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HAMLET 


LONDON  :      PRINTED     BY 

SPOTTISWOODE     AND     CO.,      NEW-STREET     SQUARE 

AND     PARLIAMENT     STREET 


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THE     TRAGEDIE     OF 


HAMLET,  Prince  of  Denmarke 


A     STUDY     WITH    THE     TEXT 


THE    FOLIO    OF     1 62  3 


BY 

GEORGE    MAC  DONALD 


WJiat  would  you  gracious  figure . 


LONDON 
LONGMANS,     GREEN,     AND     CO. 

1885 


Ail    rights     reserved 


TO 
MY    HONOURED    RELATIVE 

ALEXANDER    STEWART     MACCOLL 

A   LITTLE  LESS  THAN    KIN,    AND   MORE  THAN    KIND 

TO    WHOM    I    OWE    IN    ESPECIAL    THE    TRUE    UNDERSTANDING    OF 

THE    GREAT    SOLILOQUY 

I    DEDICATE 

WITH    LOVE    AND    GRATITUDE 

THIS   EFFORT  TO  GIVE   HAMLET  AND  SHAKSPERE  THEIR  DUE 

GEORGE    MAC  DONALD 

BORDIGHERA 

Christinas,  1884 


PREFACE 


By  this  edition  of  Hamlet  I  hope  to  help  the  student  of 
Shakspere  to  understand  the  play — and  first  of  all  Hamlet 
himself,  whose  spiritual  and  moral  nature  are  the  real  material 
of  the  tragedy,  to  which  every  other  interest  of  the  play  is 
subservient.  But  while  mainly  attempting,  from  the  words 
and  behaviour  Shakspere  has  given  him,  to  explain  the  man, 
I  have  cast  what  light  I  could  upon  everything  in  the  play, 
including  the  perplexities  arising  from  extreme  condensation 
of  meaning,  figure,  and  expression. 

As  it  is  more  than  desirable  that  the  student  should 
know  when  he  is  reading  the  most  approximate  presentation 
accessible  of  what  Shakspere  uttered,  and  when  that  which 
modern  editors  have,  with  reason  good  or  bad,  often  not 
without  presumption,  substituted  for  that  which  they  received, 
I  have  given  the  text,  letter  for  letter,  point  for  point,  of  the 
First  Folio,  with  the  variations  of  the  Second  Quarto  in  the 
margin  and  at  the  foot  of  the  page. 

Of  Hamlet  there  are  but  two  editions  of  authority,  those 
called  the  Second  Quarto  and  the  First  Folio ;  but  there  is 
another  which  requires  remark. 

In  the  year  1603  came  out  the  edition  known  as  the 
First  Quarto — clearly  without  the  poet's  permission,  and 
doubtless  as  much  to  his  displeasure  :  the  following  year  he 


VI 11 


PREFACE 


sent  out  an    edition   very  different,  and    larger  in    the  pro- 
portion of  one  hundred  pages  to  sixty-four.     Concerning  the 
former  my  theory  is — though  it  is  not  my  business  to  enter 
into  the  question  here — that  it  was  printed  from  Shakspere's 
sketch  for  the  play,  written  with  matter  crowding  upon  him 
too  fast  for  expansion  or  development,  and  intended  only  for  a 
continuous  memorandum  of  things  he  would  take  up  and  work 
out  afterwards.    It  seems  almost  at  times  as  if  he  but  marked 
certain  bales  of  thought  so  as  to  find  them  again,  and  for  the 
present  threw  them  aside — knowing  that  by  the  marks  he  could 
recall  the  thoughts  they  stood  for,  but  not  intending  thereby  to 
convey  them  to  any  reader.     I  cannot,  with  evidence  before 
me,  incredible  but  through  the  eyes  themselves,  of  the  illimit- 
able scope  of  printers'  blundering,  believe  all  the  confusion, 
unintelligibility,  neglect  of  grammar,  construction,  continuity, 
sense,  attributable  to  them.     In  parts  it  is  more  like  a  series 
of  notes  printed  with  the  interlineations  horribly  jumbled  ; 
while  in  other  parts  it  looks  as  if  it  had  been  taken  down  from 
the  stage  by  an  ear  without  a  brain,  and  then  yet  more  in- 
correctly printed  ;  parts,  nevertheless,  in  which  it  most  differs 
from  the  authorized   editions,  are  yet  indubitably  from  the 
hand    of  Shakspere.     I    greatly   doubt    if  any  ready-writer 
would  have  dared  publish  some  of  its   chaotic   passages  as 
taken  down  from  the  stage  ;  nor  do  I  believe  the  play  was 
ever  presented  in  anything  like  such  an  unfinished  state.     I 
rather  think    some    fellow  about  the  theatre,   v/hether  more 
rogue  or  fool  we  will  pay  him  the  thankful   tribute   not  to 
enquire,    chancing   upon   the  crude  embryonic   mass    in   the 
poet's   hand,  traitorously  pounced  upon   it,  and   betrayed  it 
to  the  printers — therein  serving  the   poet  such  an  evil  turn 
as  if  a  sculptor's  workman  took  a  mould  of  the  clay  figure 
on   which  his   master   had  been  but   a  few  days   employed, 


PREFACE  ix 

and  published  casts  of  it  as  the  sculptor's  work.1  To  us  not 
the  less  is  the  corpus  delicti  precious — and  that  unspeakably 
— for  it  enables  us  to  see  something  of  the  creational 
development  of  the  drama,  besides  serving  occasionally  to 
cast  light  upon  portions  of  it,  yielding  hints  of  the  original 
intention  where  the  after  work  has  less  plainly  presented  it. 

The  Second  Quarto  bears  on  its  title-page,  compelled  to  a 
recognition  of  the  former, — '  Newly  imprinted  and  enlarged 
to  almost  as  much  againe  as  it  was,  according  to  the  true 
and  perfect  Coppie '  ;  and  it  is  in  truth  a  harmonious  world 
of  which  the  former  issue  was  but  the  chaos.  It  is  the  drama 
itself,  the  concluded  work  of  the  master's  hand,  though  yet  to 
be  once  more  subjected  to  a  little  pruning,  a  little  touching, 
a  little  rectifying.  But  the  author  would  seem  to  have  been 
as  trusting  over  the  work  of  the  printers,  as  they  were  care- 
less of  his,  and  the  result  is  sometimes  pitiable.  The  blunders 
are  appalling.  Both  in  it  and  in  the  Folio  the  marginal  note 
again  and  again  suggests  itself :  '  Here  the  compositor  was 
drunk,  the  press-reader  asleep,  the  devil  only  aware.'  But 
though  the  blunders  elbow  one  another  in  tumultuous 
fashion,  not  therefore  all  words  and  phrases  supposed  to  be 
such  are  blunders.  The  old  superstition  of  plenary  inspiration 
may,  by  its  reverence  for  the  very  word,  have  saved  many  a 
meaning  from  the  obliteration  of  a  misunderstanding  scribe  : 
in  all  critical  work  it  seems  to  me  well  to  cling  to  the  word 
until  one  sinks  not  merely  baffled,  but  exhausted. 

I  come  now  to  the  relation  between  the  Second  Quarto 
and  the  Folio. 

My   theory   is — that  Shakspere   worked    upon    his    own 

1  Shakspere  has  in  this  matter  fared  even  worse  than  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  the  first  edition  of  whose  Religio  Medici,  nowise  intended  for  the 
public,  was  printed  without  his  knowledge. 


x  PREFACE 

copy  of  the  Second  Quarto,  cancelling  and  adding,  and  that, 
after  his  death,  this  copy  came,  along  with  original  manu- 
scripts, into  the  hands  of  his  friends  the  editors  of  the  Folio, 
who  proceeded  to  print  according  to  his  alterations. 

These  friends  and  editors  in  their  preface  profess  thus  : 
1  It  had  bene  a  thing,  we  confesse,  worthie  to  haue  bene 
wished,  that  the  Author  himselfe  had  liu'd  to  haue  set  forth, 
and  ouerseen  his  owne  writings  ;  But  since  it  hath  bin  ordain'd 
otherwise,  and  he  by  death  departed  from  that  right,  we 
pray  you  do  not  envie  his  Friends,  the  office  of  their  care,  and 
paine,  to  haue  collected  &  publish'd  them,  as  where  (before) 
you  were  abus'd  with  diuerse  stolne,  and  surreptitious  copies, 
maimed,  and  deformed  by  the  frauds  and  stealthes  of  iniurious 
impostors,  that  expos'd  them  :  euen  those,  are  now  offer'd  to 
your  view  cur'd,  and  perfect  of  their  limbes  ;  and  all  the  rest, 
absolute  in  their  numbers,  as  he  conceiued  the.  Who,  as  he 
was  a  happie  imitator  of  Nature,  was  a  most  gentle  expresser 
of  it.  His  mind  and  hand  went  together :  And  what  he 
thought,  he  vttered  with  that  easinesse,  that  wee  haue  scarse 
receiued  from  him  a  blot  in  his  papers.  But  it  is  not  our 
prouince,  who  onely  gather  his  works,  and  giue  them  you, 
to  praise  him.     It  is  yours  that  reade  him.' 

These  are  hardly  the  words  of  men  who  would  take 
liberties,  and  liberties  enormous,  after  ideas  of  their  own, 
with  the  text  of  a  friend  thus  honoured.  But  although 
they  printed  with  intent  altogether  faithful,  they  did  so  cer- 
tainly without  any  adequate  jealousy  of  the  printers — ap- 
parently without  a  suspicion  of  how  they  could  blunder.  Of 
blunders  therefore  in  the  Folio  also  there  are  many,  some 
through  mere  following  of  blundered  print,  some  in  fresh  cor- 
ruption of  the  same,  some  through  mistaking  of  the  manu- 
script corrections,  and  some  probably  from  the  misprinting  of 


PREFACE  xi 

mistakes,  so  that  the  corrections  themselves  are  at  times  any- 
thing but  correctly  recorded.  I  assume  also  that  the  printers 
were  not  altogether  above  the  mean  passion,  common  to  the 
day-labourers  of  Art,  from  Chaucer's  Adam  Scrivener  down 
to  the  present  carvers  of  marble,  for  modifying  and  improving 
the  work  of  the  master.  The  vain  incapacity  of  a  self- 
constituted  critic  will  make  him  regard  his  poorest  fancy  as 
an  emendation;  seldom  has  he  the  insight  of  Touchstone 
to  recognize,  or  his  modesty  to  acknowledge,  that  although 
his  own,  it  is  none  the  less  an  ill-favoured  thing. 

Not  such,  however,  was  the  spirit  of  the  editors  ;  and  all 
the  changes  of  importance  from  the  text  of  the  Quarto  I 
receive  as  Shakspere's  own.  With  this  belief  there  can  be  no 
presumption  in  saying  that  they  seem  to  me  not  only  to 
trim  the  parts  immediately  affected,  but  to  render  the  play 
more  harmonious  and  consistent.  It  is  no  presumption  to 
take  the  Poet  for  superior  to  his  work  and  capable  of  think- 
ing he  could  better  it — neither,  so  believing,  to  imagine  one 
can  see  that  he  has  been  successful. 

A  main  argument  for  the  acceptance  of  the  Folio  edition 
as  the  Poet's  last  presentment  of  his  work,  lies  in  the  fact  that 
there  are  passages  in  it  which  are  not  in  the  Quarto,  and  are 
very  plainly  from  his  hand.  If  we  accept  these,  what  right 
have  we  to  regard  the  omission  from  the  Folio  of  passages  in 
the  Quarto  as  not  proceeding  from  the  same  hand  ?  Had 
there  been  omissions  only,  we  might  well  have  doubted  ;  but 
the  insertions  greatly  tend  to  remove  the  doubt.  I  cannot 
even  imagine  the  arguments  which  would  prevail  upon  me  to 
accept  the  latter  and  refuse  the  former.  Omission  itself 
shows  for  a  master-hand  :  see  the  magnificent  passage  omitted, 
and  rightly,  by  Milton  from  the  opening  of  his  Comus. 

(  But  when  a  man  has  published  two  forms  of  a  thing,  may 


xii  PREFACE 

we  not  judge  between  him  and  himself,  and  take  the  reading 
we  like  better  ? '  Assuredly.  Take  either  the  Quarto  or  the 
Folio  ;  both  are  Shakspere's.  Take  any  reading  from  either, 
and  defend  it.  But  do  not  mix  up  the  two,  retaining  what 
he  omits  along  with  what  he  inserts,  and  print  them  so.  This 
is  what  the  editors  do — and  the  thing  is  not  Shakspere's. 
With  homage  like  this,  no  artist  could  be  other  than  indig- 
nant. It  is  well  to  show  every  difference,  even  to  one  of 
spelling  where  it  might  indicate  possibly  a  different  word, 
but  there  ought  to  be  no  mingling  of  differences.  If  I  prefer 
the  reading  of  the  Quarto  to  that  of  the  Folio,  as  may  some- 
times well  happen  where  blunders  so  abound,  I  say  I  prefer 
— I  do  not  dare  to  substitute.  My  student  shall  owe  nothing 
of  his  text  to  any  but  the  editors  of  the  Folio,  John  Heminge 
and  Henrie  Condell. 

I  desire  to  take  him  with  me.  I  intend  a  continuous,  but 
ever-varying,  while  one-ended  lesson.  We  shall  follow  the  play 
step  by  step,  avoiding  almost  nothing  that  suggests  difficulty, 
and  noting  everything  that  seems  to  throw  light  on  the  char- 
acter of  a  person  of  the  drama.  The  pointing  I  consider  a 
matter  to  be  dealt  with  as  any  one  pleases — for  the  sake  of 
sense,  of  more  sense,  of  better  sense,  as  much  as  if  the  text 
were  a  Greek  manuscript  without  any  division  of  words.  This 
position  I  need  not  argue  with  anyone  who  has  given  but  a 
cursory  glance  to  the  original  page,  or  knows  anything  of 
printers'  pointing.  I  hold  hard  by  the  word,  for  that  is,  or 
may  be,  grain  :  the  pointing  as  we  have  it  is  merest  chaff,  and 
more  likely  to  be  wrong  than  right.  Here  also,  however,  I 
change  nothing  in  the  text,  only  suggest  in  the  notes.  Nor 
do  I  remark  on  any  of  the  pointing  where  all  that  is  required 
is  the  attention  of  the  student. 

Doubtless  many  will  consider  not  a  few  of  the  notes  un- 


PREFACE  xiii 

necessary.  But  what  may  be  unnecessary  to  one,  may  be 
welcome  to  another,  and  it  is  impossible  to  tell  what  a  student 
may  or  may  not  know.  At  the  same  time  those  form  a  large 
class  who  imagine  they  know  a  thing  when  they  do  not 
understand  it  enough  to  see  there  is  a  difficulty  in  it :  to  such, 
an  attempt  at  explanation  must  of  course  seem  foolish. 

A  number  in  the  margin  refers  to  a  passage  of  the  play  or 
in  the  notes,  and  is  the  number  of  the  page  where  the  passage 
is  to  be  found.  If  the  student  finds,  for  instance,  against  a 
certain  line  upon  page  8,  the  number  12,  and  turns  to  page  12, 
he  will  there  find  the  number  8  against  a  certain  line  :  the 
two  lines  or  passages  are  to  be  compared,  and  will  be  found 
in  some  way  parallel,  or  mutually  explanatory. 

Wherever  I  refer  to  the  Quarto,  I  intend  the  2nd  Quarto 
— that  is  Shakspere's  own  authorized  edition,  published  in  his 
life-time.  Where  occasionally  I  refer  to  the  surreptitious 
edition,  the  mere  inchoation  of  the  drama,  I  call  it,  as  it  is,  the 
\st  Quarto. 

Any  word  or  phrase  or  stage-direction  in  the  2nd  Quarto 
differing  from  that  in  the  Folio,  is  placed  on  the  margin  in 
a  line  with  the  other :  choice  between  them  I  generally  leave 
to  my  student.  Omissions  are  mainly  given  as  footnotes. 
Each  edition  docs  something  to  correct  the  errors  of  the 
other. 

I  beg  my  companion  on  this  journey  to  let  Hamlet  reveal 
himself  in  the  play,  to  observe  him  as  he  assumes  individu- 
ality by  the  concretion  of  characteristics.  I  warn  him  that 
any  popular  notion  concerning  him  which  he  may  bring  with 
him,  will  be  only  obstructive  to  a  perception  of  the  true  idea 
of  the  grandest  of  all  Shakspere's  presentations. 

It  will  amuse  this  and  that  man  to  remark  how  often  I 
speak  of  Hamlet  as  if  he  were  a  real  man  and  not  the  inven- 


xiv  PREFACE 

tion  of  Shakspcre — for  indeed  the  Hamlet  of  the  old  story  is 
no  more  that  of  Shakspere  than  a  lump  of  coal  is  a  diamond  ; 
but  I  imagine,  if  he  tried  the  thing  himself,  he  would  find  it 
hardly  possible  to  avoid  so  speaking,  and  at  the  same  time 
say  what  he  had  to  say. 

I  give  hearty  thanks  to  the  press-reader,  a  gentleman 
whose  name  I  do  not  know,  not  only  for  keen  watchfulness 
over  the  printing-difficulties  of  the  book,  but  for  saving  me 
from  several  blunders  in  derivation. 

Bordighera  :  December,  1884. 


THE    TRAGEDIE 


HAMLET 


PRINCE     OF     DENMARKE. 


THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 


Actus    Primus. 

Enter  Barnardo  and  Francisco  two  Centinels  '. 

Barnardo.  Who's  there  ? 

Fran?  Nay  answer  me  :  Stand  and  vnfold  your 

selfe. 
Bar.  Long  Hue  the  King.3 
Fran.  Barnai'do  ? 
Bar.  He. 
Fran.  You    come    most   carefully   vpon    your 

houre. 
Bar.  'Tis  now  strook  twelue,  get  thee  to  bed 

Francisco. 
Fran.  For  this    releefe    much    thankes  :      'Tis 
42  bitter  cold, 

And  I  am  sicke  at  heart.4 

Barn.  Haue  you  had  quiet  Guard  ?  5 

Fran.  Not  a  Mouse  stirring. 

Barn.  Well,  goodnight.    If  you  do  meet  Horatio 

and 
Marcellus,  the  Riuals 6  of  my  Watch,   bid    them 

make  hast. 

Enter  Horatio  and  Marcellus. 
Fran.  I  thinke  I  heare  them.     Stand  :  who's  stand  ho,  who 

is  there  ? 

there  ? 
Hor.  Friends  to  this  ground. 
Mar.  And  Leige-men  to  the  Dane. 
Fran.  Giue  you  good  night. 
Mar.  O  farwel  honest  Soldier,  who  hath  relieu'd  souidiers, 

you  ? 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


Notes. 


-meeting.     Almost  dark. 


— on  the  post,  and  with  the  right  of  challenge. 


3  The  watchword. 


4  The  key-note  to  the  play— as  in  Macbeth'.  (  Fair  is  foul  and  foul  is 
fair.'     The  whole  nation  is  troubled  by  late  events  at  court. 

5  —thinking  of  the  apparition. 


Companions 


4  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Fra.  Barnardo  ha's  my  place  :  giue  you  good-  hath 
night.  Exit  Fran. 

Mar.  Holla  Barnardo. 

Bar.  Say,  what  is  Horatio  there  ? 

Hor.  A  peece  of  him. 

Bar.  Welcome   Horatio,  welcome  good  Mar- 
cellus. 

Mar.  What,  ha's  this  thing  appear'd  againe  to  iiora.x 
night. 

Bar.  I  haue  seene  nothing. 

Mar.  Horatio  saies,  'tis  but  our  Fantasie, 
And  will  not  let  beleefe  take  hold  of  him 
Touching  this  dreaded  sight,  twice  seene  of  vs, 
Therefore  I  haue  intreated  him  along 
With  vs,  to  watch  the  minutes  of  this  Night, 
That  if  againe  this  Apparition  come, 
6  He  may  approue  our  eyes,  and  speake  to  it.2 

Hor.  Tush,  tush,  'twill  not  appeare. 

Bar.  Sit  downe  a-while, 
And  let  vs  once  againe  assaile  your  eares, 
That  are  so  fortified  against  our  Story, 
What  we  two  Nights  haue  seene.  have  two  nights 

seen. 

Hor.  Well,  sit  we  downe, 
And  let  vs  heare  Barnardo  speake  of  this. 

Barn.  Last  night  of  all, 
When  yond  same  Starre  that's  Westward  from  the 

Pole 
Had  made  his  course  t'illume  that  part  of  Heauen 
Where  now  it  burnes,  Marcellns  and  my  selfe, 
The  Bell  then  beating  one.3 

.       _ ,  Enter  Ghost 

Mar.  Peace,  breake  thee  of :      Enter  the  Ghost. 
Looke  where  it  comes  againe. 

Barn.  In  the  same  figure,  like  the  King  that's 
dead. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


1  Better,  I  think;  for  the  tone  is  scoffing,  and  Horatio  is  the  incredul- 
ous one  who  has  not  seen  it. 


2  — being  a  scholar,  and  able  to  address  it  as  an  apparition  ought  to 
be  addressed— Marcellus  thinking,  perhaps,  with  others,  that  a  ghost 
required  Latin. 


\st  Q.  'towling  one. 


6  THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

4         Mar.  Thou    art    a    Scholler  ;    speake    to    it 

Horatio. 
Bam.  Lookes  it  not  like  the  King  ?     Marke  it  Lookeaanot 

Horatio, 
Hora.  Most  like  :    It   harrovves    me  with   fear  hon-owes1 

and  wonder. 
Bam.  It  would  be  spoke  too.2 
Mar.  Question  it  Horatio.  Speake  to  fc 

^  Horatio 

Hor.  What  art  thou  that  vsurp'st  this  time  of 
night,3 
Together  with  that  Faire  and  Warlike  forme  4 
In  which  the  Maiesty  of  buried  Denmarke 
Did  sometimes  5  march  :  By  Heauen  I  charge  thee 
speake. 

Mar.  It  is  offended.0 

Barn.  See,  it  stalkes  away. 

Hor.  Stay :    speake  ;    speake :  I   Charge  thee, 

speake.  Exit  the  Ghost.  Exit  Ghost. 

Mar.  'Tis  gone,  and  will  not  answer. 

Barn.  How   now  Horatio^     You  tremble  and 
look  pale : 
Is  not  this  something  more  then  Fantasie  ? 
What  thinke  you  on't  ? 

Hor.  Before  my  God,  I  might  not  this  beleeue 
Without  the  sensible  and  true  auouch 
Of  mine  owne  eyes. 

Mar.  Is  it  not  like  the  King  ? 

Hor.  As  thou  art  to  thy  selfe, 
Such  was  the  very  Armour  he  had  on, 
When  th'Ambitious  Norwey  combatted  :  when  he  the 

r»       /•  >  j  i  i  i  ambitious 

bo  trown  d  he  once,  when  in  an  angry  pane 

He  smot  the  sledded  Pollax  on  the  Ice.8  sieaded7 
'Tis  strange. 

274         Mar.  Thus  twice  before,  and  iust  at  this  dead  and  jump  at 

this 

houre, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


1st  Q.  '  horrors  mee  ' 

A  ghost  could  not  speak,  it  was  believed,  until  it  was  spoken  to. 


3  It  was  intruding  upon  the  realm  of  the  embodied. 

4  None  of  them  took  it  as  certainly  the  late  king  :  it  was  only  clear 
to  them  that  it  was  like  him.     Hence  they  say,  '  usurp'st  the  forme.' 


formerly 

1  — at  the  word  usurp st. 


7  Also  ist  Q. 

8  The  usual  interpretation  is  '  the  sledged  Poles  ' ;  but  not  to  mention 
that  in  a  parley  such  action  would  have  been  treacherous,  there  is  another 
far  more  picturesque,  and  more  befitting  the  angry  parte,  at  the  same  time 
more  characteristic  and  forcible  :  the  king  in  his  anger  smote  his  loaded 
pole-axe  on  the  ice.  There  is  some  uncertainty  about  the  word  sledded 
or  steaded  (which  latter  suggests  lead),  but  we  have  the  word  sledge  and 
sledge-hammer,  the  smith's  heaviest,  and  the  phrase,  '  a  sledging  blow.' 
The  quarrel  on  the  occasion  referred  to  rather  seems  with  the  Norwegians 
(See  Schmidt's  Shakespeare-Lexicon :  Sledded.)  than  with  the  Poles;  and 
there  would  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  latter  interpretation  being  the  right  one, 
were  it  not  that  the  Polacke,  for  the  Pole,  or  nation  of  the  Poles,  does 
occur  in  the  play.  That  is,  however,  no  reason  why  the  Dane  should  not 
have  carried  a  pole-axe,  or  caught  one  from  the  hand  of  an  attendant. 
In  both  our  authorities,  and  in  the  ist  Q.  also,  the.  word  is  pollax — as 
in  Chaucer's  Knighfs  Tale :  '  No  maner  schot,  ne  pollax,  ne  schort 
knyf,' — in  the  Folio  alone  with  a  capital ;  whereas  not  once  in  the  play  is 
the  similar  word  that  stands  for  the  Poles  used  in  the  plural.  In  the 
2nd  Quarto  there  is  Pollacke  three  times,  Pollack  once,  Pole  once  ;  in 
the  i st  Quarto,  Polacke  twice  ;  in  the  Folio,  Poleak  twice,  Polake  once. 
The  Poet  seems  to  have  avoided  the  plural  form. 


8  THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

With    Martiall    stalke,1    hath    he    gone    by    our 
Watch. 
Hor.  In  what  particular  thought  to   work,    I 
know  not : 
But  in  the  grosse  and  scope  of  my  Opinion,  mine 

This  boades  some  strange  erruption  to  our  State. 
Mar.  Good  now  sit  downe,  and  tell  me  he  that 
knowes 
1 6  Why  this  same  strict  and  most  obseruant  Watch,2 
So  nightly  toyles  the  subject  of  the  Land, 
And  why  such  dayly  Cast  of  Brazon  Cannon  And  with  such 

*  J    *  dayly  cost 

And  Forraigne  Mart  for  Implements  of  warre  : 
Why  such  impresse  of  Ship-wrights,  whose  sore 

Taske 
Do's  not  diuide  the  Sunday  from  the  weeke, 
What  might  be  toward,  that  this  sweaty  hast 3 
Doth  make  the    Night  ioynt-Labourer   with   the 

day : 
Who  is't  that  can  informe  me  ? 

Hor.  That  can  I, 
At  least  the  whisper  goes  so  :  Our  last  King, 
Whose  Image  euen  but  now  appear'd  to  vs, 
Was  (as  you  know)  by  Fortinbras  of  Norway, 
(Thereto  prick'd  on  by  a  most  emulate  Pride) 4 
Dar'd    to  the    Combate.     In  which,  our   Valiant 

Hamlet, 
(For  so  this  side  of  our  knowne  world  esteem'd 

him) 5 
6   Did  slay  this  Fortinbras :  who  by  a  Seal'd  Compact, 

Well  ratified  by  Law,  and  Heraldrie,  heraidy 

Did  forfeite  (with'  his  life)  all  those  his  Lands  these 

Which  he  stood  seiz'd  on,6  to  the  Conqueror  :  seaz'dof, 

Against  the  which,  a  Moity 7  competent 
Was  gaged  by  our  King  :  which  had  return'd  had  retume 

To  the  Inheritance  of  Fortinbras, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 

1  ist  Q.<  Marshall  stalke ' 


2  Here  is  set  up  a  frame  of  external  relations,  to  inclose  with  fitting 
contrast,  harmony,  and  suggestion,  the  coming  show  of  things.     273 


1st  Q.  *  sweaty  march 


4  Pride  that  leads  to  emulate  :  the  ambition  to  excel— not  oneself,  but 
another. 


the  whole  western  hemisphere 


6  stood  possessed  of 

7  Used  by  Shakspere  for  apart. 


io  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Had  he  bin  Vanquisher,  as  by  the  same  Cou'nant     comSt"6 

And  carriage  of  the  Article  designe,1  desseigne, 

His  fell  to  Hamlet.     Now  sir,  young  Fortinbras, 

Of  vnimproued  2  Mettle,  hot  and  full, 

Hath  in  the  skirts  of  Norway,  heere  and  there, 

Shark'd  3  vp  a  List  of  Landlesse  Resolutes,  of  laweiesse 

For  Foode  and  Diet,  to  some  Enterprize 

That  hath  a  stomacke  in't 4 :  which  is  no  other 

(And  it  doth  well  appeare  vnto  our  State)  As  it 

But  to  recouer  of  vs  by  strong  hand 

And  termes  Compulsatiue,  those  foresaid  Lands       compulsory, 

So  by  his  Father  lost :  and  this  (I  take  it) 

Is  the  maine  Motiue  of  our  Preparations, 

The  Sourse  of  this  our   Watch,    and   the  cheefe 

head 

Of  this  post-hast,  and  Romage  5  in  the  Land. 

* 

Enter  Ghost  againe. 

But  soft,  behold  :  Loe,  where  it  comes  againe  : 


*  Here  i?i  the  Quarto : — 

Bar.  I  thinke  it  be  no  other,  but  enso  ; 
Well  may  it  sort l  that  this  portentous  figure 
Comes  armed  through  our  watch  so  like  the  King 
That  was  and  is  the  question  of  these  warres. 

Hora.  A  moth  it  is  to  trouble  the  mindes  eye  : 
In  the  most  high  and  palmy  state  of  Rome, 
A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Iuliits  fell 
The  graues  stood  tennatlesse,  and  the  sheeted  dead 
Did  squeake  and  gibber  in  the  Roman  streets  2 
As  starres  with  traines  of  fier,  and  dewes  of  blood 
Disasters  in  the  sunne  ;  and  the  moist  starre, 
Vpon  whose  influence  Neptunes  Empier  stands 
Was  sicke  almost  to  doomesday  with  eclipse. 
And  euen  the  like  precurse  of  feare  euents 
As  harbindgers  preceading  still  the  fates 
And  prologue  to  the  Omen  comming  on 
Haue  heauen  and  earth  together  demonstrated 
Vnto  our  Climatures  and  countrymen.3 

Enter  Ghost. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


1  French  designi. 

2  not  proved  or  tried.  Improvement,  as  we  use  the  word,  is  the 
result  of  proof  or  trial :  upon-proof-ment. 

3  Is  shared  related  to  the  German  scharren  ?  Zusammen  scharren 
— to  scrape  together.  The  Anglo-Saxon  searwian  is  to  prepare,  entrap, 
take. 

4  Some  enterprise  of  acquisition;  one  for  the  sake  of  getting  something. 


5  In  Scotch,  remish— the  noise  of  confused  and  varied  movements  ;  a 
row  ;  a  rampage. — Associated  with  French  remuage? 


suit :  so  used  in  Scotland  still,  I  think. 


2  Julius  Ctesar,  act  i.  sc.  3,  and  act  ii.  sc.  2. 

3  The  only  suggestion  I  dare  make  for  the  rectifying  of  the  confusion  of  this  speech  is,  that, 
if  the  eleventh  line  were  inserted  between  the  fifth  and  sixth,  there  would  be  sense,  and  very 
nearly  grammar. 

and  the  sheeted  dead 
Did  squeake  and  gibber  in  the  Roman  streets, 
As  harbindgers  preceading  still  the  fates  ; 
As  starres  with  traines  of  fier,  and  dewes  of  blood 
(Here  understand  precede) 

Disasters  in  the  sunne ; 
The  tenth  will  close  with  the  twelfth  line  well  enough. 

But  no  one,  any  more  than  myself,  will  be  satisfied  with  the  suggestion.  The  probability 
is,  of  course,  that  a  line  has  dropped  out  between  the  fifth  and  sixth.  Anything  like  this  would 
restore  the  connection  : 

The  labouring  heavens  themselves  teemed  dire  portent 
As  starres  &c. 


your 
The  cocke 


strike  it  with 


12  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

lie  crosse  it,  though  it  blast  me.1     Stay  Illusion  :2    it* spreads 

his  armes. 

If  thou  hast  any  sound,  or  vse  of  Voyce,3 

Spcake  to  me.     If  there  be  any  good  thing  to  be 

done, 
That  may  to  thee  do  ease,  and  grace  to  me  ;  speak 

to  me. 
If  thou  art  priuy  to  thy  Countries  Fate 
(Which    happily    foreknowing    may    auoyd)    Oh 

speake. 
Or,  if  thou  hast  vp-hoorded  in  thy  life 
Extorted  Treasure  in  the  wombe  of  Earth, 
(For   which,  they   say,    you    Spirits  oft  walke  in 

death) 
Speake  of  it.    Stay,  and  speake.    Stop  it  Marcellns. 

Mar. .  Shall  I  strike  at  it  with  my  Partizan  ? 

Hor.  Do,  if  it  will  not  stand. 

Barn.  'Tis  heere. 

Hor.  'Tis  heere. 

Mar.  'Tis  gone.  Exit  Ghost? 

We  do  it  wrong,  being  so  Maiesticall 6 
To  offer  it  the  shew  of  Violence, 
For  it  is  as  the  Ayre,  invulnerable, 
And  our  vaine  blowes,  malicious  Mockery. 

Bam.  It  was  about  to  speake,  when  the  Cocke 
crew. 

Hor.  And  then  it  started,  like  a  guilty  thing 
Vpon  a  fearfull  Summons.     I  haue  heard, 
The  Cocke  that  is  the  Trumpet  to  the  day,  to  the  mome, 

Doth  with  his  lofty  and  shrill-sounding  Throate 7 
Awake  the  God  of  Day  :  and  at  his  warning, 
Whether  in  Sea,  or  Fire,  in  Earth,  or  Ayre, 
Th'extrauagant,8  and  erring  9  Spirit,  hyes 
To  his  Confine.     And  of  the  truth  heerein, 
This  present  Obiect  made  probation.10 

Mar.  It  faded  on  the  crowing  of  the  Cocke.11 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  13 

1  There  are  various  tales  of  the  blasting  power  of  evil  ghosts. 

2  Plain  doubt,  and  strong. 

3  i  sound  of  voice,  or  use  of  voice  : '  physical  or  mental   faculty   of 
speech. 

4  I  judge  this  It  a  mistake  for  H.,  standing  for  Horatio  :  he  would 
stop  it. 


5  Not  in  Q. 

6  *  As  we  cannot  hurt  it,  our  blows  are  a  mockery  ;  and  it  is  wrong  to 
mock  anything  so  majestic  : '  For  belongs  to  shew ;  '  We  do  it  wrong, 
being  so  majestical,  to  offer  it  what  is  but  a  show  of  violence,  for  it  is,  &c.' 


7  1st  Q.  'his  earely  and  shrill  crowing  throate,' 

8  straying  beyond  bounds 

9  wandering 

10  '  gave  proof.' 

11  This  line  said  thoughtfully — as  the  text  of  the  observation  following 
it.  From  the  eerie  discomfort  of  their  position,  Marcellus  takes  refuge 
in  the  thought  of  the  Saviour's  birth  into  the  haunted  world,  bringing 
sweet  law,  restraint,  and  health. 


3o 


14  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Some  sayes,  that  cuer  'gainst  that  Season  comes  say 
Wherein  our  Sauiours  Birth  is  celebrated, 

The  Bird  of  Dawning  singeth  all  night  long  :  TW*  bird 

And  then  (they  say)  no  Spirit  can  walke  abroad,  spirit  dare 

v  y  J  '  '  sturre 

The  nights  are  wholsome,  then  no  Planets  strike, 

No    Faiery    talkes,    nor    Witch    hath    power    to  fairy  takes/ 

Charme  : 
So  hallow'd,  and  so  gracious  is  the  time.  is  that  time. 

Hor.  So  haue  I  heard,  and  do  in  part  beleeue 
it. 
But  looke,  the  Morne  in  Russet  mantle  clad, 
Walkes  o're  the  dew  of  yon  high  Easterne  Hill,        Eastward2 
Breake  we  our  Watch  vp,  and  by  my  aduice  advise 

Let  vs  impart  what  we  haue  seene  to  night 
Vnto  yong  Hamlet.     For  vpon  my  life, 
This  Spirit  dumbe  to  vs,  will  speake  to  him  : 
Do  you  consent  we  shall  acquaint  him  with  it, 
As  needfull  in  our  Loues,  fitting  our  Duty  ? 

Mar.  Let  do't  I  pray,  and  I  this  morning  know 
Where  we  shall  finde  him  most  conueniently.  convenient. 

Exeunt. 

SCENA      SECUNDA*  Florhh.  EnU> 

Claudius, 
King  of 

Enter  Claudius  King  of  Denmarke,  Gertrude  the  D**»**rke. 

0      J  '  Gertradthe 

Queene,  Hamlet,  Polonius,  Laertes,  and  his  Sister  %£?£%£. 
Ophelia,  Lords  Attendant*  sl£/B£s, 

I/amlet  Cum 
A  lift. 

King.  Though  yet  of  Hamlet  our  deere  Brothers  ciaud. 
death 
The  memory  be  greene  :  and  that  it  vs  befitted 
To   beare    our   hearts    in    greefe,   and    our  whole 

Kingdome 
To  be  contracted  in  one  brow  of  woe  : 
Yet  so  farre  hath  Discretion  fought  with  Nature, 
That  we  with  wisest  sorrow  thinke  on  him, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  15 


1  Does  it  mean — carries  off  any  child,  leaving  a  changeling  ?  or  does 
it  mean— affect  with  evil,  as  a  disease  might  infect  or  take  ? 


1st  Q.  '  hie  mountaine  top, 


3  In  neither  Q. 


4  The  first  court  after  the  marriage. 


16  THE    TRAGED1E    OF  HAMLET, 

Together  with  remembrance  of  our  selues. 
Therefore  our  sometimes  Sister,  now  our  Queen, 
Th'Imperiall  Ioyntresse  of  this  warlike  State, 
Haue  we,  as  'twere,  with  a  defeated  ioy, 
With  one  Auspicious,  and  one  Dropping  eye, 
With  mirth  in  Funerall,  and  with  Dirge  in  Marriage, 
In  equall  Scale  weighing  Delight  and  Dole  ! 
Taken  to  Wife  ;  nor  haue  we  heerein  barr'd2 
Your  better  Wisedomes,  which  haue  freely  gone 
With  this  affaire  along,  for  all  our  Thankes. 
Now  followes,  that  you  know  young  Fortinbras,3 
Holding  a  weake  supposall  of  our  worth  ; 
Or  thinking  by  our  late  deere  Brothers  death, 
Our  State  to  be  disioynt,  and  out  of  Frame, 
Colleagued  with  the  dreame  of  his  Aduantage  ; 4 
He  hath  not  fayl'd  to  pester  vs  with  Message, 
Importing  the  surrender  of  those  Lands 
Lost  by  his  Father  :  with  all  Bonds  of  Law 
To  our  most  valiant  Brother.     So  much  for  him. 

Enter  Voltemand  and  Cornelius? 

