horatio. 

It  would  not  be  uninteresting  to  follow  out  the  parallel  between 
Hamlet  and  Prince  Henry  which  Gervinus  commences ;  both  princes 
seem  to  have,  more  or  less  voluntarily,  abandoned  that  state  which 
naturally  belonged  to  them,  but  from  very  different  reasons.  Hamlet 
assumes  the  retirement,  and  want  of  ceremony,  which  belong  to  a 
private  individual,  because  only  two  persons  in  the  Court  can  rise,  in 
any  way,  to  his  moral  level ;  Prince  Henry  assumes  the  licence  of 
a  private  individual  because  none  in  his  father's  court  can  be  found 
to  sink  to  his  moral  level ;  the  one  throws  off  the  prince  to  assume 
the  rSIe  of  a  low  brawler  and  reveller,  the  other  surrenders  the 
privileges  of  his  position  from  affection  for  his  father's  memory,  and 
from  all-absorbing  sorrow  for  his  death. 

It  is  quite  consistent  with  Hamlet's  character,  and  with  human 
nature  generally,  that  he  should,  at  one  and  the  same  time, 
studiously  avoid  any  intercourse  with  the  natural  associates  of  a 
man  in  his  position,  and  yet  complain  of  a  lack  of  that  proper 
attendance,  that  sort  of  court  within  a  court,  which  generally 
surrounds  the  heir-apparent  to  the  throne.  Nor  was  this  complaint 
so  unreasonable  as  it  may  seem  ;  putting  aside  the  fact  that  by 
right  the  throne  was  his,  it  is  evident  that  Claudius's  professions  of 
regard  for  Hamlet  as  his  son  and  natural  successor  were  nothing 
but  professions  ;  and  that  the  courtiers  who  surrounded  him  were 
quite  capable  of  appreciating  the  worth  of  these  professions,  and  of 
giving  practical  expression  to  the  dislike  and  disrespect~which  the 
King  himself  dared  not  openly  show  towards  Hamlet. 

It  may  be  observed  that  just  before  this  passage  Hamlet  says 
that  he  has  bad  dreams.  The  many  instances  of  playing  upon  words, 
found  in  the  course  of  this  play,  mny  warrant  the  suspicion  that 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES.  187 

the  sentence  "  I  am  most  dreadfully  attended  "  contains  a  double 
meaning  ;  and  that  Hamlet  may  refer  to  the  visitation  of  the 
Ghost,  and  to  those  haunting  thoughts  and  images  created  by  its 
appearance,  which  attended  him  both  sleeping  and  waking. 


NOTE  4. 

I  am  but  mad  north-north-west  :  when  the  wind  is  southerly  I  know  a 
hawk  from  a  handsaw. 

No  adequate  explanation  of  this  passage  appears  to  me  to  be 
offered  by  any  of  the  commentators  ;  the  proverb  "  he  doesn't  know 
a  hawk  from  a  hernshaw,"  that  is,  from  a  heron,  is  said  to  have 
been  a  common  one,  and  is  found  in  Eay's  Proverbs,  p.  196,  and  in 
other  collections  ;  but  the  only  passage  quoted  is  from  Langston's 
"  Lusus  Poeticus,"  1675  (see  Pennant's  "British  Zoology,"  "  The 
Heron,"  quoted  in  Richardson's  Dictionary  sub  voce  Heron).  The  cor- 
ruption of  "  hernsliaw  "  into  "  handsaw  "  may  have  originated  in 
a  vulgar  mistake,  or  in  a  stupid  attempt  to  be  funny  on  the  part  of 
some  person.* 

Of  the  first  part  of  this,  in  all  the  old  commentators,  I  can  find 
no  explanation ,f  and  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  words 
I  am  but  mad  north-north-west 

must  have  had  some  inner  meaning,  or  conveyed  a  reference  to 
some  well-known  expression.  The  only  attempt  to  throw  any 
light  on  this  obscure  passage  is  to  be  found  in  the  Notes  to  the 
"Clarendon"  Hamlet  (Oxford,  1873);  and  for  this  explanation 
the  editors  acknowledge  their  indebtedness  to  Mr.  J.  C.  Heath, 
formerly  Fellow  of  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge.  I  take  leave  to  insert 
it  here  :  — 

"The  expression  obviously  refers  to  the  sport  of  hawking.  Most  birds, 
especially  one  of  heavy  flight,  like  the  heron,  when  roused  by  the  falconer 
or  his  dog,  would  fly  down  or  with  the  wind,  in  order  to  escape.  When 
the  wind  is  from  the  north  the  heron  flies  towards  the  south,  and  the  spec- 

*  This  corruption,  Nares  says,  had  taken  place  before  the  time  of 
Shakespeare.  "  Herneshaw  "  is  explained  by  Cotgrave  as  a  "  shaw  of 
wood  where  hernes  breed,"  "  Haironniere ;  "  so  that  Dr.  Johnson  had 
better  authority  for  giving  this  interpretation  than  Nares  supposed.  Shaw 
is  an  old  Saxon  word  for  "  shady  place." 

t  The  quotation  given  by  Steevens  does  not  help  us  much  : — 
"  But  I  perceive  now,  either  the  winde  is  at  the  south, 
Or  else  your  tongue  cleaveth  to  the  roofe  of  your  mouth." 

—"Damon  and  Pythias,"  1582. 
He  might  just  aa  well  have  quoted  the  proverb— 
1  When  the  wind  is  in  the  south, 
It  blows  the  bait  into  the  fishes'  mouth." 


188  A  STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

tator  may  be  dazzled  by  the  sun,  and  be  unable  to  distinguish  the  hawk 
from  the  heron.  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  wind  is  southerly,  the  heron 
flies  towards  the  north,  and  it  and  the  pursuing  hawk  are  clearly  seen  by 
the  sportsman,  who  then  has  his  back  to  the  sun,  and  without  difficulty 
knows  the  hawk  from  the  hernsew.  A  curious  reader  may  further  observe 
that  a  wind  from  the  precise  point  north-north-west  would  be  in  the  eye  of 
the  sun  at  half-past  tan  in  the  forenoon,  a  likely  time  for  hawking,  whereas 
'southerly'  includes  a  wider  range  of  wind  for  a  good  view." 

This  explanation  is  very  ingenious  ;  but  I  should  like  to  have 
seen  it  supported  by  some  passages  from  any  of  the  books  on  Fal- 
conry to  which  Shakespeare  might  have  had  access.  I  have  always 
thought  that  Hamlet  here  meant  to  intimate  to  Rosencrautz  and 
C uildenstern  that  he  was  only  mad  in  one  direction  (i.e.,  before  the 
King  and  Court),  and  that  possibly  by  some  gesture  he  may  have 
indicated  his  meaning. 

The  hawk  and  heron  are  certainly  as  unlike  as  any  two  birds  can 
be  ;  the  only  point  of  resemblance  between  them  being  that  they 
are  both  mischievous,  for  the  heron  is  quite  as  destructive  to  fish 
as  the  hawk  is  to  game.  In  the  proverb  the  sense  undoubtedly  is, 
"  he  does  nbt  know  a  hawk  from  its  prey  ;"  and  Hamlet's  meaning 
may  be  thus  expressed — "  I  am  not  so  mad  but  I  know  a  knave 
from  a  fool,  even  if  that  fool  be  a  mischievous  one." 


NOTE  5. 