Now  for  our  selfe,  and  for  this  time  of  meeting 

Thus  much  the  businesse  is.     We  haue  heere  writ 

To  Norway,  Vncle  of  young  Fortinbras, 

Who  Impotent  and  Bedrid,  scarsely  heares 

Of  this  his  Nephewes  purpose,  to  suppresse 

His  further  gate6  heerein.     In  that  the  Leuies, 

The  Lists,  and  full  proportions  are  all  made 

Out  of  his  subiect :  and  we  heere  dispatch 

You  good  Cornelius,  and  you  Voltemand, 

For  bearing  of  this  greeting  to  old  Norway, 

Giuing  to  you  no  further  personall  power 

To  businesse  with  the  King,  more  then  the  scope 

Of  these  dilated  Articles  allow  : 7 

Farewell  and  let  your  hast  commend  your  duty.9 


to  this 


an  auspitiuus 
and  a 


this  dreame 


bands 


bearers 


delated* 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


T7 


1  weighing  out  an  equal  quantity  of  each 

2  Like  crossed. 


1   Now  follows — that  {which)  you  know — young  Fortinbras  : — ' 


4  Co lleagued  agrees  with  supposall.     The  preceding  two  lines  may  be 
regarded  as  somewhat  parenthetical.  Dream  of  advantage — hope  of  gain. 


5  Not  in  Q. 


6  going  J  advance. 

Note  in  Norway  als©,  as  well  as  in  Denmark,  the  succession  of  the 


brother. 


7  {giving  them  papers) 

8  Which  of  these  is  right,  I  cannot  tell.  Dilated  means  expanded,  and 
would  refer  to  the  scope;  delated  means  committed— to  them,  to  limit 
them. 

9  idea  of  duty 

C 


1 8  THE    TR AGE DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Volt.  In  that,  and  all  things,  will  wc  shew  our 

duty. 
King.  We  doubt  it  nothing,  heartily  farewell. 
74  l  Exit  Voltemand  and  Cornelius. 

And  now  Laertes,  what's  the  newes  with  you  ? 
You  told  vs  of  some  suite.     What  is't  Laertes  ? 
You  cannot  speake  of  Reason  to  the  Dane, 
And  loose  your  voyce.     What  would'st  thou  beg 

Laertes, 
That  shall  not  be  my  Offer,  not  thy  Asking  ? 2 
The  Head  is  not  more  Natiue  to  the  Heart, 
The  Hand  more  Instrumentall  to  the  Mouth, 
Then  is  the  Throne  of  Denmarke  to  thy  Father.3 
What  would'st  thou  haue  Laertes  ? 

Laer.  Dread  my  Lord,  My  dread 

Your  leaue  and  fauour  to  returne  to  France, 
From  whence,  though  willingly  I  came  to  Den- 
marke 
To  shew  my  duty  in  your  Coronation, 
Yet  now  I  must  confesse,  that  duty  done, 
22   My   thoughts    and   wishes    bend    againe    towards  toward 
France,4 
And  bow  them  to  your  gracious  leaue  and  pardon. 
King.  Haue  you  your  Fathers  leaue  ? 

What  sayes  Pollonins  ? 
* 
Pol.  He  hath  my  Lord  : 

I  do  beseech  you  giue  him  leaue  to  go. 

King.  Take  thy  faire  houre  Laertes,  time  be  thine, 

And  thy  best  graces  spend  it  at  thy  will  : 

But  now  my  Cosin  Hamlet,  and  my  Sonne  ? 


*  In  the  Quarto : — 

Polo.  Hath  x  my  Lord  wroung  from  me  my  slowe  leaue 
By  laboursome  petition,  and  at  last 
Vpon  his  will  I  seald  my  hard  consent,'- 
I  doe  beseech  you  giue  him  leaue  to  goe. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  i9 


Not  in  Q. 


2  '  Before  they  call,  I  will  answer ;  and  while  they  are  yet  speaking, 
I  will  hear.' — Isaiah,  lxv.  24. 


The  villain  king  courts  his  courtiers. 


4  He  had  been  educated  there.  Compare  23.  But  it  would  seem 
rather  to  the  court  than  the  university  he  desired  to  return.  See  his 
father's  instructions,  38 


H'ath—z.  contraction  for  He  hath. 

A  play  upon  the  act  of  sealing  a  will  with  wax. 

C   2 


2o  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 


-sonne. 


Ham.  A  little  more  then  kin,  and  lesse  then 

kinde.1 
King.  How  is  it  that  the  Clouds  still  hang  on 

you  ? 
Ham.  Not  so  my  Lord,  I  am  too  much  i'th'Sun.2  ?°  ™uch  my 

J  '  in  the  sonn 

Queen.  Good  Hamlet  cast  thy   nightly  colour  nighted 
off,4 
And  let  thine  eye  looke  like  a  Friend  on  Denmarke. 
Do  not  for  euer  with  thy  veyled5  lids  vailed 

Seeke  for  thy  Noble  Father  in  the  dust  ; 
Thou  know'st  'tis  common,  all  that  Hues  must  dye, 
Passing  through  Nature,  to  Eternity. 

Ham.  I  Madam,  it  is  common.6 

Queen.  If  it  be  ; 
Why  seemes  it  so  particular  with  thee. 

Ham.  Seemes  Madam  ?  Nay,  it  is  :  I  know  not 
Seemes  : 7 
Tis  not  alone  my  Inky  Cloake  (good  Mother) 
Nor  Customary  suites  of  solemne  Blacke, 
Nor  windy  suspiration  of  forc'd  breath, 
No,  nor  the  fruitfull  Riuer  in  the  Eye, 
Nor  the  deiected  hauiour  of  the  Visage, 
Together  with  all  Formes,  Moods,  shewes  ofGriefe,  moodes,  chapes 

of 

That  can  denote  me  truly.     These  indeed  Seeme,9    deuote 
For  they  are  actions  that  a  man  might 10  play : 
But  I  haue  that  Within,  which  passeth  show  ;  passes 

These,  but  the  Trappings,  and  the  Suites  of  woe. 

King.  'Tis  sweet  and  commendable 
In  your  Nature  Hamlet, 

To  giue  these  mourning  duties  to  your  Father  : ll 
But  you  must  know,  your  Father  lost  a  Father, 
That  Father  lost,  lost  his,  and  the  Suruiuer  bound 
In  filia.ll  Obligation,  for  some  terme 
To  do  obsequious 12  Sorrow.     But  to  perseuer 
In  obstinate  Condolement,  is  a  course 


cloake  coold 
mother ' 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  21 


1  An  aside.  Hamlet's  first  utterance  is  of  dislike  to  his  uncle.  He  is 
more  than  ki?i  through  his  unwelcome  marriage — less  than  kind  by  the 
difference  in  their  natures.  To  be  kind  is  to  behave  as  one  kinned  or 
related.  But  the  word  here  is  the  noun,  and  means  nature,  or  sort  by  birth. 

2  A  word-play  may  be  here  intended  between  sun  and  son :  a  little 
more  than  kin — too  much  z'  th'  Son.     So  George  Herbert  : 

For  when  he  sees  my  ways,  I  die  ; 
But  I  have  got  his  Sou,  and  he  hath  none; 

and  Dr.  Donne  : 

at  my  death  thy  Son 
Shall  shine,  as  he  shines  now  and  heretofore. 

3  '  Wintred  garments ' — A s  You  Like  It,  iii.  2. 

4  He  is  the  only  one  who  has  not  for  the  wedding  put  off  his  mourning. 

5  lowered,  or  cast  down  :  Fr.  avaler,  to  lower. 

6  '  Plainly  you  treat  it  as  a  common  matter — a  thing  of  no  significance  ! ' 
/  is  constantly  used  for  ay,  yes. 


7  He  pounces  on  the  word  seems. 

8  Not  unfrequently  the  type  would  appear  to  have  been  set  up  from 
dictation. 


9  They  are  things  of  the  outside,  and  must  seem,  for  they  are 
capable  of  being  imitated  ;  they  are  the  natural  shows  of  grief.  But  he 
has  that  in  him  which  cannot  show  or  seem,  because  nothing  can  represent 
it.  These  are  '  the  Trappings  and  the  Suites  of  woe  ; '  they  fitly  represent 
woe,  but  they  cannot  shadow  forth  that  which  is  within  him — a  some- 
thing different  from  woe,  far  beyond  it  and  worse,  passing  all  reach  of 
embodiment  and  manifestation.  What  this  something  is,  comes  out  the 
moment  he  is  left  by  himself. 

10  The  emphasis  is  on  might. 

11  Both  his  uncle  and  his  mother  decline  to  understand  him.  They 
will  have  it  he  mourns  the  death  of  his  father,  though  they  must  at  least 
suspect  another  cause  for  his  grief.  Note  the  intellectual  mastery  of  the 
hypocrite — which  accounts  for  his  success. 

12  belonging  to  obsequies 


22  THE    TR  AG  ED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Of  impious  stubbornnesse.     Tis  vnmanly  greefe, 
It  shewes  a  will  most  incorrect  to  Heauen, 
A  Heart  vnfbrtified,  a  Minde  impatient,  orminde 

An  Vnderstanding  simple,  and  vnschool'd  : 
For,  what  we  know  must  be,  and  is  as  common 
As  any  the  most  vulgar  thing  to  sence, 
Why  should  we  in  our  peeuish  Opposition 
Take  it  to  heart  ?     Fye,  'tis  a  fault  to  Heauen, 
A  fault  against  the  Dead,  a  fault  to  Nature, 
To  Reason  most  absurd,  whose  common  Theame 
Is  death  of  Fathers,  and  who  still  hath  cried, 
From  the  first  Coarse,1  till  he  that  dyed  to  day,         course 
This  must  be  so.     We  pray  you  throw  to  earth 
This  vnpreuayling  woe,  and  thinke  of  vs 
As  of  a  Father  ;  For  let  the  world  take  note, 
You  are  the  most  immediate  to  our  Throne,2 
And  with  no  lesse  Nobility  of  Loue, 
Then  that  which  deerest  Father  beares  his  Sonne, 
Do  I  impart  towards  you.     For  your  intent  toward 

1 8  In  going  backe  to  Schoole  in  Wittenberg,3 

It  is  most  retrograde  to  our  desire  :  retrogard 

And  we  beseech  you,  bend  you  to  remaine 
Heere  in  the  cheere  and  comfort  of  our  eye, 
Our  cheefest  Courtier  Cosin,  and  our  Sonne. 

Qu.  Let   not   thy    Mother    lose    her    Prayers  loose 
Hamlet : 
I  prythee  stay  with  vs,  go  not  to  Wittenberg.  prey  thee 

Ham.  I  shall  in  all  my  best 
Obey  you  Madam.4 

King.  Why  'tis  a  louing,  and  a  faire  Reply, 
Be  as  our  selfe  in  Denmarke.     Madam  come, 
This  gentle  and  vnforc'd  accord  of  Hamlet 5 
Sits  smiling  to  my  heart  ;  in  grace  whereof, 
No  iocond  health  that  Denmarke  drinkes  to  day, 
44  But  the  great  Cannon  to  the  Clowds  shall  tell, 


PRINCE    OP    DENMARKE.  23 


1  Corpse 


2  —seeking  to  propitiate  him  with  the  hope  that  his  succession  had 
been  but  postponed  by  his  uncle's  election. 


3  Note  that  Hamlet  was  educated  in  Germany — at  Wittenberg,  the 
university  where  in  1 508  Luther  was  appointed  professor  of  Philosophy. 
Compare  19.  There  was  love  of  study  as  well  as  disgust  with  home  in  his 
desire  to  return  to  Schoole  :  this  from  what  we  know  of  him  afterwards. 


Emphasis  on  obey.    A  light  on  the  character  of  Hamlet. 


5  He  takes  it,  or  pretends  to  take  it,  for  far  more  than  it  was.     He 
desires  friendly  relations  with  Hamlet. 


24  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

And  the  Kings  Rouce,1  the  Heauens  shall  bruite 
againe, 

Respeaking  earthly  Thunder.     Come  away. 

Exeunt  Fiorith. 
Manet  Hamlet.  but  HamUt. 

2  Ham.  Oh  that  this  too  too  solid  Flesh,  would  sallied  flesh3 
melt, 
Thaw,  and  resolue  it  selfe  into  a  Dew  : 

125,247,   Qr  j-^gj.  t^g  Euerlasting  had  not  fixt 

260  ° 

121  Ms    His    Cannon   'gainst   Selfe-slaughter.     O   God,  O  seaie  slaughter, 

_  6  God,  God, 

God! 
How  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  vnprofitable  wary 

Seemes  to  me  all  the  vses  of  this  world  ?  seeme 

Fie  on't  ?     Oh  fie,  fie,  'tis  an  vnweeded  Garden  ah  fie, 

That  growes  to  Seed  :  Things  rank,  and  grosse  in 

Nature 
Possesse  it  meerely.     That  it  should  come  to  this  :  meereiy  that  it 

^  should  come 

But  two  months  dead  4 :  Nay,  not  so  much  ;  not  thus 

two, 
So  excellent  a  King,  that  was  to  this 
Hiperion  to  a  Satyre  :  so  louing  to  my  Mother, 
That  he  might  not  beteene  the  windes  of  heauen      beteeme ■ 
Visit  her  face  too  roughly.     Heauen  and  Earth 
Must  I  remember  :  why  she  would  hang  on  him,      should 
As  if  encrease  of  Appetite  had  growne 
By  what  it  fed  on  ;  and  yet  within  a  month  ? 
Let    me    not   thinke    on't  :    Frailty,  thy  name  is 

woman.6 
A  little  Month,  or  ere  those  shooes  were  old, 
With  which  she  followed  my  poore  Fathers  body 
Like  Niobe,  all  teares.     Why  she,  euen  she.7 
(O    Heauen  !    A   beast   that   wants  discourse 8  of  o  God, 

Reason 
Would  haue  mourn'd  longer)  married  with  mine   my 

Vnkle, 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE. 
German  Rausch,  drunkenness.    44,  68 


2  A  soliloquy  is  as  the  drawing  called  a  section  of  a  thing  :  it  shows 
the  inside  of  the  man.  Soliloquy  is  only  rare,  not  unnatural,  and  in  art 
serves  to  reveal  more  of  nature.  In  the  drama  it  is  the  lifting  of  a  veil 
through  which  dialogue  passes.  The  scene  is  for  the  moment  shifted 
into  the  lonely  spiritual  world,  and  here  we  begin  to  know  Hamlet.  Such 
is  his  wretchedness,  both  in  mind  and  circumstance,  that  he  could  well 
wish  to  vanish  from  the  world.  The  suggestion  of  suicide,  however,  he 
dismisses  at  once — with  a  momentary  regret,  it  is  true — but  he  dismisses 
it — as  against  the  will  of  God  to  whom  he  appeals  in  his  misery.  The 
cause  of  his  misery  is  now  made  plain  to  us — his  trouble  that  passes 
show,  deprives  life  of  its  interest,  and  renders  the  world  a  disgust  to  him. 
There  is  no  lamentation  over  his  father's  death,  so  dwelt  upon  by  the 
king ;  for  loving  grief  does  not  crush.  Far  less  could  his  uncle's  sharp 
practice,  in  scheming  for  his  own  election  during  Hamlet's  absence,  have 
wrought  in  a  philosopher  like  him  such  an  effect.  The  one  makes  him 
sorrowful,  the  other  might  well  annoy  him,  but  neither  could  render  him 
unhappy  :  his  misery  lies  at  his  mother's  door ;  it  is  her  conduct  that 
has  put  out  the  light  of  her  son's  life.  She  who  had  been  to  him  the 
type  of  all  excellence,  she  whom  his  father  had  idolized,  has  within  a 
month  of  his  death  married  his  uncle,  and  is  living  in  habitual  incest — 
for  as  such,  a  marriage  of  the  kind  was  then  unanimously  regarded.  To 
Hamlet's  condition  and  behaviour,  his  mother,  her  past  and  her  present, 
is  the  only  and  sufficing  key.  His  very  idea  of  unity  had  been  rent  in 
twain. 

3  1st  Q.  '  too  much  grieu'd  and  sallied  flesh.'  Sallied,  sullied  :  com- 
pare sallets,  67,  103.  I  have  a  strong  suspicion  that  sallied  and  not  solid  is 
the  true  word.     It  comes  nearer  the  depth  of  Hamlet's  mood. 

4  Two  months  at  the  present  moment. 

5  This  is  the  word  all  the  editors  take  :  which  is  right,  I  do  not  know ; 
I  doubt  if  either  is.  The  word  in  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  act  i. 
sc.  1  — 

Belike  for  want  of  rain  ;  which  I  could  well 
Beteem  them  from  the  tempest  of  mine  eyes — 

I  cannot  believe  the  same  word.  The  latter  means  produce  for,  as  from 
the  place  of  origin.  The  word,  in  the  sense  necessary  to  this  passage, 
is  not,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  be  found  anywhere  else.  I  have  no  suggestion 
to  make. 

6  From  his  mother  he  generalizes  to  woman.  After  having  believed 
in  such  a  mother,  it  may  well  be  hard  for  a  man  to  believe  in  any  woman. 

7  Q.  omits  '  euen  she.' 

8  the  going  abroad  among  things. 


26  THE    IMAGED  IE    OF   HAMLET, 

My  Fathers  Brother  :  but  no  more  like  my  Father, 

Then  I  to  Hercules.     Within  a  Moneth  ? 

Ere  yet  the  salt  of  most  vnrighteous  Teares 

Had  left  the  flushing  of  her  gauled  eyes,  in  her 

She  married.     O  most  wicked  speed,  to  post  * 

With  such  dexterity  to  Incestuous  sheets  : 

It  is  not,  nor  it  cannot  come  to  good. 

But  breake  my  heart,  for  I  must  hold  my  tongue.2 

Enter  Horatio,  Barnard,  and  Marcellus.  Marceiius,and 

Bernardo. 

Hor.  Haile  to  your  Lordship.3 

Ham.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  well  : 
Horatio,  or  I  do  forget  my  selfe. 

Hor.  The  same  my  Lord, 
And  your  poore  Seruant  euer. 
134         Ham.  4  Sir  my  good  friend, 
He  change  that  name  with  you  : 5 
And  what  make  you  from  Wittenberg  Horatio  ? G 

Marcellus.1 

Mar.  My  good  Lord. 

Ham.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you :  good  euen 
Sir.8 
But  what  in  faith  make  you  from  Wittemberge  ? 

Hor.  A  truant  disposition,  good  my  Lord.9 

Ham.  I  would  not  haue  your  Enemy  say  so  ; 10  not  heare 
Nor  shall  you  doe  mine  eare  that  violence,11  myeare 

134  To  make  it  truster  of  your  owne  report 

Against  your  selfe,     I  know  you  are  no  Truant : 

But  what  is  your  affaire  in  Elsenour  ? 

Wee'l  teach  you  to  drinke  deepe,  ere  you  depart.12    you  for  to 

drinke  ere 

nor.  my   Lord,    I   came  to  see  your   Fathers 

Funerall. 
Ham.  I   pray  thee  doe  not  mock  me  (fellow  pre  thee 

Student) 
I  thinke  it  was  to  see  my  Mothers  Wedding.  was  to  my 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


27 


1  I  suggest  the  pointing  : 

speed  !     To  post  .  .  .  sheets  ! 


2  Fit  moment  for  the  entrance  of  his  father's  messengers. 


3  They  do  not  seem  to  have  been  intimate  before,  though  we  know 
from  Hamlet's  speech  (134)  that  he  had  had  the  greatest  respect  for 
Horatio.  The  small  degree  of  doubt  in  Hamlet's  recognition  of  his 
friend  is  due  to  the  darkness,  and  the  unexpectedness  of  his  appearance. 


4  1st  Q.  'O  my  good  friend,  I  change,  &c.'  This  would  leave  it 
doubtful  whether  he  wished  to  exchange  servant  ox  friend;  but  '  Sir,  my 
good  friend]  correcting  Horatio,  makes  his  intent  plain. 

5  Emphasis  on  that :  '  I  will  exchange  the  name  of  friend  with  you.' 

6  '  What  are  you  doing  from — out  of,  away  from — Wittenberg  ? ' 

7  In  recognition  :  the  word  belongs  to  Hamlet's  speech. 


8  Point  thus: 
not  know. 


you. — Good  even,  sir.' — to  Bamardo,  whom  he  does 


9  An  ungrammatical  reply.  He  does  not  wish  to  give  the  real,  painful 
answer,  and  so  replies  confusedly,  as  if  he  had  been  asked,  '  What  makes 
you  ? '  instead  of,  ■  What  do  you  make  ? ' 

10  '  — I  should  know  how  to  answer  him.' 

11  Emphasis  on  you. 


vi  Said  with  contempt  for  his  surroundings. 


28  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Hor.  Indeed  my  Lord,  it  followed  hard  vpon. 

Ham.  Thrift,     thrift     Horatio :    the    Funerall 
Bakt-meats 
Did  coldly  furnish  forth  the  Marriage  Tables  ; 
Would  I  had  met  my  dearest  foe  in  heauen,1 
Ere  I  had  euer  seene  that  day  Horatio}  or  ever  i  had 

My  father,  me  thinkes  I  see  my  father. 

Hor.  Oh  where  my  Lord  ?  where  my 

Ham.  In  my  minds  eye  {Horatio) 3 

Hor.  I  saw  him  once  ;  he  was  a  goodly  King,     once,  a  was 

Ham.  He  was  a  man,  take  him  for  all  in  all :       a  was  a  man  • 
I  shall  not  look  vpon  his  like  againe. 

Hor.  My  Lord,  I  thinke  I  saw  him  yesternight. 

Ham.  Saw?  Who?4 

Hor.  My  Lord,  the  King  your  Father. 

Ham.  The  King  my  Father  ?  5 

Hor.  Season 6  your  admiration  for  a  while 
With  an  attent  eare  ;7  till  I  may  deliuer 
Vpon  the  witnesse  of  these  Gentlemen, 
This  maruell  to  you. 

Ham.  For  Heauens  loue  let  me  heare.  God's  love 

Hor.  Two  nights  together,  had  these  Gentlemen 
{Marcellus  and  Barnardo)  on  their  Watch 
In  the  dead  wast  and  middle  of  the  night 8 
Beene  thus  encountred.   A  figure  like  your  Father,9 
Arm'd  at  all  points  exactly,  Cap  a  Pe,]0  £j£etdat 

Appeares  before  them,  and  with  sollemne  march 
Goes  slow  and  stately  :  By  them  thrice  he  walkt,      stately  by 

*  *  '         them ;  thrice 

By  their  opprest  and  feare-surprized  eyes, 

Within  his  Truncheons  length ;  whilst  they  bestil'd  they  distii'd il 

Almost  to  Ielly  with  the  Act  of  feare,12 

Stand  dumbe  and  speake  not  to  him.     This  to  me 

In  dreadfull 13  secrecie  impart  they  did, 

And  I  with  them  the  third  Night  kept  the  Watch, 

Whereas14  they  had  deliuer'd  both  in  time, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  29 


1  Dear  is  not  unfrequently  used  as  an  intensive  ;  but  i  my  dearest  foe ' 
is  not  '  the  man  who  hates  me  most,'  but  '  the  man  whom  most  I  regard 
as  my  foe.' 

2  Note  Hamlet's  trouble :  the  marriage,  not  the  death,  nor  the  sup- 
plantation. 

3  — with  a  little  surprise  at  Horatio's  question. 


4  Said  as  if  he  must  have  misheard.     Astonishment  comes  only  with 
the  next  speech. 


5  1st  Q.  l  Ha,  ha,  the  King  my  father  ke  you.' 

6  Qualify 

7  1st  Q.1  an  attentiue  eare,' 


8  Possibly,  dead  vast,  as  in  \st  Q.  ;  but  waste  as  good,  leaving  also 
room  to  suppose  a  play  in  the  word. 

9  Note  the  careful  uncertainty. 

10  1st  Q.  '  Capapea ' 

11  Either  word  would  do :  the  distilling  off  of  the  animal  spirits 
would  leave  the  man  a  jelly  ;  the  cold  of  fear  would  bestil  them  and  him 
to  a  jelly.  1st  Q.  distilled.  But  I  judge  bestiPd  the  better,  as  the  truer 
to  the  operation  of  fear.     Compare  The  Winter's  Tale,  act  v.  sc.  3  : — 

There's  magic  in  thy  majesty,  which  has 

From  thy  admiring  daughter  took  the  spirits, 
Standing  like  stone  with  thee. 

12  Act  :  present  influence. 

13  a  secrecy  more  than  solemn 
"  < Where,  as' 


3o  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Forme  of  the  thing  ;    each  word   made  true  and 

good, 
The  Apparition  comes.     I  knew-  your  Father  : 
These  hands  are  not  more  like. 

Ham.  But  where  was  this  ? 

Mar.  My  Lord,  vpon  the  platforme  where  we 

Watcht.  watch 

Ham.  Did  you  not  speake  to  it  ? 
Hon  My  Lord,  I  did  ; 
But  answere  made  it  none  :  yet  once  me  thought 
It  lifted  vp  it  head,  and  did  addresse 
It  selfe  to  motion,  like  as  it  would  speake  : 
But  euen  then,  the  Morning  Cocke  crew  lowd  ; 
And  at  the  sound  it  shrunke  in  hast  away, 
And  vanisht  from  our  sight. 
Ham.  Tis  very  strange. 

Hor.  As   I    doe    Hue    my   honourd    Lord    'tis 
true ; 
14  And  we  did  thinke  it  writ  downe  in  our  duty 
To  let  you  know  of  it. 
32,  52         Ham.  Indeed,   indeed   Sirs  ;  but  this  troubles  indeede  sirs 
me. 
Hold  you  the  watch  to  Night  ? 

Both.  We  doe  my  Lord.  ail 

Ham.  Arm'd,  say  you  ? 

Both.  Arm'd,  my  Lord.  ail 

Ham.  From  top  to  toe  ? 

Both.  My  Lord,  from  head  to  foote.  ail 

Ham.  Then  saw  you  not  his  face  ? 
Hor.  O  yes,  my  Lord,  he  wore  his  Beauer  vp. 
Ham.  What,  lookt  he  frowningly  ? 
S4,i74         Hor.  A  countenance  more  in  sorrow  then  in 
anger.1 
120         Ham.  Pale,  or  red  ? 
Hor.  Nay  very  pale. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  31 


1  The  mood  of  the  Ghost  thus  represented,  remains  the  same  towards 
his  wife  throughout  the  play. 


32  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  And  fixt  his  eyes  vpon  you  ? 

Hor.  Most  constantly. 

Ham.  I  would  I  had  beene  there. 

Hor.  It  would  haue  much  amaz'd  you. 

Ham.  Very  like,  very  like  :  staid  it  long  ?  very  like, 

stayd 

Hor.  While  one  with  moderate  hast  might  tell 

a  hundred.  hundreth 

All.  Longer,  longer.  pcth. 

Hor.  Not  when  I  saw't. 

Ham.  His  Beard  was  grisly  ?  l  no.  grissid 

Hor.  It  was,  as  I  haue  seene  it  in  his  life, 
138  A  Sable2  Siluer'd. 

Ham.  He    watch   to    Night ;    perchance   'twill 

Wake  againe.  walkeagaine. 

Hor.  I  warrant  you  it  will.  wam't  it 

44         Ham.  If  it  assume  my  noble  Fathers  person,3 
He  speake  to  it,  though  Hell  it  selfe  should  gape 
And  bid  me  hold  my  peace.     I  pray  you  all, 
If  you  haue  hitherto  conceald  this  sight ; 
Let  it  bee  treble5  in  your  silence  still  :  be  tenable  in  * 

And  whatsoeuer  els  shall  hap  to  night,  whatsomeuer 

Giue  it  an  vnderstanding  but  no  tongue  ; 
I  will  requite  your  loues  ;  so,  fare  ye  well  :  farre  you 

Vpon  the  Platforme  twixt  eleuen  and  twelue,  aieauenand 

twelfe 

He  visit  you. 

All.  Our  duty  to  your  Honour.-  Exeunt. 

Ham.  Your  loue,  as  mine  to  you  :  farewell.  loves, 

My  Fathers  Spirit  in  Armes  ? 6     All  is  not  well  : 
3°>  52   I  doubt  some  foule  play :  would  the  Night  were 
come  ; 
Till  then  sit  still  my  soule  ;  foule  deeds  will  rise,      fbnde  deedes 
Though  all  the  earth  orewhelm  them  to  mens  eies. 

Exit. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


33 


1  grisly — gray  ;  grissl  d—  turned  gray  ; — mixed  with  white. 
3  The  colour  of  sable-fur,  I  think. 


3  Hamlet  does  not  accept  the  Appearance  as  his  father  ;  he  thinks  i 
may  be  he,  but  seems  to  take  a  usurpation  of  his  form  for  very  possible. 


4  \st  Q.  'tenible' 

5  If  treble  be  the  right  word,  the  actor  in  uttering  it  must  point  to 
each  of  the  three,  with  distinct  yet  rapid  motion.  The  phrase  would  be 
a  strange  one,  but  not  unlike  Shakspere.  Compare  Cyntbeline,  act  v. 
sc.  5  :  '  And  your  three  motives  to  the  battle,'  meaning  '  the  motives  of 
you  three.'  Perhaps,  however,  it  is  only  the  adjective  for  the  adverb  : 
'  having  concealed  it  hitherto,  conceal  it  trebly  now.''  But  tenible  may  be 
the  word  :  '  let  it  be  a  thing  to  be  kept  in  your  silence  still.' 


Alone,  he  does  not  dispute  the  idea  of  its  being  his  father. 


i; 


34 


THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 


72 


Scema   Tertia: 
Enter  Laertes  and  OpJielia. 

Laer.  My  necessaries  are  imbark't  ;  Farewell : 
And  Sister,  as  the  Winds  giue  Benefit, 
And  Conuoy  is  assistant  ;  doe  not  sleepe, 
But  let  me  heare  from  you. 

Ophel.  Doe  you  doubt  that  ? 

Laer.  For   Hamlet,    and     the    trifling    of    his 
fauours, 
Hold  it  a  fashion  and  a  toy  in  Bloud  ; 
A  Violet  in  the  youth  of  Primy  Nature  ; 
Froward,2  not  permanent ;  sweet  not  lasting 
The  supplianee  of  a  minute  ?     No  more.3 

OpJiel.  No  more  but  so.4 

L^aer.  Thinke  it  no  more. 
For  nature  cressant  does  not  grow  alone, 
In  thewes 5  and  Bulke  :  but  as  his  Temple  waxes,0 
The  inward  seruice  of  the  Minde  and  Soule 
Growes  wide  withall.     Perhaps  he  loues  you  now,7 
And  now  no  soyle  nor  cautell 8  doth  besmerch 
The  vertue  of  his  feare  :  but  you  must  feare 
His  greatnesse  weigh'd,  his  will  is  not  his  owne  ;9 
For  hee  himselfe  is  subiect  to  his  Birth  : 10 
Hee  may  not,  as  vnuallued  persons  doe, 
Carue  for  himselfe  ;  for,  on  his  choyce  depends 
The  sanctity  and  health  of  the  weole  State. 
And  therefore  must  his  choyce  be  circumscrib'd  n 
Vnto  the  voyce  and  yeelding  12  of  that  Body, 
Whereof  he   is  the   Head.     Then   if  he   sayes  he 

loues  you, 
It  fits  your  wisedome  so  farre  to  beleeue  it ; 
As  he  in  his  peculiar  Sect  and  force  13 
May  giue  his  saying  deed  :  which  is  no  further, 


Ophelia  his 
Sister. 

inbarckt,    ' 


conuay, in 
assistant  doc 


favour, 


The.  perfume 
and  supplianee 


bulkes,  but  as 
this 


of  his  will,  but 
wayd 


The  safty  and 
I  this  whole 


his  particuler 
act  and  place 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  35 

1  Not  in  Quarto. 


9  Same  as  forward.  ? 

3  '  No  more '  makes  a  new  line  in  the  Quarto 

4  I  think  this  speech  should  end  with  a  point  of  interrogation. 


5  muscles 

6  The  body  is  the  temple,  in  which  the  mind  and  soul  are  the  wor- 
shippers :  their  service  grows  with  the  temple — wide,  changing  and 
increasing  its  objects.  The  degraded  use  of  the  grand  image  is  after  the 
character  of  him  who  makes  it. 

7  The  studied  contrast  between  Laertes  and  Hamlet  begins  already 
to  appear  :  the  dishonest  man,  honestly  judging  after  his  own  dishonesty, 
warns  his  sister  against  the  honest  man. 

8  deceit 

9  '  You  have  cause  to  fear  when  you  consider  his  greatness  :  his 
will  &c.'  '  You  must  fear,  his  greatness  being  weighed  ;  for  because  of 
that  greatness,  his  will  is  not  his  own.' 

10  This  line  not  in  Quarto. 


11  limited 
M  allowance 

13  This  change  from  the  Quarto  seems  to  me  to  bear  the  mark  of 
Shakspere's  hand.  The  meaning  is  the  same,  but  the  words  are  more 
individual  and  choice  :  the  sect,  the  head  in  relation  to  the  body,  is  more 
pregnant  than  place  ;  and  force,  that  is  power,  is  a  fuller  word  than  act, 
or  even  action,  for  which  it  plainly  appears  to  stand. 

D  2 


|d  THE    TKAGEDJE    OF  HAMLET, 

Then  the  maine  voyce  of  Denmarke  goes  withall. 

Then  weigh  what  losse  your  Honour  may  sustaine, 

If  with  too  credent  eare  you  list  his  Songs  ; 

Or  lose  your  Heart  ;  or  your  chast  Treasure  open     Or  louse 

To  his  vnmastred  l  importunity. 

Feare  it  Ophelia,  feare  it  my  deare  Sister, 

And  keepe  within  the  reare  of  your  Affection  ; 2     .  Jgp«  v°u  in 

Out  of  the  shot  and  danger  of  Desire. 

The  chariest  Maid  is  Prodigall  enough,  " The  * 

If  she  vnmaske  her  beauty  to  the  Moone  : 3 

Vertue  it  selfe  scapes  not  calumnious  stroakes,  "v«rtue4 

The  Canker  Galls,  the  Infants  of  the  Spring-  "The canker 

"  gaules  the  4 

Too  oft  before  the  buttons 5  be  disclos'd,  their  buttons 

And  in  the  Morne  and  liquid  dew  of  Youth, 

Contagious  blastments  are  most  imminent. 

Be  wary  then,  best  safety  lies  in  feare  ; 

Youth  to  it  selfe  rebels,  though  none  else  neere.6 

Ophe.  I    shall   th'effect    of    this   good    Lesson 
keepe, 
As  watchmen  to  my  heart :  but  good  my  Brother     watchman 
Doe  not  as  some  vngracious  Pastors  doe, 
Shew  me  the  steepe  and  thorny  way  to  Heauen  ; 
Whilst  like  a  puft  and  recklesse  Libertine 
Himselfe,  the  Primrose  path  of  dalliance  treads, 
And  reaks  not  his  owne  reade.7'8         9 

Laer.  Oh,  feare  me  not"* 

Enter  Polonius, 

I  stay  too  long  ;  but  here  my  Father  comes  : 
A  double  blessing  is  a  double  grace  j 
Occasion  smiles  vpon  a  second  leaue.11 

PolonP  Yet  heere  Laertes  ?     Aboord,   aboord 
for  shame, 
The  winde  sits  in  the  shoulder  of  your  saile, 
And  you  are  staid  for  there  :  my  blessing  with  you  ;  forvthure  niy  ' 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  37 


Without  a  master  ;  lawless. 


2  Do  not  go  so  far  as  inclination  would  lead  you.  Keep  behind  your 
liking.     Do  not  go  to  the  front  with  your  impulse. 

3  — but  to  the  moon— which  can  show  it  so  little. 

4  Opened  but  not  closed  quotations  in  the  Quarto. 

5  The  French  bouton  is  also  both  butto?i  and  bud. 

6  '  Inclination  is  enough  to  have  to  deal  with,  let  alone  added  tempta- 
tion.' Like  his  father,  Laertes  is  wise  for  another — a  man  of  maxims, 
not  behaviour.  His  morality  ism  his  intellect  and  for  self-ends,  not  in  his 
will,  and  for  the  sake  of  truth  and  righteousness. 

7  ist  Q.     But  my  deere  brother,  do  not  you 

Like  to  a  cunning  Sophister, 
Teach  me  the  path  and  ready  way  to  heauen, 
While  you  forgetting  what  is  said  to  me, 
Your  selfe,  like  to  a  carelesse  libertine 
Doth  giue  his  heart,  his  appetite  at  fill, 
And  little  recks  how  that  his  honour  dies. 

'  The  primrose  way  to  the  everlasting  bonfire.' — Macbeth,  ii.  3. 

1  The  flowery  way  that  leads  to  the  broad  gate  and  the  great  fire.' 

AlPs  Well.,  iv.  5. 

8  '  heeds  not  his  own  counsel.' 

9  Here  in  Quarto,  Enter  Polonius. 

10  With  the  fitting  arrogance  and  impertinence  of  a  libertine  brother, 
he  has  read  his  sister  a  lecture  on  propriety  of  behaviour  ;  but  when  she 
gently  suggests  that  what  is  good  for  her  is  good  for  him  too, — '  Oh,  fear 
me  not ! — I  stay  too  long.' 

11  'A  second  leave-taking  is  a  happy  chance'  :  the  chance,  or  occa- 
sion, because  it  is  happy,  smiles.  It  does  not  mean  that  occasion  smiles 
upon  a  second  leave,  but  that,  upon  a  second  leave,  occasion  smiles. 
There  should  be  a  comma  after  smiles. 

12  As  many  of  Polonius'  aphorismic  utterances  as  are  given  in  the 
ist  Quarto  have  there  inverted  commas  ;  but  whether  intended  as  gleanings 
from  books  or  as  fruits  of  experience,  the  light  they  throw  on  the  character 
of  him  who  speaks  them  is  the  same  :  they  show  it  altogether  selfish.  He 
is  a  man  of  the  world,  wise  in  his  generation,  his  principles  the  best  of 
their  bad  sort.  Of  these  his  son  is  a  fit  recipient  and  retailer,  passing  on 
to  his  sister  their  father's  grand  doctrine  of  self-protection.  But,  wise 
in  maxim,  Polonius  is  foolish  in  practice — not  from  senility,  but  from 
vanity. 


38  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

And  these  few  Precepts  in  thy  memory,1 

See  thou  Character.2   Giue  thy  thoughts  no  tongue,  Looke  thou 

Nor  any  vnproportion'd 3  thought  his  Act : 

Be  thou  familiar  ;  but  by  no  meanes  vulgar : 4 

The  friends  thou  hast,  and  their  adoption  tride,5        Those  friends 

Grapple  them  to  thy  Soule,  with  hoopes  of  Steele  :  unto 

But  doe  not  dull  thy  palme,  with  entertainment 

Of  each  vnhatch't,  vnfledg'd  Comrade.6     Beware      Jatcht*^. 

Of  entrance  to  a  quarrell  :  but  being  in  fledgd  courage' 

Bear't  that  th'opposed  may  beware  of  thee. 

Giue  euery  man  thine  eare  ;  but  few  thy  voyce  :        thy  eare, 

Take  each  mans  censure 7  ;  but  reserue  thy  iudge- 

ment : 
Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy  ; 
But  not  exprest  in  fancie  ;  rich,  not  gawdie : 
For  the  Apparell  oft  proclaimes  the  man. 
And  they  in  France  of  the  best  raftck  and  station, 
Are  of  a  most  select  and  generous8  cherT  in  that.10  Orofajgener- 

ous,  chiefe9 

Neither  a  borrower,  nor  a  lender  be  ;  lender  boy, 

For  lone  oft  loses  both  it  selfe  and  friend  :  loue 

And  borrowing  duls  the  edge  of  Husbandry.11  duiiethedge 

This  aboue  all  ;  to  thine  owne  selfe  be  true  : 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  Night  the  Day, 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man.12 
Farewell  :  my  Blessing  season  13  this  in  thee. 

Laer.  Most  humbly  doe  I   take  my  leaue,  my 
Lord. 

Polon.  The  time  inuites  you,  goe,  your  seruants  time  inuests 
tend. 

Laer.  Farewell  Ophelia,  and  remember  well 
What  I  haue  said  to  you.14 

Ophe.  Tis  in  my  memory  lockt, 
And  you  your  selfe  shall  keepe  the  key  of  it. 

Laer.  Farewell.  Exit  Laer. 

Polon.  What  ist  Ophelia  he  hath  said  to  you  ? 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  39 

1  He  hurries  him  to  go,  yet  immediately  begins  to  prose. 

2  Engrave. 

3  Not  settled  into  its  true  shape  (?)  or,  out  of  proportion  with  its  occa- 
sions (?) — I  cannot  say  which. 

4  '  Cultivate  close  relations,  but  do  not  lie  open  to  common  access.' 
'Have  choice  intimacies,  but  do  not  be  hail,  fellow !  well  met!  with 
everybody.'     What  follows  is  an  expansion  of  the  lesson. 

5  'The  friends  thou  hast— and  the  choice  of  them  justified  by  trial — ' 
equal  to  :  '  provided  their  choice  be  justified  &c.' 

6  '  Do  not  make  the  palm  hard,  and  dull  its  touch  of  discrimination, 
by  shaking  hands  in  welcome  with  every  one  that  turns  up.' 


judgment,  opinion. 


8  Generosus,  of  good  breed,  a  gentleman. 

9  ist  Q.  '  generall  chiefe.' 

10  No  doubt  the  omission  of  of  a  gives  the  right  number  of  syllables 
to  the  verse,  and  makes  room  for  the  interpretation  which  a  dash  between 
generous  and  chief  renders  clearer :  '  Are  most  select  and  generous — 
chief  in  that,' — '  are  most  choice  and  well-bred — chief,  indeed — at  the 
head  or  top,  in  the  matter  of  dress.'  But  without  necessity  or  authority 
—  one  of  the  two,  I  would  not  throw  away  a  word  ;  and  suggest  therefore 
that  Shakspere  had  here  the  French  idiom  de  son  chef  in  his  mind,  and 
qualifies  the  noun  in  it  with  adjectives  of  his  own.  The  Academy  Dic- 
tionary gives  de  son  ftroftre  mouvement  as  one  interpretation  of  the  phrase. 
The  meaning  would  be,  '  they  are  of  a  most  choice  and  developed  instinct 
in  dress.'  Cheff 'or  chief  suggests  the  upper  third  of  the  heraldic  shield, 
but  I  cannot  persuade  the  suggestion  to  further  development.  The 
hypercatalectic  syllables  of  a,  swiftly  spoken,  matter  little  to  the  verse,- 
especially  as  it  is  dramatic. 

11  Those  that  borrow,  having  to  pay,  lose  heart  for  saving. 

'  There's  husbandry  in  heaven  ; 
Their  candles  are  all  out.' — Macbeth,  ii.  i. 

12  Certainly  a  man  cannot  be  true  to  himself  without  oeing  true  to 
others  ;  neither  can  he  be  true  to  others  without  being  true  to  himself; 
but  if  a  man  make  himself  the  centre  for  the  birth  of  action,  it  will 
follow,  '  as  the  night  the  day,'  that  he  will  be  true  neither  to  himself  nor 
to  any  other  man.  In  this  regard  note  the  history  of  Laertes,  developed 
in  the  play. 

13  — as  salt,  to  make  the  counsel  keep. 

14  See  note  9,  page  yj- 


4o  THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF    HAMLET, 

Ophe.  So  please  you,  somthing  touching  the  L. 

Hamlet, 
Polon.  Marry,  well  bethought : 
Tis  told  me  he  hath  very  oft  of  late 
Giuen  priuate  time  to  you  ;  and  you  your  sclfe 
Haue  of  your  audience  beene  most  free  and  boun- 
teous.1 
If  it  be  so,  as  so  tis  put  on  me  ; 2 
And  that  in  way  of  caution  :  I  must  tell  you, 
You  doe  not  vnderstand  your  selfe  so  cleerely, 
As  it  behoues  my  Daughter,  and  your  Honour 
What  is  betweene  you,  giue  me  vp  the  truth  ? 

Ophe.  He  hath  my  Lord  of  late,  made  many 
tenders 
Of  his  affection  to  me. 

Polon.  Affection,   puh.      You    speak e    like    a 
greene  Girle, 
Vnsifted  in  such  perillous  Circumstance. 
Doe  you  beleeue  his  tenders,  as  you  call  them  ? 
Ophe.  I  do  not  know,  my  Lord,  what  I  should 

thinke. 
Polon.  Marry  He  teach  you  ;  thinke  your  self    i  win 
a  Baby, 
That  you  haue  tane  his  tenders  for  true  pay,  tane  these 

Which  are  not  starling.     Tender  your  selfe  more  sterling 

dearly  ; 
Or  not  to  crack  the  winde  of  the  poore  Phrase,  (not .  .  .  &c. 

Roaming  it 3  thus,  you'l  tender  me  a  foole.4  Wrong  it  thus) 

Ophe.  My  Lord,  he  hath  importun'd  me  with 
loue, 
In  honourable  fashion. 

Polon.  I,  fashion  you  may  call  it,  go  too,  go  too. 
Ophe.  And    hath    giuen    countenance    to    his 
speech, 
My  Lord,  with  all  the  vowes  of  Heauen.  X,"  holy  vowei 

of 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE,  4t 


1  There  had  then  been  a  good  deal  of  intercourse  between  Hamlet 
and  Ophelia  :   she  had  heartily  encouraged  him. 

2  *  as  so  I  am  informed,  and  that  by  way  of  caution,' 


3  — making  it,  'the  poor  phrase i  tenders,  gallop  wildly  about— as  one 
might  roam  a  horse ;  larking  it. 

4  •  you  will  in  your  own  person  present  me  a  fool.? 


42  THE    TRACED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Polon.  I,  Springes  to  catch  Woodcocks.1     I  doe  ■prfngi 
know 
When  the  Bloud  burncs,  how  Prodigall  the  Soulc 2 
Giues  the  tongue  vowes  :  these  blazes,  Daughter,      Lends  the 
Giuing  more  light  then  heate  ;  extinct  in  both,3 
Euen  in  their  promise,  as  it  is  a  making  ; 
You  must  not  take  for  fire.   For  this  time  Daughter,4   fire,  from  this 
Be  somewhat  scanter  of  your  Maiden  presence  ;        something 
Set  your  entreatments 5  at  a  higher  rate, 
Then  a  command  to  parley.     For  Lord  Hamlet,      Parie; 
Beleeue  so  much  in  him,  that  he  is  young, 
And  with  a  larger  tether  may  he  walke,  tider 

Then  may  be  giuen  you.     In  few,6  Ophelia, 
Doe  not  beleeue  his  vowes  ;  for  they  are  Broakers, 
Not  of  the  eye,7  which  their  Inuestments  show  :         Gf  that  die 
But  meere  implorators  of  vnholy  Sutes,  impioratotors 

Breathing  like  sanctified  and  pious  bonds, 
The  better  to  beguile.     This  is  for  all : 8  beguide 

I  would  not,  in  plaine  tearmes,  from  this  time  forth, 
Haue  you  so  slander  any  moment  leisure,9 
70,  82    As  to  giue  words  or  talke  with  the  Lord  Hamlet : 10 
Looke  too't,  I  charge  you  ;  come  your  wayes. 

Ophe.  I  shall  obey  my  Lord.11  Exeunt. 

Enter  Hamlet,  Horatio,  Marcellns.  andMarceiius 

2  Ham.  12  The  Ay  re  bites   shrewdly  :  is   it  very 

cold  ? 13 
Hor.  It  is  a  nipping  and  an  eager  ayre. 
Ham.  What  hower  now  ? 
Hor.  I  thinke  it  lacks  of  twelue. 
Mar.  No,  it  is  strooke. 

Hor.  Indeed   I   heard  it  not  :    then   it   drawes  U  then 
neere  the  season, 
Wherein  the  Spirit  held  his  wont  to  walke.  „  „   . ,  , 

1  A  florish  of 

What  does  this  meane  my  Lord  ?  H  %7SPoTsl/^ 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 
Woodcocks  were  understood  to  have  no  brains. 


43 


2  ist  Q.  '  How  prodigall  the  tongue  lends  the  heart  vowes.'  I  was 
inclined  to  take  Prodigall  for  a  noun,  a  proper  name  or  epithet  given 
to  the  soul,  as  in  a  moral  play  :  Prodigall,  the  soul ;  but  I  conclude  it 
only  an  adjective  used  as  an  adverb,  and  the  capital  P  a  blunder. 

3  — in  both  light  and  heat. 

4  The  Quarto  has  not '  Daughter.' 


5  To  be  entreated  is  to  yield:  'he  would  nowise  be  entreated:'  en- 
treatments,  yieldings  :  '  you  are  not  to  see  him  just  because  he  chooses  to 
command  a  parley.' 


6  '  In  few  words  ' ;  in  brief 

7  I  suspect  a  misprint  in  the  Folio  here — that  an  e  has  got  in  for  a  d, 
and  that  the  change  from  the  Quarto  should  be  Not  of  the  dye.  Then 
the  line  would  mean,  using  the  antecedent  word  brokers  in  the  bad  sense, 
'  Not  themselves  of  the  same  colour  as  their  garments  {investments) ; 
his  vows  are  clothed  in  innocence,  but  are  not  innocent ;  they  are  mere 
panders.'  The  passage  is  rendered  yet  more  obscure  to  the  modern 
sense  by  the  accidental  propinquity  of  bonds,  brokers,  and  investments — 
which  have  nothing  to  do  with  slocks. 

8  '  This  means  in  sum  : ' 

9  '  so  slander  any  moment  with  the  name  of  leisure  as  to  '  :  to  call  it 
leisure,  if  leisure  stood  for  talk  with  Hamlet,  would  be  to  slander  the 
time.  We  might  say,  '  so  slander  any  man  friend  as  to  expect  him  to 
do  this  or  that  unworthy  thing  for  you.' 

10  ist  Q.  Ofelia,  receiue  none  of  his  letters, 

"  For  louers  lines  are  snares  to  intrap  the  heart ; 
82     "  Refuse  his  tokens,  both  of  them  are  keyes 

To  vnlocke  Chastitie  vnto  Desire  ; 

Come  in  Ofelia  ;  such  men  often  proue, 

"  Great  in  their  wordes,  but  little  in  their  loue. 
'  men  often  prove  such— great  &c.'—  Compare  Twelfth  Night,  act  ii.  sc.  4, 
lines  120,  121,  Globe  ed. 

11  Fresh  trouble  for  Hamlet. 

12  1st  Q.  The  ayre  bites  shrewd  ;  it  is  an  eager  and 

An  nipping  winde,  what  houre  i'st  ? 

13  Again  the  cold. 


14  The  stage-direction  of  the  Q.  is  necessary  here. 


22,  2 


44  THE    TRACED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  The  King  doth  wake  to  night,  and  takes 


his  rouse, 
Keepes  wassels  and  the  swaggering  vpspring  recles,1   wasseii  | 

up-spring 

And  as  he  dreines  his  draughts  of  Renish  downe, 
The  kettle  Drum  and  Trumpet  thus  bray  out 
The  triumph  of  his  Pledge. 

Horat.  Is  it  a  custome  ? 

Ham,  I  marry  ist ; 
And  to  my  mind,  though  I  am  natiue  heere,  But  to 

And  to  the  manner  borne :  It  is  a  Custome 

More  honour'd  in  the  breach,  then  the  obseruance. 

* 

Enter  Ghost. 

Hor.  Looke  my  Lord,  it  comes. 
Ham.  Angels  and  Ministers  of  Grace  defend  vs  : 
32    Be  thou  a  Spirit  of  health,  or  Goblin  damn'd, 
Bring  with  thee  ayres  from  Heauen,  or  blasts  from 
Hell,2       

*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

This  heauy  headed  reueale  east  and  west x 
Makes  vs  tradust,  and  taxed  of  other  nations, 
They  clip  2  vs  drunkards,  and  with  Swinish  phrase 
Soyle  our  addition,3  and  indeede  it  takes 
From  our  atchieuements,  though  perform'd  at  height  4 
The  pith  and  marrow  of  our  attribute, 
So  oft  it  chaunces  in  particuler  men,5 
That  for  some  vicious  mole 6  of  nature  in  them 
As  in  their  birth  wherein  they  are  not  guilty,7 
(Since  nature  cannot  choose  his  origin) 
By  their  ore-grow'th  of  some  complextion  8 
Oft  breaking  downe  the  pales  and  forts  of  reason 
Or  by 9  some  habit,  that  too  much  ore-leauens 
The  forme  of  plausiue  10  manners,  that11  these  men 
Carrying  I  say  the  stamp  of  one  defect 
Being  Natures  liuery,  or  Fortunes  starre,12 
His  13  vertues  els  14  be  they  as  pure  as  grace, 
As  infinite  as  man  may  vndergoe,15 
Shall  in  the  generall  censure  16  take  corruption 
From  that  particuler  fault : 17  the  dram  of  eale  18 
Doth  all  the  noble  substance  of  a  doubt 19 
To  his20  owne  scandle. 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  45 

1  Does  Hamlet  here  call  his  uncle  an  upspring,  an  upstart!  or  is 
the  upspting  a  dance,  the  English  equivalent  of  'the  high  lavolV  of 
Troil.  and  Cress,  iv.  4,  and  governed  by  reels — *  keeps  wassels,  and  reels 
the  swaggering  upspring ' — a  dance  that  needed  all  the  steadiness  as  well 
as  agility  available,  if,  as  I  suspect,  it  was  that  in  which  each  gentleman 
lifted  the  lady  high,  and  kissed  her  before  setting  her  down  ?  I  cannot 
answer,  I  can  only  put  the  question.  The  word  swaggering  makes  me 
lean  to  the  former  interpretation. 

2  Observe  again  Hamlet's  uncertainty.  He  does  not  take  it  for 
granted  that  it  is  his  father's  spirit,  though  it  is  plainly  his  form. 


I  The  Quarto  surely  came  too  early  for  this  passage  to  have  been  suggested  by  the  shameful 
habits  which  invaded  the  court  through  the  example  of  Anne  of  Denmark  !  Perhaps  Shakspere 
cancelled  it  both  because  he  would  not  have  it  supposed  he  had  meant  to  reflect  on  the  queen, 
and  because  he  came  to  think  it  too  diffuse. 

-  clepe,  call. 

3  Same  as  attribute,  two  lines  lower— the  thing  imputed  to,  or  added  to  us— our  reputation, 
our  title  or  epithet. 

4  performed  to  perfection 
s  individuals 

6  A  mole  on  the  body,  according  to  the  place  where  it  appeared,  was  regarded  as  significant 
of  character  :  in  that  relation,  a  vicious  mole  would  be  one  that  indicated  some  special  vice  ; 
but  here  the  allusion  is  to  a  live  mole  of  constitutional  fault,  burrowing  within,  whose  presence 
the  mole-heap  on  the  skin  indicates. 

'  The  order  here  would  be  :  '  for  some  vicious  mole  of  nature  in  them,  as  by  their  o'er- 
growth,  in  their  birth— wherein  they  are  not  guilty,  since  nature  cannot  choose  his  origin  (or 
parentage)— their  o'ergrowth  of  (their  being  overgrown  or  possessed  by)  some  complexion,  &c.' 

8  Coyiplexion,  as  the  exponent  of  the  temperament,  or  masterful  tendency  of  the  nature, 
stands  here  for  temperament—  oft  breaking  down  &c.'  Both  words  have  in  them  the  element 
of  mingling— a  mingling  to  certain  results. 

8  The  connection  is  : 

That  for  some  vicious  mole— 
As  by  their  o'ergrowth — 
Or  by  some  habit,  &c. 

10  pleasing 

II  Repeat  from  above  '  — so  oft  it  chaunces,'  before  'that  these  men.' 

13  ■  whether  the  thing  come  by  Nature  or  by  Destiny,'  Fortune's  star  :  the  mark  set  on  a 
man  by  Fortune  to  prove  her  share  in  him.     83 

13  A  change  to  the  singular. 

14  '  be  his  virtues  besides  as  pure  &c. 

15  walk  under  ;  carry. 

16  the  judgment  of  the  many 

17  '  Dead  flies  cause  the  ointment  of  the  apothecary  to  send  forth  a  stinking  savour  :  so  doth 
a  little  folly  him  that  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom  and  honour.'    Eccles.  x.  1. 

iB  Compare  Quarto  reading,  page  112  : 

The  spirit  that  I  haue  seene 
May  be  a  deale,  and  the  deale  hath  power  &c. 
\l  deale  here  stand  for  devil,  then  eale  may  in  the  same  edition  be  taken  to  stand  for  evil.    It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  suspect  a  Scotch  printer ;  ez'il  is  often  used  as  a  monosyllable,  and  eale  may 
have  been  a  pronunciation  of  it  half-way  towards  ill,  which  is  its  contraction. 

19  I  do  not  believe  there  is  any  corruption  in  the  rest  of  the  passage.  '  Doth  it  of  a  doubt :' 
affects  it  with  a  doubt,  brings  it  into  doubt.  The  following  from  Measure  for  Measure,  is  like, 
though  not  the  same. 

I  have  on  Angelo  imposed  the  office, 
Who  may,  in  the  ambush  of  my  name,  strike  home 
And  yet  my  nature  never  in  the  fight 
To  do  in  slander. 
'  To  do  my  nature  in  slander '  ;  to  affect  it  with  slander  ;  to  bring  it  into  slander.     '  Angelo  may 
punish  in  my  name,  but,  not  being  present,  I  shall  not  be  accused  of  cruelty,  which  would  be  to 
slander  my  nature.' 

ao  his— the  man's  ;  see  note  13  above. 


46  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

1 1 2   Be  thy  euents  wicked  or  charitable,  thy  intent 

Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape1 
That  I  will  speake  to  thee.     He  call  thee  Hamlet? 
King,    Father,    Royall     Dane :      Oh,    oh,    answer  Dane,  a 

answert 

me, 
Let  me  not  burst  in  Ignorance  ;  but  tell 
Why  thy  Canoniz'd  bones  Hearsed  in  death,3 
Haue  burst  their  cerments  ;  why  the  Sepulcher 
Wherein  we  saw  thee  quietly  enurn'd,4  quietly  in- 

terr'd  ' 

Hath  op'd  his  ponderous  and  Marble  iawes, 

To  cast  thee  vp  againe  ?     What  may  this  meane  ? 

That  thou  dead  Coarse  againe  in  compleat  Steele, 

Reuisits  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  Moone, 

Making  Night  hidious  ?    And  we  fooles  of  Nature,6 

So  horridly  to  shake  our  disposition,7  the  reaches 

With    thoughts    beyond    thee;    reaches    of    our 

Soules,8 
Say,  why  is  this?  wherefore?  what  should  we  doe  ?  9 

Ghost  beckens  Hamlet. 
Hor.  It  beckons  you  to  goe  away  with  it,  Bukin*. 

As  if  it  some  impartment  did  desire 
To  you  alone. 

Mar.  Looke  with  what  courteous  action 
It  wafts  you  to  a  more  remcued  ground  :  waues 

But  doe  not  goe  with  it. 
Hor.  No,  by  no  meanes. 

Ham.  It  will  not  speake  :  then  will  I  follow  it.  i  win 
Hor.  Doe  not  my  Lord. 
Ham.  Why,  what  should  be  the  feare  ? 
I  doe  not  set  my  life  at  a  pins  fee ; 
And  for  my  Soule,  what  can  it  doe  to  that  ? 
Being  a  thing  immortall  as  it  selfe  : 10 
It  waues  me  forth  againe  ;  He  follow  it. 

Hor.  What  if  it  tempt  you  toward  the  Floud 
my  Lord  ?  " 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  47 


1  — that  of  his  father,  so  moving  him  to  question  it.  Questionable  does 
not  mean  doubtful,  buty?/  to  be  questioned. 

2  *  I'll  call  thee  '—for  the  nonce. 


3  I  think  hearse  was  originally  the  bier — French  herse,  a  harrow — 
but  came  to  be  applied  to  the  coffin  :  hearsed 'in  death—  coffined  in  death. 

4  There  is  no  impropriety  in  the  use  of  the  word  inumed.  It  is  a 
figure — a  word  once-removed  in  its  application  :  the  sepulchre  is  the  urn, 
the  body  the  ashes.  Interred  Shakspere  had  concluded  incorrect,  for 
the  body  was  not  laid  in  the  earth. 

6  So  in  ist  Q.- 


6  ■  fooles  of  Nature ' — fools  in  the  presence  of  her  knowledge — to  us 
no  knowledge — of  her  action,  to  us  inexplicable.  A  fact  that  looks 
unreasonable  makes  one  feel  like  a  fool.  See  Psalm  lxxiii.  22  :  'So 
foolish  was  I  and  ignorant,  I  was  as  a  beast  before  thee.'  As  some  men 
are  our  fools,  we  are  all  Nature's  fools ;  we  are  so  far  from  knowing 
anything  as  it  is. 

7  Even  if  Shakspere  cared  more  about  grammar  than  he  does,  a  man 
in  Hamlet's  perturbation  he  might  well  present  as  making  a  breach  in  it ; 
but  we  are  not  reduced  even  to  justification.  Toschaken  (to  as  German  zu 
intensive)  is  a  recognized  English  word  ;  it  means  to  shake  to  pieces. 
The  construction  of  the  passage  is,  '  What  may  this  mean,  that  thou 
revisitest  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon,  and  that  we  so  horridly  to-shake 
our  disposition  ? '     So  in  The  Merry  Wives, 

And  fairy-like  to-pinch  the  unclean  knight. 
1  our  disposition  ' :  our  cosmic  structure. 

8  *  with  thoughts  that  are  too  much  for  them,  and  as  an  earthquake  to 
them.' 

9  Like  all  true  souls,  Hamlet  wants  to  know  what  he  is  to  do.  He 
looks  out  for  the  action  required  of  him. 


10  Note  here  Hamlet's  mood — dominated  by  his  faith.  His  life  in  this 
world  his  mother  has  ruined  ;  he  does  not  care  for  it  a  pin  :  he  is  not  the 
less  confident  of  a  nature  that  is  immortal.  In  virtue  of  this  belief  in 
life,  he  is  indifferent  to  the  form  of  it.  When,  later  in  the  play,  he  seems 
to  fear  death,  it  is  death  the  consequence  of  an  action  of  whose  rightness 
he  is  not  convinced. 

11  The  Quarto  has  dropped  out '  Lord.' 


48  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Or  to  the  dreadfull  Sonnet  of  the  Cliffe,  somnet 

That  beetles  '  o're  his  base  into  the  Sea,  betties 

112  And  there  assumes  some  other  horrible  forme,2  assume 

Which  might  depriue  your  Soueraignty  3  of  Reason 

And  draw  you  into  madnesse  thinke  of  it  ? 
* 
Ham.  It  wafts  me  still ;  goe  on,  He  follow  thee  waues 

Mar.  You  shall  not  goe  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Hold  off  your  hand.  hands. 

Hor.  Be  rul'd,  you  shall  not  goe. 

Ham.  My  fate  cries  out, 
And  makes  each  petty  Artire4  in  this  body,  anurc* 

As  hardy  as  the  Nemian  Lions  nerue  : 
Still  am  I  cal'd  ?     Vnhand  me  Gentlemen  : 
By  Heau'n,  He  make  a  Ghost  of  him  that  lets  me : 
I  say  away,  goe  on,  He  follow  thee. 

Exeunt  Ghost  &  Hamlet. 

Hor.  He  waxes  desperate  with  imagination.5       imagbn. 

Mar.  Let's  follow ;  'tis  not  fit  thus  to  obey  him. 

Hor.   Haue  after,  to  what  issue  will  this  come  ? 

Mar.  Something  is  rotten  in  the  State  of  Den- 
marke. 

Hor.  Heauen  will  direct  it. 

Mar.  Nay,  let's  follow  him.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Ghost  and  Hamlet. 

Ham.  Where  wilt   thou  lead  me  ?  speak ;  He  whether 

go  no  further. 
Gho.  Marke  me 
Ham.  I  will. 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

The  very  place  puts  toyes  of  desperation 
Without  more  motiue,  into  euery  braine 
That  lookes  so  many  fadoms  to  the  sea 
And  heares  it  rore  beneath. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  49 

1  1st  Q.  '  heckles  ' — perhaps  for  buckles — bends. 

2  Note  the  unbelief  in  the  Ghost. 

3  sovereignty — soul',  so  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  act  v.  sc.  1,  1.  3  : — 

My  bosom's  lord  sits  lightly  in  his  throne. 


4  The  word  artery,  invariably  substituted  by  the  editors,  is  without 
authority.  In  the  first  Quarto,  the  word  is  Artiue ;  in  the  second  (see 
margin)  arture.  This  latter  I  take  to  be  the  right  one — corrupted  into 
Artire  in  the  Folio.  It  seems  to  have  troubled  the  printers,  and  possibly 
the  editors.  The  third  Q.  has  followed  the  second  ;  the  fourth  has  artyre  ; 
the  fifth  Q.  and  the  fourth  F.  have  attire ;  the  second  and  third  Folios 
follow  the  first.  Not  until  the  sixth  Q.  does  artery  appear.  See  Cambridge 
Shakespeare.  Arture  was  to  all  concerned,  and  to  the  language  itself,  a 
new  word.  That  artery  was  not  Shakspere's  intention  might  be  con- 
cluded from  its  unfitness  :  what  propriety  could  there  be  in  making  an 
artery  hardy?  The  sole,  imperfect  justification  I  was  able  to  think  of 
for  such  use  of  the  word  arose  from  the  fact  that,  before  the  discovery 
of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  (published  in  1628),  it  was  believed  that 
the  arteries  (found  empty  after  death)  served  for  the  movements  of  the 
animal  spirits  :  this  might  vaguely  associate  the  arteries  with  courage. 
But  the  sight  of  the  word  arture  in  the  second  Quarto  at  once  relieved  me. 

I  do  not  know  if  a  list  has  ever  been  gathered  of  the  words  made  by 
Shakspere  :  here  is  one  of  them — arture,  from  the  same  root  as  artus,  a 
joint— arcere,  to  hold  together,  adjective  arclus,  tight.  Arture,  then, 
stands  foi  juncture.  This  perfectly  fits.  In  terror  the  weakest  parts  are 
the  joints,  for  their  artures  are  not  hardy.  '  And  you,  my  sinews,  .  .  . 
bear  me  stiffly  up.'     55,  56 

Since  writing  as  above,  a  friend  informs  me  that  arture  is  the  exact 
equivalent  of  the  d<pT)  of  Colossians  ii.  19,  as  interpreted  by  Bishop 
Lightfoot — '  the  relation  between  contiguous  limbs,  not  the  parts  of  the 
limbs  themselves  in  the  neighbourhood  of  contact,' — for  which  relation 
'  there  is  no  word  in  our  language  in  common  use.' 

5  '  with  the  things  he  imagines.' 


50  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Gho.  My  hower  is  almost  come,1 
When  I  to  sulphurous  and  tormenting  Flames 
Must  render  vp  my  selfc. 
Ham.  Alas  poore  Ghost. 

Gho.  Pitty  me  not,  but  lend  thy  serious  hearing 
To  what  I  shall  vnfold. 

Ham.  Speake,  I  am  bound  to  heare. 

Gho.  So  art  thou  to  reuenge,  when  thou  shalt 

heare. 
Ham.  What  ? 

Gho.  I  am  thy  Fathers  Spirit, 
Doom'd  for  a  certaine  terme  to  walke  the  night  ; 2 
And  for  the  day  confin'd  to  fast  in  Fiers,3 
Till  the  foule  crimes  done  in  my  dayes  of  Nature 
Are    burnt   and    purg'd    away  ?     But   that   I    am 

forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  Prison-House  ; 
I  could  a  Tale  vnfold,  whose  lightest  word  4    „ 
Would  harrow  vp  thy  soule,  freeze  thy  young  blood, 
Make  thy  two  eyes  like  Starres,  start  from  their 

Spheres, 
Thy  knotty  and  combined  locks  to  part,  knotted 

And  each  particular  haire  to  stand  an  end,5 
Like  Quilles  vpon  the  fretfull 6  Porpentine  :  fearefid 

But  this  eternall  blason  7  must  not  be 
To  eares  of  flesh  and  bloud  ;  list  Hamlet,  oh  list, 
If  thou  didst  euer  thy  deare  Father  loue. 

Ham.  Oh  Heauen  ! 8  God 

Gho.  Reuenge  his  foule   and    most  vnnaturall 

Murther.9 
Ham.  Murther? 

Ghost.  Murther  most  foule,  as  in  the  best  it  is  ; 
But  this  most  foule,  strange,  and  vnnaturall. 

Ham.   Hast,  hast  me  to  know  it,  Hast  me  to 

^p.,  ...  .  r  know't, 

1  hat  with  winq^s  as  swift  That  i 


blood,  list,  list 
6  list : 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  51 

1  The  night  is  the  Ghost's  day. 


2  To  walk  the  night,  and  see  how  things  go,  without  being  able  to 
put  a  finger  to  them,  is  part  of  his  cleansing. 

3  More  horror  yet  for  Hamlet. 


4  He  would  have  him  think  of  life  and  its  doings  as  of  awful  import. 
He  gives  his  son  what  warning  he  may. 


6  An  end  is  like  agape,  an  hungred.    71,  175 

6  The  word  in  the  Q.  suggests  fretficll  a  misprint  for  frightful.     It  is 
fretfull  in  the  1st  Q.  as  well. 

7  To  blason  is  to  read  off  in  proper  heraldic  terms  the  arms  blasoned 
upon  a  shield.  A  Mason  is  such  a  reading,  but  is  here  used  for  a  picture 
in  words  of  other  objects. 

8  — in  appeal  to  God  whether  he  had  not  loved  his  father. 

9  The  horror  still  accumulates.  The  knowledge  of  evil — not  evil  in 
the  abstract,  but  evil  alive,  and  all  about  him — comes  darkening  down 
upon  Hamlet's  being.  Not  only  is  his  father  an  inhabitant  of  the  nether 
fires,  but  he  is  there  by  murder. 


E  2 


52  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

As  meditation,  or  the  thoughts  of  Loue, 

May  sweepe  to  my  Reuenge.1 

Ghost.  I  finde  thee  apt, 

And  duller  should'st  thou  be  then  the  fat  weede 2 
194 

That  rots  it  selfe  in  ease,  on  Lethe  Wharfe,4  rootes* 

Would'st  thou  not  stirre   in    this.     Now   Hamlet 

heare  : 

It's  giuen  out,  that  sleeping  in  mine  Orchard,  "lis 

A  Serpent  stung  me  :  so  the  whole  eare  of  Den- 

marke, 

Is  by  a  forged  processe  of  my  death 

Rankly  abus'd  :  But  know  thou  Noble  youth, 

The  Serpent  that  did  sting  thy  Fathers  life, 

Now  weares  his  Crowne. 

3°3  32         Ham.  O  my  Propheticke  soule  :  mine  Vncle  ? 5  my 

Ghost.  I  that  incestuous,  that  adulterate  Beast 6 

With  witchcraft  of  his  wits,  hath  Traitorous  guifts.  wits,  with 

Oh  wicked  Wit,  and  Gifts,  that  haue  the  power 

So  to  seduce  ?     Won  to  to  this  shamefull  Lust  wonne  to  his 

The  will  of  my  most  seeming  vertuous  Queene  : 

Oh  Hamlet,  what  a  falling  off  was  there,  what  failing 

From  me,  whose  loue  was  of  that  dignity, 

That  it  went  hand  in  hand,  euen  with  7  the  Vow 

I  made  to  her  in  Marriage  ;  and  to  decline 

Vpon  a  wretch,  whose  Naturall  gifts  were  poore 

To  those  of  mine.     But  Vertue,  as  it  neuer  wil  be 

moued, 

Though  Lewdnesse  court  it  in  a  shape  of  Heauen  : 

So  Lust,  though  to  a  radiant  Angell  link'd,  so  but  though 

Will  sate  it  selfe  in  8  a  Celestiall  bed,  and  prey  on  win  sort  it 

selfe 

Garbage.9 
But  soft,  me  thinkes  I  sent  the  Mornings  Ayre  ;        morning ayre, 
Briefe  let  me  be  :  Sleeping  within  mine  Orchard,      my 
My  custome  alwayes  in  the  afternoone  ;  of  the 

Vpon  my  secure  hower  thy  Vncle  stole 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  53 


1  Now,  for  the  moment,  he  has  no  doubt,  and  vengeance  is  his  first 
thought. 

2  Hamlet  may  be  supposed  to  recall  this,  if  we  suppose  him  after- 
wards to  accuse  himself  so  bitterly  and  so  unfairly  as  in  the  Quarto,  194. 

3  Also  1st  Q. 

4  landing-place  on  the  bank  of  Lethe,  the  hell-river  of  oblivion 


5  This  does  not  mean  that  he  had  suspected  his  uncle,  but  that  his  dis- 
like to  him  was  prophetic. 

6  How  can  it  be  doubted  that  in  this  speech  the  Ghost  accuses  his 
wife  and  brother  of  adultery  ?  Their  marriage  was  not  adultery.  See 
how  the  ghastly  revelation  grows  on  Hamlet — his  father  in  hell — murdered 
by  his  brother — dishonoured  by  his  wife  ! 


parallel  with;  correspondent  tcf 


8  1st  Q.  l  fate  itself  from  a' 

9  This  passage,   from  'Oh   Hamlet/  most   indubitably   asserts  the 
adultery  of  Gertrude. 


54 


THE    TRACE  DTE    OE  HAMLET, 


With  iuyce  of  cursed  Hebenon  l  in  a  Violl, 

And  in  the  Porches  of  mine  eares  did  poure 

The  leaperous  Distilment ; 2  whose  effect 

Holds  such  an  enmity  with  bloud  of  Man, 

That  swift  as  Quick-siluer,  it  courses 3  through 

The  naturall  Gates  and  Allies  of  the  Body  ; 

And  with  a  sodaine  vigour  it  doth  posset 

And  curd,  like  Aygre  droppings  into  Milke, 

The  thin  and  wholsome  blood  :  so  did  it  mine  ; 

And  a  most  instant  Tetter  bak'd  about, 

Most  Lazar-like,  with  vile  and  loathsome  crust, 

All  my  smooth  Body. 

Thus  was  I,  sleeping,  by  a  Brothers  hand, 

Of  Life,  of  Crowne,  and  Queene  at  once  dispatcht ; 

164  Cut  off  euen  in  the  Blossomes  of  my  Sinne, 
Vnhouzzled,  disappointed,  vnnaneld,6 

262   No  reckoning  made,  but  sent  to  my  account 
With  all  my  imperfections  on  my  head  ; 
Oh  horrible,  Oh  horrible,  most  horrible  : 
If  thou  hast  nature  in  thee  beare  it  not ; 
Let  not  the  Royall  Bed  of  Denmarke  be 
A  Couch  for  Luxury  and  damned  Incest.7 
But  howsoeuer  thou  pursuest  this  Act, 
3°>T74  Taint  not  thy  mind ;  nor  let  thy  Soule  contriue 

140  Against  thy  Mother  ought ;  leaue  her  to  heauen, 
And  to  those  Thornes  that  in  her  bosome  lodge, 
To  pricke  and  sting  her.     Fare  thee  well  at  once  ; 
The  Glow-worme  showes  the  Matine  to  be  neere, 
And  gins  to  pale  his  vneffectuall  Fire  : 
Adue,  adue,  Hamlet :  remember  me.  Exit. 

Ham  Oh  all  you  host  of  Heauen  !    Oh  Earth  : 
what  els  ? 
And  shall   I  couple  Hell  ? 9     Oh   fie  10 :  hold    my 

heart  ; 
And  you  my  sinnewes,  grow  not  instant  Old  ; 


Hebona 
my 


doth  possesse 
eager  * 

barckt  about 6 


of  Queene 


Vnhuzled,  |  vn- 
anueld, 


howsomeuer 
thou  pursues 


Adiew,  adiew, 
adiew,  remem- 
ber me.8 


hold,  hold  my 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  55 

1  Ebony 

■  producing  leprosy — as  described  in  result  below. 

3  1st  Q.  '  posteth  ' 

4  So  also  1st  Q. 


5  This  barckt — meaning  cased  as  a  bark  cases-  its  tree--\s  used  in 
1st  Q.  also  :  'And  all  my  smoothe  body,  barked,  and  tetterd  ouer.'  The 
word  is  so  used  in  Scotland  still. 


6  Husel  {Anglo-Saxon)  is  a?i  offering,  the  sacrament.  Disappointed, 
not  appointed:  Dr.  Johnson.  Unaneled,  unoiled,  without  the  extreme 
unction. 


7  It  is  on  public  grounds,  as  a  king  and  a  Dane,  rather  than  as"  a 
husband  and  a  murdered  man,  that  he  urges  on  his  son  the  execution 
of  justice.  Note  the  tenderness  towards  his  wife  that  follows— more 
marked,  174  ;  here  it  is  mingled  with  predominating  regard  to  his  son 
to  whose  filial  nature  he  dreads  injury. 


Q.  omits  Exit. 


9  He  must :  his  father  is  there  f 

10  The  interjection  is  addressed  Xo  heart  and  sineivsy  which  forget  then- 


duty. 


56  THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

But  beare  me  stiffely  vp  :  Remember  thee  ? l  swiftly  vP 

I,  thou  poore  Ghost,  while  memory  holds  a  seate       whiles 
In  this  distracted  Globe2 :  Remember  thee  ? 
Yea,  from  the  Table  of  my  Memory,3 
He  wipe  away  all  triuiall  fond  Records, 
All  sawes4  of  Bookes,  all  formes,  all  presures  past, 
That  youth  and  obseruation  coppied. there  ; 
And  thy  Commandment  all  alone  shall  Hue 
Within  the  Booke  and  Volume  of  my  Braine, 
Vnmixt  with  baser  matter  ;  yes,  yes,  by  Heauen  :     matter,  yes  by 
168   Oh  most  pernicious  woman  ! 5 

Oh  Villaine,  Villaine,  smiling  damned  Villaine  ! 

My  Tables,  my  Tables  ;  meet  it  is  I  set  it  downe,6  My  tables, 

meet 

That  one  may  smile,  and  smile  and  be  a  Villaine  ; 

At  least  I'm  sure  it  may  be  so  in  Denmarke  ;  i  am 

So  Vnckle  there  you  are  r  now  to  my  word  ; 7 

EnterHoratio, 

It  is ;  Adue,  Adue,  Remember  me  : 8  I  haue  sworn't.  andMar. 

'  '  '  cellus. 

Hor.  and  Mar.  within.     My  Lord,  my  Lord.       Mora.  My 

Enter  Horatio  and  Marcellns* 

Mar.  Lord  Hamlet. 

Hor,  Heauen  secure  him.  Heauens 

Mar.  So  be  it. 

Hor.  Illo,  ho,  ho,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Hillo,  ho,  ho,  boy  ;  come  bird,  come.9        boy  come,  and 

come. 