MALONE  has  the  following  note  (vol.  vii.,  page  405,  note  3, 
ed.  1821)  on  the  words  "  I  must  to  England": 

"  Shakespeare  does  not  inform  us  how  Hamlet  came  to  know  that  he 
was  to  be  sent  to  England.  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  were  made 
acquainted  with  the  King's  intentions  for  the  first  time  in  the  very  last 
scene  ;  and  they  do  not  appear  to  have  had  any  communication  with  the 
Prince  since  that  time.  Add  to  this,  that  in  a  subsequent  scene,  when  the 
King,  after  the  death  of  Polonius,  informs  Hamlet  he  was  to  go  to  England, 
he  expresses  great  surprise,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  anything  of  it  before. 
This  last,  however,  may,  perhaps,  be  accounted  for,  as  contributing  to  his 
design  of  passing  for  a  madman." 

The  first  mention  of  the  scheme  of  sending  Hamlet  to  England 
occurs  in  Act  III.,  Scene  1,  lines  1G8 — 175  : 

I  have  in  quick  determination 

Thus  set  it  down  :— -he  shall  with  speed  to  England, 

For  the  demand  of  our  neglected  tribute  : 

Haply  the  seas  and  countries  different 

With  variable  objects  shall  expel 

This  something-settled  matter  in  his  heart, 

Whereon  his  brains  still  beating  puts  him  thus 

From  fashion  of  himself. 

The  Queen  apparently  was  not  present,  only  Polonius  (see  ante, 
page  41) :  the  next  allusion  to  it  is  in  the  third  scene  of  the  same 


ADDITIONAL   NOTES,  189 

act,  when  the  King  broaches  the  plan  to  Kosencrantz  and  Guil den- 
stern.  The  action  would  seem  to  be  continuous,  at  any  rate  to  the 
end  of  Scene  1,  if  not  to  the  end  of  the  act.  We  must  mark  the 
Queen's  answer :  Hamlet's  words  are  : 

I  must  to  England  ;  you  know  that  ? 

To  which  his  mother  replies — 

Alack, 
I  had  forgot ;  'tis  so  concluded  on — 

showing  that  she  had  heard  of  the  proposed  embassy  to  England. 
Unless  we  suppose  that  an  interval  of  time*  is  intended  to  elapse 
between  the  first  and  second  scenes  of  this  act,  she  must  have  been 
informed  of  his  intention  by  Claudius,  when  they  retired  so 
abruptly  in  the  middle  of  the  play  represented  before  the  Court. 
Hamlet  could  only  have  heard  of  the  project  in  the  short  interval 
which  elapsed  between  his  leaving  the  King  kneeling  in  his  closet 
(Scene  3)  and  his  interview  with  his  mother  (Scene  4).  It  is  quite 
possible  that  Shakespeare  meant  us  to  suppose  that,  while  Hamlet 
passed  through  the  corridors  of  the  palace,  some  of  the  courtiers, 
if  not  liosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  themselves,  had  told  him  of 
the  King's  intention.  I  cannot  conceive  that  it  was  a  mere  over- 
sight on  Shakespeare's  part ;  for  we  must  not  forget  that  he  revised 
the  whole  play,  and  this  very  scene  in  particular.  Surely  Malone 
is  not  justified  in  saying,  as  far  as  the  text  is  concerned,  that 
Hamlet  expresses  any  surprise  when  (Act  IV.t  Scene  3,  lines  44,  45) 
the  King  tells  him  that  everything  is  ready  for  his  journey  to 
England;  he  merely  repeats  the  words,  "For  England;"  and 
twice  afterwards,  "  Come,  for  England  "  (line  47  and  line  52) ;  this 
very  repetition  might  have  warned  the  King  that  Hamlet  was  not 
without  suspicion  of  his  design  ;  but  he  seems  to  have  had  no 
apprehension  on  this  point.  It  is  very  likely  that,  by  repeating 
these  words,  Hamlet  desired  to  remind  his  mother  of  what  he  had 
said  to  her  ;  and  to  assure  her  that  she  need  have  no  fear  of  his 
incurring  any  danger  from  over-trusting  the  companions  which  the 
King  had  chosen  for  him. 

I  may  notice  here  Ulrici's  plausible  conjecture  that  Hamlet 
visited  England  in  order  to  obtain  the  support  of  that  power  in  a 
quarrel  with  his  country  : 

"  He  cheerfully  obeys  the  command  to  visit  England,  evidently  with  the 
view  and  in  the  hopes  of  there  obtaining  the  means  and  opportunity  (per- 
haps the  support  of  England,  and  a  supply  of  money  and  men,  for  an  open 
quarrel  with  his  uncle)  to  set  about  the  work  in  a  manner  worthy  both  of 
himself  and  its  own  importance.  This  hope  he  is  evidently  alluding  to 
when  he  says,  "Tis  the  sport  to  have  the  enginer,'  &c.  "—(&?«  "Shake- 
speare'a  Dramatic  Art,"  by  H.  Ulrici,  p.  220.) 

I  do  not  think  this  conjecture  as  justifiable  as  it  is  ingenious. 


See  "  Scheme  of  Time,  &c.,"  page  201, 


190  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 


NOTE  5A. 

IN  Caldecott's  Edition  (1819),  p.  98,  the  following  passages  are 
given  : — 

"When  princes  (as  the  toy  takes  them  in  the  head)  have  used  courtiers 
as  sponges  to  drinke  what  juice  they  can  from  the  poore  people,  they  take 
pleasure  afterwards  to  wringe  them  out  into  their  owne  cisternes." — R.  C.'s 
"Henr.  Steph.  Apology  for  Herodotus,"  Fo.  1608,  p.  81. 

"Vespasian,  when  reproached  for  bestowing  high  office  upon  persons 
most  rapacious,  answered,  '  that  he  served  his  turne  with  such  officers  as 
with  spunyes,  which,  when  they  had  drunke  their  fill,  were  then  fittest  to 
be  pressed.' " — Barnabe  Rich's  "Faultes,  faults  and  nothing  else  but  faults," 
4to,  1606,  p.  44b.  (See  Suetonius,  Vespas.,  c.  16.) 

This  last  passage  bears  such  a  remarkable  similarity  to  the  lines 
in  the  play,  that  it  is  almost  certain  Shakespeare,  or  the  author  of 
the  older  play  of  "  Hamlet,"  must  have  borrowed  the  idea  from  the 
same  source  to  which  Barnabe  Eich  was  indebted — viz.,  Suetonius. 

This  speech  about  the  sponge,  &c.,  was  restored  by  Mr.  Irving ; 
the  first  time,  I  believe,  it  has  been  given  on  the  stage  :  he  spoke 
it  in  Act  IV.,  Scene  2,  where,  as  I  have  said  in  the  text,  it  is 
placed  in  the  Quarto  1603. 


NOTE  6. 

IT  is  a  curious  fact  that  neither  in  this  passage  nor  in  Scene  2, 
Act  V.,  in  which  Hamlet  relates  to  Horatio  the  counterplot  by 
which  he  had  defeated  the  King's  treachery,  does  Shakespeare  give 
any  clue  to  the  precise  nature  of  the  government  which  he  intended 
to  represent  as  existing  in  England  at  the  time  of  this  play;  but 
from  the  expression  here  used  by  the  King,  it  would  seem  to  have 
been  a  monarchy,  paying  tribute  to  Denmark.  (See  also  Hamlet's 
words,  Scene  2,  Act  V.,  line  39 — 

As  England  was  his  faithful  tributary.) 

It  may  be  remarked  that  in  the  speech  of  the  King  we  have  one 
of  the  very  few  allusions  which  would  tend  to  fix  the  historical 
period  of  the  play  :— 

And,  England,  if  my  love  thou  hold'st  at  aught — 
As  my  great  power  thereof  may  give  thee  sense, 
Since  yet  thy  cicatrice  looks  raw  and  red 
After  the  Danish  sword,  and  thy  free  awe 
Pays  homage  to  us— 


ADDITIONAL   NOTES.  191 

The  first  invasion  of  the  Danes  was  in  783,  the  last  in  1074;  the  first 
historical  King  of  Denmark  was  Sigurd  Snogoje,  whose  reign  was 
from.  794  to  803  ;  his  immediate  predecessor  was  Kagnor  Lodbrog, 
who  was  said  to  have  been  killed  in  an  attempt  to  invade  England 
in  794.  The  period  of  Hamlet's  existence  in  Saxo  Grammaticus  is 
placed  about  the  second  century  before  .Christ;  but  the  chronology  of 
Saxo  is  utterly  worthless.  As  after  794  we  have  the  names  of  all 
the  kings  of  Denmark  preserved,  Hamlet  must  have  existed,  if  ho 
ever  really  did  exist,  before  then ;  aiul  as  England  could  not  have 
paid  tribute  to  Denmark  before  783,  the  number  of  years,  arguing 
from  the  allusion  in  the  text,  within  which  Hamlet  could  have 
existed,  is  very  limited.  The  fact  is,  that  it  is  utterly  impossible 
to  ascertain  the  exact  period  of  the  events  in  this  play,  and  there- 
fore all  the  attempts  that  have  been  made  from  time  to  time  to 
secure  historical  accuracy  in  the  costumes  are  mere  waste  of  inge- 
nuity ;  any  time  during  the  ninth  or  tenth  centuries  might  be 
taken,  according  to  fancy ;  but  the  spirit  of  the  principal  character, 
and  many  trifling  allusions  that  occur  in  the  play,  would  even  then 
strike  us  as  anachronisms. 


NOTE  7. 

Up  from  my  cabin, 

My  sea-gown  scarf'd  about  me, 

THIS  passage  seems  to  me  worthy  of  notice,  but  I  cannot  find 
any  commentary  on  it :  the  details  given  in  it  are  very  character- 
istic ;  the  expression  "  Up  from  my  cabin  "  is  remarkable.  We 
should  expect  that  Hamlet's  cabin  would  have  been  either  in 
the  poop,  or  stern,  of  the  vessel ;  or  on  the  first  deck — at  any 
rate,  below  deck.  Unless  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  slept  on 
the  deck,  Hamlet  would  not  go  up  from  the  cabin  to  search  for 
their  papers  ;  but  it  may  be  that  the  vessel,  being  a  small  one,  the 
only  cabin  was  given  up  to  him ;  or  it  may  be  simply  an  oversight 
on  Shakespeare's  part.  The  word  "  sea-gown  "  occurs  only  in  this 
passage  in  Shakespeare,  and  is  explained  by  Cotgrave  as  a  "  short- 
sleeved  mariner's  gown  ''  (French,  u Esdavine"  which  is  described 
as  a  "  coarse,  high-collared,  and  short-sleeved  gowne,  reaching 
downe  to  the  mid-leg,  and  used  most  by  seamen,  and  saylers  ")  ; 
in  fact,  it  was  a  long-hooded  cloak,  open  in  front,  very  much  like 
those  one  sees  worn  by  some  men  now-a-days  when  travelling. 
Hamlet  in  his  haste  had  thrown  it  round  him  in  the  fashion  of 
a  scarf  or  plaid.  The  descriptive  power  in  this  speech  and  the 
preceding  ones  is  singularly  vivid  ;  while  the  language  of  Hamlet  is 
more  graphic  and  less  sententious  than  usual.  The  active,  and  not 
the  reflective,  part  of  his  nature  is  for  the  moment  supreme. 


192  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 


NOTE  8. 

Or  I  could  make  a  prologue  to  my  brains, 
They  had  begun  the  play, — 

THIS  expression  is  rather  obscure.     The  only  note  on  the  passage 
which  I  can  find  is  in  Caldecott's  edition  (1819),  page  149,  Note  D: 

"  Ere  I  could  well  conceive  what  they  were  about,  what  could  be  their 
object  in  this  mission  ;  before  I  had  time  to  give  my  first  thoughts  to  their 
process,  they  were  carrying  their  projects  into  act." 
The  simplest  interpretation  seems  to  be,  "Before  I  could 
make  a  prologue  in  my  brains,"  or  "  to  the  satisfaction  of  my 
brains,  they  had  begun  the  play  ;"  i.e.,  "  Before  I  could  settle  in 
my  mind  the  preliminaries  of  any  counterplot,  they  had  begun  the 
plot  itself." 


NOTE   9. 

I  HAVE  a  copy  of  the  quarto  of  1G95,  which  gives  a  list  of  "  the 
persons  represented  "  and  the  names  of  the  actors  and  actresses  who 
represented  them ;  in  this  cast  Betterton  was  the  Hamlet  and  Mrs. 
Betterton  the  Ophelia.  It  was  in  that  very  year  that  this  great 
actor,  who  was  now  in  his  60th  year,  opened  the  theatre  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  ;  he  had  acted  Hamlet  at  different  periods 
during  the  last  thirty-two  years,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  ex- 
cisions which  he  made  in  the  play  were  sanctioned  by  tradition 
derived  from  Burbage,  who  was  the  original  representative  of  the 
part.  The  following  notice  to  the  reader  is  affixed  to  this  edition 
of  the  play  (1695):— 

' '  This  Play  being  too  long  to  be  conveniently  Acted,  such  places  as  might 
be  least  prejudicial  to  the  Plot  or  Sense,  are  lefb  out  upon  the  Stage  :  But 
that  we  may  no  way  wrong  the  incomparable  Author,  are  here  inserted 
according  to  the  Original  Copy,  with  this  mark  "." 

Not  one  of  Betterton' s  successors  has  ventured  to  restore  the  scene ; 
but  I  have  heard  that,  recently,  Mr.  Bandmaim,  a  German  actor 
who  has  mastered  the  English  language  to  a  certain  extent,  has 
done  so  ;  with  what  success  I  do  not  know.  It  would  be  very 
interesting  if  some  Shakespearian  scholar,  with  special  capabilities 
for  the  task,  like  Mr.  Halliwell  or  Mr.  Furnivall,  would  collate  the 
various  acting  editions  of  "Hamlet"  adopted  by  the  great  actors  who 
have  represented  this  part,  from  Betteiton  down  to  Irving. 


AUmiiOXAL   NOTES. 


NOTE  10. 

THAT  this  interval  must  be  a  considerable  one  will  be  easily  seen 
on  careful  examination  of  tho  remaining  scenes  of  the  play.  It 
might  be  thought  that  the  break  occurs  at  the  end  of  the  next 
scene  (Scene  5) ;  but  that  is  impossible,  for  the  conversation 
between  the  King  and  Laertes,  which  takes  place  in.  Scene  7,  is 
evidently  part  of  that  which  ends  Scene  5  ;  the  interval  occupied 
by  Scene  6  being  only  sufficient  for  the  King  to  explain  to  Laertes 
the  circumstances  of  Polonius'  death,  which,  if  done  on  the  stage, 
would  have  been  a  needless  repetition.  We  find  from  Scene  6  that 
Hamlet  has  returned,  the  ship  in  which  he  sailed  having  been 
overtaken  by  pirates,  who  made  him  their  prisoner,  on  the  second 
day  of  his  voyage ;  how  lung  he  was  detained  by  them  does  not 
appear,  but  it  must  have  been  for  some  time,  since  between  Acts 
IV.  and  V.  there  cannot  elapse  much  more  than  two  days,  and  at 
the  end  of  Act  V.  we  find  that  the  ambassadors  have  arrived  from 
England  announcing  the  deaths  of  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern, 
and  that  Fortinbras  has  returned  from  his  expedition  against 
Poland  ;  so  that  it  is  evident  that,  at  this  point  (Act  IV.,  Scene  4) 
the  break  implied  by  the  fall  of  the  act-drop  ought  to  occur. 
Another  great  advantage  would  be  gained  by  this  arrangement,  for, 
as  the  play  is  at  present  represented,  the  incident  of  Ophelia's  mad- 
ness appears  to  be  very  abruptly  introduced  ;  she  has  scarcely  had 
time  to  hear  of  her  father's  death ;  and  the  impression  produced 
upon  the  spectator  is  that  her  madness  was  a  preconcerted  circum- 
stance, and  did  not  arise  naturally  from  the  events  as  Shakespeare 
intended  it  to  do.  If  Ophelia's  mad  scene  were  to  commence  a 
new  act,  it  would  be  much  more  effective  ;  and  the  spectators 
might  then  conceive,  what  was  probably  the  intention  of  the  author, 
that  the  abrupt  departure  of  Hamlet  for  England  without  attempting 
any  explanation  to  her,  or  expressing  sorrow  for  the  fatal  mistake 
by  which  he  had  killed  her  father,  co-operated  with  that  father's 
violent  and  sudden  death  to  overturn  a  mind  on  which  secret 
sorrow,  and  bitter  disappointment,  had  long  been  preying. 