Mar.  How  ist't  my  Noble  Lord  ? 
Hor.  What  newes,  my  Lord  ? 
Ham.  Oh  wonderfull  ! 10 
Hor.  Good  my  Lord  tell  it. 

Ham.  No  you'l  reueale  it.  you  win 

Hor.  Not  I,  my  Lord,  by  Heauen. 
Mar.  Nor  I,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  How  say  you  then,  would  heart  of  man 
once  think  it  ? 
But  you'l  be  secret  ? 


rRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  57 

1  For  the  moment  he  has  no  doubt  that  he  has  seen  and  spoken  with 
the  ghost  of  his  father. 

2  his  head 

3  The  whole  speech  is  that  of  a  student,  accustomed  to  books,  to 
take  notes,  and  to  fix  things  in  his  memory.    '  Table,'  tablet. 

4  wise  sayings 


5  The  Ghost  has  revealed  her  adultery  :  Hamlet  suspects  her  of  com- 
plicity in  the  murder,  168. 

6  It  may  well  seem  odd  that  Hamlet  should  be  represented  as,  at  such 
a  moment,  making  a  note  in  his  tablets  ;  but  without  further  allusion  to 
the  student-habit,  I  would  remark  that,  in  cases  where  strongest  passion 
is  roused,  the  intellect  has  yet  sometimes  an  automatic  trick  of  working 
independently.  For  instance  from  Shakspere,  see  Constance  in  King 
John — how,  in  her  agony  over  the  loss  of  her  son,  both  her  fancy,  playing 
with  words,  and  her  imagination,  playing  with  forms,  are  busy. 

Note  the  glimpse  of  Hamlet's  character  here  given  :  he  had  been 
something  of  an  optimist ;  at  least  had  known  villainy  only  from  books  ; 
at  thirty  years  of  age  it  is  to  him  a  discovery  that  a  man  may  smile  and 
be  a  villain  !  Then  think  of  the  shock  of  such  discoveries  as  are  here 
forced  upon  him  !  Villainy  is  no  longer  a  mere  idea,  but  a  fact !  and 
of  all  villainous  deeds  those  of  his  own  mother  and  uncle  are  the  worst  ! 
But  note  also  his  honesty,  his  justice  to  humanity,  his  philosophic 
temperament,  in  the  qualification  he  sets  to  the  memorandum, '  — at  least 
in  Denmark  ! ' 

7  '  my  word,' — the  word  he  has  to  keep  in  mind  ;  his  cue. 

8  Should  not  the  actor  here  make  a  pause,  with  hand  uplifted,  as 
taking  a  solemn  though  silent  oath  ? 

9  — as  if  calling  to  a  hawk. 

10  Here  comes  the  test  of  the  actor's  possible :  here  Hamlet  himself 
begins  to  act,  and  will  at  once  assume  a  role,  ere  yet  he  well  knows  what 
it  must  be.  One  thing  only  is  clear  to  him— that  the  communication  of 
the  Ghost  is  not  a  thing  to  be  shared — that  he  must  keep  it  with  all  his 
power  of  secrecy :  the  honour  both  of  father  and  of  mother  is  at  stake. 
In  order  to  do  so,  he  must  begin  by  putting  on  himself  a  cloak  of  dark- 
ness, and  hiding  his  feelings— first  of  all  the  present  agitation  which 
threatens  to  overpower  him.  His  immediate  impulse  or  instinctive 
motion  is  to  force  an  air,  and  throw  a  veil  of  grimmest  humour  over  the 
occurrence.  The  agitation  of  the  horror  at  his  heart,  ever  working  and 
constantly  repressed,  shows  through  the  veil,  and  gives  an  excited  uncert- 
ainty to  his  words,  and  a  wild  vacillation  to  his  manner  and  behaviour. 


58  THE    TR AGE DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Both.  I,  by  Heau'n,  my  Lord.1 

Ham.  There's  nere  a  villaine   dwelling  in  all 
Denmarke 
But  hee's  an  arrant  knaue. 

Hor.  There  needs  no  Ghost  my    Lord,   come 
from  the 
Graue,  to  tell  vs  this. 

Ham.  Why  right,  you  are  i'th'right  ;  n  the 

And  so,  without  more  circumstance  at  all, 
I  hold  it  fit  that  we  shake  hands,  and  part  : 
You,  as  your  busines  and  desires  shall  point  you  :     desire 
For  euery  man  ha's  businesse  and  desire,2  hath 

Such  as  it  is  :  and  for  mine  owne  poore  part,  my 

Looke  you,  He  goe  pray.4  i  win  goe 

pray.J 

Hor.  These  are    but  wild  and  hurling  words,  whuriing* 

my  Lord. 
Ham.  I'm  sorry  they  offend  you  heartily  :  l  am 

Yes  faith,  heartily. 

Hor.  There's  no  offence  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Yes,  by  Saint  Patricke,  but  there  is  my  there  is 

1      J  J     Horatio, 

Lord,6 
And  much  offence  too,  touching  this  Vision  heere  :7 
136   It  is  an  honest  Ghost,  that  let  me  tell  you  : 8 
For  your  desire  to  know  what  is  betweene  vs, 
O'remaster't  as  you  may.     And  now  good  friends, 
As  you  are  Friends,  Schollers  and  Soldiers, 
Giue  me  one  poore  request. 

Hor.  What  is't  my  Lord  ?  we  will. 

Ham.  Neuer  make  known  what  you  haue  seen 
to  night.9 

Both.  My  Lord,  we  will  not. 

Ham.  Nay,  but  swear't. 

Hor.  In  faith  my  Lord,  not  I.10 

Mar.  Nor  I  my  Lord  :  in  faith. 

Ham.  Vpon  my  sword.11 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  59 

1  Q.  has  not  (  my  Lord.' 


2  Here  shows  the  philosopher. 


Q.  has  not '  Looke  you.5 
' — nothing  else  is 
t  revelation  of  Hi 
5  1st  Q.  'wherling 


4  * — nothing  else  is  left  me.'  This  seems  to  me  one  of  the  finest  touches 
in  the  revelation  of  Hamlet. 


6  I  take  the  change  from  the  Quarto  here  to  be  no  blunder. 

7  Point  thus:  '  too  ! — Touching' 

8  The  struggle  to  command  himself  is  plain  throughout. 


9  He  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  the  resulting  gossip ;— which 
besides  would  interfere  with,  possibly  frustrate,  the  carrying  out  of  his 
part. 

10  This  is  not  a  refusal  to  swear ;  it  is  the  oath  itself:  { In  faith  I  will 
not: 

11  He  would  have  them  swear  on  the  cross-hilt  of  his  sword. 


6o  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Marcell.  We  haue  swornc  my  Lord  already.1 
Ham.  Indeed,  vpon  my  sword,  Indeed. 
Gho.  Sweare.2  Ghost  cries  vnder  the  Stage? 

Ham.  Ah  ha  boy,  sayest  thou  so.     Art  thou  Ha,  ha, 
there  truepenny  ?   4  Come  one  you  here  this  fellow  come  on,  you 

i  11  i  heare 

in  the  selleredge 
Consent  to  sweare. 

Hor.  Propose  the  Oath  my  Lord.5 

Ham.  Neuer  to  speake  of  this  that  you  haue 
seene. 
Sweare  by  my  sword. 

Gho.  Sweare. 

Ham.  Hie  &   vbique  ?     Then    wee'l    shift  for  shift  our 
grownd, 
Come  hither  Gentlemen, 
And  lay  your  hands  againe  vpon  my  swordy 
Neuer  to  speake  of  this  that  you  haue  heard  : 6 
Sweare  by  my  Sword. 

Gho.    Sweare.7  Swearebyhis 

sword. 

Ham.  Well  said    old    Mole,  can'st  worke  i'th' 

ground  so  fast  ?  Ith earth 

A  worthy  Pioner,  once  more  remoue  good  friends. 
Hor.  Oh  day  and  night :  but  this  is  wondrous 

strange. 
Ham.  And    therefore    as    a   stranger   giue   it 
welcome. 
There   are   more   things   in    Heauen    and    Earth, 

Horatio, 
Then  are  dream't  of  in  our  Philosophy  But  come,    in  your 
Here  as  before,  neuer  so  helpe  you  mercy,; 
How  strange  or  odde  so  ere  I  beare  my  selfe  ;  (How  [  so  mere 

(As  I  perchance  heereafter  shall  thinke  meet  As 

178        To  put  an  Anticke  disposition  on  :)8  on 

That  you  at  such  time  seeing  me,  neuer  shall  times 

With  Armes  encombred  thus,  or  thus,  head  shake ;  or  this  head 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  61 

1  He  feels  his  honour  touched. 


2  The  Ghost's  interference  heightens  Hamlet's  agitation.  If  he  does 
not  talk,  laugh,  jest,  it  will  overcome  him.  Also  he  must  not  show  that 
he  believes  it  his  father's  ghost :  that  must  be  kept  to  himself— for  the 
present  at  least.  He  shows  it  therefore  no  respect— treats  the  whole 
thing  humorously,  so  avoiding,  or  at  least  parrying  question.  It  is  all 
he  can  do  to  keep  the  mastery  of  himself,  dodging  horror  with  half- 
forced,  half-hysterical  laughter.  Yet  is  he  all  the  time  intellectually  on 
the  alert.  See  how,  instantly  active,  he  makes  use  of  the  voice  from 
beneath  to  enforce  his  requisition  of  silence.  Very  speedily  too  he  grows 
quiet  :  a  glimmer  of  light  as  to  the  course  of  action  necessary  to  him 
has  begun  to  break  upon  him  :  it  breaks  from  his  own  wild  and  disjointed 
behaviour  in  the  attempt  to  hide  the  conflict  of  his  feelings — which 
suggests  to  him  the  idea  of  shrouding  himself,  as  did  David  at  the  court 
of  the  Philistines,  in  the  cloak  of  madness  :  thereby  protected  from  the 
full  force  of  what  suspicion  any  absorption  of  manner  or  outburst  of 
feeling  must  occasion,  he  may  win  time  to  lay  his  plans.  Note  how,  in 
the  midst  of  his  horror,  he  is  yet  able  to  think,  plan,  resolve. 

3  1st  Q.*  The  Gost  vnder  the  stage? 

4  While  Hamlet  seems  to  take  it  so  coolly,  the  others  have  fled  in 
terror  from  the  spot.  He  goes  to  them.  Their  fear  must  be  what,  on 
the  two  occasions  after,  makes  him  shift  to  another  place  when  the  Ghost 
speaks. 

5  Now  at  once  he  consents. 

6  In  the  Quarto  this  and  the  next  line  are  transposed. 

7  What  idea  is  involved  as  the  cause  of  the  Ghost's  thus  interfering  ? 
— That  he  too  sees  what  difficulties  must  encompass  the  carrying  out  of 
his  behest,  and  what  absolute  secrecy  is  thereto  essential. 


8  This  idea,  hardly  yet  a  resolve,  he  afterwards  carries  out  so  well, 
that  he  deceives  not  only  king  and  queen  and  court,  but  the  most  of  his 
critics  ever  since  :  to  this  day  they  believe  him  mad.  Such  must  have 
studied  in  the  play  a  phantom  of  their  own  misconception,  and  can  never 
have  seen  the  Hamlet  of  Shakspere.  Thus  prejudiced,  they  mistake  also 
the  effects  of  moral  and  spiritual  perturbation  and  misery  for  further  sign  of 
intellectual  disorder — even  for  proof  of  moral  weakness,  placing  them  in 
the  same  category  with  the  symptoms  of  the  insanity  which  he  simulates, 
and  by  which  they  are  deluded. 


sweare, 


62  THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Or  by  pronouncing  of  some  doubtfull  Phrase  ; 

As  well,  we  know,  or  we  could  and  if  we  would,       a* well, weu, 

we 

Or  if  we  list  to  speake  ;  or  there  be  and  if  there  ,f  they  mfcu. 

might, 
Or  such  ambiguous  giuing  out  to  note,  note) 

That  you  know  ought  of  me  ;  this  not  to  doe  :  »*> lhis  dut 

So  grace  and  mercy  at  your  most  neede  helpe  you: 
Sweare.1 

Ghost.  Sweare.2 

Ham.  Rest,  rest  perturbed  Spirit3:  so  Gentle- 
men, 
With  all  my  loue  I  doe  commend  me  to  you  ; 
And  what  so  poore  a  man  as  Hamlet  is, 
May  doe  t'expresse  his  loue  and  friending  to  you, 
God  willing  shall  not  lacke  :  let  vs  goe  in  together, 
And  still  your  fingers  on  your  lippes  I  pray, 
The  time  is  out  of  ioynt :  Oh  cursed  spight,4 
126  That  euer  I  was  borne  to  set  it  right. 

Nay,  come  let's  goe  together.  Exeunt;1 


SUMMARY   OF   ACT   I, 


This  much  of  Hamlet  we  have  now  learned  :  he  is  a  thoughtful  man, 
a  genuine  student,  little  acquainted  with  the  world  save  through  books, 
and  a  lover  of  his  kind.  His  university  life  at  Wittenberg  is  suddenly 
interrupted  by  a  call  to  the  funeral  of  his  father,  whom  he  dearly  loves  and 
honours.  Ere  he  reaches  Denmark,  his  uncle  Claudius  has  contrived, 
in  an  election  (202,  250,  272)  probably  hastened  and  secretly  influenced, 
to  gain  the  voice  of  the  representatives  at  least  of  the  people,  and  ascend 
the  throne.  Hence  his  position  must  have  been  an  irksome  one  from  the 
first  J  but,  within  a  month  of  his  father's  death,  his  mother's  marriage  with 
his  uncle — a  relation  universally  regarded  as  incestuous — plunges  him  in 
the  deepest  misery.  The  play  introduces  him  at  the  first  court  held  after 
the  wedding.  He  is  attired  in  the  mourning  of  his  father's  funeral,  which 
he  had  not  laid  aside  for  the  wedding.  His  aspect  is  of  absolute  dejection, 
and  he  appears  in  a  company  for  which  he  is  so  unfit  only  for  the  sake  of 
desiring  permission  to  leave  the  court,  and  go  back  to  his  studies  at 
Wittenberg.*     Left  to  himself,  he  breaks  out  in  agonized  and  indignant 

*  Roger  Ascham,  in  his  Scholemaster,  if  I  mistake  not,  sets  the  age,   ap  to  which  a  man 
should  be  under  tutors,  at  twenty-nine. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  63 


1  '  Svveare '  not  in  Quarto, 

'2  They  do  not  this  time  shift  their  ground,  but  swear — in  dumb  show. 

3  — for  now  they  had  obeyed  his  command  and  sworn  secrecy. 


4  '  cursed  spight  '—not  merely  that  he  had  been  born  to  do  hangman's 
work,  but  that  he  should  have  been  born  at  all— of  a  mother  whose  crime 
against  his  father  had  brought  upon  him  the  wretched  necessity  which 
must  proclaim  her  ignominy.  Let  the  student  do  his  best  to  realize  the 
condition  of  Hamlet's  heart  and  mind  in  relation  to  his  mother. 

5  This  first  act  occupies  part  of  a  night,  a  day,  and  part  of  the  next 
night. 


lamentation  over  his  mother's  conduct,  dwelling  mainly  on  her  disregard 
of  his  father's  memory.  Her  conduct  and  his  partial  discovery  of  her 
character,  is  the  sole  cause  of  his  misery.  In  such  his  mood,  Horatio, 
a  fellow-student,  brings  him  word  that  his  father's  spirit  walks  at  night. 
He  watches  for  the  Ghost,  and  receives  from  him  a  frightful  report  of  his 
present  condition,  into  which,  he  tells  him,  he  was  cast  by  the  murderous 
hand  of  his  brother,  with  whom  his  wife  had  been  guilty  of  adultery.  He 
enjoins  him  to  put  a  stop  to  the  crime  in  which  they  are  now  living,  by 
taking  vengeance  on  his  uncle.  Uncertain  at  the  moment  how  to  act,  and 
dreading  the  consequences  of  rousing  suspicion  by  the  perturbation  which 
he  could  not  but  betray,  he  grasps  at  the  sudden  idea  of  affecting  madness. 
We  have  learned  also  Hamlet's  relation  to  Ophelia,  the  daughter  of 
the  selfish,  prating,  busy  Polonius,  who,  with  his  son  Laertes,  is  des- 
tined to  work  out  the  earthly  fate  of  Hamlet.  Of  Laertes,  as  yet,  we 
only  know  that  he  prates  like  his  father,  is  self-confident,  and  was  educated 
at  Paris,  whither  he  has  returned.  Of  Ophelia  we  know  nothing  but 
that  she  is  gentle,  and  that  she  is  fond  of  Hamlet,  whose  attentions  she 
has  encouraged,  but  with  whom,  upon  her  father's  severe  remonstrance, 
she  is  ready,  outwardly  at  least,  to  break. 


64  the  traged1e  of  hamlet, 

Actus  Secundus> 

Enter  old 

Enter  Polonins,  and  Reynoldo.  Poiotuut,  with 

*  his  man  or 

two. 

Polon.  Giue  him  his  money,  and  these  notes  this  money 
Reynoldo? 

Reynol.  I  will  my  Lord. 

Polon.  You    shall    doe    maruels   wisely :    good   meruiies 
Reynoldo, 
Before  you  visite  him  you  make  inquiry  him,  to  make 

Of  his  behauiour.3 

Reynol.  My  Lord,  I  did  intend  it. 

Polon.  Marry,  well  said  ; 
Very  well  said.     Looke  you  Sir, 
Enquire  me  first  what  Danskers  are  in  Paris  ; 
And  how,  and   who ;    what    meanes  ;    and  where 

they  keepe  : 
What  company,  at  what  expence  :  and  finding 
By  this  encompassement  and  drift  of  question, 
That  they  doe  know  my  sonne :  Come  you  more 

neerer 4 
Then  your  particular  demands  will  touch  it, 
Take  you  as  'twere  some  distant  knowledge  of  him, 
And  thus  I  know  his  father  and  his  friends,  As  thus 

And  in  part  him.     Doe  you  marke  this  Reynoldo  ? 

Reynol.  I,  very  well  my  Lord. 

Polon.  And  in  part  him,  but  you  may  say  not 
well  ; 
But  ift  be  hee  I  meane,-hees  very  wilde  ; 
Addicted  so  and  so  ;  and  there  put  on  him 
What  forgeries  you  please  :  marry,  none  so  ranke, 
As  may  dishonour  him  ;  take  heed  of  that : 
But  Sir,  such  wanton,  wild,  and  vsuall  slips, 
As  are  Companions  noted  and  most  knowne  : 
To  youth  and  liberty. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  65 


1  Not  in  Quarto. 

Between  this  act  and  the  former,  sufficient  time  has  passed  to  allow 
the  ambassadors  to  go  to  Norway  and  return  :  74.  See  138,  and  what 
Hamlet  says  of  the  time  since  his  father's  death,  24,  by  which  together 
the  interval  seems  indicated  as  about  two  months,  though  surely  so  much 
time  was  not  necessary. 

Cause  and  effect  must  be  truly  presented  J  time  and  space  are  mere 
accidents,  and  of  small  consequence  in  the  drama,  whose  very  idea  is 
compression  for  the  sake  of  presentation.  All  that  is  necessary  in 
regard  to  time  is,  that,  either  by  the  act-pause,  or  the  intervention  of  a 
fresh  scene,  the  passing  of  it  should  be  indicated. 

This  second  act  occupies  the  forenoon  of  one  day. 

*  \st  Q.  Monlano,  here,  these  letters  to  my  sonne, 

And  this  same  mony  with  my  blessing  to  him, 
And  bid  him  ply  his  learning  good  Montano. 

3  The  father  has  no  confidence  in  the  son,  and  rightly,  for  both  are 
unworthy  :  he  turns  on  him  the  cunning  of  the  courtier,  and  sends  a  spy 
on  his  behaviour.  The  looseness  of  his  own  principles  comes  out  very 
clear  in  his  anxieties  about  his  son  ;  and,  having  learned  the  ideas  of  the 
father  as  to  what  becomes  a  gentleman,  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  the  son 
such  as  he  afterwards  shows  himself.  Till  the  end  approaches,  we  hear 
no  more  of  Laertes,  nor  is  more  necessary ;  but  without  this  scene  we 
should  have  been  unprepared  for  his  vileness. 


4  Point  thus :  '  son,  come  you  more  nearer ;  then  &c.'  The  then 
here  does  not  stand  for  than,  and  to  change  it  to  than  makes  at  once  a 
contradiction.  The  sense  is  :  '  Having  put  your  general  questions  first, 
and  been  answered  to  your  purpose,  then  your  particular  demands  will 
come  in,  and  be  of  service  ;  they  will  reach  to  the  point — will  touch  W 
The  it  is  impersonal.     After  it  should  come  a  period. 


66  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Reynol.  As  gaming  my  Lord. 

Polon.  I,  or  drinking,  fencing,  swearing, 
Quarelling,  drabbing.     You  may  goe  so  farre. 

Reynol.  My  Lord  that  would  dishonour  him. 

Polon.  Faith  no,  as  you  may  season   it  in  the   Fayth  as  you 
charge ; l 
You  must  not  put  another  scandall  on  him, 
That  hee  is  open  to  Incontinencie  ; 2 
That's  not  my  meaning :  but  breath  his  faults  so 

quaintly, 
That  they  may  seeme  the  taints  of  liberty ; 
The  flash  and  out-breake  of  a  fiery  minde, 
A  sauagenes  in    vnreclaim'd3   bloud    of    generall 
assault.4 

Reynol  But  my  good  Lord.5 

Polon.  Wherefore  should  you  doe  this  ? 6 

Reynol.  I  my  Lord,  I  would  know  that. 

Polon.  Marry  Sir,  heere's  my  drift, 
And  I  belieue  it  is  a  fetch  of  warrant : 7  of  wit, 

You  laying  these  slight  sulleyes8  on  my  Sonne,        sallies8 
As  'twere  a  thing  a  little  soil'd  i'th'working :  work1rTith 

Marke  you  your  party  in  conuerse ;  him  you  would 

sound, 
Hauing  euer  seene.     In  the  prenominate  crimes,       seene  in  the 
The  youth  you  breath  of  guilty,  be  assur'd 
He  closes  with  you  in  this  consequence  : 
Good  sir,  or  so,  or  friend,  or  Gentleman, 
According  to  the  Phrase  and  the  Addition,9  ,  phrase  or  the 

Of  man  and  Country. 

Reynol.  Very  good  my  Lord. 

Polon.  And  then  Sir  does  he  this  ?  doos  a  this,  a 

doos,  what 

He  does  :  what  was  I  about  to  say  ?  *as  i 

I  was  about  to  say  somthing  :  where  did  I  leaue  ?     Bythe  masse  I 

Reynol.  At  closes  in  the  consequence  : 
At  friend,  or  so,  and  Gentleman.10 


was 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  67 


1  \st  Q.  I  faith  not  a  whit,  no  not  a  whit, 

•  •  •  •  « 

As  you  may  bridle  it  not  disparage  him  a  iote. 

2  This  may  well  seem  prating  inconsistency,  but  I  suppose  means  that 
he  must  not  be  represented  as  without  moderation  in  his  wickedness. 


3  Untamed,  as  a  hawk. 

4  The  lines  are  properly  arranged  in  Q. 

A  sauagenes  in  vnreclamed  blood, 
Of  generall  assault. 
— that  is,  '  which  assails  all.' 

5  Here  a  hesitating  pause. 

6  — with  the  expression  of,  '  Is  that  what  you  would  say?' 

7  '  a  fetch  with  warrant  for  it' — a  justifiable  trick. 

8  Compare  sallied,  25,  both  Quartos ;  sallets  67,  103  ;  and  see  soiFd, 
next  line. 


Addition,'  epithet  of  courtesy  in  address. 


Q.  has  not  this  line 

f  2 


68  THE    TRAGED1E    OF  HAMLET, 

Polon.  At  closes  in  the  consequence,  I  marry, 
He  closes  with  you  thus.     I  know  the  Gentleman,    He  doses  thus, 
I  saw  him  yesterday,  or  tother  day  ;  thother 

Or  then  or  then,  with  such  and  such ;  and  as  you  say,  or  such, 
25   There  was  he  gaming,  there  o'retooke  in's  Rouse,      J£.srea  ^"SoL 
There  falling  out  at  Tennis  ;  or  perchance, 
I  saw  him  enter  such  a  house  of  saile  ;  saiej 

Videlicet,  a  Brothell,  or  so  forth.     See  you  now  ; 
Your  bait  of  falshood,  takes  this  Cape  of  truth  ;       take  this  carpe 
And  thus  doe  we  of  wisedome  and  of  reach  ' 
With  windlesses,2  and  with  assaies  of  Bias, 
By  indirections  finde  directions  out : 
So  by  my  former  Lecture  and  aduice 
Shall  you  my  Sonne  ;  you  haue  me,  haue  you  not  ? 

Reynol.  My  Lord  I  haue. 

Polon.  God  buy  you  ;  fare  you  well.  ye  1  ye 

Reynol.  Good  my  Lord. 

Polon.  Obserue  his  inclination  in  your  selfe.3 

Reynol.   I  shall  my  Lord. 

Polon.  And  let  him  4  plye  his  Musicke. 

Reynol.  Well,  my  Lord.  Exit* 

Enter  Ophelia. 

Polon.  Farewell  : 
How  now  Ophelia,  what's  the  matter  ? 

Ophe.  Alas  my  Lord,  I  haue  beene  so  affrighted,  o  my  Lord, 

Polon.  With  what,  in  the  name  of  Heauen  ?  ith  name  of 

God? 

Ophe.  My    Lord,    as    I    was    sowing   in    my 

Chamber,  ciosset, 

Lord  Hamlet  with  his  doublet  all  vnbrac'd,3 
No  hat  vpon  his  head,  his  stockings  foul'd, 
Vngartred,  and  downe  giued 6  to  his  Anckle, 
Pale  as  his  shirt,  his  knees  knocking  each  other, 
And  with  a  looke  so  pitious  in  purport, 
As  if  he  had  been  loosed  out  of  hell, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  69 


1  of  far  reaching  mind 

2  The  word  windlaces  is  explained  in  the  dictionaries  as  shifts^  subtle- 
ties— but  apparently  on  the  sole  authority  of  this  passage.  There  must  be 
a  figure  in  windlesses,  as  well  as  in  assaies  of  Bias,  which  is  a  phrase 
plain  enough  to  bowlers  :  the  trying  of  other  directions  than  that  of  the 
jack,  in  the  endeavour  to  come  at  one  with  the  law  of  the  bowl's  bias.  I 
find  wanlass  a  term  in  hunting  :  it  had  to  do  with  driving  game  to  a 
given  point —whether  in  part  by  getting  to  windward  of  it,  I  cannot 
tell.  The  word  may  come  of  the  verb  wind,  from  its  meaning  '  to  manage 
by  shifts  or  expedients'  :  Barclay.  As  he  has  spoken  of  fishing,  could  the 
windlesses  refer  to  any  little  instrument  such  as  now  used  upon  a  fishing- 
rod  ?  I  do  not  think  it.  And  how  do  the  words  windlesses  and  indi- 
rections come  together  ?  Was  a  windless  some  contrivance  for  determining 
how  the  wind  blew  ?  I  bethink  me  that  a  thin  withered  straw  is  in  Scotland 
called  a  windlestrae  :  perhaps  such  straws  were  thrown  up  to  find  out  ■  by 
indirection '  the  direction  of  the  wind. 

The  press-reader  sends  me  two  valuable  quotations,  through  Latham's 
edition  of  Johnson's  Dictionary,  from  Dr.  H.  Hammond  (1605-1660),  in 
which  windlass  is  used  as  a  verb  : — 

'A  skilful  woodsman,  by  windlassing,  presently  gets  a  shoot,  which, 
without  taking  a  compass,  and  thereby  a  commodious  stand,  he  could 
never  have  obtained.' 

'  She  is  not  so  much  at  leasure  as  to  windlace,  or  use  craft,  to  satisfy 
them.' 

To  windlace  seems  then  to  mean  ■  to  steal  along  to  leeward.'  Would  it 
be  absurd  to  suggest  that,  so-doing,  the  hunter  laces  the  wind  ?  Shakspere, 
with  many  another,  I  fancy,  speaks  of  threadi7tg  the  night  or  the  darkness. 

Johnson  explains  the  word  in  the  text  as  'A  handle  by  which  anything 
is  turned.' 

3  '  in  your  selfe,'  may  mean  either  '  through  the  insight  afforded  by 
your  own  feelings ' ;  or  '  in  respect  of  yourself,'  '  toward  yourself.'  I  do 
not  know  which  is  intended. 

4  1st  Q.  'And  bid  him' 

5  loose  ;  undone. 

6  His  stockings,  slipped  down  in  wrinkles  round  his  ankles,  suggested 
the  rings  of  gyves  or  fetters.  The  verb  gyve,  of  Which  the  passive  parti- 
ciple is  here  used,  is  rarer. 


7o  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

To  speake  of  horrors :  he  comes  before  me. 

Polon.  Mad  for  thy  Loue  ? 

Ophe.  My  Lord,  I  doe  not  know  :  but   truly  I 
do  feare  it.1 

Polon.  What  said  he  ? 

Ophe?  He  tooke  me  by  the  wrist,  and  held  me 
hard  ; 
Then  goes  he  to  the  length  of  all  his  arme  ; 
And  with  his  other  hand  thus  o're  his  brow, 
He  fals  to  such  perusall  of  my  face, 
As  he  would  draw  it.     Long  staid  he  so,  As  a 

At  last,  a  little  shaking  of  mine  Arme  : 
And  thrice  his  head  thus  wauing  vp  and  downe ; 
He  rais'd  a  sigh,  so  pittious  and  profound, 
That  it  did  seeme  to  shatter  all  his  bulke,  As  it 

And  end  his  being.     That  done,  he  lets  me  goe, 
And  with  his  head  ouer  his  shoulders  turn'd,  shoulder 

""He  seem'd  to  finde  his  way  without  his  eyes, 
For  out  adores 3  he  went  without  their  helpe  ;     ■       helps, 
And  to  the  last,  bended  their  light  on  me. 

Polon.  Goe  with  me,  I  will  goe  seeke  the  King,  come,  goe 
This  is  the  very  extasie  of  Loue, 
Whose  violent  property  foredoes 4  it  selfe, 
And  leads  the  will  to  desperate  Vndertakings, 
As  oft  as  any  passion  vnder  Heauen,  passions 

That  does  afflict  our  Natures.     I  am  sorrie, 
What  haue  you  giuen  him  any  hard  words  of  late  ? 

Ophe.  No  my  good  Lord  :  but  as  you  did  com- 
42,  82   I  did  repell  his  Letters,  and  deny'de  [mand, 

His  accesse  to  me.5 

Pol.  That  hath  made  him  mad. 
I  am  sorrie  that  with  better  speed  and  iudgement     better  heede 
83   I  had  not  quoted  6  him.     I  feare  he  did  but  trifle,      coted9)  fear'd 
And    meant    to   wracke    thee :    but   beshrew    my 
iealousie  : 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE. 


7> 


1  She  would  be  glad  her  father  should  think  so.  - 

3  a  doors,  like  an  end.    51,  175 

4  undoes,  frustrates,  destroys 

5  See  quotation  from  \st  Quarto,  43. 

6  Quoted  or  coted  :  observed ;  Fr.  coter,  to  mark  the  number.  Com- 
pare 95. 

2  The  detailed  description  of  Hamlet  and  his  behaviour  that  follows, 
must  be  introduced  in  order  that  the  side  mirror  of  narrative  may  aid  the 
front  mirror  of  drama,  and  between  them  be  given  a  true  notion  of  his 
condition  both  mental  and  bodily.  Although  weeks  have  passed  since  his 
interview  with  the  Ghost,  he  is  still  haunted  with  the  memory  of  it,  still 
broods  over  its  horrible  revelation.  That  he  had,  probably  soon,  begun 
to  feel  far  from  certain  of  the  truth  of  the  apparition,  could  not  make  the 
thoughts  and  questions  it  had  awaked,  cease  tormenting  his  whole  being. 
The  stifling  smoke  of  his  mother's  conduct  had  in,  his  mind  burst  into 
loathsome  flame,  and  through  her  he  has  all  but  lost  his  faith  in  humanity. 
To  know  his  uncle  a  villain,  was  to  know  his  uncle  a  villain  ;  to  know  his. 
mother  false,  was  to  doubt  women,  doubt  the  whole  world. 

In  the  meantime  Ophelia,  in  obedience  to  her  father,  and  evidently 
without  reason  assigned,  has  broken  off  communication  with  him  :  he- 
reads  her  behaviour  by  the  lurid  light  of  his  mother's.  She  too  is  false  ! 
she  too  is  heartless  !  he  can  look  to  her  for  no  help  !  She  has  turned 
against  him  to  curry  favour  with  his  mother  and  his  uncle  ! 

Can  she  be  such  as  his  mother!  Why  should  she  not  be?  His 
mother  had  seemed  as  good  !  H.e  would  give  his  life  to  know  her  honest 
and  pure.  Might  he  but  believe  her  what  he  had  believed  her,  he  would 
yet  have  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  a  covert  from,  the  tempest  !  If 
he  could  but  know  the  truth  !  Alone  with  her  once  more  but  for  a  moment,, 
he  would  read  her  very  soul  by  the  might  of  his  !  He  must  see  her  !  He 
would  see  her  !  In  the  agony  of  a  doubt  upon  which  seemed  to  hang  the 
bliss  or  bale  of  his  being,  yet  not  altogether  unintimidated  by  a  sense  of 
his  intrusion,  he  walks  into  the  house  of  Polonius,  and  into  the  chamber 
of  Ophelia. 

Ever  since  the  night  of  the  apparition,  the  court,  from  the  behaviour 
assumed  by  Hamlet,  has  believed  his  mind  affected  ;  and  when  he  enters, 
her  room,  Ophelia,  though  such  is  the  insight  of  love  that  she  is  able  to. 
read  in  the  face  of  the  son  the  father's  purgatorial  sufferings,  the  picture 
of  one  '  loosed  out  of  hell,  to  speak  of  horrors,'  attributes  all  the  strange- 
ness of  his  appearance  and  demeanour,  such  as  she  describes  them  to 
her  father,  to  that  supposed  fact.  But  there  is,  in.  truth,  as  little  of 
affected  as  of  actual  madness  in  his  behaviour  in.  her  presence.  When, 
he  comes  before  her  pale  and  trembling,  speechless  and  with  staring  eyes,, 
it  is  with  no  simulated  insanity,  but  in  the  agonized  hope,  scarce  dis- 
tinguishable from  despair,  of  finding,  in  the  testimony  of  her  visible 
presence,  an  assurance  that  the  doubts  ever  tearing  his  spirit  and  sick- 
ening his  brain,  are  but  the  offspring  of  his  phantasy.  There  she  sits  ! — 
and  there  he  stands,  vainly  endeavouring  through  her  eyes  to  read  her 
soul !  for,  alas, 

there's  no  art 
To  find  the  mind's  construction  in  the  face  ! 

— until  at  length,  finding  himself  utterly  baffled,  but  unable,  save  by  the 


72  THE    TR AGE DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

It  seemcs  it  is  as  proper  to  our  Age,  By  heauen  it  is 

To  cast  beyond  our  selues '  in  our  Opinions, 

As  it  is  common  for  the  yonger  sort 

To  lacke  discretion.2     Come,  go  we  to  the  King, 

This    must   be    knowne,  which  being   kept   close 

might  moue 
More  greefe  to  hide,  then  hate  to  vtter  loue.3 

r-  .  Come. 

Exeunt. 
Scena    Secunda* 
Enter  King,  Queene,  Rosincrane,  and  Guildensterne  Fiorish: Ent$r 

King  and 
Ctim  CllijS.  Queene, 

■J  Kosencraus 

and  Guylden- 

King.  Welcome  deere  Rosincrance  and  Guilden-  stn 

sterne. 
Moreouer,6  that  we  much  did  long  to  see  you, 
The  neede  we  haue  to  vse  you,  did  prouoke 
92   Our  hastie  sending.7     Something  haue  you  heard 

Of  Hamlets  transformation  :  so  I  call  it,  so  caii 

Since  not  th'exterior,  nor  the  inward  man  sith  nor 

Resembles  that  it  was.     What  it  should  bee 

More  then  his  Fathers  death,  that  thus  hath  put  him 

So  much  from  th'vnderstanding  of  himselfe, 

I  cannot  deeme  of.8     I  intreat  you  both,  dreamt 

That  being  of  so  young  dayes 9  brought  vp  with 

him  : 
And  since  so  Neighbour'd  to10  his  youth,  and  humour,  And  sith  | 

and  hauicr, 

That  you  vouchsafe  your  rest  heere  in  our  Court 
Some  little  time  :  so  by  your  Companies 
To  draw  him  on  to  pleasures,  and  to  gather 
1 6   So  much  as  from  Occasions  you  may  gleane,  occasion 

That  open'd  lies  within  our  remedie.11 


Here  in  the  Quarto ;  — 
Whether  ought  to  vs  vnknowne  afflicts  him  thus, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  73 

removal  of  his  person,  to  take  his  eyes  from  her  face,  he  retires  speech- 
less as  he  came.  Such  is  the  man  whom  we  are  now  to  see  wandering  about 
the  halls  and  corridors  of  the  great  castle-palace. 

He  may  by  this  time  have  begun  to  doubt  even  the  reality  of  the 
sight  he  had  seen.  The  moment  the  pressure  of  a  marvellous  presence 
is  removed,  it  is  in  the  nature  of  man  the  same  moment  to  begin  to  doubt ; 
and  instead  of  having  any  reason  to  wish  the  apparition  a  true  one,  he 
had  every  reason  to  desire  to  believe  it  an  illusion  or  a  lying  spirit.  Great 
were  his  excuse  even  if  he  forced  likelihoods,  and  suborned  witnesses  in 
the  court  of  his  own  judgment.  To  conclude  it  false  was  to  think  his  father 
in  heaven,  and  his  mother  not  an  adulteress,  not  a  murderess  !  At  once 
to  kill  his  uncle  would  be  to  seal  these  horrible  things  irrevocable,  indis- 
putable facts.  Strongest  reasons  he  had  for  not  taking  immediate  action  in 
vengeance  ;  but  no  smallest  incapacity  for  action  had  share  in  his  delay. 
The  Poet  takes  recurrent  pains,  as  if  he  foresaw  hasty  conclusions,  to  show 
his  hero  a  man  of  promptitude,  with  this  truest  fitness  for  action,  that  he 
would  not  make  unlawful  haste.  Without  sufficing  assurance,  he  would 
have  no  part  in  the  fate  either  of  the  uncle  he  disliked  or  the  mother  he 
loved. 

1  '  to  be  overwise— to  overreach  ourselves  ' 

'  ambition,  which  o'erleaps  itself,' — Macbeth  >  act  i.  sc.  7. 

2  Polonius  is  a  man  of  faculty.  His  courtier-life,  his  self-seeking,  his 
vanity,  have  made  and  make  him  the  fool  he  is. 

3  He  hopes  now  to  get  his  daughter  married  to  the  prince. 

We  have  here  a  curious  instance  of  Shakspere's  not  unfrequently 
excessive  condensation.  Expanded,  the  clause  would  be  like  this  : 
'  which,  being  kept  close,  might  move  more  grief  by  the  hiding  of  love, 
than  to  utter  love  might  move  hate  : '  the  grief  in  the  one  case  might  be 
greater  than  the  hate  in  the  other  would  be.  It  verges  on  confusion,  and 
may  not  be  as  Shakspere  wrote  it,  though  it  is  like  his  way. 
\st  Q.  Lets  to  the  king,  this  madnesse  may  prooue, 

Though  wilde  a  while,  yet  more  true  to  thy  loue. 
A  Not  in  Quarto. 