At  the  end  of  the  "  Additional  Notes"  will  be  found  an  arrangement 
of  all  the  scenes  in  this  play,  showing  the  amount  of  time  occupied 
by  the  action  and  the  length  of  the  various  intervals  supposed  to 
elapse  at  different  points  in  the  course  of  the  tragedy. 


NOTE  11, 

THAT  Shakespeare  intended  to  refer  to  some  particular  expedition 
in  this  passage  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt ;  but,  unfortunately, 
I  have  not  been  able  to  trace  the  source  of  ^this  description.  The 
particulars  given  are  very  remarkable ;  it  was  a  little  patch  of 

0 


194  A   STUDY   OF  HAMLET. 

ground — not  worth  five  ducats  to  farm — yet  it  was  garrisoned  by 
the  Polack.  I  hoped  to  find  the  original  of  this  unprofitable  ex- 
pedition in  some  of  the  "  adventures "  undertaken  by  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  or  by  one  of  the  Earls  of  Essex  ;  but  I  have  not  succeeded 
to  my  own  satisfaction.  There  are  certain  points  of  resemblance 
between  the  enterprise  of  Walter  Devereux  in  1573,  the  object  of 
which  was  to  conquer  Ulster,  or  a  portion  of  it,  and  this  expedition 
of  Fortinbras.  An  unfavourable  critic  might  speak  of  the  members 
of  that  adventurous  body,  of  which  Walter  Devereux  was  the 
leader,  as  '*'  a  list  of  lawless  resolutes "  without  doing  them  any 
grievous  wrong.  Of  the  apparent  value  of  the  country  which  these 
brave  butchers  were  to  conquer,  some  idea  may  be  formed  from  the 
description  given  by  Eroude  (vol.  x.,  page  554)  : 

"A  few  years  before,  Sir  Henry  Sidney's  progress  through  Ulster  had 
been  gravely  compared  to  Alexander's  journey  into  Bactria.  The  central 
plains  of  Australia,  the  untrodden  jungles  of  Borneo,  or  the  still  vacant 
spaces  in  our  map  of  Africa,  alone  now  on  the  globe's  surface  represent 
districts  as  unknown  and  mysterious  as  the  north-east  angle  of  Ireland  in 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth Ulster  was  a  desert,"  &c. ,  &c. 

One  feels  on  reading  this  eloquent  description  that  five  ducats 
would  have  been  a  high  rent  to  have  paid  for  such  a  paradise  ;  still 
the  extent  of  it  does  not  answer  to  the  description  in  the  text.  In 
1573  Shakespeare  was  only  nine  years  old  ;  in  1580,  when  Walter 
Ealeigh  joined  Grey's  force  in  the  attack  upon  the  fort  of  Smerwick, 
in  Dingle  Bay,  he  was  only  sixteen  :  yet  both  events  might  have 
made  some  impression  on  his  youthful  memory.  Smerwick,  the 
wretched  fort  in  which  the  unhappy  Spaniards  and  Italians  held 
out  for  two  days  against  the  English  butchers,  answers  very  well  to 
"  the  Officer's  "  description  of  the  place  against  which  Fortinbras 
was  leading  his  "  lawless  resolutes."  It  was  "  a  very  small  neck  of 
land  joined  to  the  shore  by  a  bank  of  sand "  (Fronde,  vol.  xi., 
page  224-).  It  was  garrisoned  and  was  regularly  besieged  and  taken 
by  Grey  and  his  followers  ;  the  use  they  made  of  their  conquest  is 
a  matter  of  history;  and  let  us  hope  few  fouler  stains  rest  on 
the  English  name.  If  I  could  positively  identify  either  Walter 
Devereux'  expedition,  or  that  of  Grey,  as  the  original  which  sug- 
gested Shakespeare's  description  in  the  text,  I  should  make  a 
proviso,  that  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  for  one  moment,  that  Fortin- 
bras was  guilty  of  the  fiendish  barbarities  which  both  those  blood- 
thirsty murderers  practised. 

The  whole  of  this  scene  (with  the  exception  of  Fortinbras'  short 
speech)  has  no  parallel  in  the  Quarto  of  1603 ;  it  was  evidently 
added  by  Shakespeare  on  the  revision  of  the  play,  a  circumstance 
which  confirms  me  in  tho  belief  that  ho  had  some  enterprise  of  that 
timo  in  his  mind. 


ADDITIONAL   NOTES.  195 

NOTE  12. 

They  cry,  "  Choose  we  ;  Laertes  shall  be  king  ?' 

IT  would  seem  that,  with  "  the  rabble  "  at  least,  the  popularity  of 
Claudius  had  been  short-lived.  His  accession  was  probably  more 
owing  to  the  nobles  than  to  the  people  :  they  had  wished  to  place 
young  Hamlet  on  his  father's  throne  ;  and  now  that  he  had  been 
sent  off  by  Claudius  to  England,  in  order,  as  they  thought,  to  get 
rid  of  him  as  a  successor,  the  people  clamoured  to  be  allowed  to 
choose  for  themselves  and  to  make  Laertes  King  :  Gervinus  credits 
the  energy  of  Laertes  with  the  creation  of  this  "  rebellion,  which 
looks  giant-like  ;"  but  it  is  probable  that  he  found  the  work 
of  creation  at  least  half-done  :  the  fact  that  Hamlet  had  been 
sent  out  of  the  kingdom  had  more  to  do  with  their  riotous  attitude 
than  any  love  either  of  Laertes  himself  or  of  his  father,  who  had 
been  so  mysteriously  killed.  On  the  question  as  to  whether  the 
Crown  of  Denmark  was  elective  or  not,  see  an  interesting  note 
given  in  Malone's  "Shakespeare"  (ed.  1821,  vol.  vii.,  p.  209). 
1  must  here  point  out  one  touch  of  Shakespeare's  art  which  I  have 
omitted  to  notice  in  the  text.  Immediately  there  is  any  mention 
of  rebellion  the  Queen  is  as  zealous  for  her  husband's  cause  as  if 
she  had  never  heard  anything  to  shake  her  faith  in  him  and  weaken 
her  affection  ;  this  is  right ;  for  after  all  she  had  chosen  him  as  her 
lover,  and,  once  married  to  him,  it  is  more  noble  in  her  to  be  true 
to  him  with  all  his  vices  than  to  plot  against  him,  as  she  proposes 
her  readiness  to  do  in  the  suppressed  scene  of  the  Quarto  1603. 
(See  Appendix  M.) 


NOTE  13. 

THERE  is  some  reason  for  supposing  Horatio  to  have  been  a  sol- 
dier, for  Bernardo  says  (Act  L,  Scene  1,  lines  12,  13) — 

If  you  do  meet  Horatio  and  Marcellus, 

The  rivals  of  my  watch,  bid  them  make  haste. 

"  Rivals  "  means  "  companions,"  or  "  partners  "  (see  Warburton's 
Note  and  Eitsori's  addition  to  it — 'Malone's  "  Shakespeare  "  (1821), 
vol.  vii.,  p.  172).  Malone,  in  his  note,  says  :  "  Horatio  is  certainly 
not  an  officer,  but  Hamlet's  fellow-student  at  Wittenburg ;  but  as 
he  accompanied  Marcellus  and  Bernardo  on  the  watch  from  a  motive 
of  curiosity,  our  poet  considers  him  very  properly  as  an  associate 
with  them." 

So  again  when  Hamlet  asks  (Act  I.,  Scene  2,  line  225)-~ 

Hold  you  the  watch  to-night  ? 


196  A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 

In  the  Quartos  the  answer  is  assigned  to  "  All,"  in  the  Folio  to 
"  Both  " — i  e.,  to  Marcellus  and  Bernardo  only,  a  reading  generally 
adopted. 

But  Horatio's  own  language  in  his  speech  in  the  same  scene 
(lines  196 — 208)  may  determine  the  question ;  for  his  language 
is  scarcely  reconcilable  with  the  supposition  that  he  was  a  fellow- 
officer  of  Marcellus  and  Bernardo,  or  as  if  "  to  keep  the  watch  " 
were  his  duty.  At  the  same  time  I  do  not  see  the  necessity  of 
drawing  any  distinction  between  Bernardo  and  Francisco  ;  they  all 
appear  to  be  on  equal  terms  ;  an  officer  does  not  usually  relieve  a 
private  soldier  on  guard.  But  Bernardo  seems  to  have  been  on 
equal  terms  with  Marcellus,  who  seems  to  assume  a  tone  of  supe- 
riority over  Francisco.  I  think  all  the  difficulties  on  this  point 
might  be  got  over  if  we  suppose  that  there  was  in  the  Court  of 
Denmark  some  body  like  our  "  Yeomen  of  the  Guard,"  or  "  Gentle- 
men at  Arms,"  composed  of  gentlemen  of  good  birth  to  whom  the 
duty  of  keeping  the  watch  near  the  Palace  was  committed.  Of  this 
body  even  Horatio  might  have  been  a  member. 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that,  whether  by  the  design  of 
Shakespeare  or  by  accident,  Horatio  never  once  speaks  to  the  King 
throughout  the  play.  The  King  speaks  to  him  only  once  (Act  V., 
Scene  1,  line  281),  when  he  bids  him  wait  upon  Hamlet — 

I  pray  you,  good  Horatio,  wait  upon  Mm. 

In  the  scene  of  Ophelia's  madness,  when  Horatio  is  present,  the 
King  does  not  address  himself  to  Horatio,  but  to  the  "  Gentleman  "* 
who  had  ushered  in  Ophelia  (see  Act  IV.,  Scene  5). 

Horatio  was  certainly  not  in  favour  at  the  Court  of  Claudius ;  he 
seems  to  be  the  only  person  besides  Hamlet  who  viewed  the  con- 
duct of  that  king  unfavourably. 


NOTE  14. 

If  it  be  so,  Laertes, 

As  how  should  it  be  so  ?  how  otherwise  ? 
Will  you  be  ruled  by  me  ? 

This  passage,  as  it  stands,  seems  to  me  almost  hopelessly  obscure. 
In  Malone's  "Shakespeare"  (1821)  there  is  absolutely  no  note  on 
the  passage.  Caldecott  does  not  notice  it ;  and  even  that  obstinate, 
illuminator  of  dark  passages,  Mr.  Collier's  old  annolator,  passes  it 
by  without  a  word  of  comment. 

The  editors  of  the  "  Clarendon  Hamlet  "  have  a  note  in  which 
they  give  Keightley's  conjecture,  "  how  should  it  but  be  so  ?"  They 


*  Sometimes  the  "Gentleman  "  is  omitted,  and  Horatio  only  is  present, 
in  accordance  with  the  stage  direction  of  the  Folios. 


ADDITIONAL   NOTES.  197 

say,  "  we  should  have  expected,  '  how  should  it  not  be  so  V  "  but 
they  do  not  give  the  anonymous  conjecture  to  be  found  in  the  foot- 
notes of  the  " Cambridge  Shakespeare"  (vol.  viii.,  p.  144),  "how 
shoul't  not  be  so  T  which  I  suspect  to  be  the  right  reading.  They 
suggest  an  explanation  of  the  passage  as  it  stands — viz.,  "  that  the 
first  clause  refers  to  Hamlet's  return,  the  second  to  Laertes  "  feel- 
ings."' (See  Clarendon  Press  Series,  "Hamlet,"  pp.  204,  205.) 

I  confess  that  this,  the  only  attempt  to  explain  the  words,  as 
they  stand,  which  I  can  find,  does  not  satisfy  me.  The  fact  is,  no 
sense  can  be  made  of  them,  if  read  as  printed  in  the  text.  The 
insejtion  of  the  "not "  makes  them  perfectly  intelligible.  It  has  oc- 
curred to  me,  as  there  is  no  authority  for  this  insertion,  that  if  the 
word  "  should  "  were  italicised  we  might  make  sense  of  it,  thus — 

If  it  be  so — 

(i.e.,  if  Hamlet  has  come  back  because,  on  consideration,  he  did  not 
choose  to  go  to  England) — 

As  how  should  it  be  so  ? 

(i.e.,  how  should  there  be  any  question  about  it  being  so  1) — • 
How  (could  it  be)  otherwise  ? 

I  admit  that  we  should  expect,  in  this  case,  the  word  '*  if  "  to  bo 
repeated,  but  I  can  make  sense  of  the  speech  in  no  other  manner. 
The  general  meaning  is  clear  :  the  King  is  puzzling  over  this  sudden 
return  of  Hamlet,  and  he  rapidly  reviews  the  situation.  First  he 
asks — 

Arc  all  the  rest  come  back  ? 
Or  ia'ii  some  abuse,  and  no  such  thing  ? 

Surely  his  trusty  spaniels,  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  cannot 
have  disobeyed  or  deceived  him  !  Then  where  are  they  \  They 
would  not  go  to  England  without  Hamlet,  and  surely  they  would 
not  let  him  escape.  The  writing  is  certainly  Hamlet's  ;  he  answers 
to  Laertes'  inquiry — 

"  Naked  1" 
And  in  a  postscript  here,  he  says  "  Alone." 

Can  they  have  been  wrecked  and  he  alone  saved  ?  Hamlet  cannot 
have  discovered  the  plot  against  him.  Eosencrantz  and  Guilden- 
stern did  not  know  the  contents  of  the  letter — they  could  not  have 
betrayed  him.  ]STo — it  must  be  that  ho  has  on  a  sudden  caprice 
refused  to  continue  the  voyage,  and  made  the  sailors  turn  back. 
Yes,  it  must  be  so — without  question  it  must  be.  Then  in  that 
case  how  can  he  get  rid  of  Hamlet  and  appease  Laertes  at  one  and 
the  same  time  ?  Something  like  these  thoughts  would  pass 
through  the  mind  of  Claudius  before  he  succeeds  in  hitting  upon' 
the  ingenious  scheme  which  he  now  proceeds  to  divulge  to  Laertes. 


193 


A   STUDY  OF  HiMLET. 


NOTE  15. 