5  Q.  has  not  Cum  alijs. 

6  '  Moreover  that  &c. ' :  moreover  is  here  used  as  a  preposition,  with 
the  rest  of  the  clause  for  its  objective. 

7  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne  are,  from  the  first  and  throughout, 
the  creatures  of  the  king., 

8  The  king's  conscience  makes'  him  suspicious  of  Hamlet's  suspicion. 

9  '  from  such  an  early  age  ' 

10  (  since  then  so  familiar  with  ' 


11  '  to  gather  as  much  as  you  may  glean  from  opportunities,  of  that 
which,  when  disclosed  to  us,  will  He  within  our  remedial  power.'  If 
the  line  of  the  Quarto  be  included,  it  makes  plainer  construction.  The 
line  beginning  with  l  So  much]  then  becomes  parenthetical,  and  to  gather 
will  not  immediately  govern  that  line,  but  the  rest  of  the  sentence. 


74  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Qu.  Good  Gentlemen,  he  hath  much  talk'd  of 
you, 
And  sure  I  am,  two  men  there  are  not  liuing,  there  is  not 

To   whom   he   more   adheres.     If    it   will    please 

you 
To  shew  vs  so  much  Gentrie,1  and  good  will, 
As  to  expend  your  time  with  vs  a-while, 
For  the  supply  and  profit  of  our  Hope,2 
Your  Visitation  shall  receiue  such  thankes 
As  fits  a  Kings  remembrance. 

Rosin.  Both  your  Maiesties 
Might  by  the  Soueraigne  power  you  haue  of  vs, 
Put  your  dread  pleasures,  more  into  Command 
Then  to  Entreatie. 

Guil.  We  both 3  obey,  But  we 

And  here  giue  vp  our  selues,  in  the  full  bent,4 
To  lay  our  Seruices  freely  at  your  feete,  sendee 

To  be  commanded. 

King.  Thankes  Rosincrance,  and  gentle  Guilden- 
sterne. 

Qu.  Thankes.  Giiildensterne  and  gentle  Rosin- 
crance? 
And  I  beseech  you;  instantly  to  visit 
My  too  much  changed  Sonne. 

Go  some  of  ye,  you 

And  bring  the  Gentlemen  where  Hamlet  is.  bring  these 

Guil.  Heauens   make   our   presence   and    our 
practises 
Pleasant  and  helpfull  to  him..  Exit? 

Queene.  Amen.  l  Amen,  ex- 

eitnt  Ros. 


Enter  Polonius. 

18         Pol.  Th'Ambassadors  from  Norwey,  my  good 
Lord, 
Are  ioyfully  return'd. 


and  Guyld. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  75 


gentleness,  grace,  favour 

Their  hope  in  Hamlet,  as  their  son  and  heir. 


3  both  majesties. 

4  If  we  put  a  comma  after  bent,  the  phrase  will  mean  '  in  the  full 
purpose  or  design  to  lay  our  services  &c.'  Without  the  comma,  the  con- 
tent of  the  phrase  would  be  general  : — '  in  the  devoted  force  of  our 
faculty.'     The  latter  is  more  like  Shakspere. 


5  Is  there  not  tact  intended  in  the  queen's  reversal  of  her  husband's 
arrangement  of  the  two  names — that  each  might  have  precedence,  and 
neither  take  offence  ? 


Not  in  Quarto. 


76  THE    TRAGED1E    OF  HAMLET, 

King.  Thou  still  hast  bin  the  Father  of  good 

Nevves. 
Pol.  Haue  I,  my  Lord?1  Assure  you,  my  good  i  assure  my 
Liege, 
I  hold  my  dutie,  as  I  hold  my  Soule, 

Both  to  my  God,  one  to  my  gracious  King  : 2  God,  and  to" 

And  I  do  thinke,  or  else  this  braine  of  mine 
Hunts  not  the  traile  of  Policie,  so  sure 
As  I  haue  vs'd  to  do  :  that  I  haue  found  it  hath  vsd 

The  very  cause  of  Hamlets  Lunacie. 

King.  Oh  speake  of  that,  that  I   do  long  to  doeiiong 

heare. 
Pol.  Giue  first  admittance  to  th'Ambassadors, 
My  Newes  shall  be  the  Newes  to  that  great  Feast,    the  froite  to 

b  that 

King.  Thy  selfe  do  grace  to   them,  and  bring 
them  in. 
He  tels  me  my  sweet  Queene,  that  he  hath  found      my  deere 

Gertrard  he 

The  head 3  and  sourse  of  all  your  Sonnes  distemper. 

Qu.  I  doubt  it  is  no  other,  but  the  maine, 
His  Fathers  death,  and  our  o're-hasty  Marriage.4       ourhastie 

Enter  Polonius,  Voltumand,  and  Cornelius.  Enter 

Embassadors. 

King.  Well,  we  shall  sift  him.     Welcome  good  my  good 
Frends : 
Say  Voltumand,  what  from  our  Brother  Norwey  ? 

Volt.  Most  faire  returne  of  Greetings,  and  De- 
sires. 
Vpon  our  first,5  he  sent  out  to  suppresse 
His  Nephewes  Leuies,  which  to  him  appear'd 
To  be  a  preparation  'gainst  the  Poleak  :  i^oiiacke, 

But  better  look'd  into,  he  truly  found 
It  was  against  your  Highnesse,  whereat  greeued,, 
That  so  his  Sicknesse,  Age,  and  Impotence 
Was  falsely  borne  in  hand,fi  sends 7  out  Arrests 
On  Fortinbras,  which  he  (in  breefe)  obeyesy 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


77 


1  To  be  spoken  triumphantly,  but  in  the  peculiar  tone  of  one  thinking, 
You  little  know  what  better  news  I  have  behind  ! ' 


2  I  cannot  tell  which  is  the  right  reading ;  if  the  Q.'s,  it  means, 
*  /  hold  my  duty  precious  as  my  soul,  whether  to  my  God  or  viy  king'' ; 
if  the  F.'s,  it  is  a  little  confused  by  the  attempt  of  Polonius  to  make  a 
fine  euphuistic  speech  : — '  I  hold  my  duty  as  I  hold  my  soul — both  at  the 
command  of  my  God,  o?ie  at  the  command  of  my  king? 


3  the  spring  ;  the  river-head 

'  The  spring,  the  head,  the  fountain  of  y&tir  blood  ' 

Macbeth,  act  ii.  sc.  $: 

4  She  goes  a  step  farther  than  the  king  in  accounting  for  Hamlet*s 
misery — knows  there  is  more  cause  of  it  yet,  but  hopes  he  does  not 
know  so  much  cause  for  misery  as  he  might  know, 


*  Either  '  first '  stands  for  first  desire,  or  it  is  a  noun,  and  the  mean- 
ing  of  the  phrase  is,  '  The  instant  we  mentioned  the  matter  \ 


6  '  borne  in  hand ' — played  with,  taken  advantage  o£ 

1  How  you  were  borne  in  hand,  how  cross'd,' 

Macbeth^  act  iii.  sc.  t. 

7  The  nominative  pronoun  was  not  quite  indispensable  to  the  verb  in 
Shakspere's  time. 


78  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Receiues  rebuke  from  Norwey  :  and  in  fine, 

Makes  Vow  before  his  Vnkle,  neuer  more 

To  giue  th'assay  of  Armes  against  your  Maiestie. 

Whereon  old  Norwey,  ouercome  with  ioy, 

Giues  him  three  thousand  Crownes  in  Annuall  Fee,  threescore 

.  .11  r~.  thousand 

And  his  Commission  to  imploy  those  Soldiers 
So  leuied  as  before,  against  the  Poleak  :  Poiiacke, 

With  an  intreaty  heerein  further  shewne, 
190     That  it  might  please  you  to  giue  quiet  passe 

Through  your  Dominions,  for  his  Enterprize,  for  this 

On  such  regards  of  safety  and  allowance, 
As  therein  are  set  downe. 
King.  It  likes  vs  well  : 
And  at  our  more  consider'd  l  time  wee'l  read, 
Answer,  and  thinke  vpon  this  Businesse. 
Meane  time  we  thanke  you,  for  your  well-tooke 

Labour. 
Go  to  your  rest,  at  night  wee'l  Feast  together.2 
Most  welcome  home.  Exit  Ambass.  Exeunt 

Pol.  This  businesse  is  very  well  ended.3  is  well 

My  Liege,  and  Madam,  to  expostulate  4 
What  Maiestie  should  be,  what  Dutie  is,5 
Why  day  is  day  ;  night,  night ;  and  time  is  time, 
Were  nothing  but  to  waste  Night,  Day  and  Time. 
Therefore,  since  Breuitie  is  the  Soule  of  Wit,  Therefore 

.  breuitie 

And  tediousnesse,  the  limbes  and  outward  flour- 
ishes,6 

I  will  be  breefe.     Your  Noble  Sonne  is  mad  : 

Mad  call  I  it ;  for  to  define  true  Madnesse, 

What  is't,  but  to  be  nothing  else  but  mad.7 

But  let  that  go. 

Qu.  More  matter,  with  lesse  Art.8 

Pol.  Madam,  I  sweare  I  vse  no  Art  at  all  : 

That  he  is  mad,  'tis  true  :  'Tis  true  'tis  pittie,  hee's  mad 

And  pittie  it  is  true  :  A  foolish  figure,9  pitty  tis  tis 

true. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  79 


1  time  given  up  to,   or  filled  with  consideration  \  or,  perhaps,  time 
chosen  for  a  purpose. 


2  He  is  always  feasting. 

3  Now  for  his  turn  !     He  sets  to  work  at  once  with  his  rhetoric. 

4  to  lay  down  beforehand  as  postulates 

5  We  may  suppose  a  dash  and  pause  after  ■  Dutie  is '.     The  meaning 
is  plain  enough,  though  logical  form  is  wanting. 


6  As  there  is  no  imagination  in  Polonius,  we  cannot  look  for  great 
aptitude  in  figure. 

7  The  nature  of  madness  also  is  a  postulate. 

8  She  is  impatient,  but  wraps  her  rebuke  in  a  compliment.  Art,  so- 
called,  in  speech,  was  much  favoured  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth.  And  as 
a  compliment  Polonius  takes  the  form  in  which  she  expresses  her  dis- 
like of  his  tediousness,  and  her  anxiety  after  his  news  :  pretending  to 
wave  it  off,  he  yet,  in  his  gratification,  coming  on  the  top  of  his  excite- 
ment with  the  importance  of  his  fancied  discovery,  plunges  immediately 
into  a  very  slough  of  art,  and  becomes  absolutely  silly. 

9  It  is  no  figure  at  all.     It  is  hardly  even  a  play  with  the  ^vords. 


So  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

But  farewell  it :  for  I  will  vse  no  Art. 

Mad  let  vs  grant  him  then  :  and  now  remaines 

That  we  finde  out  the  cause  of  this  effect, 

Or  rather  say,  the  cause  of  this  defect  ; 

For  this  effect  defectiue,  comes  by  cause, 

Thus  it  remaines,  and  the  remainder  thus.  Perpend, 

I  haue  a  daughter  :  haue,  whil'st  she  is  mine,  while 

Who  in  her  Dutie  and  Obedience,  marke, 

Hath  giuen  me  this  :  now  gather,  and  surmise. 

The  Letter} 
To   the   Celestially  and  my   Souks  /doll,  the  most 

beautified  Ophelia. 
That's    an    ill  Phrase,   a   vilde  Phrase,    beautified 
is  a  vilde  Phrase :  but  you  shall  heare  these  in  her  thus  in  her 
excellent  white  bosome,  these.2  these,  &c; 

Qu.  Came  this  from  Hamlet  to  her. 

Pol.  Good  Madam  stay  awhile,  I  will  be  faithfull. 
Doubt  thou,  the  Starves  are  fire,  Letter. 

Doubt,  that  the  Sunne  doth  moue  ; 
Doubt  Truth  to  be  a  Lier> 
But  neuer  Doubt,  L  loue? 

O  deere  Ophelia,  L  am  ill  at  these  Numbers :  L 
haue  not  A  rt  to  reckon  my  grones  ;  but  that  I  loue 
thee  best,  oh  most  Best  beleeue  it.     Adieu. 

Thine  euermore  most  deere  Lady,  whilst  this 

Machine  is  to  him,  Hamlet. 

This  in  Obedience  hath  my  daughter  shew'd  me  :     Poi.  This  i 

*  .  showne 

And  more  aboue  hath  his  soliciting,  more  about  | 

sohcitings 

As  they  fell  out  by  Time,  by  Meanes,  and  Place, 
All  giuen  to  mine  eare. 

King.  But  how  hath  she  receiu'd  his  Loue  ? 

Pol.  What  do  you  thinke  of  me  ? 

King.  As  of  a  man,  faithfull  and  Honourable. 

Pol.  I  wold  faine  proue  so.     But  what  might 
you  think  ? 


PRINCE   OF  DENMARKE.  Si 


Not  in  Quarto? 


2  Point  thus  :  '  but  you  shall  heare.  These,  in  her  excellent  white  bosom, 
these  : ' 

Ladies,,  we  are  informed,  wore  a  small  pocket  in  front  of  the  bodice  ; — 
but  to  accept  the  fact  as  an  explanation  of  this  passage,  is  to  cast  the  pas- 
sage away.  Hamlet  addresses  his  letter,  not  to  Ophelia's  pocket,  but  to 
Ophelia  herself,  at  her  house — that  is,  in  the  palace  of  her  bosom,  excellent 
in  whiteness.  In  like  manner,  signing  himself,  he  makes  mention  of  his 
body  as  a  machine  of  which  he  has  the  use  for  a  time.  So  earnest  is 
Hamlet  that  when  he  makes  love,  he  is  the  more  a  philosopher.  But  he 
is  more  than  a  philosopher  :  he  is  a  man  of  the  Universe,  not  a  man  of 
this  world  only. 

We  must  not  allow  the  fashion  of  the  time  in  which  the  play  was 
written,  to  cause  doubt  as  to  the  genuine  heartiness  of  Hamlet's  love- 
making. 

3  ist  Q.  Doubt  that  in  earth  is  fire, 

Doubt  that  the  starres  doe  moue, 
Doubt  trueth  to  be  a  liar, 
But  doe  not  doubt  I  loue. 


82  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

When  I  had  seene  this  hot  loue  on  the  wing, 

As  I  perceiued  it,  I  must  tell  you  that 

Before  my  Daughter  told  me,  what  might  you 

Or  my  deere  Maiestie  your  Queene  heere,  think, 

If  I  had  playd  the  Deske  or  Table-booke,1 

Or  giuen  my  heart  a  winking,  mute  and  dumbe,  working 

Or  look'd  vpon  this  Loue,  with  idle  sight,2 

What  might  you  thinke  ?     No,   I  went  round  to 

worke, 
And  (my  yong  Mistris)  thus  I  did  bespeake3 
Lord  Hamlet  is  a  Prince  out  of  thy  Starre,4 
This  must  not  be  : 5   and  the^n,  I  Precepts  gaue  i  prescripts 

tier, 
That  she  should  locke  her  selfe  from  his  Resort,        from  her 
42<5j  43?  70  Admit  no  Messengers,  receiue  no  Tokens  : 

Which  done,  -she  tooke  the  Fruijtes  of  my  Aduice,7 

And  he  repulsed.     A  short  Tale  to  make>  repcird,  a 

Fell  into  a  Sadnesse, ,then  into  a  Fast/ 

Thence  to  a  Watch,  thence  into  a  Weaknesse,,  to  a  wath, 

Thence  to  a  Lightnesse,  and  by  this  declension         to  hghtnes 

Into  the  Madnesse  whereon  now  he  raues,  wherein 

An.d  all  we  waile  for,9  moume  for. 

King.  Do  you  thinke  'tis  this  ?10  thinke  this? 

Qn.  It  may  be  very  likely.  like 

Pol.  Hath  there  bene  such  a  time^   I'de  (ain  1. would 
know  that, 
That  I  haue  possitiuely  said,  'tis  soj 
When  it  prou'd  otherwise  ? 

King.  Not  that  I  know. 

Pol.  Take  this  from  this11  ;   if  this  be  other* 
wise, 
If  Circumstances  leade  me,  I  will  finde 
Where  truth  is  hid,  though  it  were  hid  indeede 
Within  the  Center. 

King.  How  may  we  try  it  further  ? 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE. 


83 


1  — behaved  like  a  piece  of  furniture 

2  The  love  of  talk  makes  a  man   use  many  idle  words,  foolish  ex- 
pressions, and  useless  repetitions. 


3  Notwithstanding  the  parenthesis,  I  take  '  Mistris '  to  be  the  ob- 
jective to  'bespeake' — that  is,  address. 

4  Star,  mark  of  sort  or  quality  ;  brand  (45).    The  1st  Q.  goes  on — 

And  one  that  is  vnequall  for  your  loue : 
But  it  may  mean,  as  suggested  by  my  Reader,  '  outside  thy  destiny,' — 
as  ruled  by  the  star  of  nativity— and  I  think  it  does. 

6  Here  is  a  change  from  the  impression  conveyed  in  the  first  act  :  he 
attributes  his  interference  to  his  care  for  what  befitted  royalty ;  whereas, 
talking  to  Ophelia  (40,  72),  he  attributes  it  entirely  to  his  care  for  her  ; — 
so  partly  in  the  speech  correspondent  to  the  present  in  1st  Q.  : — 

Now  since  which  time,  seeing  his  loue  thus  cross'd, 
Which  I  tooke  to  be  idle,  and  but  sport, 
He  straitway  grew  into  a  melancholy, 

6  See  also  passage  in  note  from  1st  Q. 

7  She  obeyed  him.  The  'fruits'  of  his  advice  were  her  conformed 
actions. 

8  When  the  appetite  goes,  and  the  sleep  follows,  doubtless  the  man 
is  on  the  steep  slope  of  madness.  But  as  to  Hamlet,  and  how  matters 
were  with  him,  what  Polonius  says  is  worth  nothing. 

9  '  wherein  now  he  raves,  and  where/or  all  we  wail.' 
10  To  the  queen. 


head  from  shoulders 


84  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Pol.  You  know  sometimes 
He  walkes  foure  houres  together,  heere ' 
In  the  Lobby. 

Qu.  So  he  ha's  indeed.  hedooes 

indeede. 

118         Pol.  At  such  a  time  He  loose  my  Daughter  to 
him, 
Be  you  and  I  behinde  an  Arras  then, 
Marke  the  encounter  :  If  he  loue  her  not, 
And  be  not  from  his  reason  falne  thereon  ; 
Let  me  be  no  Assistant  for  a  State, 

And  keepe  a  Farme  and  Carters.  Bmkeepe 

King.  We  will  try  it. 

Enter  Hamlet  reading  on  a^Booke? 

Qu.  But  looke  where  sadly  the  poore  wretch 
Comes  reading.3 

Pol.  Away  I  do  beseech  you,  both  away, 
He  boord 4  him  presently.         Exit  King  &  Queen!" 
Oh  giue   me    leaue.6     How   does   my  good   Lord 
Hamlet  ? 
Ham.  Well,  God-a-mercy. 
Pol.  Do  you  know  me,  my  Lord  ? 
180         Ham.  Excellent,  excellent  well  :  y'are  a  Fish-   Excellent  well, 

*  you  are 

monger.7 

Pol.  Not  I  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Then  I  would  you  were  so  honest  a 
man, 

Pol,  Honest,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham,  I  sir,  to  be  honest  as  this  world  goes,  is 
to  bee  one  man  pick'd  out  of  two  thousand.  «snne 

thousand. 

Pol,  That's  very  true,  my  Lord. 

Ham?  For  if  the  Sun  breed  Magots  in  a  dead 

dogge,  being  a  good  kissing  Carrion 10  carrion.   Have 

Haue  you  a  daughter?  n 

Pol.  I  haue  my  Lord. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  85 


1   \st  Q.  The  Princes  walke  is  here  in  the  galery, 
There  let  O/etia,  walke  vntill  hee  comes  : 
Your  selfe  and  I  will  stand  close  in  the  study, 


2  Not  in  Quarto. 

3  1st  Q. — King,  see  where  hee  comes  poring  vppon  a  booke. 


4  The  same  as  accost,  both  meaning  originally  go  to  the  side  of. 

5  A  li?ie  back  in  the  Quarto. 

6  '  Please  you  to  go  away.'  89,  203,  Here  should  come  the  preceding 
stage-direction. 

7  Now  first  the  Play  shows  us  Hamlet  in  his  affected  madness.  He 
has  a  great  dislike  to  the  selfish,  time-serving  courtier,  who,  like  his 
mother,  has  forsaken  the  memory  of  his  father — and  a  great  distrust  of 
him  as  well.  The  two  men  are  moral  antipodes.  Each  is  given  to 
moralizing — but  compare  their  reflections  :  those  of  Polonius  reveal  a 
lover  of  himself,  those  of  Hamlet  a  lover  of  his  kind  ;  Polonius  is  inter- 
ested in  success  ;  Hamlet  in  humanity. 

8  So  also  in  \st  Q. 

9  — reading,  or  pretending  to  read,  the  words  from  the  book  he  carries. 

10  When  the  passion  for  emendation  takes  possession  of  a  man,  his 
opportunities  are  endless— so  many  seeming  emendations  offer  them- 
selves which  are  in  themselves  not  bad,  letters  and  words  affording  as 
much  play  as  the  keys  of  a  piano.  '  Being  a  god  kissing  carrion,'  is  in 
itself  good  enough  ;  but  Shakspere  meant  what  stands  in  both  Quarto 
and  Folio  :  the  dead  dog  bei?ig  a  carrion  good  at  kissing.  The  arbitrary 
changes  of  the  editors  are  amazing. 

11  He  cannot  help  his  mind  constantly  turning  upon  women  ;  and  if  his 
thoughts  of  them  are  often  cruelly  false,  it  is  not  Hamlet  but  his  mother 
who  is  to  blame :  her  conduct  has  hurled  him  from  the  peak  of  optimism 
into  the  bottomless  pool  of  pessimistic  doubt,  above  the  foul  waters  of 
which  he  keeps  struggling  to  lift  his  head. 


$6  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  Let  her  not  walke  i'th'Sunne :  Concep- 
tion !  is  a  blessing,  but   not  as  your  daughter  may   but  as  your 
conceiue.     Friend  looke  too't. 

Pol.2  How  say  you  by  that  ?     Still  harping  on 
my  daughter:  yet  he  knew  me  not  at  first ;  he  said  asayd  i 
I  was  a  Fishmonger  :  he  is  farre  gone,  farre  gone :   Fishmonger,  a 

is  farre  gone, 

and  truly  in  my  youth,  I  suffred  much  extreamity  and  tru'y 
for   loue  :    very  neere   this*       He   speake    to   him 


What  do  you  read  my  Lord? 
Ham.  Words,  words,  words.. 
Pol.  What  is  the  matter,  my  Lord  ? 
Ham.  Betweene  who  ? 3 
Pol.  I    meane    the    matter    you.    meane,.  my  matter  that  you 

reade  my 

Lord. 

Ham.  Slanders  Sir  :    for   the    Satyricall   slaue  ;feersica11  rogue 
saies  here,  that  old  men  haue  gray  Beards  ;  that 
their  faces  are  wrinkled  ;  their  eyes  purging  thicke 
Amber,  or  Plum-Tree  Gumme :  and  that  they  haue  Amber,  and 
a  plentifull  locke    of   Wit,    together   with   weake   lacke  I  wi,th 

x  °  most  weake 

Hammes.  All  which  Sir,  though  I  most  power- 
fully, and  potently  beleeue ;  yet  I  holde  it  not 
Honestie 4   to  haue  it  thus  set  downe :    For   you  for  your  seife 

sir  shall  growe 

your  selfe  Sir,  should  be  old  as  I  am,  if  like  a  Crab  old  as  l  am : 
you  could  go  backward. 

Pol,  5  Though  this  be  madnesse, 
Yet  there  is  Method  in't  :  will  you  walke 
Out  of  the  ayre 6  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Into  my  Graue  ? 

Pol.  Indeed  that  is  out  o'th'Ayre  :  that's  out  ot 

the  ayre  ; 

How  pregnant  (sometimes)  his  Replies  are  ? 

A  happinesse, 

That  often  Madnesse  hits  on, 

Which  Reason  and  Sanitie  could  not  sanctity 

So  prosperously  be  deliuer'd  of. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  87 

1  One  of  the  meanings  of  the  word,  and  more  in  use  then  than  now,  is 
understanding. 

■  {aside) 


-pretending  to  take  him  to  mean  by  matter,  the  point  of  quarrel. 


4  Propriety 

5  (aside) 

6  the  draught 


88  THE    TRAGEDTE    OF  HAMLET, 

*  I  will  lcauc  him, 

And  sodainely  contriue  the  m.eanes  of  meeting 

Betweene  him,1  |  and  my  daughter. 

My  Honourable  Lord,  I  will  most  humbly 

Take  my  leaue  of  you. 

Ham.  You  cannot  Sir  take  from  2  me  any  thing, 

^      will  not  more  | 

that  I  will  more  willingly  part  withall,  except  my  my  life>  excei'c 
life,  my  life.3  £•*£ 

7        *  Lrtiyldersterne, 

Polon.  Fare  you  well  my  Lord.  craJ.°sen' 

Ham.  These  tedious  old  fooles. 

Polon.  You  goe  to    seeke   my   Lord  Hamlet ;  the  Lord 
there  hee  is. 

Enter  Rosincran  and  Guildensteme* 

Rosin.  God  saue  you  Sir. 

Guild.  Mine  honour'd  Lord  ? 

Rosin.  My  most  deare  Lord  ? 

Ham.  My  excellent  good  friends  ?     How  do'st  My  extent 

good 

thou  Guildensterne  ?    Oh,  Rosincrane  ;.  good.  Lads  :  a  Rosencrau*, 
How  doe  ye  both  ?  you 

Rosin.  As  the  indifferent  Children  of  the  earth. 

Guild.  Happy,  in  that  we  are  not  ouer-happy  :  euerhaPPyon 
on  Fortunes  Cap,  we  are  not  the  very  Button.  Fortunes 

Ham.  Nor  the  Soales  of  her  Shoo? 

Rosin.  Neither  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Then  you  Hue  about  her  waste,  or  in  the 
middle  of  her  fauour  ?  fauors. 

Gnil.  Faith,  her  priuates,  we. 

Ham.  In  the  secret  parts  of  Fortune  ?     Oh, 
most  true:  she  is  a  Strumpet.5    What's  the  newes  ?  whatnewes? 

Rosin.  None   my   Lord  ;  but  that  the  World's  but  the 
growne  honest. 

Ham.  Then   is  Doomesday  neere  :    But   your 


*  In  the  Quarto,  the  speech  ends  thus  :. — 

I  will  leaue  him  and  my  daughter.1     My  Lord,  I  will  take  my  leaue 
of  you. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  89 


Frojn  *  And  sodainely  '  to  '  betweene  him,'  not  in  Quarto. 


2  It  is  well  here  to  recall  the  modes  of  the  word  leave :  '  Give  me 
leave]  Polonius  says  with  proper  politeness  to  the  king  and  queen  when 
he  wants  them  to  go — that  is,  '  Grant  me  your  departure ' ;  but  he  would, 
going  himself,  take  his  leave,  his  departure,  of  or  from  them — by  their 
permission  to  go.  Hamlet  means,  '  You  cannot  take  from  me  anything 
I  will  more  willingly  part  with  than  your  leave,  or,  my  permission  to 
you  to  go.'  85,  203.  See  the  play  on  the  two  meanings  of  the  word  in 
Twelfth  Night,  act  ii.  sc.  4  : 

Duke.  Give  me  now  leave  to  leave  thee  ; 

though  I  suspect  it  ought  to  be— 

Duke.  Give  me  now  leave. 

Clown.  To  leave  thee  ! — Now,  the  melancholy  &c. 

3  It  is  a  relief  to  him  to  speak  the  truth  under  the  cloak  of  madness — 
ravingly.  He  has  no  one  to  whom  to  open  his  heart :  what  lies  there  he 
feels  too  terrible  for  even  the  eye  of  Horatio.  He  has  not  apparently 
told  him  as  yet  more  than  the  tale  of  his  father's  murder. 

4  Above,  in  Quarto. 


5  In  this  and  all  like  utterances  of  Hamlet,  we  see  what  worm  it  is 
that  lies  gnawing  at  his  heart. 


This  is  a  slip  in  the  Quarto-  rectified  in  the  Folio  :  his  daughter  was  not  present. 


9o  THE    TR  AG  ED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

newes  is  not  true.1  |  2  Let  me  question  more  in  par- 
ticular :  what  haue  you  my  good  friends,  deserued 
at  the  hands  of  Fortune,  that  she  sends  you  to 
Prison  hither  ? 

GuiL  Prison,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Denmark's  a  Prison. 

Rosin.  Then  is  the  World  one. 

Ham.  A  goodly  one,  in  which  there  are  many 
Confines,  Wards,  and  Dungeons  ;  Denmarke  being 
one  o'th'worst. 

Rosin.  We  thinke  not  so  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Why  then  'tis  none  to  you  ;  for  there  is 
nothing  either  good;  or  bad,  but  thinking  makes  it 
so3 :  to  me  it  is  a  prison. 

Rosin.  Why  then  your  Ambition  makes  it  one  : 
'tis  too  narrow  for  your  minde.4' 

Ham.  0  God,  I  could  be  bounded  in  a  nutshell, 
and  count  my  selfe  a  King  of  infinite  space  ;  were 
it  not  that  I  haue  bad  dreames. 

GuiL  Which  dreames  indeed;  are  Ambition : 
for  the  very  substance 5  of  the  Ambitious,  is  meerely 
the  shadow  of  a  Dreame. 

Ham.  A  dreame  it  selfe  is  but  a  shadow. 

Rosin.  Truely,  and  I  hold  Ambition  of  so  ayry 
and  light  a  quality,  that  it  is  but  a  shadowes  shadow. 

Ham.  Then  are  our  Beggers  bodies  ;  and  our 
Monarchs  and  out-stretcht  Heroes  the  Beggers 
Shadowes  :  shall  wee  to  th'Court :  for,  by  my  fey6 
I  cannot  reason  ? 7 

Both.  Wee'l  wait  vpon  you. 

Ham.  No  such  matter.8     I  will  not  sort  you 
with  the  rest  of  my  seruants :  for  to  speake  to  you 
like  an    honest   man:   I   am    most   dreadfully  at- 
tended ; 9 1  but  in  the  beaten  way  of  friendship,10  But  in 
What  make  you  at  Elsonower  ? 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  9t 

1  '  it  is  not  true  that  the  world  is  grown  honest ':  he  doubts  themselves. 
His  eye  is  sharper  because  his  heart  is  sorer  since  he  left  Wittenberg. 
He  proceeds  to  examine  them. 

2  This  passage,  beginning  with  '  Let  me  question,'  and  ending  with 
1  dreadfully  attended,'  is  not  in  the  Quarto. 

Who  inserted  in  the  Folio  this  and  other  passages  ?  Was  it  or  was 
it  not  Shakspere  ?  Beyond  a  doubt  they  are  Shakspere's  all.  Then  who 
omitted  those  omitted  ?  Was  Shakspere  incapable  of  refusing  any  of 
his  own  work  ?  Or  would  these  editors,  who  profess  to  have  all  oppor- 
tunity, and  who,  belonging  to  the  theatre,  must  have  had  the  best  of 
opportunities,  have  desired,  or  dared  to  omit  what  far  more  painstaking 
editors  have  since  presumed,  though  out  of  reverence,  to  restore  ? 


3  '  but  it  is  thinking  that  makes  it  so  : 


4  — feeling  after  the  cause  of  Hamlet's  strangeness,  and  following  the 
readiest  suggestion,  that  of  chagrin-  at  missing  the  succession. 


objects  and  aims 


6  foi. 

7  Does  he  choose  beggars  as  the  representatives  of  substance  because 
they  lack  ambition — that  being  shadow  ?  Or  does  he  take  them  as  the 
shadows  of  humanity,  that,  following  Rosincrance,  he  may  get  their 
shadows,  the  shadows  therefore  of  shadows,  to  parallel  monarchs  and 
heroes  ?  But  he  is  not  satisfied  with  his  own  analogue — therefore  will 
to  the  court,  where  good  logic  is  not  wanted — where  indeed  he  knows  a 
hellish  lack  of  reason. 

8  '  On  no  account.' 

9  ■  I  have  very  bad  servants.'  Perhaps  he  judges  his  servants  spies 
upon  him.  Or  might  he  mean  that  he  was  haunted  with  bad  thoughts ■? 
Or  again,  is  it  a  stroke  of  his  pretence  of  madness — suggesting  imaginary 
followers  ? 

10  *  to  speak  plainly,  as  old  friends,' 


92  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Rosin.  To  visit  you  my  Lord,  no  other  occasion. 

Ham.  Begger  that  I  am,  I  am  eucn  poorc  in  ameverpoore 
thankes  ;  but  I  thanke  you  :  and  sure  deare  friends 
my  thanks  are  too  deare  a  halfepcny1  ;  were  you 
72  not  sent  for  ?     Is  it  your  owne  inclining  ?  Is  it  a 

free   visitation?2     Come,   deale    iustly   with    me:  come, come, 
come,  come  ;  nay  speake. 

GuiL  What  should  we  say  my  Lord  ? 3 

Ham.  Why  any  thing.     But  to  the  purpose  :  A?y  thlng  b»l 

J  J  o  r       r  >    to>th  purpose : 

you  were  sent  for  ;  and  there  is  a  kinde  confession  ]pn<? of  con- 

J  '  fession 

in  your  lookes  ;  which  your  modesties  haue  not 
craft  enough  to  color,  I  know  the  good  King  and 
72   Queene  haue  sent  for  you. 

Rosin.  To  what  end  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  That  you  must  teach  me :  but  let  mee 
coniure 4  you  by  the  rights  of  our  fellowship,  by 
the  consonancy  of  our  youth,5  by  the  Obligation 
of  our  euer-preserued  loue,  and  by  what  more 
deare,  a  better  proposer  could  charge  you  withall  ;  can 
be  euen  and  direct  with  me,  whether  you  were  sent 
for  or  no. 

Rosin.  What  say  you?6 

Ham.  Nay  then  I  haue  an  eye  of  you  7 :  if  you 
loue  me  hold  not  off. 8 
72  Guil.  My  Lord,  we  were  sent  for. 

Ham.  I  will  tell  you  why  ;  so  shall  my  antici- 
pation preuent  your  d'iscouery  of  your  secrfcie  to  JS«55(£» 
the  King  and  Queene : 9  moult  no  feather,  I  haue  Queen" Sit 

no  feather,10 

116   of  late,  but  wherefore   I    know  not,  lost  all    my 

mirth,  forgone  all  customeof  exercise  ;  and  indeed,  exercises: 
it  goes  so  heauenly  with  my  disposition  ;  that  this  heauiiy 
goodly  frame  the  Earth,  seemes  to  me  a  sterrill 
Promontory  ;  this  most  excellent  Canopy  the  Ayre, 
look  you,  this  braue  ore-hanging,  this  Maiesticall  £*,Xf 
Roofe,  fretted  with  golden  fire :  why,  it  appeares  no  appeared 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  93 


1  — because  they  were  by  no  means  hearty  thanks. 

2  He  wants  to  know  whether  they  are  in  his  uncle's  employment  and 
favour ;  whether  they  pay  court  to  himself  for  his  uncle's  ends. 

3  He  has  no  answer  ready. 


4  He  will  not  cast  them  from  him  without  trying  a  direct  appeal  to 
their  old  friendship  for  plain  dealing.  This  must  be  remembered  in 
relation  to  his  treatment  of  them  afterwards.  He  affords  them  every 
chance  of  acting  truly — conjuring  them  to  honesty— giving  them  a  push 
towards  repentance. 

6  Either, '  the  harmony  of  our  young  days,'  or,  '  the  sympathies  of  our 
present  youth.' 

6  — to  Gtiildensteril 

7  {aside)  *  I  will  keep  an  eye  upon  you  \ * 

8  '  do  not  hold  back*' 


B  The  Quarto  seems  here  to  have  the  right  redding* 
10  '  your  promise  of  secrecy  remain  intact ; ' 


94  THE    TR AGE DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

other  thing  to  mee,  then  a  foule  and  pestilent  con-  nothing  to  me 
gregation  of  vapours.     What  a  piece  of  worke  is  whatpeece 
a  man  !  how  Noble  in   Reason  ?    how  infinite  in 
faculty  ?  in  forme  and  mouing  how  expresse  and  faculties, 
admirable?  in  Action,  how  like  an  Angel?  in  ap- 
prehension, how  like  a   God  ?   the  beauty   of  the 
world,  the  Parragon  of  Animals  ;  and  yet  to  me, 
what  is  this  Quintessence  of  Dust  ?     Man  delights 
not  me  ;  !  no,  nor  Woman  neither  ;  though  by  your  not  me,  nor 

women 

smiling  you  seeme  to  say  so.2 

Rosin.  My  Lord,  there  was  no  such  stuffe  in 
my  thoughts. 

Ham.  Why  did  you  laugh,  when  I  said,  Man  yee  laugh  then, 
delights  not  me  ? 

Rosin.  To  thinke,  my  Lord,  if  you  delight  not 
in  Man,  what  Lenton  entertainment  the  Players 
shall  receiue  from  you  : 3  wee  coated  them  4  on  the 
way,  and  hither  are  they  comming  to  offer  you 
Seruice. 

Ham.h  He  that  playes  the  King  shall  be  wel- 
come ;  his  Maiesty  shall    haue    Tribute    of  mee  :  on  me, 
the  aduenturous   Knight  shal  vse  his  Foyle  and 
Target :    the    Louer    shall    not    sigh  gratis,    the 
humorous  man 6  shall  end  his  part  in  peace  :  | 7  the 

IClowne  shall  make  those  laugh  whose  lungs  are 
tickled   a'th'  sere  : 8 1  and  the  Lady  shall  say  her 
minde  freely  ;  or  the  blanke  Verse  shall  halt  for't 9 :  black  verse 
what  Players  are  they  ? 

Rosin.  Euen    those   you    were    wont   to   take  take  such 

'  delight 

delight  in  the  Tragedians  of  the  City. 

Ham.  How  chances  it  they  trauaile  ?  their  resi- 
dence both  in  reputation  and  profit  was  better  both 
wayes. 

Rosin.  I  thinke  their  Inhibition  comes  by  the 
meanes  of  the  late  Innouation  ? 10 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  95 


1  A  genuine  description,  so  far  as  it  goes,  of  the  state  of  Hamlet's 
mind.  But  he  does  not  reveal  the  operating  cause — his  loss  of  faith  in 
women,  which  has  taken  the  whole  poetic  element  out  of  heaven,  earth, 
and  humanity  :  he  would  have  his  uncle's  spies  attribute  his  condition  to 
mere  melancholy. 

3  — said  angrily,  I  think. 


3  —  a  ready-witted  subterfuge. 