WHEN  did  the  madness  of  Englishmen  take  rank  as  a  national 
characteristic  on  the  Continent  1  It  is  hard  to  say.  That  invtovato 
virgin.  Good  Queen  Bess,  was  sufficiently  eccentric  to  impress  the 
foreigners,  who  were  allowed  access  to  her  beauteous  presence,  with 
an  idea  that*  she  was  slightly  mad.  Other  monarchs  in  that  age 
might  be  eccentric  in  their  vices,  but  her  especial  oddity  consisted 
in  her  virtues.  There  was  a  taint  of  insanity  about  them.  Henry 
the  Eighth  was  a  perfect  Bedlam  in  himself,  and  might  well  in- 
spire foreigners  with  unfavourable  views  as  to  the  sanity  of  English- 
men. In  the  Plantagenets'  time,  and  in  that  of  their  immediate 
successors,  the  madness  of  Englishmen  chiefly  made  itself  remark- 
able by  the  audacious  valour  with  which  they  gained  victories  over 
their  foreign  foes.  Tom  Coryat,  that  most  facetious  of  travellers, 
might  well  spread  far  and  wide  a  reputation  for  eccentricity  on 
behalf  of  his  countrymen  ;  but  his  "  Crudities  "  were  not  given  to 
the  public  till  seven  years  after  the  publication  of  "  Hamlet."  One 
ought  to  examine  carefully  the  journals  and  letters  of  foreigners, 
published  during  the  IGth  century,  in  order  to  trace  the  origin  of  our 
reputation  for  madness.  In  connection  with  this  imputation  on  our 
national  sanity,  it  would  occur  to  every  reader  of  Shakespeare  to 
see  what  Portia  has  to  say  of  her  English  suitor.  On  referring  to 
the  passage  we  find  that  not  madness,  nor  eccentricity,  but  two 
other  failings,  are  there  imputed  to  our  countrymen. 

NERISSA.  What  say  you,  then,  to  .Falconbridgo,  the  young  baron  of 
England  ? 

PORTIA.  You  know,  I  say  nothing  to  him,  for  he  understands  not  me, 
nor  I  him  :  he  hath  neither  Latin,  French,  nor  Italian,  and 
you  will  come  into  the  court  and  swear  that  I  have  a  poor 
pennyworth  of  English.  He  is  a  proper  man's  picture,  but 
alas  !  who  can  converse  with  a  dumb  show  ?  How  oddly 
he  is  suited !  I  think  he  bought  his  doublet  in  Italy,  his 
round  hose  in  France,  his  bonnet  in  Germany,  and  his 
behaviour  everywhere. 

— "  Merchant  of  Venice,"  Act  I.,  Sc.  2,  lines  59-69. 

Now,  it  is  singular  that  up  to  a  very  few  years  ago  these  two 
defects  were,  not  without  justice,  imputed  pretty  generally  to  our 
fellow-countrymen  on  the  Continent — namely,  that  we  could  not 
speak  any  but  our  own  language,  and  that  our  dress  was  of  a  non- 
descript character  and  in  vile  taste.  The  fact  that  our  American 
cousins  have  outshone  us  in  both  particulars,  that  certain  individual 
Englishmen  have  rather  distinguished  themselves  by  their  fluency 
in  foreign  tongues,  and  that  our  style  of  dress  has  even  found  favour 
abroad — all  the.se  circumstances  have  combined  to  relieve  us  of 
these  imputations  ;  but  still,  in  the  case  of  the  majority  of  English 
travellers  they  are  not  wholly  unreasonable.  ' 


NOTES.  l(.l'.l 


NOTE  16. 

THE  first  of  these  two  passages  is  as  follows  : — 

OSRIO.  The  king,  sir,  hath  laid,  sir,  that  in  a  dozen  passes  between  your- 
self and  him,  he  shall  not  exceed  you  three  hits  :  he  hath  laid  on  twelve 
for  nine. 

Certainly  this  is  very  obscurely  expressed,  for  it  was  impossible 
that  Osric  could  state  anything  clearly  or  simply  ;  but  I  think  the 
meaning  is  plain.  "  A  dozen  passes  "  does  not  mean  simply  twelve 
hits,  for  in  a  pass  both  might  score  a  hit,  the  wager,  being  that 
Laertes  will  not  gain  three  more  hits  than  Hamlet.  To  do  this  it  is 
plain  Laertes  must  hit  his  opponent  twelve  times  at  least  in  every 
twenty-one,  or  four  times  in  every  seven  ;  the  odds,  in  short,  that 
Laertes  lays  on  himself  are  twelve  to  nine,  or  four  to  three.  It 
would  have  been  quite  clear  if  Osric  had  said  that  the  King  had 
laid  that  Laertes  would  not  win  best  out  of  seven  hits  three  times, 
for  that  is  what  it  really  comes  to.  I  think  the  expression  "  a 
dozen  "  was  a  very  vague  one  in  Shakespeare's  time,  and  that  if  the 
text  is  corrupt,  the  corruption  lies  in  these  words.  In  the  Quarto 
1603  we  find  the  Gravedigger,  speaking  of  Yorick:s  skull,  says  to 
Hamlet,  "  Looke  you,  here's  a  scull  hath  bin  here  these  dozen 
yeare."  (Sve  Allen's  Reprint,  page  86,  and  Appendix  P,  page 
182.) 
'  The  other  passage  I  have  alluded  to  is  this — 

"Thus  has  he — and  many  more  of  the  same  breed  that  I  know  the  drosa 
age  dotes  on— only  got  the  time  of  the  tune  and  outward  habit  of  encoun- 
ter ;  a  kind  of  yesty  collection,  which  carries  them  through  and  through 
the  most,  fond  and  winnQwed  opinions." 

The  words-  in  italics  are  the  readings  of  the  Folios.  The  sec  >nd 
.and  third  Quartos  read  "  prophane  and  trennowed"  the  fourth 
Quarto,  "prophane  and  trennowned  ;"  the  fifth  and  sixth  Quartos, 
"profane  and  trennowned;"  but  the  1676  Quarto  reads  "prophane 
and  renowned,"  which  was  probably  the  right  reading. 

There  are  various  emendations.  Johnson  suggests  "  sane  and 
renowned."  He  explains  it :  "  These  men  have  got  the  cant  of  the 
day  .  .  a  kind  of  frothy  collection  of  fashionable  prattle  which 
yet  carries  them  through  the  moat  select  and  approved  judgments." 

Steevens  takes  "fond"  to  mean  foolish,  and  "  winnowed" 
"  sifted,"  "  examined,"  the  sense  being  that  such  men  impose 
upon  not  only  "  the  weak,  but  those  of  sounder  judgment." 

I  believe  the  sense  to  be  different,  whichever  reading  we  take  : 
"profane  and  renowned  opinions"  would  mean  "  common  and 
well-known  opinions  " — profane  in  the  same  sense  as  the  Latin  pro- 
fanus — e.  a. : 

Odi  profanum  vulgus  et  arceo  : 


200 


A   STUDY   OF   HAMLET. 


whilst  "fond  and  winnowed "  would  mean  "  foolish  and  such  as 
are  blown  about  by  the  wind."  What  Hamlet  means  to  say  is 
that  such  men  as  Osric  have  a  "yesty"  or  "superficial"  stock  of 
knowledge,  which  enables  them  to  talk  fluently  on  common  and 
well-known  subjects,  or  to  impose  upon  foolish  and  unsteady  people, 
who  are  carried  away  by  every  wind  of  opinion  and  have  no  judg- 
ment of  their  own. 


NOTE  17. 