4  came  alongside  of  them  ;  got  up  with  them  ;  apparently  rather  from 
Fr.  cdte  than  coter  ;  like  accost.  Compare  71.  But  I  suspect  it  only 
means  noted,  observed,  and  is  from  coter. 

6  — with  humorous  imitation,  fterhaft>s,  of  each  of  the  characters 

6  —the  man  with  a  whim 

7  This  part  of  the  speech — from  '  to  8,  is  not  in  the  Quarto. 

8  Halliwell  gives  a  quotation  in  which  the  touch-hole  of  a  pistol  is 
called  the  sere  :  the  sere,  then,  of  the  lungs  would  mean  the  opening  of  the 
lungs — the  part  with  which  we  laugh  :  those  ■  whose  lungs  are  tickled  a' 
th'  sere,'  are  such  as  are  ready  to  laugh  on  the  least  provocation  : 
tickled — irritable,  ticklish — ready  to  laugh,  as  another  might  be  to  cough. 
*  Tickled  o'  the  sere  '  was  a  common  phrase,  signifying,  thus,  ftroftense. 

isi  Q.  The  clowne  shall  make  them  laugh 
That  are  tickled  in  the  lungs, 

9  Does  this  refer  to  the  pause  that  expresses  the  unutterable  ?  or  to 
the  ruin  of  the  measure  of  the  verse  by  an  incompetent  heroine  ? 

10  Does  this  mean,  4 1  think  their  prohibition  comes  through  the  late 
innovation,'— of  the  children's  acting ;  or,  ;  I  think  they  are  prevented 
from  staying  at  home  by  the  late  new  measures,' — such,  namely,  as  came 
of  the  puritan  opposition  to  stage-plays }  This  had  grown  so  strong, 
that,  in  1600,  the  Privy  Council  issued  an  order  restricting  the  number 
of  theatres  in  London  to  two  :  by  such  an  innovation  a  number  of  players 
might  well  be  driven  to  the  country. 


96  THE    TRAGEDIE   OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  Doe  they  hold  the  same  estimation  they 
did  when  I  was  in  the  City  ?     Are  they  so  follow'd  ? 

Rosin.  No  indeed,  they  are  not.  are  they  not. 

xHam  How  comes  it  ?  doe  they  grow  rusty  ? 

Rosin.  Nay,  their  indeauour  keepes  in  the 
wonted  pace  ;  But  there  is  Sir  an  ayrie  of  Children,'2 
little  Yases,3  that  crye  out4  on  the  top  of  question  ; 8 
and  are  most  tyrannically  clap't  for't :  these  are 
now  the  fashion,  and  so  be-ratled  the  common 
Stages6  (so  they  call  them)  that  many  wearing 
Rapiers,7  are  affraide  of  Goose-quils,  and  dare 
scarse  come  thither.8 

Ham.  What  are  they  Children  ?  Who  maintains 
'em  ?  How  are  they  escoted  ?  9  Will  they  pursue 
the  Quality 10  no  longer  then  they  can  sing  ?  ll  Will 
they  not  say  afterwards  if  they  should  grow  them- 
selues  to  common  Players  (as  it  is  like  most12  if 
their  meanes  are  no  better)  their  Writers13  do  them 
wrong,  to  make  them  exclaim  against  their  owne 
Succession.14 

Rosin.  Faith  there  ha's  bene  much  to  do  on 
both  sides  :  and  the  Nation  holds  it  no  sinne,  to 
tarre  them  l5  to  Controuersie.  There  was  for  a 
while,  no  mony  bid  for  argument,  vnlesse  the  Poet 
and  the  Player  went  to  Cuffes  in  the  Question.16 

Ham.  Is't  possible  ? 

Guild.  Oh  there  ha's  beene  much  throwing 
about  of  Braines. 

Ham.  Do  the  Boyes  carry  it  away? 17 

Rosin.  I  that  they  do  my  Lord,  Hercules  and 
his  load  too.18 

Ham.  It   is  not  strange:  for  mine  Vnckle  is  not  very 

strange,  |  my 

King  of  Denmarke,  and  those  that  would  make 

mowes  at  him  while  my  Father  liued  ;  giue  twenty,  make  mouths 


PRINCE   OF  DENMARKE.  97 

1  The  whole  of  the  following  passage,  beginning  with  '  How  comes  it, 
and  ending  with  '  Hercules  and  his  load  too,'  belongs  to  the  Folio  alone — 
is  not  in  the  Quarto. 

In  the  ist  Quarto  we  find  the  germ  of  the  passage — unrepresented  in 
the  2nd,  developed  in  the  Folio. 

Ham.  Players,  what  Players  be  they  ? 

Ross.  My  Lord,  the  Tragedians  of  the  Citty, 
Those  that  you  tooke  delight  to  see  so  often. 

Ham.  How  comes  it  that  they  trauell?    Do 
they  grow  restie  ? 

Gil.  No  my  Lord,  their  reputation  holds  as  it  was  wont. 

Ham.  How  then  ? 

Gil.  Yfaith  my  Lord,  noueltie  carries  it  away, 
For  the  principall  publike  audience  that 
Came  to  them,  are  turned  to  priuate  playes,* 
And  to  the  humour  t  of  children. 

Ham.  I  doe  not  greatly  wonder  of  it, 
For  those  that  would  make  mops  and  moes 
At  my  vncle,  when  my  father  liued,  &c. 

2  a  nest  of  children.  The  acting  of  the  children  of  two  or  three  of  the 
chief  choirs  had  become  the  rage.  3  Eyases — unfledged  hawks. 

4  Children  cry  out  rather  than  speak  on  the  stage, 

5  ■  cry  out  beyond  dispute ' — unquestionably  ;  '  cry  out  and  no  mistake.' 
'  He  does  not  top  his  part.'  The  Rehearsal,  iii.  I. — ' He  is  not  Up  to  it.' 
But  perhaps  here  is  intended  above  reason  :  '  they  cry  out  excessively, 
excruciatingly.'   103 

This  said,  in  top  of  rage  the  lines  she  rents, — A  Lover's  Complabit. 

6  I  presume  it  should  be  the  present  tense,  beraile — except  the  are 
of  the  preceding  member  be  understood  :  '  and  so  beratled  are  the  com- 
mon stages.'  If  the  present,  then  the  children  <  so  abuse  the  grown  players,' 
— in  the  pieces  they  acted,  particularly  in  the  new  arguments,  written  for 
them — whence  the  reference  to  goose-quills. 

7  — of  the  play-going  public 

8  — for  dread  of  sharing  in  the  ridicule. 

9  paid — from  the  French  escoi,  a  shot  or  reckoning  :  Dr.  Johnson. 

10  — the  quality  of  players  ;  the  profession  of  the  stage 

11  '  Will  they  cease  playing  when  their  voices  change  ?  ' 

12  Either  will  should  follow  here,  or  like  and  most  must  change  places. 

13  *  those  that  write  for  them' 


w 


hat  they  had  had  to  come  to  themselves. 


15  '  to  incite  the  children  and  the  grown  players  to  controversy ' :  to 
larre  them  on  like  dogs  :  see  King  John,  iv.  1. 

16  '  No  stage-manager  would  buy  a  new  argument,  or  prologue,  to  a 
play,  unless  the  dramatist  and  one  of  the  actors  were  therein  represented 
as  falling  out  on  the  question  of  the  relative  claims  of  the  children  and 
adult  actors.'  17  '  Have  the  boys  the  best  of  it  ?' 

18  'That  they  have,  out  and  away.'  Steevens  suggests  that  allusion  is  here 
made  to  the  sign  of  the  Globe  Theatre —  H  ercules  bearing  the  world  for  Atlas. 


amateur-plays  f  whimsical  fashion 

H 


98  THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

forty,  an  hundred  Ducates  a  peece,  for  his  picture l   fortU,  fifty,  a 

_  .  _.  .  .....  .  hundred 

in  Little.      There  is  something  in  this  more  then    little,  s'bioud 
Naturall,  if  Philosophic  could  finde  it  out. 

Flourish  for  the  Players?  a  FkrUh. 

Guil  There  are  the  Players. 
Ham.    Gentlemen,    you    are    welcom    to    El-, 
sonower:  your  hands,  come  :  The  appurtenance  of  come  then,  th* 
Welcome,    is    Fashion    and    Ceremony.     Let   me 
260  comply  with  you  in  the  Garbe,4  lest  my  extent5  to   in  this  garb: 

-1-  *  let  me  extent 

the  Players  (which   I   tell  you  must  shew  fairely 
outward)  should  more  appeare  like  entertainment 6    outwards, 
then  yours.7     You  are  welcome  :  but  my  Vnckle 
Father,  and  Aunt  Mother  are  deceiu'd. 

Guil.  In  what  my  deere  Lord  ? 

Ham.  I  am  but  mad  North,  North-West  :  when 
the  Winde  is  Southerly,  I  know  a  Hawke  from  a 
Handsaw.8 

Enter  Polonius. 

Pol.  Well9  be  with  you  Gentlemen. 

Ham.  Hearke  you  Guildensterne,  and  you  too  : 
at  each  eare  a  hearer  :  that  great  Baby  you  see 
there,  is  not  yet  out  of  his  swathing  clouts.  clouts"8 

Rosin.  Happily  he's  the  second  time  come  to  he  is 
them  :  for  they  say,  an  old  man  is  twice  a  childe. 

Ham,  I  will  Prophesie.     Hee  comes  to  tell  me 
of  the  Players.     Mark  it,  you  say  right  Sir  :  for  a  sir> a  Monday 
Monday  morning  'twas  so  indeed.10  inSef" 

Pol.  My  Lord,  I  haue  Newes  to  tell  you. 

Ham,  My  Lord,  I  haue  Newes  to  tell  you. 
When  Rossius  an  Actor  in  Rome n  *«*«««  waa  an 

Pol.  The  Actors  are  come  hither  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Buzze,  buzze.12 

Pol.  Vpon  mine  Honor.13  mv 

Ham.  Then  can  each  Actor  on  his  Asse came  each 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


99 


1  If  there  be  any  logical  link  here,  except  that,  after  the  instance 
adduced,  no  change  in  social  fashion — nothing  at  all  indeed,  is  to  be 
wondered  at,  I  fail  to  see  it.  Perhaps  the  speech  is  intended  to  belong 
to  the  simulation.  The  last  sentence  of  it  appears  meant  to  convey  the 
impression  that  he  suspects  nothing — is  only  bewildered  by  the  course  of 
things. 

2  his  miniature 

3  — to  indicate  their  approach. 


4  com'ply — accent  on  first  syllable — '  pass  compliments  with  you '  (260) 
— in  the  garb,  either  '  in  appearance,'  or  '  in  the  fashion  of  the  hour.' 

5  'the  amount  of  courteous  reception  I  extend' — 'my  advances  to  the 
players ' 

6  reception,  welcome 

7  He  seems  to  desire  that  they  shall  no  more  be  on  the  footing  of 
fellow-students,  and  thus  to  rid  hims'elf  of  the  old  relation.  Perhaps  he 
hints  that  they  are  players  too.  From  any  further  show  of  friendliness 
he  takes  refuge  in  convention — and  professed  convention — supplying  a 
reason  in  order  to  escape  a  dangerous  interpretation  of  his  sudden  for- 
mality— '  lest  you  should  suppose  me  more  cordial  to  the  players  than  to 
you.'  The  speech  is  full  of  inwoven  irony,  doubtful,  and  refusing  to  be 
ravelled  out.  With  what  merely  half-shown,  yet  scathing  satire  it  should 
be  spoken  and  accompanied  ! 

8  A  proverb  of  the  time  comically  corrupted — handsaw  for  hernshaw 
— a  heron,  the  quarry  of  the  hawk.  He  denies  his  madness  as  madmen 
do — and  in  terms  themselves  not  unbefitting  madness — so  making  it 
seem  the  more  genuine.  Yet  every  now  and  then,  urged  by  the  commo- 
tion of  his  being,  he  treads  perilously  on  the  border  of  self-betrayal. 

9  used  as  a  noun. 


10  Point  thus  :  '  Mark  it. — You  say  right,  sir  ;  &c.'  He  takes  up  a 
speech  that  means  nothing,  and  might  mean  anything,  to  turn  aside 
the  suspicion  their  whispering  might  suggest  to  Polonius  that  they  had 
been  talking  about  him— so  better  to  lay  his  trap  for  him. 

11  He  mentions  the  actor  to  lead  Polonius  so  that  his  prophecy  of  him 
shall  come  true. 

12  An  interjection  of  mockery  :  he  had  made  a  fool  of  him. 

13  Polonius  thinks  he  is  refusing  to  believe  him. 


11  2 


ioo         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Polon.  The  best  Actors  in  the  world,  either  for 
Tragedie,  Comedie,  Historie,  Pastorall :  Pastoricall-  Pastoral! 
Comicall-Historicall-Pastorall :  |  'Tragicall-Histori- 
[call  :  Tragicall  -  Comicall  -  Historicall  -  Pastorall ] :  | 
Scene  indiuible,2or  Poern  vnlimited.3  Seneca  cannot  scene  indeui- 

dible,* 

be  too  heauy,  nor  Plautns  too  light,  for  the  law  of 
Writ,  and  the  Liberty.     These  are  the  onely  men.4 

Ham.  O  Iephta  Iudge  of  Israel,  what  a  Treas- 
ure had'st  thou  ? 

Pol.  What  a  Treasure  had  he,  my  Lord  ? 6 

Ham.  Why  one  faire  Daughter,  and  no  more,6 
The  which  he  loued  passing  well.6 
86         Pol.  Still  on  my  Daughter. 

Ham.  Am  I  not  i'th'right  old  Iephta  ? 

Polon.  If  you  call  me  Iephta  my  Lord,  I  haue 
a  daughter  that  I  loue  passing  well 

Ham.  Nay  that  followes  not.7 

Polon.  What  followes  then,  my  Lord  ? 

Ha.  Why,  As  by  lot,  God  wot : 6  and  then  you 
know,  It  came  to  passe,  as  most  like  it  was : 6  The 
first  rowe  of  the  Pons 8  Chanson  will  shew  you  more,  pious  chanson 
For  looke  where  my  Abridgements9  come.  abridgment9 

comes. 

Enter  foure  or  fine  Players.  E^ter  ***    . 

•*  *  •*  Players. 

Y'are  welcome  Masters,  welcome  all.     I  am  glad  You  are 
to  see  thee  well :  Welcome  good  Friends.     O  my  oh  old  friend, 
olde  Friend  ?    Thy  face  is  valiant ,0  since  I  saw  thee  is  vaianct  •• 
last;    Com'st    thou   to  beard    me    in    Denmarke? 
What,   my  yong    Lady   and   Mistris  ? "     Byrlady  byiady 
your  Ladiship  is  neerer  Heauen  then  when  I  saw  nererto 
you  last,  by  the  altitude  of  a  Choppine.12     Pray 
God  your  voice  like  a  peece  of  vncurrant  Gold  be 
not  crack'd  within  the  ring.13     Masters,  you  are  all 
welcome :  wee'l  e'ne  to't  like  French  Faulconers,14  Hke  friendly 

r  ankner 

flie  at  any  thing  we  see  :  wee'l   haue    a    Speech 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  101 


From  1  to  1  is  not  in  the  Quarto, 


2  Does  this  phrase  mean  all  in  one  scene  ? 

3  A  poem  to  be  recited  only — one  not  limited,  or  divided  into  speeches. 


4  Point  thus  :  '  too  light.  For  the  law  of  Writ,  and  the  Liberty,  these 
are  the  onely  men ' : — either  for  written  plays,  that  is,  or  for  those  in 
which  the  players  extemporized  their  speeches. 

\st  Q.  '  For  the  law  hath  writ  those  are  the  onely  men.' 

5  Polonius  would  lead  him  on  to  talk  of  his  daughter. 

6  These  are  lines  of  the  first  stanza  of  an  old  ballad  still  in  existence. 
Does  Hamlet  suggest  that  as  Jephthah  so  Polonius  had  sacrificed  his 
daughter  ?     Or  is  he  only  desirous  of  making  him  talk  about  her  ? 


That  is  not  as  the  ballad  goes ' 


8  That  this  is  a  corruption  of  the  pious  in  the  Quarto,  s  made  clearer 
from  the  i st  Quarto  :  '  the  first  verse  of  the  godly  Ballet  wil  tel  you  all. 

9  abridgment — that  which  abridges,  or  cuts  short.    His 'Abridgements' 
were  the  Players. 


10  ist  Q.  'Vallanced' — with  a  beard,  that  is.  Both  readings  may  be 
correct. 

11  A  boy  of  course  :  no  women  had  yet  appeared  on  the  stage. 

12  a  Venetian  boot,  stilted,  sometimes  very  high. 

13  — because  then  it  would  be  unfit  for  a  woman-part.  A  piece  of  gold 
so  worn  that  it  had  a  crack  reaching  within  the  inner  circle  was  no  longer 
current,     ist  Q.  '  in  the  ring  :  '—was  a  pun  intended  ? 

u  — like  French  sportsmen  of  the  present  day  too. 


io2         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

straight.     Come  glue-  vs  a  tast  of  your  quality  : 
come,  a  passionate  speech. 

I.  Play.  What  speech,  my  Lord?  my  good  Lord? 

Ham.  I  heard  thee  speak  me  a  speech  once,  but 
it  was  neuer  Acted  :  or  if  it  was,  not  aboue  once, 
for  the  Play  I   remember  pleas'd   not  the  Million, 
'twas  Cauiarie  to  the  Generall  l  :  but  it  was  (as  I 
receiu'd   it,  and  others,  whose  iudgement  in  such 
matters,  cried   in   the  top  of  mine) 2  an  excellent 
Play  ;  well  digested  in  the  Sccenes,  set  downe  with 
as  much  modestie,  as  cunning.3     I  remember  one 
said  there  was  no  Sallets 4  in  the  lines,  to  make  the  were 
matter  sauoury  ;  nor  no  matter  in  the  phrase,5  that 
might  indite  the^  Author  of  affectation,  but  cal'd  it  affection, 
an  honest  method  *.     One  cheefe  Speech  in  it,  I   \™\  sPeech 
cheefely   lou'd,    'twas;  JEneas  Tale   to  Dido,  and  ^*»«wtaiketa 
thereabout  of   it  especially,  where    he    speaks    of  when 
Priams6  slaughter.     If  it  Hue  in    your  memory, 
begin   at  this  Line,  let  me  see,  let  me  see  :  The 
rugged  Pyrrhus  like   \ti  H'yrcanian   Beast.7     It  is   tisnot 
not  so  :  it  begins*- with  Pyrrhus* 
10  The  rugged  Pfrr&us,  he  whose  Sable  Armes  u 
Blacke  as  his  purpose,  did  the  night  resemble 
When  he  lay  couched  in  the  Ominous  ,2  Horse, 
Hath    now   this    dread    and    blacke    Complexion 

smear'd 
With  Heraldry  more  dismal! :  Head  to  foote 
Now  is  he  to  take  Geulles,13  horridly  Trick'd  ishetotaii 

J  Gules13 

With  blood  of  Fathers,  Mothers,  Daughters,  Sonnes, 

14  Bak'd  and  impasted  with  the  parching  streets, 

That  lend  a  tyrannous,  and  damned  light  and  a  damned 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto: — 
,  as    wholesome  as  sweete,  and  by  very  much,  more   handsome   then 
fine  : 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  103 


1  The  salted  roe  of  the  sturgeon  is  a  delicacy  disliked  by  most  people. 


2  '  were  superior  to  mine  ' 
The  1st  Quarto  has, 

'  Cried  in  the  toppe  of  their  iudgements,  an  excellent  play,' — 
that  is,  pronounced it,  to  the  best  of  their  judgments,  an  excellent  play. 

Note  the  difference  between  '  the  top  of  my  judgment ',  and  '  the  top 
of  their  judgments '.    97 

3  skill 

4  coarse  jests.     25,  67 

5  style 


6  1st  Q.  '  Princes  slaughter,' 

7  1st  Q.  '  th'arganian  beast : '  'the  Hyrcan  tiger,'  Macbeth,  iii.  4. 

8  '  it  begins ' :  emphasis  on  begins. 

9  A  pause ;  then  having  recollected,  he  starts  afresli. 

10  These  passages  are  Shakspere's  own,  not  quotations  :  the  Quartos 
differ.  But  when  he  wrote  them  he  had  in  his  mind  a  phantom  of 
Marlowe's  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  I  find  Steevens  has  made  a  similar 
conjecture,  and  quotes  from  Marlowe  two  of  the  passages  I  had  marked 
as  being  like  passages  here. 

11  The  poetry  is  admirable  in  its  kind — intentionally  charged,  to  raise 
it  to  the  second  stage-level,  above  the  blank  verse,  that  is,  of  the  drama 
in  which  it  is  set,  as  that  blank  verse  is  raised  above  the  ordinary  level 
of  speech.     143 

The  correspondent  passage  in  1st  Q.  runs  nearly  parallel  for  a  few  lines. 
13  — like  portentous. 

13  'all  red'.  1st  Q.  '  totall  guise,' 

14  Here  the  1st  Quarto  has: — 

Back't  and  imparched  in  calagulate  gore, 

Rifted  in  earth  and  fire,  olde  grandsire  Pryam  seekes  : 

So  goe  on. 


104         THE    TRACE  DIE    OE  HAMLET, 

To  their  vilde  Murthers,  roasted  in  wrath  and  fire,    their  Lords 

murther, 

And  thus  o're-sized  with  coagulate  gore, 

With  eyes  like  Carbuncles,  the  hellish  PyrrJius 

Old  Grandsire  Priam  seekes.1  seehes;  sopro- 

ceede  you.'"' 

Pol.  Fore   God,   my  Lord,    well  spoken,    with 
good  accent,  and  good  discretion.3 

I.  Player.  Anon  he  findes  him,  riay. 

Striking  too  short  at  Greekes.4    His  anticke  Sword, 
Rebellious  to  his  Arme,  lyes  where  it  falles 
Repugnant  to  command  4 :  vnequall  match,  matcht, 

Pyrrhus  at  Priam  driues,  in  Rage  strikes  wide : 
But  with  the  whiffe  and  winde  of  his  fell  Sword, 
Th'vnnerued  Father  fals.5    Then  senselesse  1  Ilium,6 
Seeming  to  feele  his  blow,  with  flaming  top  ^J  this 

Stoopes  to  his  Bace,  and  with  a  hideous  crash 
Takes  Prisoner  Pyrrhus  eare.     For  loe,  his  Sword 
Which  was  declining  on  the  Milkie  head 
Of  Reuerend  Priam,  seem'd  i'th'Ayre  to  sticke : 
So  as  a  painted  Tyrant  Pyrrhus  stood,8  stood 

And  like  a  Newtrall  to  his  will  and  matter,9  did   Like 
nothing.10 

11  But  as  we  often  see  against  some  storme, 

A  silence  in  the  Heauens,  the  Racke  stand  still, 
The  bold  windes  speechlesse,  and  the  Orbe  below 
As  hush  as  death  :  Anon  the  dreadfull  Thunder 
no  Doth  rend  the  Region.11     So  after  Pyrrhus  pause, 
Arowsed  Vengeance  sets  him  new  a-worke, 
And  neuer  did  the  Cyclops  hammers  fall 
On  Mars  his  Armours,  forg'd  for  proofe  Eterne,         Morses 

Armor 

With  lesse  remorse  then  Pyrrhus  bleeding  sword 
Now  falles  on  Priam. 

12  Out,  out,  thou  Strumpet-Fortune,  all  you  Gods, 
In  generall  Synod  take  away  her  power : 

Breake  all  the  Spokes  and  Fallies  from  her  wheele,  forties 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARK E.  105 


1  This,  though  horrid  enough,  is  in  degree  below  the  description  in 
Dido. 

2  He   is  directing  the  player  to  take  up  the  speech  there  where  he 
leaves  it.     See  last  quotation  from  1st  Q. 

3  judgment 

4  — with   an    old   man's   under-reaching  blows — till   his    arm    is  so 
jarred  by  a  missed  blow,  that  he  cannot  raise  his  sword  again. 


5  Whereat  he  lifted  up  his  bedrid  limbs, 

And  would  have  grappled  with  Achilles'  son, 

Which  he,  disdaining,  whisk'd  his  sword  about, 
And  with  the  wound  *  thereof  the  king  fell  down. 

Marlowe's  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage. 

6  The  Quarto  has  omitted  '  Then  senselesse  Illium]  or  something  else 

7  Printed  with  the  long  f. 

8  — motionless  as  a  tyrant  in  a  picture. 

9  '  standing  between  his  will  and  its  object  as  if  he  had  no  relation 
to  either,' 

10  And  then  in  triumph  ran  into  the  streets, 

Through  which  he  could  not  pass  for  slaughtered  men  ; 
So,  leaning  on  his  sword,  he  stood  stone  still, 
Viewing  the  fire  wherewith  rich  Ilion  burnt. 

Marlowe's  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage. 

11  Who  does   not  feel   this  passage,  down   to  '  Region,'  thoroughly 
Shaksperean  I 


u  Is  not  the  rest  of  this  speech  very  plainly  Shakspere's? 


•wind,  I  think  it  should  be. 


i  o6         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

And    boule   the   round    Naue   downe   the  hill   of 

Heauen, 
As  low  as  to  the  Fiends. 

Pol.  This  is  too  long. 

Ham.  It  shall  to'th  Barbars,  with  your  beard,  to  the 
Pry  thee  say  on  :    He's  for  a  Iigge,  or   a  tale  of 
Baudry,  or  hee  sleepes.     Say  on  ;  come  to  Hecuba. 

I.  Play.  But  who,  O  who,  had  seen  the  inobled1   Butwho, a 

woe,  had  | 
Queen.  mobled' 

Ham.  The  inobled  '  Queen e  ?  mobied 

Pol.  That's  good  :  Inobled  1  Queene  is  good.2 

i.  Play.  Run  bare-foot  vp  and  downe, 
Threatning  the  flame  flames 

With  Bisson  Rheume  : 3  A  clout  about  that  head,     doutvppon 
Where  late  the  Diadem  stood,  and  for  a  Robe 
About  her  lanke  and  all  ore-teamed  Loines,4 
A  blanket  in  th'Alarum,  of  feare  caught  vp.  the  aiarme 

Who  this  had  seene,  with  tongue  in  Venome  steep'd, 
'Gainst  Fortunes  State,  would  Treason  haue  pro- 

nounc'd?5 
But  if  the  Gods  themselues  did  see  her  then, 
When  she  saw  Pyrrhns  make  malicious  sport 
In  mincing  with  his  Sword  her  Husbands  limbes,6  ^band 
The  instant  Burst  of  Clamour  that  she  made 
(Vnlesse  things  mortall  moue  them  not  at  all) 
Would  haue   made  milche7  the  Burning  eyes  of 

Heauen, 
And  passion  in  the  Gods.8 

Pol.  Tooke  where9  he  ha's  not  tUrn'd  his  colour, 
and  ha's  teares  in's  eyes.     Pray  you  no  more.  prethee 

Ham.  'Tis  well,  He  haue  thee  speake  out  the 
rest,  soone.     Good    my    Lord,   will    you    see   the  rest  of  this 
Players  wel  bestow'd.     Do  ye  heare,  let  them  be  you 
well  vs'd  :  for  they  are  the  Abstracts  and  breefe  abstract 
Chronicles  of  the  time.     After  your   death,   you 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


107 


1  *  mobled* — also  in  1st  Q. — may  be  the  word  :  muffled  seems  a  corrup- 
tion of  it  :  compare  mob-cap,  and 

'  The  moon  does  mobble  up  herself 

— Shirley,  quoted  by  Farmer ; 

but  I  incline  to  '  mobled]  thrice    in  the   Folio— oxict  with  a  capital :   I 
take  it  to  stand  for  i  ignobled,r  degraded. 

3  '  Inobled  Queene  is  good.'  rwt  in  Quarto, 

3  — threatening  to  put  the  flames  out  with  blind  tears  :  '  bisen]  blind 
— Ang.  Sax. 

4  — she  had  had  so  many  children. 


5  There  should  of  course  be  no  point  of  interrogation  here. 


6  This  butcher,  whilst  his  hands  were  yet  held  up, 
Treading  upon  his  breast,  struck  off  his  hands. 

Marlowe's  Dido,  Quee?i  of  Carthage. 

7  '  milche' — capable  of  giving  milk  :  here  capable  of  tears,  which  the 
burning  eyes  of  the  gods  were  not  before. 


8  '  And  would  have  made  passion  in  the  Gods.' 

9  '  whether ' 


ioS         THE    TRACE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

were  better  haue  a  bad  Epitaph,  then  their  ill 
report  while  you  liued.1  nve. 

Pol.  My  Lord,  I  will  vse  them  according  to 
their  desart. 

Ham.  Gods  bodykins  man,  better.     Vse  euerie  bodkin  man, 

much  better, 

man  after  his  desart,  and  who  should  scape  whip-  shall 
ping :  vse  them  after  your  own  Honor  and  Dig- 
nity.    The  lesse  they  deserue,  the  more  merit  is  in 
your  bountie.     Take  them  in. 

Pol.  Come  sirs.  Exit  Polon? 

Ham.  Follow  him  Friends  :  wee'l  heare  a  play 
to  morrow.3  Dost  thou  heare  me  old  Friend,  can 
you  play  the  murther  of  Gonzago  ? 

Play.  I  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Wee'l  ha't  to  morrow  night.  You  could 
for  a  need  4  study 5  a  speech  of  some  dosen  or  six-  for  neede  | 

dosen  lines,  or 

teene  lines,  which  I  would  set  downe,  and  insert 
in't?     Could  ye  not?6  you 

Play.  I  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Very  well.  Follow  that  Lord,  and  looke 
you  mock  him  not.7  My  good  Friends,  He  leaue 
you  til  night  you  are  welcome  to  Elsonower?  E        _  , 

Rosin.  Good  my  Lord.  Exeunt.  andPia^ 

Manet  Hamlet* 

Ham.  I  so,  God  buy'ye9:  Now  I  am  alone.         buy  to  you,8 
Oh  what  a  Rogue  and  Pesant  slaue  am  \£jr 
Is  it  not  monstrous  that  this  Player  heere,11 
But  in  a  Fixion,  in  a  dreame  of  Passion, 
Could  force  his  soule  so  to  his  whole  conceit,12  hisowne 

That  from  her  working,  all  his  visage  warm'd  ;  an  the  visage 

Teares  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in's  Aspect,  in  his' 

A  broken  voyce,  and  his  whole  Function  suiting       anhis 
With    Formes,   to   his    Conceit  ? 13     And    all    for 
nothing!?] 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  109 


1  Why  do  the  editors  choose  the  present  tense  of  the  Quarto"? 
Hamlet  does  not  mean,  '  It  is  worse  to  have  the  ill  report  of  the  Players 
while  you  live,  than  a  bad  epitaph  after  your  death.'  The  order  of  the 
sentence  has  provided  against  that  meaning.  What  he  means  is,  that 
their  ill  report  in  life  will  be  more  against  your  reputation  after  death 
than  a  bad  epitaph. 


2  Not  in  Quarto. 

3  He  detains  their  leader. 


4  '  for  a  special  reason ' 

5  Study  is  still  the  Player's  word  for  commit  to  memory* 

6  Note  Hamlet's  quick  resolve,  made  clearer  towards  the  end  of  the 
following  soliloquy. 


7  Polonius  is  waiting  at  the  door  :  this  is  intended  for  his  hearing. 

8  Not  in  Q. 

9  Note  the  varying  forms  of  God  be  with  you. 

10  1st  Q.  Why  what  a  dunghill  idiote  slaue  am  I  ? 

Why  these  Players  here  draw  Water  from  eyes  : 

For  Hecuba,  why  what  is  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba? 

11  Everything  rings  on  the  one  hard,  fixed  idea  that  possesses  him  ; 
but  this  one  idea  has  many  sides.  Of  late  he  has  been  thinking  more 
upon  the  woman-side  of  it ;  but  the  Player  with  his  speech  has  brought 
his  father  to  his  memory,  and  he  feels  he  has  been  forgetting  him  :  the 
rage  of  the  actor  recalls  his  own  '  cue  for  passion.'  Always  more  ready  to 
blame  than  justify  himself,  he  feels  as  if  he  ought  to  have  done  more,  and 
so  falls  to  abusing  himself. 

12  imagination 

13  '  his  whole  operative  nature  providing  fit  forms  for  the  embodiment 
of  his  imagined  idea ' — of  which  forms  he  has  already  mentioned  his 
warmed  visage,  his  tears,  his  distracted  look,  his  broke7i  voice. 

In  this  passage  we  have  the  true  idea  of  the  operation  of  the  genuine 
acting  faculty.  Actor  as  well  as  dramatist,  the  Poet  gives  us  here  his 
own  notion  of  his  second  calling, 


no         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

For  Hecuba^ 

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

That  he  should  weepe  for  her  ?    What  would  he  doe, 

Had  he  the  Motiue  and  the  Cue2  for  passion  ,  and  that  ft* 

That  I  haue  ?     He  would  drowne  the  Stage  with 

teares, 
And  cleaue  the  generall  eare  with  horrid  speech  : 
Make  mad  the  guilty,  and  apale3  the  free,4 
Confound  the  ignorant,  and  amaze  indeed 
The  very  faculty  of  Eyes  and  Eares.  (Yet  I,  ^         racuiti 
A  dull  and  muddy-metled 8  Rascall,  pealce 
Like  Iohn  a-dreames,  vnpregnant  of  my  cause,6 
And  can  say  nothing :  No,  not  for  a  King, 
Vpon  whose  property,7  and  most  deerejlife, 
A  damn'd  defeated  was  made.     Am  I  a  Coward?9 
Who  calles  me  Villaine?  breakes  my  pate  a-crosse? 
Pluckes  off  my  Beard,  and  blowes  it  in  my  face  ? 
Tweakes  me  by'th'Nose  ?  10  giues  me  the  Lye  i'th' 

Throate, 
As  deepe  as  to  the  Lungs  ?     Who  does  me  this  ? 
Ha  ?  Why  I  should  take  it  :  for  it  cannot  be,  Hah,  S' wounds 

But  I  am  Pigeon-Liuer'd,  and  lacke  Gall  n 
To  make  Oppression  bitter,  or  ere  this, 

104   I  should  haue  fatted  all  the  Region  Kites 

With  this  Slaues  Offal l,(bloudy  :  a  Bawdy  villaine] 
Remorselesse,12  Treacherous,  Letcherous,  kindles  lz 
^    villaine  ! 
\Oh  Vengeance  !  " 

(^WhoT--^WhaT''an  Asse  jmjj  !  I  sure,  this  is  most 
"~~~ — biatie^ 

That  I,  the  Sonne  of  the  Deere  murthered,  adeere 

Prompted  to  my  Reuenge  by  Heauen,  and  Hell, 
Must  (like  a  Whore)  vnpacke  my  heart  with  words, 
And  fall  a  Cursing  like  a  very  Drab,16 
A  Scullion  ?  Fye  vpon't :  Foh.    About  my  Braine.1G  astaiiyon,  i 

braines ;  hum, 
\l  0  rrv.    — 


by  the 


should  a  fatted 
bloody,  baudy 


Why  what  an 
Asse  am  I,  this 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE. 


1  Here  follows  in  \st  Q. 

What  would  he  do  and  if  he  had  my  losse  ? 
His  father  murdred,  and  a  Crowne  bereft  him, 
174  He  would  turne  all  his  teares  to  droppes  of  blood, 
Amaze  the  standers  by  with  his  laments, 
&c.  &c. 

2  Speaking  of  the  Player,  he  uses  the  player-word. 


3  make  pale — appal 

4  the  innocent 

5  Mettle  is  spirit — rather  in  the  sense  of  animal-spirit:  mettlesome  — 
spirited,  as  a  horse. 

6  '  unpossessed  by  my  cause  ' 

7  personality,  proper  person 

8  undoing,  destruction — from  French  ddfaire. 

9  In  this  mood  he  no  more  understands,  and  altogether  doubts  him- 
self, as  he  has  previously  come  to  doubt  the  world. 

10  1st  Q.  '  or  twites  my  nose,' 


11  It  was  supposed  that  pigeons  had  no  gall — I  presume  from  their 
livers  not  tasting  bitter  like  those  of  perhaps  most  birds. 


12  pitiless 

13  unnatural 

14  This  line  is  not  in  the  Quarto. 


16  Here  in  Q.  the  line  runs  on  to  include  Foh.  The  next  line  ends 
with  heard, 

16  Point  thus  : {  About !  my  brain>'  He  apostrophizes  his  brain,  telling 
it  to  set  to  work* 


ii2         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

I  haue  heard,  that  guilty  Creatures  sitting  at  a  Play, 

Haue  by  the  very  cunning  of  the  Sccene,1 

Bene  strooke  so  to  the  soule,  that  presently 

They  haue  proclaim'd  their  Malefactions. 

For  Murther,  though  it  haue  no  tongue,  will  speake 

With  most   myraculous    Organ.2     He    haue    these 

Players, 
Play  something  like  the  murder  of  my  Father, 
Before  mine  Vnkle.     He  obserue  his  lookes, 
l37   He  tent  him  to  the  quicke  :  If  he  but  blench3  if  a  doe  blench 

I  know  my  course.     The  Spirit  that  I  haue  seene 

45  May4  be  the  Diuell,  and  the  Diuel  hath  power  May  be  a 

.  •  deale,  and  the 

1  assume  a  pleasing  shape,  yea  and  perhaps  deaie 

Out  of  my  Weaknesse,  and  my  Melancholly,5 
As  he  is  very  potent  with  such  Spirits,6 

46  Abuses  me  to  damne  me.7     He  haue  grounds 
More  Relatiue  then  this  :  The  Play's  the  thing, 
Wherein  He  catch  the  Conscience  of  the  King. 

Exit. 

SUMMARY. 

The  division  between  the  second  and  third  acts  is  by  common  consent 
placed  here.  The  third  act  occupies  the  afternoon,  evening,  and  night 
of  the  same  day  with  the  second. 

This  soliloquy  is  Hamlet's  first,  and  perhaps  we  may  find  it  correct  to 
say  only  outbreak  of  self-accusation.  He  charges  himself  with  lack  of 
feeling,  spirit,  and  courage,  in  that  he  has  not  yet  taken  vengeance  on  his 
uncle.  But  unless  we  are  prepared  to  accept  and  justify  to  the  full  his  own 
hardest  words  against  himself,  and  grant  him  a  muddy-mettled,  pigeon- 
livered  rascal,  Ave  must  examine  and  understand  him,  so  as  to  account 
for  his  conduct  better  than  he  could  himself.  If  we  allow  that  perhaps  he 
accuses  himself  too  much,  we  may  find  on  reflection  that  he  accuses 
himself  altogether  wrongfully.  If  a  man  is  content  to  think  the  worst  of 
Hamlet,  I  care  to  hold  no  argument  with  that  man. 

We  must  not  look  for  expressed  logical  sequence  in  a  soliloquy,  which 
is  a  vocal  mind.  The  mind  is  seldom  conscious  of  the  links  or  transitions 
of  a  yet  perfectly  logical  process  developed  in  it.  This  remark,  however, 
is  more  necessary  in  regard  to  the  famous  soliloquy  to  follow. 

In  Hamlet,  misery  has  partly  choked  even  vengeance  ;  and  although 
sure  in  his  heart  that  his  uncle  is  guilty,  in  his  brain  he  is  not  sure. 
Bitterly  accusing  himself  in   an  access  of  wretchedness  and  rage  and 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  113 

1  Here  follows  in  \st  Q. 

confest  a  murder 
Committed  long  before. 

This  spirit  that  I  haue  seene  may  be  the  Diuell, 
And  out  of  my  weakenesse  and  my  melancholy, 
As  he  is  very  potent  with  such  men, 
Doth  seeke  to  damne  me,  I  will  haue  sounder  proofes, 
The  play's  the  thing,  &c. 

2  '  Stones  have  been  known  to  move,  and  trees  to  speak ;'  &c. 

Macbeth,  iii.  4. 

3  In  the  1st  Q.  Hamlet,  speaking  to  Horatio  (137),  says, 

And  if  he  doe  not  bleach,  and  change  at  that, — 
Bleach  is  radically  the  same  word  as  blench : — to  bleach,  to  blanch,  to 
blench — to  grow  white. 

4  Emphasis  on  May,  as  resuming  previous  doubtful  thought  and 
suspicion. 

5  — caused  from  the  first  by  his  mother's  behaviour,  not  constitutional. 

6  — 'such  conditions  of  the  spirits' 

7  Here  is  one  element  in  the  very  existence  of  the  preceding  act  : 
doubt  as  to  the  facts  of  the  case  has  been  throughout  operating  to 
restrain  him ;  and  here  first  he  reveals,  perhaps  first  recognizes  its  in- 
fluence. Subject  to  change  of  feeling  with  the  wavering  of  conviction,  he 
now  for  a  moment  regards  his  uncertainty  as  involving  unnatural  distrust 
of  a  being  in  whose  presence  he  cannot  help  feeling  him  his  father.  He 
was  familiar  with  the  lore  of  the  supernatural,  and  knew  the  doubt  he  ex- 
presses to  be  not  without  support. — His  companions  as  well  had  all  been 
in  suspense  as  to  the  identity  of  the  apparition  with  the  late  king. 

credence,  he  forgets  the  doubt  that  has  restrained  him,  with  all  besides 
which  he  might  so  well  urge  in  righteous  defence,  not  excuse,  of  his 
delay.  But  ungenerous  criticism  has,  by  all  but  universal  consent,  ac- 
cepted his  own  verdict  against  himself.  So  in  common  life  there  are 
thousands  on  thousands  who,  upon  the  sad  confession  of  a  man  im- 
measurably greater  than  themselves,  and  showing  his  greatness  in  the 
humility  whose  absence  makes  admission  impossible  to  them,  immediately 
pounce  upon  him  with  vituperation,  as  if  he  were  one  of  the  vile,  and 
they  infinitely  better.  Such  should  be  indignant  with  St.  Paul  and  say — 
if  he  was  the  chief  of  sinners,  what  insolence  to  lecture  them  !  and  cer- 
tainly the  more  justified  publican  would  never  by  them  have  been  allowed 
to  touch  the  robe  of  the  less  justified  Pharisee.  Such  critics  surely  take 
little  or  no  pains  to  understand  the  object  of  their  contempt  :  because 
Hamlet  is  troubled  and  blames  himself,  they  without  hesitation  condemn 
him — and  there  where  he  is  most  commendable.  It  is  the  righteous 
man  who  is  most  ready  to  accuse  himself;  the  unrighteous  is  least 
ready.  Who  is  able  when  in  deep  trouble,  rightly  to  analyze  his  feelings  ? 
Delay  in  action  is  not  necessarily  abandonment  of  duty ;  in  Hamlet's 
case  it  is  a  due  recognition  of  duty,  which  condemns  precipitancy — and 
action  in  the  face  of  doubt,  so  long  as  it  is  nowise  compelled,  is  pre- 
cipitancy. The  first  thing  is  to  be  sure  :  Hamlet  has  never  been  sure ;  he 
spies  at  length  a  chance  of  making  himself  sure;  he  seizes  upon  it ;  and 

T 


ii4  THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

while  his  sudden  resolve  to  make  use  of  the  players,  like  the  equally  sudden 
resolve  to  shroud  himself  in  pretended  madness,  manifests  him  fertile 
in  expedient,  the  carrying  out  of  both  manifests  him  right  capable  and 
diligent  in  execution— <z  man  of  action  in  every  true  sense  of  the  word. 

The  self-accusation  of  Hamlet  has  its  ground  in  the  lapse  of  weeks 
during  which  nothing  has  been  done  towards  punishing  the  king.  Suddenly 
roused  to  a  keen  sense  of  the  fact,  he  feels  as  if  surely  he  might  have 
done  something.  The  first  act  ends  with  a  burning  vow  of  righteous 
vengeance;  the  second  shows  him  wandering  about  the  palace  in  pro- 
foundest  melancholy — such  as  makes  it  more  than  easy  for  him  to  assume 
the  forms  of  madness  the  moment  he  marks  any  curious  eye  bent 
upon  him.  Let  him  who  has  never  loved  and  revered  a  mother,  call  such 
melancholy  weakness.  He  has  indeed  done  nothing  towards  the  fulfil- 
ment of  his  vOw ;  but  the  way  in  which  he  made  the  vow,  the  terms  in 
which  he  exacted  from  his  companions  their  promise  of  silence,  and  his 
scheme  for  eluding  suspicion,  combine  to  show  that  from  the  first  he  per- 
ceived its  fulfilment  would  be  hard,  saw  the  obstacles  in  his  way,  and  knew 
it  would  require  both  time  and  caution.  That  even  in  the  first  rush  of  his 
wrath  he  should  thus  be  aware  of  difficulty,  indicates  moral  symmetry ; 
but  the  full  weight  of  what  lay  in  his  path  could  appear  to  him  only  upon 
reflection.  Partly  in  the  light  of  passages  yet  to  come,  I  will  imagine  the 
further  course  of  his  thoughts,  which  the  closing  couplet  of  the  first  act 
shows  as  having  already  begun  to  apale  '  the  native  hue  of  resolution.' 

'  But  how  shall  I  take  vengeance  on  my  uncle  ?  Shall  I  publicly 
accuse  him,  or  slay  him  at  once?  In  the  one  case  what  answer  can  I 
make  to  his  denial?  in  the  other,  what  justification  can  I  offer?  If  I 
say  the  spirit  of  my  father  accuses  him,  wjiat  proof  can  I  bring  ?  My 
companions  only  saw  the  apparition — heard  no  word  from  him  ;  and  my 
uncle's  party  will  assert,  with  absolute  likelihood  to  the  minds  of  those 
who  do  not  know  me— and  who  here  knows  me  but  my  mother  !— that 
charge  is  a  mere  coinage  of  jealous  disappointment,  working  upon 
the  melancholy  I  have  not  cared  to  hide.  (174-6.)  When  I  act,  it 
must  be  to  kill  him,  and  to  what  misconstruction  shall  I  not  expose 
myself!  (272)  If  the  thing  must  so  be,  I  must  brave  all  ;  but  I  could 
never  present  myself  thereafter  as  successor  to  the  crown  of  one  whom 
I  had  first  slain  and  then  vilified  on  the  accusation  of  an  apparition  whom 
no  one  heard  but  myself!  I  must  find  proof—  such  proof  as  will  satisfy 
others  as  well  as  myself.    My  immediate  duty  is  evidence,  not  vengeance.' 

We  have  seen  besides,  that,  when  informed  of  the  haunting  presence 
of  the  Ghost,  he  expected  the  apparition  with  not  a  little  doubt  as  to  its 
authenticity — a  doubt  which,  even  when  he  saw  it,  did  not  immediately 
vanish  :  is  it  any  wonder  that  when  the  apparition  was  gone,  the  doubt 
should  return  ?  Return  it  did,  in  accordance  with  the  reaction  which 
waits  upon  all  high-strung  experience.  If  he  did  not  believe  in  the  per- 
son who  performed  it,  would  any  man  long  believe  in  any  miracle  ?  Hamlet 
soon  begins  to  question  whether  he  can  with  confidence  accept  the  ap- 
pearance for  that  which  it  appeared  and  asserted  itself  to  be.  He  steps 
over  to  the  stand-point  of  his  judges,  and  doubts  the  only  testimony  he 
has  to  produce.  Far  more  : — was  he  not  bound  in  common  humanity, 
not  to  say  filialness,  to  doubt  it  ?  To  doubt  the  Ghost,  was  to  doubt  a 
testimony  which  to  accept  was  to  believe  his  father  in  horrible  suffering, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  115 

his  uncle  a  murderer,  his  mother  at  least  an  adulteress ;  to  kill  his  uncle 
was  to  set  his  seal  to  the  whole,  and,  besides,  to  bring  his  mother  into 
frightful  suspicion  of  complicity  in  his  father's  murder.  Ought  not  the 
faintest  shadow  of  a  doubt,  assuaging  ever  so  little  the  glare  of  the  hell- 
sun  of  such  crime,  to  be  welcome  to  the  tortured  heart  ?  Wretched  wife 
and  woman  as  his  mother  had  shown  herself,  the  Ghost  would  have  him 
think  her  far  worse — perhaps  even  accessory  to  her  husband's  murder  ! 
For  action  he  must  have  proof ! 

At  the  same  time,  what  every  one  knew  of  his  mother,  coupled  now 
with  the  mere  idea  of  the  Ghost's  accusation,  wrought  in  him  such  misery, 
roused  in  him  so  many  torturing  and  unanswerable  questions,  so  blotted 
the  face  of  the  universe  and  withered  the  heart  of  hope,  that  he  could 
not  but  doubt  whether,  in  such  a  world  of  rogues  and  false  women,  it 
was  worth  his  while  to  slay  one  villain  out  of  the  swarm. 

Ophelia's  behaviour  to  him,  in  obedience  to  her  father,  of  which  she 
gives  him  no  explanation,  has  added  '  the  pangs  of  disprized  love,'  and 
increased  his  doubts  of  woman-kind.     1 20 

But  when  his  imagination,  presenting  afresh  the  awful  interview, 
brings  him  more  immediately  under  the  influence  of  the  apparition  and 
its  behest,  he  is  for  the  moment  delivered  both  from  the  stunning  effect 
of  its  communication  and  his  doubt  of  its  truth  ;  forgetting  then  the  con- 
siderations that  have  wrought  in  him,  he  accuses  himself  of  remissness, 
blames  himself  grievously  for  his  delay.  Soon,  however,  his  senses  resume 
their  influence,  and  he  doubts  again.  So  goes  the  mill-round  of  his 
thoughts,  with  the  revolving  of  many  wheels. 

His  whole  conscious  nature  is  frightfully  shaken  :  he  would  be  the 
poor  creature  most  of  his  critics  would  make  of  him,  were  it  otherwise  ;  it 
is  because  of  his  greatness  that  he  suffers  so  terribly,  and  doubts  so 
much.  A  mother's  crime  is  far  more  paralyzing  than  a  father's  murder  is 
stimulating;  and  either  he  has  not  set  himself  in  thorough  earnest  to  find 
the  proof  he  needs,  or  he  has  as  yet  been  unable  to  think  of  any  service- 
able means  to  the  end,  when  the  half  real,  half  simulated  emotion  of  the 
Player  yet  again  rouses  in  him  the  sense  of  remissness,  leads  him  to  accuse 
himself  of  forgotten  obligation  and  heartlessness.  and  simultaneously 
suggests  a  device  for  putting  the  Ghost  and  his  words  to  the  test.  Instantly 
he  seizes  the  chance  :  when  a  thing  has  to  be  done,  and  can  be  done, 
Hamlet  is  never  wanting  —shows  himself  the  very  promptest  of  men. 

In  the  last  passage  of  this  act  I  do  not  take  it  that  he  is  expressing 
an  idea  then  first  occurring  to  him  :  that  the  whole  thing  may  be  a  snare 
of  the  devil  is  a  doubt  with  which  during  weeks  he  has  been  familiar. 

The  delay  through  which,  in  utter  failure  to  comprehend  his  character, 
he  has  been  so  miserably  misjudged,  falls  really  between  the  first  and 
second  acts,  although  it  seems  in  the  regard  of  most  readers  to  underlie 
and  protract  the  whole  play.  Its  duration  is  measured  by  the  journey  of 
the  ambassadors  to  and  from  the  neighbouring  kingdom  of  Norway. 

It  is  notably  odd,  by  the  way,  that  those  who  accuse  Hamlet  of 
inaction,  are  mostly  the  same  who  believe  his  madness  a  reality  !  In 
truth,  however,  his  affected  madness  is  one  of  the  strongest  signs  of  his 
activity,  and  his  delay  one  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  his  sanity. 

This  second  act,  the  third  act,  and  a  part  always  given  to  the  fourth, 
but  which  really  belongs  to  the  third,  occupy  in  all  only  one  day. 

1  2 


u6         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 


Enter  King,  Queene,  Polonius,  Ophelia,  Rosincrance, 

Guildenstem,  and  Lords}  •  Guyidemur** 

'  Lords. 

72         King.  And  can  you  by  no  drift  of  circumstance  An  can  1  of 

conference 

Get  from  him  why  he  puts  on  2  this  Confusion  : 
Grating  so  harshly  all  his  dayes  of  quiet 
With  turbulent  and  dangerous  Lunacy. 

Rosin.  He  does  confesse  he  feeles  himselfe  dis- 
tracted, 
92  But  from  what  cause  he  will  by  no  meanes  speake.  a  win 

Guil.  Nor   do   we   finde   him    forward    to    be 
sounded, 
But  with  a  crafty  Madnesse  3  keepes  aloofe  : 
When  we  would  bring  him  on  to  some  Confession 
Of  his  true  state, 

Qu.  Did  he  receiue  you  well  ? 

Rosin.  Most  like  a  Gentleman. 

Guild.  But  with  much  forcing  of  his  disposition.4 

Rosin.  Niggard  of  question,  but  of  our  demands 
Most  free  in  his  reply.5 

Qu.  Did  you  assay  him  to  any  pastime  ? 

Rosin.  Madam,    it   so    fell    out,    that    certaine 
Players 
We  ore-wrought  on  the  way:  of  these  we  told  him,  ore-raught* 
And  there  did  seeme  in  him  a  kinde  of  ioy 
To  heare  of  it:  They  are  about  the  Court,  are heere about 

And  (as  I  thinke)  they  haue  already  order 
This  night  to  play  before  him. 

Pol.  'Tis  most  true  : 
And  he  beseech'd  me  to  intreate  your  Maiesties 
To  heare,  and  see  the  matter. 

King.  With  all   my  heart,  and   it  doth  much 
content  me 
To  heare  him  so  inclin'd.     Good  Gentlemen, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE,  117 


1  This  may  be  regarded  as  the  commencement  of  the  Third  Act. 

2  The  phrase  seems  to  imply  a  doubt  of  the  genuineness   of  the 
lunacy. 


Nominative  pronoun  omitted  here. 


4  He  has  noted,  without  understanding  them,  the  signs  of  Hamlet's 
suspicion  of  themselves. 

5  Compare  the  seemingly  opposite  statements  of  the  two  :  Hamlet 
had  bewildered  them. 


6  over-reached— came  up  with,  caught  up,  overtook 


n8         THE    TR  AG  ED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Giue  him  a  further  edge,1  and  driue  his  purpose  on  purpose  into 
To  these  delights. 

Rosin.  We  shall  my  Lord.  Exeunt.  Exeunt  r«$. 

J  &  Guy l. 

King.  Sweet  Gertrude  leaue  vs  too,  •  Gertrard\ 

two 

For  we  haue  closely  sent  for  Hamlet  hither, 
84   That  he,  as  'twere  by  accident,  may  there  heere 

Affront2    Ophelia.      Her    Father,    and    my    selfe 

3  (lawful  espials)  4 
Will  so  bestow  our  selues,.  that  seeing  vnseene 
We  may  of  their  encounter  frankely  iudge, 
And  gather  by  him,  as  he  is  behaued, 
I  ft  be  th'affiiction  of  his  loue,  or  no. 
That  thus  he  suffers  for. 

Qu.  I  shall  obey  you, 
And  for  your  part  Ophelia!'  I  do  wish 
That  your  good  Beauties  be  the  happy  cause 
Of  Hamlets  wildenesse  :  so  shall  I  hope  your  Vertues 
240  Will  bring  him  to  his  wonted  way  againe, 
To  both  your  Honors.6 

Ophe.  Madam,  I  wish  it  may. 

Pol.  Ophelia,    walke  you  heere.      Gracious  so 
please  ye  7  you, 

We  will  bestow  our  selues :  Reade  on  this  booke,8 
That  shew  of  such  an  exercise  may  colour 
Your  lonelinesse.9     We  are  oft  too  blame  in  this,10   lowiines; 
'Tis  too  much  prou'd,  that  with  Deuotions  visage, 
And  pious  Action,  we  do  surge  o're  sugar 

The  diuell  himselfe. 
161         King.  Oh  'tis  true  : 

How  smart  a  lash  that  speech  doth  giue  my  Con- 
science ? 
The  Harlots  Cheeke  beautied  with  plaist'ring  Art 
Is  not  more  vgly  to  the  thing  that  helpes  it,11 
Then  is  my  deede,  to  my  most  painted  word.12 
Oh  heauie  burthen  ! 13 


tis  too  true 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  119 

1  '•edge  him  on' — somehow  corrupted  into  egg. 


2  confront 

s  Clause  i7t  pare?ithesis  not  in  Q. 

4  — apologetic  to  the  queen. 


5  — going  UP  t°  Ophelia — I  would  say,  who  stands  at  a  little  distance, 
and  has  not  heard  what  has  been  passing  between  them. 

6  The  queen  encourages   Ophelia  in  hoping  to  marry  Hamlet,  and 
may  so  have  a  share  in  causing  a  certain  turn  her  madness  takes. 


— aside  to  the  king 

— to  Ophelia  :  her  prayer-book.     122 
1st  Q.     And  here  Ofelia,  reade  you  on  this  booke, 
And  walke  aloofe,  the  King  shal  be  vnseene. 
-aside  to  the  king.     I  insert  these  asides,  and  suggest  the  queen's 
going  up  to  Ophelia,  to  show  how  we  may  easily  hold  Ophelia  ignorant 
of  their  plot.     Poor  creature  as  she  was,  I   would  believe   Shakspere 
did  not  mean  her  to  lie  to  Hamlet.     This  may  be  why  he  omitted  that 
part  of  her  father's  speech  in  the  1st  Q.  given  in  the  note  immediately 
above,  telling  her  the  king  is  going  to  hide.     Still,  it  would  be  excuse 
enough  for  her,  that  she  thought  his  madness  justified  the  deception.. 


10 


11  — ugly  to  the  paint  that  helps  by  hiding  it — to  which  it  lies  so 
close,  and  from  which  it  has  no  secrets.  Or,  '  ugly  to'  may  mean,  '  ugly 
compared  with! 

12  '  most  painted' — very  much  painted.  His  painted  word  is  the  paint 
to  the  deed.     Painted  may  be  taken  for  full  of  paint. 

13  This  speech  of  the  king  is  the  first  assurance  we  have  of  his  guilt. 


i2o         THE    TRACE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Pol.  I  hcarc  him  commincr,  let's  withdraw  my  co.7Jn?' 
Lord.  Exeunt} 

Enter  Hamlet? 

Ham.  To  be,  or  not  to  be,  that  is  the  Question  : 
Whether  'tis  Nobler  in  the  mindc  to  suffer 
The  Slings  and  Arrowes  of  outragious  Fortune, 
200,250  Or  to  take  Armes  against  a  Sea  of  troubles,3 
And  by  opposing  end  them  : 4  to  dye,  to  sleepe 
No  more  ;  and  by  a  sleepe,  to  say  we  end 
The  Heart-ake,  and  the  thousand  Naturall  shockes 
That  Flesh  is  heyre  too  ?      Tis  a  consummation 
Deuoutly  to  be  wish'd.5     To  dye  to  sleepe, 
To  sleepe,  perchance  to  Dreame  ;6  I,  there's  the  rub, 
For  in  that  sleepe  of  death,  what7  dreames  may 

come,8 
When  we  haue  shufflerd  off  this  mortall  cofle, 

186  Must  giue  vs  pawse.9      There's  the  respect 
That  makes  Calamity  of  so  long  life : 10 
For  who  would  beare  the  Whips  and  Scornesof  time, 
The  Oppressors  wrong,  the  poore  mans  Contumely,  proude  mans 

JI4  The  pangs  of  dispriz'd  Loue,11  the  Lawes  delay,        despiz'd 
The  insolence  of  Office,  and  the  Spumes 
That  patient  merit  of  the  vnworthy  takes,  tf»* 

When  he  himselfe  might  his  Quietus  make 
194,252-3   With  a  bare  Bodkin?  12  Who  would  these  FardTes13  would fardeb 
beare 
To  grunt  and  sweat  vnder  a  weary  life, 

194  But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death,14 
The  vndiscouered  Countrey,  from  whose  Borne 
No  Traueller  returnes,15  Puzels  the  will, 
And  makes  vs  rather  beare  those  illes  we  haue, 
Then  flye  to  others  that  we  know  not  of. 
Thus  Conscience  does  make  Cowards  of  vs  all,16 
30  And  thus  the  Natiue  hew  of  Resolution  17 

Is  sicklied  o're,  with  the  pale  cast  of  Thought,18        sickied 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  121 


1  Not  in  Q. — They  go  behind  the  tapestry,  where  it  hangs  over  the 
recess  of  the  doorway.     Ophelia  thinks  they  have  left  the  room. 

2  /;/  Q.  before  last  speech. 


3  Perhaps  to  a  Danish  or  Dutch  critic,  or  one  from  the  eastern  coast 
of  England,  this  simile  would  not  seem  so  unfit  as  it  does  to  some. 

4  To  print  this  so  as  I  would  have  it  read,  I  would  complete  this  line 
from  here  with  points,  and  commence  the  next  with  points.  At  the  other 
breaks  of  the  soliloquy,  as  indicated  below,  I  would  do  the  same — thus  : 

And  by  opposing  end  them 

To  die—  to  sleep, 

5  Break 

6  Break 

7  Emphasis  on  what. 

8  Such  dreams  as  the  poor  Ghost's. 

9  Break. — ' pawse"*  is  the  noun,  and  from  its  use  at  page  186,  we  may 
judge  it  means  here  '  pause  for  reflection.' 

10  '  makes  calamity  so  long-lived.' 

11  — not  necessarily  disprized  by  the  lady  ;  the  disprizer  in  Hamlet's 
case  was  the  worldly  and  suspicious  father — and  that  in  part,  and  seem- 
ingly to  Hamlet  altogether,  for  the  king's  sake. 

13  small  sword.  If  there  be  here  any  allusion  to  suicide,  it  is  on  the 
general  question,  and  with  no  special  application  to  himself.  24.  But  it  is 
the  king  and  the  bare  bodkin  his  thought  associates.  How  could  he 
even  glance  at  the  things  he  has  just  mentioned,  as  each  a  reason  for 
suicide  ?  It  were  a  cowardly  country  indeed  where  the  question  might  be 
asked,  '  Who  would  not  commit  suicide  because  of  any  one  of  these 
things,  except  on  account  of  what  may  follow  after  death  ? '  !  One  might 
well,  however,  be  tempted  to  destroy  an  oppressor,  and  risk  his  life  in  that. 

13  Fardel,  burden  :  the  old  French  for  fardeau,  I  am  informed. 

14  — a  dread  caused  by  conscience. 

15  The  Ghost  could  not  be  imagined  as  having  returned. 

16  '  of  us  all '  not  in  Q. 

It  is  not  the  fear  of  evil  that  makes  us  cowards,  but  the  fear  of 
deserved  evil.  The  Poet  may  intend  that  conscience  alone  is  the  cause 
of  fear  in  man.  '  Coward'  does  not  here  involve  contempt :  it  should  be 
spoken  with  a  grim  smile.  But  Hamlet  would  hardly  call  turning  from 
suicide  cowardice  in  any  sense.    24 

17  —such  as  was  his  when  he  vowed  vengeance 

18  — such  as  immediately  followed  on  that 

The  native  hue  of  resolution— that  which  is  natural  to  man  till  inter- 
ruption comes — is  ruddy  ;  the  hue  of  thought  is  pale.  I  suspect  the  •  pale 
cast1  of  an  allusion  to  whitening  with  rough-cast. 


T22         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

And  enterprizes  of  great  pith  and  moment,1  pitch 


awry 


With  this  regard  their  Currants  turne  away, 
And  loose  the  name  of  Action.2     Soft  you  now, 
119  The  faire  Ophelia  ?  Nimph,  in  thy  Orizons3 
Be  all  my  sinnes  remembred.4 

OpJie.  Good  my  Lord, 
How  does  your  Honor  for  this  many  a  day  ? 

Ham.  I  humbly  thanke  you  :  well,  well,  well.5 

Ophe.  My  Lord,  I  haue  Remembrances  of  yours, 
That  I  haue  longed  long  to  re-deliuer. 
I  pray  you  now,  receiue  them. 

Ham.  No,  no,  I  neuer  gaue  you  ought.6  ^  i. 

Ophe.  My  honor'd    Lord,    I    know    right  well  you  know 
you  did, 
And  with  them  words  of  so  sweet  breath  compos'd, 
As  made  the  things  more  rich,  then  perfume  left :     $«?•  thi"£s  I 

0  '  L  their  perfume 

Take  these  againe,  for  to  the  Noble  minde 

Rich  gifts  wax  poorer  when  giuers  proue  vnkinde. 

There  my  Lord.8 

Ham.  Ha,  ha  :  Are  you  honest  ?  * 

Ophe.  My  Lord. 

Ham.  Are  you  faire  ? 

Ophe.  What  meanes  your  Lordship  ? 

Ham.  That  if  you  be  honest  and  faire,  your  faire  you 

*  *  should  admit 

Honesty 10  should  admit  no  discourse  to  your  Beautie. 
Ophe.  Could    Beautie   my    Lord,  haue   better 
Comerce  "  then  your  Honestie  ? ,2  Then  with 

*  honestie? 

Ham.  I  trulie :  for  the  power  of  Beautie,  will 
sooner  transforme  Honestie  from  what  it  is,  to  a 
Bawd,  then  the  force  of  Honestie  can  translate 
Beautie  into  his  likenesse.  This  was  sometime  a 
Paradox,  but  now  the  time  giues  it  proofe.  I  did 
loue  you  once.13 

Ophe.  Indeed  my  Lord,  you  made  me  beleeue 
so. 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  123 

1  How  could  suicide  be  styled  an  enterprise  of  great  pithl  Yet  less 
could  it  be  called  of  great  pitch. 

2  I  allow  this  to  be  a  general  reflection,  but  surely  it  serves  to  show 
that  conscience  must  at  least  be  one  of  Hamlet's  restraints. 

3  — by  way  of  intercession 

4  For  note  see  foot  of  page. 

5  One  '  well '  only  in  Q. 

6  He  does  not  want  to  take  them  back,  and  so  sever  even  that  weak 
bond  between  them.     He  has  not  given  her  up. 

7  The  Q.  reading  seems  best.  The  perfume  of  his  gifts  was  the  sweet 
words  with  which  they  were  given ;  those  words  having  lost  their  savour, 
the  mere  gifts  were  worth  nothing. 

8  Released  from  the  commands  her  father  had  laid  upon  her,  and 
emboldened  by  the  queen's  approval  of  more  than  the  old  relation  be- 
tween them,  she  would  timidly  draw  Hamlet  back  to  the  past— to  love 
and  a  sound  mind. 

9  I  do  not  here  suppose  a  noise  or  movement  of  the  arras,  or  think 
that  the  talk  from  this  point  bears  the  mark  of  the  madness  he  would 
have  assumed  on  the  least  suspicion  of  espial.  His  distrust  of  Ophelia 
comes  from  a  far  deeper  source — suspicion  of  all  women,  grown  doubtful  to 
him  through  his  mother.  Hopeless  for  her,  he  would  give  his  life  to  know 
that  Ophelia  was  not  like  her.  Hence  the  cruel  things  he  says  to  her 
here  and  elsewhere  ;  they  are  the  brood  of  a  heart  haunted  with  horrible, 
alas  !  too  excusable  phantoms  of  distrust.  A  man  wretched  as  Hamlet 
must  be  forgiven  for  being  rude ;  it  is  love  suppressed,  love  that  can 
neither  breathe  nor  burn,  that  makes  him  rude.  His  horrid  insinuations 
are  a  hungry  challenge  to  indignant  rejection.  He  would  sting  Ophelia 
to  defence  of  herself  and  her  sex.  But,  either  from  her  love,  or  from 
gentleness  to  his  supposed  madness,  as  afterwards  in  the  play-scene,  or 
from  the  poverty  and  weakness  of  a  nature  so  fathered  and  so  brothered, 
she  hears,  and  says  nothing.    139 

10  Honesty  is  here  figured  as  a  porter, — just  after,  as  a  porter  that 
may  be  corrupted. 

11  If  the  Folio  reading  is  right,  commerce  means  companionship  J  if  the 
Quarto  reading,  then  it  means  intercourse.  Note  then  constantly  for  our 
than. 

12  I  imagine  Ophelia  here  giving  Hamlet  a  loving  look — which  hardens 
him.  But  I  do  not  think  she  lays  emphasis  on  your ;  the  word  is  here, 
I  take  it,  used  (as  so  often  then)  impersonally. 

13  '  — proof  in  you  and  me  :  /  loved  you  once,  but  my  honesty  did  not 
translate  your  beauty  into  its  likeness.' 


4  Note  the  entire  change  of  mood  from  that  of  the  last  soliloquy. 

The  right  understanding  of  this  soliloquy  is  indispensable  to  the 
right  understanding  of  Hamlet.  But  we  are  terribly  trammelled  and 
hindered,  as  in  the  understanding  of  Hamlet  throughout,  so  here  in  the 
understanding  of  his  meditation,  by  traditional  assumption.  I  was  roused 
to  think  in  the  right  direction  concerning  it,  by  the  honoured  friend  and 


124         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

relative  to  whom  I  have  feebly  acknowledged  my  obligation  by  dedicating 
to  him  this  book.  I  could  not  at  first  see  it  as  he  saw  it :  '  Think  about  it, 
and  you  will,'  he  said.  I  did  think,  and  by  degrees — not  very  quickly — 
my  prejudgments  thinned,  faded,  and  almost  vanished.  I  trust  I  see  it 
now  as  a  whole,  and  in  its  true  relations,  internal  and  external — its  rela- 
tions to  itself,  to  the  play,  and  to  the  Hamlet  of  Shakspere. 

Neither  in  its  first  verse,  then,  nor  in  it  anywhere  else,  do  I  find  even 
an  allusion  to  suicide.  What  Hamlet  is  referring  to  in  the  said  first  verse, 
it  is  not  possible  with  certainty  to  determine,  for  it  is  but  the  vanishing 
ripple  of  a  preceding  ocean  of  thought,  from  which  he  is  just  stepping 
out  upon  the  shore  of  the  articulate.  He  may  have  been  plunged  in 
some  profound  depth  of  the  metaphysics  of  existence,  or  he  may  have 
been  occupied  with  the  one  practical  question,  that  of  the  slaying  of  his 
uncle,  which  has,  now  in  one  form,  now  in  another,  haunted  his  spirit  for 
weeks.  Perhaps,  from  the  message  he  has  just  received,  he  expects  to 
meet  the  king,  and  conscience,  confronting  temptation,  has  been  urging 
the  necessity  of  proof ;  perhaps  a  righteous  consideration  of  conse- 
quences, which  sometimes  have  share  in  the  primary  duty,  has  been 
making  him  shrink  afresh  from  the  shedding  of  blood,  for  every  thoughtful 
mind  recoils  from  the  irrevocable,  and  that  is  an  awful  form  of  the 
irrevocable.  But  whatever  thought,  general  or  special,  this  first  verse 
may  be  dismissing,  we  come  at  once  thereafter  into  the  light  of  a  definite 
question:  'Which  is  nobler — to  endure  evil  fortune,  or  to  oppose  it 
a  ontrance;  to  bear  in  passivity,  or  to  resist  where  resistance  is  hope- 
less—resist to  the  last-  to  the  death  which  is  its  unavoidable  end?' 

Then  comes  a  pause,  during  which  he  is  thinking — we  will  not  say 
1  too  precisely  on  the  event,'  but  taking  his  account  with  consequences  : 
the  result  appears  in  the  uttered  conviction  that  the  extreme  possible 
consequence,  death,  is  a  good  and  not  an  evil.  Throughout,  observe, 
how  here,  as  always,  he  generalizes,  himself  being  to  himself  but  the  type 
of  his  race. 

Then  follows  another  pause,  during  which  he  seems  prosecuting  the 
thought,  for  he  has  already  commenced  further  remark  in  similar  strain, 
when  suddenly  a  new  and  awful  element  introduces  itself : 

.     , To  die — to  sleep. — 

— To  sleep  !  perchance  to  dream  ! 

He  had  been  thinking  of  death  only  as  the  passing  away  of  the  pres- 
ent with  its  troubles  ;  here  comes  the  recollection  that  death  has  its  own 
troubles — its  own  thoughts,  its  own  consciousness  :  if  it  be  a  sleep,  it 
has  its  dreams.  '  What  dreams  may  come '  means,  '  the  sort  of  dreams 
that  may  come';  the  emphasis  is  on  the  what,  not  on  the  may,  there 
is  no  question  whether  dreams  will  come,  but  there  is  question  of  the 
character  of  the  dreams.  This  consideration  is  what  makes  calamity  so 
long-lived  !  •  For  who  would  bear  the  multiform  ills  of  life  ' — he  alludes 
to  his  own  wrongs,  but  mingles,  in  his  generalizing  way,  others  of  those 
most  common  to  humanity,  and  refers  to  the  special  cure  for  some  of  his 
own  which  was  close  to  his  hand — '  who  would  bear  these  things  if  he  could, 
as  I  can,  make  his  quietus  with  a  bare  bodkin ' — that  is,  by  slaying  his 
enemy — '  who  would  then  bear  them,  but  that  he  fears  the  future,  and  the 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  125 

divine  judgment  upon  his  life  and  actions — that  conscience  makes  a 
coward  of  him  ! '  * 

To  run,  not  the  risk  of  death,  but  the  risks  that  attend  upon  and 
follow  death,  Hamlet  must  be  certain  of  what  he  is  about ;  he  must  be 
sure  it  is  a  right  thing  he  does,  or  he  will  leave  it  undone.  Compare  his 
speech,  250,  '  Does  it  not,  &c.' : — by  the  time  he  speaks  this  speech,  he 
has  had  perfect  proof,  and  asserts  the  righteousness  of  taking  vengeance 
in  almost  an  agony  of  appeal  to  Horatio. 

The  more  continuous  and  the  more  formally  logical  a  soliloquy,  the 
less  natural  it  is.  The  logic  should  be  all  there,  but  latent ;  the  bones 
of  it  should  not  show  :  they  do  not  show  here. 


*  That  the  Great  Judgment  was  here  in  Shakspere's  thought,  will  be  plain  to  those  who  take 
light  from  the  corresponding  passage  in  the  ist  Quarto.  As  it  makes  an  excellent  specimen  of 
that  issue  in  the  character  I  am  most  inclined  to  attribute  to  it  — that  of  original  sketch  and  con- 
tinuous line  of  notes,  with  more  or  less  finished  passages  in  place  among  the  notes— I  will  here 
quote  it,  recommending  it  to  my  student's  attention.  If  it  be  what  I  suggest,  it  is  clear  that 
Shakspere  had  not  at  first  altogether  determined  how  he  would  carry  the  soliloquy— what  line 
he  was  going  to  follow  in  it :  here  hope  and  fear  contend  for  the  place  of  motive  to  patience-  The 
changes  from  it  in  the  text  are  well  worth  noting  ;  the  religion  is  lessened  ;  the  hope  disappears  : 
were  they  too  much  of  pearls  to  cast  before  '  barren  spectators '  ?  The  manuscript  could  never 
have  been  meant  for  any  eye  but  his  own,  seeing  it  was  possible  to  print  from  it  such  a  chaos — 
over  which  yet  broods  the  presence  of  the  formative  spirit  of  the  Poet. 

Ham.    To  be,  or  not  to  be,  I  there's  the  point, 
To  Die,  to  sleepe,  is  that  all  ?    I  all : 
No,  to  sleepe,  to  dreame,  I  mary  there  it  goes, 
For  in  that  dreame  of  death,  when  wee  awake, 
24,  247,  260    And  borne  before  an  euerlasting  Iudge, 
From  whence  no  passenger  euer  retur'nd, 
The  vndiscouered  country,  at  whose  sight 
The  happy  smile,  and  the  accursed  damn'd. 
But  for  this,  the  ioyfull  hope  of  this, 
Whol'd  beare  the  scornes  and  flattery  of  the  world, 
Scorned  by  the  right  rich,  the  rich  curssed  of  the  poore? 
The  widow  being  oppressed,  the  orphan  wrong'd, 
The  taste  of  hunger,  or  a  tirants  raigne, 
And  thousand  more  calamities  besides, 
To  grunt  and  sweate  vnder  this  weary  life, 
When  that  he  may  his  full  Quietus  make, 
With  a  bare  bodkin,  who  would  this  indure, 
But  for  a  hope  of  something  after  death  ? 
Which  pusles  the  braine,  and  doth  confound  the  sence, 
Which  makes  vs  rather  beare  those  euilles  we  haue, 
Than  flie  to  others  that  we  know  not  of. 
I  that,  O  this  conscience  makes  cowardes  of  vs  all, 
Lady  in  thy  orizons,  be  all  my  sinnes  remembred. 


62 


126         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  You  should  not  haue  belecued  me.  For 
vertue  cannot  so  innocculate  ]  our  old  stocke,2  but 
we  shall  rellish  of  it.3     I  loued  you  not.4 

Ophe.   I  was  the  more  deceiued. 

Ham.  Get  thee  to  a  Nunnerie.  Why  would'st  thee  a 
thou  be  a  breeder  of  Sinners  ?  I  am  my  selfe  in- 
132  different5  honest,  but  yet  I  could  accuse  me  of 
such  things/'  that  it  were  better  my  Mother  had 
not  borne  me.7  I  am  very  prowd,  reuengefull, 
Ambitious,  with  more  offences  at  my  becke,  then  I 
haue  thoughts  to  put  them  in  imagination,  to  giue 
them  shape,  or  time  to  acte  them  in.  What  should 
such  Fellowes  as  I  do,  crawling  bctweene  Heauen  earth  and 

heauen, 

and  Earth.8  We  are  arrant  Knaues  all 10,  beleeue 
none  of  vs.9  Goe  thy  wayes  to  a  Nunnery. 
Where's  your  Father  ?  ,J 

Ophe.  At  home,  my  Lord.12 

Ham.  Let  the  doores  be  shut  vpon  him,  that 
he  may  play  the  Foole  no  way,  but  in's  owne  house.13  no  whan  but 
Farewell.14 

Ophe.  O  helpe  him,  you  sweet  Heauens. 

Ham}h  If  thou  doest  Marry,  He  giue  thee  this 
Plague  for  thy  Dowrie.  Be  thou  as  chast  as  Ice, 
as  pure  as  Snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape  Calumny.16 
Get  thee  to  a  Nunnery.  Go,17  Farewell.'8  Or  if 
thou  wilt  needs  Marry,  marry  a  fool :  for  Wise  men 
know  well  enough,  what  monsters19  you  make  of 
them.  To  a  Nunnery  go,  and  quickly  too.  Far- 
well.20 

Ophe.  O  21  heauenly  Powers,  restore  him. 