How  this  change  of  foils  is  brought  about  is  not  quite  certain. 
Salvini  delighted  and  surprised  the  audience,  at  the  first  representa- 
tion he  gave  of  Hamlet,  by  the  graceful  manner  in  which  he 
managed  this  exchange.  After  Laertes  had  hit  him  he  put  his 
hand  up  to  his  side,  as  if  he  felt  the  prick  of  the  unbated  weapon  ; 
then  just  as  Laertes  was  about  to  take  up  his  foil,  which  had 
been  knocked  out  of  his  hand  in  the  encounter,  Signer  Salvini 
placed  his  foot  on  it,  and,  bowing  gracefully,  presented  his  anta- 
gonist with  his  own  foil.  Graceful  as  this  undeniably  is?  I  do  not 
think  it  can  be  justified  on  a  careful  consideration  of  the  scene ; 
the  action  is  too  deliberate  ;  it  is  manifest  that  Hamlet  does  not 
stop  when  he  is  hit,  but  that  he  continues  his  attack  furiously  till 
the  point  of  each  foil  getting  caught  in  the  hilt  of  the  other,  both 
are  disarmed  ;  but  they  do  not  stop,  Hamlet  being  too  eager  to  hit 
Laertes  ;  each  snatches  at  the  first  weapon  that  conies  to  his  hand, 
and  they  continue  the  struggle,  in  which  Hamlet  wounds  Laertes. 
In  answer  to  the  objection  that  Laertes,  though  struck  with  the 
venomed  point  after  Hamlet,  when  the  virulence  of  the  poison 
might  be  supposed  to  have  diminished,  yet  dies  the  first — it  may 
be  observed  that  Hamlet's  wound  was  probably  much  the  slighter 
of  the  two,  for  in  the  excited  state  in  which  he  evidently  was,  and 
not  knowing  he  had  an  unbated  weapon  in  his  hand,  he  would 
probably  strike  Laertes  much  harder  than  Laertes,  knowing  the 
deadly  power  of  the  poison,  had  struck  him.  Hamlet's  words  after 
the  scuffle — 

Nay,  come  again— 

fould  hardly  have  been  spoken  had  he  detected  Laertes'  treachery, 
or  had  he  been  conscious  that  he  was  wounded.  His  mind  is,  I 
believe,  entirely  wrapped  up  in  the  trial  of  skill,  for  the  time  being, 
and  his  excitement  arises  from  his  eagerness  to  win  the  match. ' 


SCHEME  OF 

Occupied  by  fhe  play  of  "Hamlet"  showing,   approximately, 
intervals  beticeen  the  various  Scenes  and  Acts. 


ACT  i. 

Scene  1.—  Night. 


INTERVAL   UF  TWELVE   HOUR*. 


Scene  z.  — 

Scene  Z.-y-ime' 


INTERVAL  OF  SOME  HOURS. 

;  Z }  NiSnt- 
Time  occupied  by  First  Act  :  Twenty-four  hour3. 

INTERVAL  OF  ABOUT  TWO  MONTHS  AND  A  HALF. 


II. 

Scctie  1.—  1 

Scene  2. —  >  Day-time.     Action  consecutive. 

Scene  3.— ) 

INTERVAL  OF  TWENTY-FOUR  HOURS. 


ACT  III. 

Scene  1. — Morning. 

INTERVAL   OF   SOME   HOURS. 

Scene  2.—  (  Evening      ) 

Scene  3. —  <       to  /•  x\ction  consecutive. 

Scene  i:—  (    night.        ) 


202  SCHEME   OF   TIME. 


ACT  IV. 

Scene  1.— 


Scene  2. —  (  The  same  night.  The  action  being  consecutive  from  Act  III 
Scene  3.—  (      Scene  2,  to  Act  IV.,  Scene  4,  inclusive. 
Scene  4.—  ) 


INTERVAL  OF   TWO  MONTH,?. 

Scene  5.—  ) 

Scene  6.—  >  Day-time.     Action  consecutive. 

Scene  7.—  ) 

INTERVAL  OF  TV\*0  DAYS; 


ACT  V. 

Scene  1.—  Day-titae. 

AN   INTERVAL,    PERHAPS,    OF   TWENTY-FOUR   HOURS. 

Scene  2. — Day-time. 

END  OF  1'LAY. 


INDEX. 


Addison's  "Cato,"  14. 

Bernardo— his  meeting  with  Hamlet,  18 ;  the  distinction  between  him  and  Mar- 
cellus  and  Francisco,  196. 

Betterton,  167,  192. 

Caldecott's  edition  of  "Hamlet,"  15. 

Cambridge  "  Shakespeare,"  16,  197. 

'Clarendon'  "Hamlet,"  169,187-8,196-7. 

Claudius— his  succession  to  the  throne,  16 ;  assumption  of  fatherly  affection  for 
Hamlet,  17 ;  inquires  of  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  the  result  of  their 
interview  with  Hamlet,  39  ;  his  dread  of  Hamlet  increased,  41  ;  decides  to 
send  him  to  England,  41 ;  his  consent  to  be  present  at  the  play,  42 ;  pre- 
pares to  send  Hamlet  to  England,  45 ;  his  soliloquy  and  prayer,  45 ;  his 
hypocrisy,  60 ;  apology  for  the  leniency  he  has  shown  to  Hamlet,  63  ; 
informs  Hamlet  of  his  decision  to  send  him  to  England,  63  ;  his  self-posses- 
sion when  Laertes  demands  an  explanation,  78 ;  receives  Hamlet's  letter,  83 ; 
concocts  his  plan  of  revenge  on  Hamlet  with  Laertes,  84  ;  contrast  between 
Claudius  and  Laertes,  86  ;  his  hypocrisy  at  the  last,  107  ;  insinuates  himself 
into  Gertrude's  affections  and  some  of  the  kingly  duties,  116  ;  contrast 
between  Claudius  and  the  elder  Hamlet,  116 ;  was  he  intended  to  be  a 
satire  on  Henry  VIII.?  116;  the  amount  of  his  affection  for  Gertrude,  118  ;  his 
plans  arrive  at  maturity,  118;  his  conduct  during  Hamlet's  absencg  at 
Wittenberg,  120  ;  accepts  the  crown,  121. 

Davies,  Tom — his  account  of  the  arrangement  of  the  pictures  in  the  closet- 
scene,  167. 

Denmark— Crown  of,  whether  elective/ 118,  195;  kings  of,  191. 

Fortinbras— his  character  and  appearance,  73 ;  his  victorious  return,  108 ;  was  he 
heir  to  the  Crown  of  Norway?  177—180, 

Garrick,  169. 

Gervinus,  90,  129,  148,  183,  186,  195. 

Ghost— its  first  appearance  to  Hamlet,  19 ;  Hamlet's  distrust  of  its  genuineness,  39; 
second  appearance  to  Hamlet,  in  the  closet-scene,  50 ;  not  seen  by  the 
Queen,  51 ;  effect  of  its  appearance,  52 ;  do  Horatio  and  Marcellus  hear  the 
Ghost  at  end  of  Act  I.?  184. 

Goethe,  15,  16,  131,  149. 

Guildenstern— see  Rosencrantz. 


204  INDEX, 


. 