Ham?2  I  haue  heard  of  your  pratlings23  too  wel  your  paintings 
enough.     God  has  giuen  you  one  pace,23  and  you  hath  |  one  face, 
make  your  selfe  another :  you  gidge,  you  amble,  jJJjiJJ1^ 
and  you  lispe,  and  nickname  Gods  creatures,  and  SiJ°u 
make  your  Wantonnesse,  your24  Ignorance.25     Go 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  127 

1  '  inoculate ' — bud,  in  the  horticultural  use 

2  trunk  or  stem  of  the  family  tree 

3  Emphasis  on  relish— ■*  keep  something  of  the  old  flavour  of  the 
stock.' 

4  He  tries  her  now  with  denying  his  love — perhaps  moved  in  part 
by  a  feeling,  taught  by  his  mother's,  of  how  imperfect  it  was. 

5  tolerably 

6  He  turns  from  baiting  woman  in  her  to  condemn  himself.  Is  it 
not  the  case  with  every  noble  nature,  that  the  knowledge  of  wrong  in 
another  arouses  in  it  the  consciousness  of  its  own  faults  and  sins,  of  its 
own  evil  possibilities  ?  Hurled  from  the  heights  of  ideal  humanity, 
Hamlet  not  only  recognizes  in  himself  every  evil  tendency  of  his  race, 
but  almost  feels  himself  individually  guilty  of  every  transgression.  '  God, 
God,  forgive  us  all  ! '  exclaims  the  doctor  who  has  just  witnessed  the 
misery  of  Lady  Macbeth,  unveiling  her  guilt. 

This  whole  speech  of  Hamlet  is  profoundly  sane— looking  therefore 
altogether  insane  to  the  shallow  mind,  on  which  the  impression  of  its  in- 
sanity is  deepened  by  its  coming  from  him  so  freely.  The  common 
nature  disappointed  rails  at  humanity ;  Hamlet,  his  earthly  ideal  de- 
stroyed, would  tear  his  individual  human  self  to  pieces. 

7  This  we  may  suppose  uttered  with  an  expression  as  startling  to 
Ophelia  as  impenetrable. 

8  He  is  disgusted  with  himself,  with  his  own  nature  and  conscious- 
ness— 

9  — and  this  reacts  on  his  kind. 

10  'all'  not  in  Q. 

11  Here,  perhaps,  he  grows  suspicious— asks  himself  why  he  is  allowed 
this  prolonged  tete  a  tete. 

12  I  am  willing  to  believe  she  thinks  so. 

13  Whether  he  trusts  Ophelia  or  not,  he  does  not  take  her  statement 
for  correct,  and  says  this  in  the  hope  that  Polonius  is  not  too  far  off  to 
hear  it.  The  speech  is  for  him,  not  for  Ophelia,  and  will  seem  to  her  to 
come  only  from  his  madness. 

»  Exit 

ia  [re-entering) 

M  '  So  many  are  bad,  that  your  virtue  will  nut  be  believed  in.' 

17  <  Go  '  not  in  Q. 

18  Exit,  and  re-enter, 

19  Cornuti. 

20  Exit. 

21  <  O  '  not  in  Q. 

22  {re-entering) 

23  I  suspect  pratlings  to  be  a  corruption,  not  of  the  printed  paintings, 
but  of  some  word  substituted  for  it  by  the  Poet,  perhaps  prancings,  and 
pace  to  be  correct. 

24  '  your '  not  in  Q. 

25  As  the  present  type  to  him  of  womankind,  he  assails  her  with  such 
charges  of  lightness  as  are  commonly  brought  against  women.  He  does 
not  go  farther  :  she  is  not  his  mother,  and  he  hopes  she  is  innocent. 
But  he  cannot  make  her  speak  ! 


128         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

too,  He  no  more  on't,  it  hath  made  me  mad.    I  say, 

we  will  haue  no  more  Marriages.1     Those  that  are  no  mo 

marriage, 

married  already,2  all   but  one  shall  Hue,  the  rest 
shall  keep  as  they  are.     To  a  Nunnery,  gd. 

Exit  Hamlet.  Exit. 
3  Ophe.  O  what  a  Noble  minde    is  heere  o're- 

throwne  ? 
The   Courtiers,   Soldiers,   Schollers :    Eye,  tongue, 

sword, 
Th'expectansie  and  Rose4  of  the  faire  State,  tv  expect* 

The  glasse  of  Fashion,5  and  the  mould  of  Forme/"' 
Th'obseru'd  of  all  Obseruers,  quite,  quite  downe. 
Haue  I  of  Ladies  most  deiect  and  wretched,  And  i  of 

That  suck'd  the  Honie  of  his  Musicke  Vowes :  musickt 

Now  see  that  Noble,  and  most  Soueraigne  Reason,  see  what 
Like  sweet  Bels  iangled  out  of  tune,  and  harsh,7       out  of  time 
That   vnmatch'd   Forme    and  Feature    ol  blowne  and  stature  of 

youth,8 
Blasted  with  extasie,9     Oh  woe  is  me, 
T'haue  seene  what  I  haue  seene  :  see  what  I  see.10    Exit. 

Enter  King,  and  Polonius. 

King.  Loue  ?    His  affections  do  not  that  way 

tend, 
Nor  what  he  spake,  though  it  lack'd  Forme  a  little,  Not 
Was  not  like  Madnesse.11     There's  something  in  his 

soule  ? 
O're  which  his  Melancholly  sits  on  brood, 
And  I  do  doubt  the  hatch,  and  the  disclose12 
Will  be  some  danger,11  which  to  preuent  which  for  to 

I  haue  in  quicke  determination 
158, 180  Thus  set  it  downe.    He  shall  with  speed  to  England 
For  the  demand  of  our  neglected  Tribute  : 
Haply  the  Seas  and  Countries  different 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


1  '  The  thing  must  be  put  a  stop  to  !  the  world  must  cease  !  it  is  not  fit 
to  go  on.' 

2  '  already — {aside)  all  but  one — shall  live,' 


3  1st  Q. 

Ofe.  Great  God  of  heauen,  what  a  quicke  change  is  this  ? 
The  Courtier,  Scholler,  Souldier,  all  in  him, 
All  dasht  and  splinterd  thence,  O  woe  is  me, 
To  a  seene  what  I  haue  seene,  see  what  I  see.     exit. 
To  his  cruel  words  Ophelia  is  impenetrable — from  the   conviction 
that  not  he  but  his  madness  speaks. 

The  moment  he  leaves  her,  she  breaks  out  in  such  phrase  as  a  young 
girl  would  hardly  have  used  had  she  known  that  the  king  and  her  father 
were  listening.  I  grant,  however,  the  speech  may  be  taken  as  a  soliloquy 
audible  to  the  spectators  only,  who  to  the  persons  of  a  play  are  but  the 
spiritual  presences. 

4  '  The  hope  and  flower' — The  rose  is  not  unfrequently  used  in  English 
literature  as  the  type  of  perfection. 

5  'he  by  whom  Fashion  dressed  herself — he  who  set  the  fashion.  His 
great  and  small  virtues  taken  together,  Hamlet  makes  us  think  of  sir 
Philip  Sidney — ten  years  older  than  Shakspere,  and  dead  sixteen  years 
before  Hamlet  was  written. 

6  '  he  after  whose  ways,  or  modes  of  behaviour,  men  shaped  theirs  ' — 
therefore  the  mould  in  which  their  forms  were  cast ; — the  object  of 
universal  imitation. 

7  I  do  not  know  whether  this  means — the  peal  rung  without  regard  to 
tune  or  time — or — the  single  bell  so  handled  that  the  tongue  checks  and 
jars  the  vibration.  In  some  country  places,  I  understand,  they  go  about 
ringing  a  set  of  hand-bells. 

8  youth  in  full  blossom 

9  madness     177 

10  *  to  see  now  such  a  change  from  what  I  saw  then.' 

11  The  king's  conscience  makes  him  keen.  He  is,  all  through, 
doubtful  of  the  madness. 


12  — of  the  fact-  or  fancy-egg  on  which  his  melancholy  sits  brooding 


i3o         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

With  variable  Obiects,  shall  expell 
This  something  setled  matter  l  in  his  heart 
Whereon  his  Braines  still  beating,  puts  him  thus 
From 2  fashion  of  himselfe.    What  thinke  you  on't  ? 

Pol.  It  shall  do  well.     But  yet  do  I  beleeue 
The  Origin  and  Commencement  of  this  greefe  hisgreefe, 

Sprung  from  neglected  loue.3     How  now  Ophelia  ? 
You  neede  not  tell  vs,  what  Lord  Hamlet  saide, 
We  heard  it  all.4     My  Lord,  do  as  you  please, 
But  if  you  hold  it  fit  after  the  Play, 
Let  his  Queene  Mother  all  alone  intreat  him 
To  shew  his  Greefes  :  let  her  be  round  with  him,      griefe, 
And  He  be  plac'd  so,  please  you  in  the  eare 
Of  all  their  Conference.     If  she  finde  him  not,5 
To  England  send  him  :  Or  confine  him  where 
Your  wisedome  best  shall  thinke. 

King.  It  shall  be  so  : 
Madnesse  in  great  Ones,  must  not  vnwatch'd  go.6      uamatd* 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Hamlet,  and  two  or  three  of  the  Players.       and  three 

Ham?  Speake  the   Speech    I   pray  you,  as    I 
pronounc'd  it  to  you  trippingly 8  on  the  Tongue  : 
But  if  you  mouth  it,  as  many  of  your  Players  do,  of  our  Players 
I    had    as    Hue9  the  Town-Cryer  had   spoke  my  cryer spoke 
Lines  :  10  Nor  do  not  saw  the  Ayre  too  much  your  much  with 
hand   thus,   but  vse   all   gently ;    for  in  the   verie 
Torrent,  Tempest,  and  (as  I  may  say)  the  Whirle-  say,  whirlwind 
winde  of  Passion,  you  must  acquire  and  beget  a  of  your 
Temperance  that  may  giue  it  Smoothnesse.11    O  it 
offends  mee  to  the  Soule,  to  see  a  robustious  Pery-  to  heare  a 
wig-pated    Fellow,   teare   a  Passion   to  tatters,  to  totters, 
verie  ragges,  to  split  the  eares  of  the  Groundlings  : 12  spieet 
who  (for  the  most  part)  are  capeable  l3  of  nothing, 
but  inexplicable  dumbe  shewes,14  and  noise  : 15    I 
could    haue   such   a    Fellow  whipt  for  o're-doing  would 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  i3j 

1  '  something  of  settled  matter' — idee  fixe. 

2  *  away  from  his  own  true  likeness'  \  '  makes  him  so  unlike  himself.1 

3  Polonius  is  crestfallen,  but  positive. 


4  This  supports  the  notion  of  Ophelia's  ignorance  of  the  espial.  Polonius 
thinks  she  is  about  to  disclose  what  has  passed,  and  informs  her  of  its 
needlessness.  But  it  might  well  enough  be  taken  as  only  an  assurance 
of  the  success  of  their  listening— that  they  had  heard  without  difficulty. 


5  '  If  she  do  not  find  him  out ' :  a  comparable  phrase,  common  at  the 
time,  was,  Take  me  with  you,  meaning,  Let  me  understand you. 

Polonius,  for  his  daughter's  sake,  and  his  own  in  her,  begs  for  him 
another  chance. 

c  '  in  the  insignificant,  madness  may  roam  the  country,  but  in  the  great  it 
must  be  watched.'  The  unmatcht  of  the  Quarto  might  bear  the  meaning 
of  countermatched. 

7  I  should  suggest  this  exhortation  to  the  Players  introduced  with 
the  express  purpose  of  showing  how  absolutely  sane  Hamlet  was,  could 
I  believe  that  Shakspere  saw  the  least  danger  of  Hamlet's  pretence  being 
mistaken  for  reality. 

8  He  would  have  neither  blundering  nor  emphasis  such  as  might 
rouse  too  soon  the  king's  suspicion,  or  turn  it  into  certainty. 

9  'Hue'— lief 

10  ist  Q.  : —      I'de  rather  heare  a  towne  bull  bellow, 

Then  such  a  fellow  speake  my  lines. 
Lines  is  a  player-word  still. 

11  — smoothness  such  as  belongs  to  the  domain  of  Art,  and  will  both 
save  from  absurdity,  and  allow  the  relations  with  surroundings  to  manifest 
themselves; — harmoniousness,  which  is  the  possibility  of  co-existence. 

12  those  on  the  ground — that  is,  in  the  pit ;  there  was  no  gallery  then. 

13  receptive 

14  — gestures  extravagant  and  unintelligible  as  those  of  a  dumb  show 
that  could  not  by  the  beholder  be  interpreted  ;  gestures  incorrespondent 
to  the  words. 

A  dumb  show  was  a  stage-action  without  words. 

15  Speech  that  is  little  but  rant,  and  scarce  related  to  the  sense,  is 
hardly  better  than  a  noise  ;  it  might,  for  the  purposes  of  art,  as  well  be  a 
sound  inarticulate. 


i32         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF    HAMLET, 

Termagant ' :    it    out-Herod's   Herod?     Pray   you 
auoid  it. 

Player.  I  warrant  your  Honor. 

Ham.  Be  not  too  tame  neyther :  but  let  your 
ovvne  Discretion  be  your  Tutor.     Sute  the  Action 
to  the  Word,  the  Word  to  the  Action,  with  this 
speciall  obseruance :    That   you  ore-stop  not   the  ore-steppe 
modestie  of  Nature  ;  for  any  thing  so  ouer-done,  ore-doone 
is  fro  3  the  purpose  of  Playing,  whose  end  both  at 
the  first  and  now,  was  and  is,  to  hold  as  'twer  the 
Mirrour  vp  to  Nature;  to  shew  Vertue  her  owne  her  feature; 
Feature,  Scorne4  her  owne   Image,  and  the  verie 
Age  and  Bodie  of  the  Time,  his  forme  and  pressure.5 
Now,  this  ouer-done,  or  come  tardie  off,6  though  it 
make  the  vnskilfull    laugh,  cannot  but  make  the  it  makes 
Iudicious  greeue  ;  The  censure  of  the  which  One,7    of  which  one 
must  in  your  allowance  8  o're-way  a  whole  Theater 
of  Others.     Oh,  there   bee    Players   that    I  haue 
seene  Play,  and  heard  others  praise,  and  that  highly  praysd, 
(not  to  speake  it  prophanely)  that  neyther  hauing 
the  accent  of  Christians,  nor  the  gate  of  Christian, 
Pagan,  or  Norman,  haue  so  strutted  and  bellowed,  Pagan,  nor 

man,  haue 

that  I  haue  thought  some  of  Natures  Iouerney- 
men  had  made  men,  and  not  made  them  well,  they 
imitated  Humanity  so  abhominably.9 
126         Play.  I  hope  we  haue  reform'd  that  indifferently 10 
with  vs,  Sir.11 

Ham.  O  reforme  it  altogether.  And  let  those 
that  play  your  Clownes,  speake  no  more  then  is  set 
downe  for  them.12  For  there  be  of  them,  that  will 
themselues  laugh,  to  set  on  some  quantitie  of 
barren  Spectators  to  laugh  too,  though  in  the 
meane  time,  some  necessary  Question  of  the  Play 
be  then  to  be  considered  :12  that's  Villanous,  and 
shewes  a  most  pittifull  Ambition  in  the  Fool  that 
vses  it.13     Go  make  you  readie.  Exit  Players 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  133 

1  '  An  imaginary  God  of  the  Mahometans,  represented  as  a  most 
violent  character  in  the  old  Miracle-plays  and  Moralities.' — Sh.  Lex. 

■  '  represented  as  a  swaggering  tyrant  in  the  old  dramatic  perform- 
ances.'— Sh.  Lex. 


away  from  :  inconsistent  with; 


4  — that  which  is  deserving  of  scorn 

5  impression,  as  on  wax.  Some  would  persuade  us  that  Shakspere's 
own  plays  do  not  do  this  ;  but  such  critics  take  the  accidents  or  circum- 
stances of  a  time  for  the  body  of  it — the  clothes  for  the  person.  Human 
nature  is  '  Nature,'  however  dressed. 

There  should  be  a  comma  after  '  Age.' 

6  ■  laggingly  represented ' — A  word  belonging  to  time  is  substituted 
for  a  word  belonging  to  space  : — '  this  over-done,  or  inadequately  effected '; 
1  this  over-done,  or  under-done,' 

7  '  and  the  judgment  of  such  a  one.'  '  the  which '  seems  equivalent  to 
and— such. 

s  '  must,  you  will  grant,' 


9  Shakspere  may  here  be  praying  with  a  false  derivation,  as  I  was 
myself  when  the  true  was  pointed  out  to  me — fancying  abominable  derived 
from  ab  and  homo.  If  so,  then  he  means  by  the  phrase  :  '  they  imitated 
humanity  so  from  the  nature  of  man,  so  inhumanly? 

10  tolerably 

11  'Sir'  not  in  Q. 


12  Shakspere  must  have  himself  suffered  from  such  clowns  :  Coleridge 
thinks  some  of  their  gag  has  crept  into  his  print. 

13  Here  follow  in  the   1st  Q.   several  specimens  of  such  a  clown's 
foolish  jests  and  behaviour. 


i34         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 
Enter  Polonius*  Rosincrance,  and  Guildensterne}     GuyMemtemt, 

&*  Kosencraua. 

How  now  my  Lord, 

Will  the  King  heare  this  peecc  of  VVorke? 

Pol.  And  the  Oueene  too,  and  that  presently.2 

Ham.  Bid  the  Players  make  hast. 

Exit  Polonius? 
Will  you  two  helpe  to  hasten  them  ?  4 

Both.  We  will  my  Lord.  Exeunt.  Ros.  i  my 

J  Lord. 

Exeunt  they 

Enter  Horatio:"  two- 

Ham.  What  hoa,  Horatio  ?  what  howe, 

Hora.  Heere  sweet  Lord,  at  your  Seruiee. 
26         Ham.1  Horatio,  thou  art  eene  as  iust  a  man 
As  ere  my  Conuersation  coap'd  withall. 
Hora.  0  my  deere  Lord.6 
Ham?  Nay  do  not  thinke  I  flatter : 
For  what  aduancement  may  I  hope  from  thee,8 
That  no  Reuennew  hast,  but  thy  good  spirits 
To  feed  and  cloath  thee.     Why  shold  the  poor  be 

flatter'd  ? 
No,  let  the  Candied 9  tongue,  like  absurd  pompe,      licke 
And  crooke  the  pregnant  Hindges  of  the  knee,10 
Where  thrift  may  follow  faining?  Dost  thou  heare,  fauning; 
Since  my  deere  Soule  was  Mistris  of  my  choyse,11    her  choice, 
And  could  of  men  distinguish,  her  election 
Hath  seal'd  thee  for  her  selfe.     For  thou  hast  bene  s'hathseaid 
272   As  one  in  suffering  all,  that  suffers  nothing. 
A  man  that  Fortunes  buffets,  and  Rewards 
Hath  'tane  with  equall  Thankes.     And  blest  are  Hast 

those, 
Whose  Blood  and  Iudgement  are  so  well  co-mingled,  comedied," 
26  That  they  are  not  a  Pipe  for  Fortunes  finger, 

To  sound  what  stop  she  please.13  Giue  me  that  man, 
That  is  not  Passions  Slaue,14  and  I  will  weare  him 
In  my  hearts  Core  :   I,  in  my  Heart  of  heart,15 
As  I  do  thee.     Something  too  much  of  this.16 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  135 

1  In  O.  at  end  of  speech. 

2  He  humours  Hamlet  as  if  he  were  a  child. 

3  Not  in  Q. 

4  He  has  sent  for  Horatio,  and  is  expecting  him. 

5  In*  Q.  after  ?text  speech. 


6  — repudiating  the  praise 

7  To  know  a  man,  there  is  scarce  a  readier  way  than  to  hear  him  talk 
of  his  friend — why  he  loves,  admires,  chooses  him.  The  Poet  here  gives 
us  a  wide  window  into  Hamlet.  So  genuine  is  his  respect  for  being,  so 
indifferent  is  he  to  having,  that  he  does  not  shrink,  in  argument  for  his 
own  truth,  from  reminding  his  friend  to  his  face  that,  being  a  poor  man, 
nothing  is  to  be  gained  from  him — nay,  from  telling  him  that  it  is  through 
his  poverty  he  has  learned  to  admire  him,  as  a  man  of  courage,  temper, 
contentment,  and  independence,  with  nothing  but  his  good  spirits  for  an 
income — a  man  whose  manhood  is  dominant  both  over  his  senses  and 
over  his  fortune — a  true  Stoic.  He  describes  an  ideal  man,  then  clasps 
the  ideal  to  his  bosom  as  his  own,  in  the  person  of  his  friend.  Only  a 
great  man  could  so  worship  another,  choosing  him  for  such  qualities  ; 
and  hereby  Shakspere  shows  us  his  Hamlet — a  brave,  noble,  wise,  pure 
man,  beset  by  circumstances  the  most  adverse  conceivable. 

That  Hamlet  had  not  misapprehended  Horatio  becomes  evident  in 
the  last  scene  of  all.    272 

8  The  mother  of  flattery  is  self-advantage. 

9  sugared 

1st  Q.  Let  flattery  sit  on  those  time-pleasing  tongs, 

To  glose  with  them  that  loues  to  heare  their  praise, 
And  not  with  such  as  thou  Horatio. 
There  is  a  play  to  night,  &c. 

10  A  pregnant  figure  and  phrase,  requiring  thought. 

11  'since  my  real  self  asserted  its  dominion,  and  began  to  rule  my 
choice,'  making  it  pure,  and  withdrawing  it  from  the  tyranny  of  impulse 
and  liking. 

12  The  old  word  needle  is  synonymous  with  mingle. 

13  To  Hamlet,  the  lordship  of  man  over  himself,  despite  of  circum- 
stance, is  a  truth,  and  therefore  a  duty. 

14  The  man  who  has  chosen  his  friend  thus,  is  hardly  himself  one  to  act 
without  sufficing  reason,  or  take  vengeance  without  certain  proof  of  guilt. 

15  He  justifies  the  phrase,  repeating  it. 

16  — apologetic  for  having  praised  him  to  his  face. 


136 


THE    TRAGEDIE    OE  HAMLET, 


There  is  a  Play  to  night  before  the  King, 
One    Scoene   of    it    comes     neere    the     Circum- 
stance 
Which  I  haue  told  thee,  of  my  Fathers  death. 
I  prythee,  when  thou  see'st  that  Acte  a-foot,1 
Euen  with  the  veric  Comment  of  my  2  Soule 
Obserue  mine  Vnkle  :   If  his  occulted  guilt, 
Do  not  it  selfe  vnkennell  in  one  speech, 
58   It  is  a  damned  Ghost  that  we  haue  seene  : 3 
And  my  Imaginations  are  as  foule 
As  Vulcans  Stythe.4     Giue  him  needfull  note, 
For  I  mine  eyes  will  riuet  to  his  Face : 
And  after  we  will  both  our  Judgements  ioyne,5 
To  censure  of  his  seeming.fi 

Hora*  Well  my  Lord, 
If  he  steale  ought  the  whil'st   this  Play  is  Play- 
ing, 
And  scape  detecting,  I  will  pay  the  Theft.1 


thy  2  soule 
my  Vncle, 


stithy ;  | 
heedfull 


If  a 


detected, 


Enter  King,  Queene,  Polpnius,  Ophelia,  Rpsincrance,  petsanl 
Guildensterne,  and  other  Lords  attendant  with  Drummes, 

King,  Queene, 

his  Guard  carrying  Torches.     L)anish  March,  ffj^i?5* 


Sound  a  Flourish. 

Ham.  They  are  comming  to  the  Play :   I  must 
60,156,  be  idle.7     Get  you  a  place. 

King.  How  fares  our  Cosin  Hamlet? 

Ham.  Excellent  Ifaith,  of  the  Camelions  dish  : 
154   I  eate  the  Ayre  promise-cramm'd,8  you  cannot  feed 
Capons  so.9 

King.  I  haue  nothing  with  this  answer  Hamlet, 
these  words  are  not  mine.10 

Ham.  No,  nor   mine.      Now  n  my  Lord,  you 
plaid  once  i'th'Vniuersity,  you  say  ? 

Polon.  That  I  did  my  Lord,  and  was  accounted  did 
a  good  Actor. 


Ophelia. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  137 

1  Here  follows  in  \st  Q. 

Marke  thou  the  King,  doe  but  obserue  his  lookes, 
For  I  mine  eies  will  riuet  to  his  face  : 
112     And  if  he  doe  not  bleach,  and  change  at  that, 
It  is  a  damned  ghost  that  we  haue  seene. 
Horatio,  haue  a  care,  obserue  him  well. 

Hor.  My  lord,  mine  eies  shall  still  be  on  his  face, 
And  not  the  smallest  alteration 
That  shall  appeare  in  him,  but  I  shall  note  it. 

2  I  take  '  my  '  to  be  right :  '  watch  my  uncle  with  the  comment — the 
discriminating  judgment,  that  is — of  my  soul,  more  intent  than  thine.' 

3  He  has  then,  ere  this,  taken  Horatio  into  his  confidence — so  far  at 
least  as  the  Ghost's  communication  concerning  the  murder. 

4  a  dissyllable  :  stithy,  anvil ;  Scotch,  studdy. 

Hamlet's  doubt  is  here  very  evident :  he  hopes  he  may  find  it  a  false 
ghost :  what  good  man,  what  good  son  would  not  ?  He  has  clear  cause 
and  reason — it  is  his  duty  to  delay.  That  the  cause  and  reason  and 
duty  are  not  invariably  clear  to  Hamlet  himself — not  clear  in  every  mood, 
is  another  thing.  Wavering  conviction,  doubt  of  evidence,  the  corollaries 
of  assurance,  the  oppression  of  misery,  a  sense  of  the  worthlessness  of 
the  world's  whole  economy — each  demanding  delay,  might  yet  well,  all 
together,  affect  the  man's  feeling  as  mere  causes  of  rather  than  reasons 
for  hesitation. 

The  conscientiousness  of  Hamlet  stands  out  the  clearer  that,  through- 
out, his-  dislike  to  his  uncle,  predisposing  him  to  believe  any  ill  of  him, 
is  more  than  evident.  By  his  incompetent  or  prejudiced  judges,  Hamlet's 
accusations  and  justifications  of  himself  are  equally  placed  to  the  discredit 
of  his  account.  They  seem  to  think  a  man  could  never  accuse  himself 
except  he  were  in  the  wrong  ;  therefore  if  ever  he  excuses,  himself,  he  is 
the  more  certainly  in  the  wrong  :  whatever  point  may  tell  on  the  other 
side,  it  is  to  be  disregarded. 

5  '  bring  our  two  judgments  together  for  comparison' 

6  'in  order  to  judge  of  the  significance  of  his  looks  and  behaviour.' 

7  Does  he  mean  foolish,  that  is,  lunatic!  or  insouciant,  and  unfire- 
occuftied! 

8  The  king  asks  Hamlet  how  he  fares—  that  is,  how  he  gets  on  ; 
Hamlet  pretends  to  think  he  has  asked  him  about  his  diet.  His  talk  has 
at  once  become  wild ;  ere  the  king  enters  he  has  donned  his  cloak  of 
madness.  Here  he  confesses  to  ambition — will  favour  any  notion  con- 
cerning himself  rather  than  give  ground  for  suspecting  the  real  state  of 
his  mind  and  feeling. 

In  the  1st  Q.  'the  Camelions  dish'  almost  appears  to  mean  the  play, 
not  the  king's  promises. 

9  In  some  places  they  push  food  down  the  throats  of  the  poultry  they 
want  to  fatten,  which  is  technically,  I  believe,  called  cramming  them. 

10  '  You  have  not  taken  me  with  you ;  I  have  not  laid  hold  of  your 
meaning  ;  I  have  nothing  by  your  answer.'  '  Your  words  have  not  become 
my  property ;  they  have  not  given  themselves  to  me  in  their  meaning.' 

11  Point  thus :  '  No,  nor  mine  now. — My  Lord,'  &c.  ' — not  mine,  now 
I  have  uttered  them,  for  so  I  have  given  them  away.'  Or  does  he 
mean  to  disclaim  their  purport  ? 


13S  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  And '  what  did  you  enact  ? 

Pol.  I    did    enact   Julius    Ccesar,   I    was  kill'd 
i'th'Capitol :  Brutus  kill'd  me. 

Ham.  It  was  a  bruite  part  of  him,  to  kill  so 
Capitall  a  Calfe  there.2     Be  the  Players  ready  ? 

Rosin.  I    my   Lord,  they  stay  vpon  your  pa- 
tience. 

Qu.  Come  hither  my  good  Hamlet,  sit  by  me.     my  deer* 

Ha.  No  good  Mother,  here's  Mettle  more  attract- 
iue.3 

Pol.  Oh  ho,  do  you  marke  that  ? 4 

Ham.  Ladie,  shall  I  lye  in  your  Lap  ? 

Op  he.     No  my  Lord. 

Ham.  I  meane,  my  Head  vpon  your  Lap  ?  5 

Ophe.  I  my  Lord.6 

Ham.  Do  you  thinke  I  meant  Country 7  matters  ? 

Ophe.   I  thinke  nothing,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  That's  a  faire   thought   to   ly  between 
Maids  legs 

Ophe.  What  is  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Nothing. 

Ophe.  You  are  merrie,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Who  I  ? 

Ophe.  I  my  Lord.8 

Ham.  Oh  God,  your  onely  ligge-maker9 :  what 
should  a  man  do,  but  be  merrie.     For  looke  you 
how  cheerefully  my  Mother  lookes,  and  my  Father 
dyed  within's  two  Houres. 
65  Ophe.  Nay,  'tis  twice  two  moneths,  my  Lord.10 

Ham.  So  long  ?  Nay  then  let  the  Diuel  weare 
32  blacke,  for  He  haue  a  suite  of  Sables.11  Oh 
Heauens  !  dye  two  moneths  ago,  and  not  forgotten 
yet  ? 12  Then  there's  hope,  a  great  mans  Memorie, 
may  out-liue  his  life  halfe  a  yeare :  But  byrlady  ber  Lady 
he   must   builde  Churches  then  :    or  else  shall   he  shall  a 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  139 

1  'And  '  not  in  Q. 

9  Emphasis  on  there.  'There5  is  not  in  1st  Q.  Hamlet  means  it 
was  a  desecration  of  the  Capitol. 

3  He  cannot  be  familiar  with  his  mother,  so  avoids  her — will  not  sit 
by  her,  cannot,  indeed,  bear  to  be  near  her.  But  he  loves  and  hopes 
in  Ophelia  still. 

4  '  —  Did  I  not  tell  you  so  ?  ' 

5  This  speech  and  the  next  are  not  in  the  Q.,  but  are  shadowed  in 
the  1  st  Q. 

6  — consenting 

7  In  1st  Quarto,  'contrary.' 

Hamlet  hints,  probing  her  character — hoping  her  unable  to  understand. 
It  is  the  festering  soreness  of  his  feeling  concerning  his  mother,  making 
him  doubt  with  the  haunting  agony  of  a  loathed  possibility,  that  prompts, 
urges,  forces  from  him  his  ugly  speeches — nowise  to  be  justified,  only  to  be 
largely  excused  in  his  sickening  consciousness  of  his  mother's  presence. 
Such  pain  as  Hamlet's,  the  ferment  of  subverted  love  and  reverence,  may 
lightly  bear  the  blame  of  hideous  manners,  seeing  they  spring  from  no 
wantonness,  but  from  the  writhing  of  tortured  and  helpless  Purity.  Good 
manners  may  be  as  impossible  as  out  of  place  in  the  presence  of  shame- 
less evil. 

8  Ophelia  bears  with  him  for  his  awn  and  his  madness'  sake,  and  is 
less  uneasy  because  of  the  presence  of  his  mother.  To  account  satis- 
factorily for  Hamlet's  speeches  to  her,  is  not  easy.     The  freer  custom  of 

the  age,  freer  to  an  extent  hardly  credible  in  this,  will  not  satisfy  the 
lovers  of  Hamlet,  although  it  must  have  some  weight.  The  necessity 
for  talking  madly,  because  he  is  in  the  presence  of  his  uncle,  and  perhaps, 
to  that  end,  for  uttering  whatever  comes  to  him,  without  pause  for  choice, 
might  give  us  another  hair's-weight.  Also  he  may  be  supposed  confident 
that  Ophelia  would  not  understand  him,  while  his  uncle  would  naturally  set 
such  worse  than  improprieties  down  to  wildest  madness.  But  I  suspect 
that  here  as  before  (123),  Shakspere  would  show  Hamlet's  soul  full 
of  bitterest,  passionate  loathing ;  his  mother  has  compelled  him  to  think 
of  horrors  and  women  together,  so  turning  their  preciousness  into  a  dis- 
gust; and  this  feeling,  his  assumed  madness  allows  him  to  indulge  and 
partly  relieve  by  utterance.  Could  he  have  provoked  Ophelia  to  rebuke 
him  with  the  severity  he  courted,  such  rebuke  would  have  been  joy  to 
him.  Perhaps  yet  a  small  addition  of  weight  to  the  scale  of  his  excuse 
may  be  found  in  his  excitement  about  his  play,  and  the  necessity  for 
keeping  down  that  excitement.     Suggestion  is  easier  than  judgment. 

9  '  here's  for  the  jig-maker  !  he's  the  right  man  ! '  Or  perhaps  he  is 
claiming  the  part  as  his  own  :  '  I  am  your  only  jig-maker  ! ' 

10  This  needs  not  be  taken  for  the  exact  time.  The  statement 
notwithstanding  suggests  something  like  two  months  between  the  first 
and  second  acts,  for  in  the  first,  Hamlet  says  his  father  has  not  been 
dead  two  months.  24.  We  are  not  bound  to  take  it  for  more  than  a  rough 
approximation  ;  Ophelia  would  make  the  best  of  things  for  the  queen,  who 
is  very  kind  to  her.  n  the  fur  of  the  sable 

12  1st  Q.  nay  then  there's  some 

Likelyhood,  a  gentlemans  death  may  outliue  memorie, 
But  by  my  faith  &c. 


140         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

suffer  not  thinking  on,  with  the  Hoby-horssc, 
whose  Epitaph  is,  For  o,  For  o,  the  Hoby-horse 
is  forgot. 

Hoboyes  play.     The  dumbe  shew  enters.  JSSJSSSSi 

showfollou>es. 

Enter  a  King  and  Queene,  very  louingly  ;  tho  Queene  and  a  Queene, 

t  the  Queene 

embracing  him.     She  k?ieeles,  and  makes  shew  of  embracing 

°  '  J      him,  and  he 

Protestation  vnto  him.     He  takes  her  vp,  and  %£%  *%$ 
declines  his  head  vpon  her  neck.    Layes  him  downe  necke,  he  lyes 
vpon  a  Banke    of  Flowers.       She    seeing   him 
a-sleepe,  leanes  him.     Anon  comes  in  a  Fellow,  -.anon  come  in 

*  an  other  man, 

takes  off  his  Crowne,  kisses  it>  and powres  poyson  a,  pours 
in  the  Kings  eares,  and  Exits.     The  Queene  re-  %£$3 
turnes,  findes  the  King  dead,  and  makes  passion-  dead^mTkes 
ate   Action.     The   Poysoner,  with  some  two  or  some  three  or 

faure  come  in 

three  Mutes  comes  in  againe,  seeming  to  lament  "faJ"ne£*ieeme 
with  her.     The  dead  body  is  carried  away ;   The  with  her,  the 
Poysoner    Wooes  the    Queene   with    Gifts,   she 
54    seemes  loath  and  vnwilling  awhile,  but  in  the  end}  JJJJJ**™* 
accepts  his  loue}  Exeunt 2  accepts  loue. 

Ophe.  What  meanes  this,  my  Lord? 

Ham.  Marry   this   is    Miching   Malicho?   that  this  munching 

J  Mallico,\ 

meanes  Mischeefe. 

Ophe.  Belike  this  shew  imports  the  Argument 
of  the  Play  ? 

Ham.  We    shall    know    by    these    Fellowes  :.  Enter  °v 

Prologue . 

the    Players   cannot   keepe   counsell,    they'l     tell  keepe,  theyi« 

all.4 

Ophe.  Will  they  tell  vs  what  this  shew  meant  ?    wni  a  ten 
Ham.  I,  or  any  shew  that  you'l  shew  him.    Bee  you  win 

not  you  asham'd  to  shew,  hee'l  not  shame  to  tell. 

you  what  it  meanes. 

Ophe.  You  are  naught,6   you   are   naught,,  He 

marke  the  Play. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  141 


1  The  king,  not  the  queen,  is  aimed  at.    Hamlet  does  not  forget  the 
injunction  of  the  Ghost  to  spare  his  mother.    54 

The  king  should  be  represented   throughout   as   struggling   not  to 
betray  himselfc 

2  Not  in  Q. 

8  skulking   mischief:   the   latter  word   is  Spanish.     To  mich  is  to 
play  truant, 

How  tenderly  her  tender  hands  betweene 
In  yvorie  cage  she  did  the  micher  bind. 

The  Countess  of  Petnbrokis  Arcadia,  page  84. 
My  Reader  tells  me  the  word  is  still  in  use  among  printers,  with  the 
pronunciation  mike,  and  the  meaning  to  skulk  or  idle. 

4  —their  part  being  speech,  that  of  the  others  only  dumb  show. 


5  naughty :  persons  who  do  not  behave  well  are  treated  as  if  they 
were  not — are  made  nought  of— are  set  at  nought ;  hence  our  word 
naughty* 

1  Be  naught  awhile '  (As  You  Like  it,  i.  1 ) — '  take  yourself  away  ; '  'be 
nobody  ; '  '  put  yourself  in  the  corner.' 


i42         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Enter x  Prologue. 
For  vs,  and  for  our  Tragedie, 
Heere  stooping  to  your  Clemencie  : 
We  begge  your  hearing  Patientlie. 
Ham.  Is  this  a  Prologue,  or  the  Poesie 2  of  a  posie 
Ring? 

Ophe.  'Tis3  briefe  my  Lord. 
Ham.  As  Womans  loue. 

4  Enter  King  and  his  Queene.  and  Queene. 

234       King.  Full  thirtie  times 5  hath  Phcebus  Cart  gon 

round, 
Neptunes  salt  Wash,  and  Tellus  Orbed  ground  :        orbd the 
And  thirtie  dozen  Moones  with  borrowed  sheene, 
About  the  World  haue  times  twelue  thirties  beene, 
Since  loue  our  hearts,  and  Hymen  did  our  hands 
Vnite  comutuall,  in  most  sacred  Bands.6 

Bap.  So   many   iournies   may  the  Sunne    and  <?***. 

Moone 
Make  vs  againe  count  o're,  ere  loue  be  done. 
But  woe  is  me,  you  are  so  sicke  of  late, 
So  farre  from  cheere,  and  from  your  forme  state,       from  our 

/-t^i  w     «'•  i«  former  state, 

That  I  distrust  you  :  yet  though  I  distrust, 

Discomfort  you  (my  Lord)  it  nothing  must  : 

For  womens  Feare  and  Loue,  holds  quantitie,  Andwomensi 

x  hold 

In  neither  ought,  or  in  extremity  : 7  Eyther  none, 

0  J  in  neither 

Now