Hamlet—  love  for  fiis  father,  10;  his  weakness,  11  ;  contempt  of  evil,  12  ;  fidelity 
to  his  friends,  12;  uncongeniality,  12;  first  entry,  16;  respect  to  his 
mother,  18  ;  first  soliloquy,  18  ;  meeting  with  Horatio,  Marcellus,  and 
Bernardo,  18  ;  interview  with  the  Ghost,  19  ;  second  soliloqiiy,  21  ;  assump- 
tion of  madness,  22  ;  his  appeal  to  the  aifection  of  his  friends,  23  ;  resolves 
to  break  off  his  affectionate  relations  with  Ophelia^^j  was  he  guilty  of  the 
ruin  of  Ophelia  ?  26  ;  his  interview  with  Ophelia  as  planned  by  Pqlonius,  27  ; 
his  loss  of  confidence,  in  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  33  ;  reception  of  the 
players,  35  ;  third  soliloquy,  36  ;  fourth  soliloquy,  39  ;  his  speech  to  Hora- 
tio, 42  ;  his  conduct  during  the  play-scene,  42  ;  his  thoughts  of  diabolical 
revenge,  45  ;  his  conduct  during  the  closet-scene,  47  ;  his  conduct  to  his 
mother  considered,  53  ;  the  guilt  incurred  through  killing  Polonius,  55  ; 
his  knowledge  of  the  King's  treachery  in  sending  him  to  England,  57  ; 
assumption  of  ironical  incoherence  toward  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern, 
62  ;  his  defence  to  Horatio  of  his  conduct  to  Eosencrantz  and  Guildenstern, 
64  ;  to  what  extent  we  can  admit  it  as  a  justification  '<$(  that  conduct,  68  ; 
his  meeting  with  the  soldiers  of  Fortinbras,  70  ;  fifth  soliloquy,  71  ;  his 
conduct  during  the  Grave-diggers'  scene,  93  ;  his  ignorance  of  Ophelia's 
madness,  93  ;  proof  of  his  age,  95  ;  his  conduct  when  he  learns  it  is  Ophelia's 
funeral,  96  ;  his  sorrow  for  his  passion  at  Ophelia's  grave,  102  ;  ridicules 
Osric,  1^2  ;  courteous  bearing  when  the  King  and  Queen  ai-e  announced,  103; 
his  fatalism,  104  ^apology  to  Laertesj  104*;  his  increased^  courtesy  to  .all, 
106  ;  kills  the  King7l08~;  his  charge  io  Horatio  and  death,  108  ;  summary 
of  his  character,  109  ;  Salvini's  opinion  as  to  his  chief  characteristic,  110  ; 
want  of  humility  and  faith  his  principal  defect,  111  ;  does  he  represent 
religious  uncertainty?  112;  his  Dearly  lite,  113;  his  religion,  115;  daily 
occupations,  115;  his  letter  to  Ophelia,  119;  the  shock  he  receives  on 
reaching  Elsinore  after  his  father's  death,  122  ;  his  age,  181  —  2  ;  comparison 
between  him  and  Prince  Henry,  186. 

Horatio  —his  meeting  with  Hamlet  in  company  with  Marcellus  and  Bernardo,  13  ; 
his  interview  with  Hamlet  before  the  play-scene,  42  ;  treated  with  confidence 
by  the  Queen,  77  ;  interview  with  the  sailors,  81  ;  his  position,  81  ;  goes  to 
jojin  Hamlet,  82  ;  accompanies  Hamlet  to  the  churchyard,  93  ;  receives 
J  f  a%lct's  last  charge  to  live  and  clear  his  name,  109  ;  his  marked  difference 
from  the  rest  of  the  characters,  110  ;  his  similarity  to  Pylades,  foot-note, 
110  ;  never  speaks  to  the  King,  196;  was  he  a  soldier?  196. 

-Irving—  references  to  his  acting  in  "Hamlet,"  165,  166. 

Johnson,  15—  his  censure  on  Hamlet's  apology  to  Laertes,  104  ;  proved  to  be  un- 
•  just,  105,  199. 

Kean,  Edmund,  44. 

Laertes—  rebellion  in  his  favour,  78  ;  his  conduct  during  his  interview  with  the 
King,  79  ;  grief  for  Ophelia's  condition,  80  ;  his  conduct  when  Claudius 
proposes  his  plan  of  vengeance  on  Hamlet,  84  ;  contrast  between  Laertes 
and  Claudius,  86  ;  the  proportion  of  guilt  to  be  assigned  to  him  for  his  part 
in  this  plot,  88  ;  Gervinus'  opinion  of  him  censured,  90  ;  expostulates  with 
the  priests  at  his  sister's  funeral,  96  ;  his  answer  to  Hamlet's  apology  before 
the  duel,  106  ;  seeming  repentance  for  his  treachery,  108  ;  his  conduct  to 
his  sister,  132,  133  ;  his  self-conceit,  133  ;  his  sententiousness  an  imitation 
of  his  father,  133. 

Malone,  15,  23,  38,  87,  93,  101,  165,  188,  195. 

Marcellus  —  his  meeting  with  Hamlet,  18. 


INDEX.  205 

Ophelia -her  description  to  Polonius  of  her  last  interview  with  Hamlet,  24;  her 
conduct  during  the  meeting  with  Hamlet  as  planned  by  Polonius,  28 ;  her 
funeral,  96;  her  purity,  128;  Gervinus'  unjustitiable  conclusions  on  her 
conduct,  129 ;  Goethe's  opinion  of  her  character,  131 ;  passages  from  the 
play  confuting  their  aspersions,  132;  her  conduct  during  the  play-scene, 
141 ;  strengthens  the  proof  of  her  purity,  143  ;  her  madness,  143  ;  the  songs 
she  sings,  144 ;  remarks  on  Gervinus'  and  Goethe's  conception  of  her  cha- 
racter, 148. 

Pictures— the  two  pictures  in  the  oloset-scene  (Appendix) :  Should  they  be  pre- 
sented on  the  stage  or  seen  only  in  the  mind's  eye  of  Hamlet  ?  166 — 171 : 
how  represented  on  the  stage  since  the  time  of  Betterton,  167—168 ;  by 
various  actors,  169. 

Polonius — his  device  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  Hamlet's  madness,  27 ;  really  a 
satire  on  Lord  Burleigh,  32  ;  announces  the  players,  34  ;  an  absolute  anti- 
thesis of  Hamlet,  35  ;  his  counsels  to  the  Queen  before  the  closet-scene,  47  ; 
his  death,  48 ;  his  fate  not  undeserved,  55 ;  his  popularity,  18 ;  his  exhorta- 
tions to  Ophelia,  133—135 ;  his  testimony  to  her  filial  conduct,  136—137. 

Queen— her  conduct  during  the  closet-scene,  48 ;  her  freedom  from  hypocrisy,  49  ; 
not  guilty  of  connivance  at,  or  complicity  in,  her  first  husband's  nnirder, 
55 ;  the  promise  given  by  her  not  to  betray  Hamlet's  secret,  57 ;  her  ex- 
planation  of  the  murder  of  Polonius  to  the  King,  59  ;  her  increased  respect 
for  Horatio,  77 ;  her  description  of  Hamlet's  mental  condition,  100 ;  her 
death,  107. 

Richardson's  "Essay  on  Hamlet,"  15. 

Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  —  welcomed  by  the  King  and  Queen,  31 ;  their  inter- 
view with  Hamlet,  33  ;  they  summon  Hamlet  to  his  mother's  presence,  44  ; 
informed  by  the  King  that  they  are  to  go  to  England  with  Hamlet,  60 ; 
their  inseparability,  61 ;  they  seek  Hamlet  to  get  from  him  where  he  has 
put  the  body  of  Polonius,  61 ;  discussion  of  the  question,  whether  they  had 
any  guilty  knowledge  of  the  King's  treachery  in  sending  Hamlet  to  Eng- 
land, 63. 

Rossi,  Ernesto -references  to  his  acting  in  "  Hamlet,"  163,  166,  169. 

Rowe,  14. 

i -references  to  his  acting  in  "Hamlet,"  165,  166,  200,  and  footWte. 

Schlegel,  16,  183. 

Seymour  ("  Remarks  on  Shakespeare  "),  168. 

Steevens,  15,  98,  101,  104,  118,  187. 

Ulrici,  180,  183,  189. 

Voltaire,  14. 


M'QOWAX  AND  co.,  STEAM  PRINTERS,  OBEAT  WINDMILI,  STREET,  HAYMARKET,  LONDOH. 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1  -year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


SEP  1  2 


12,000(11/95) 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY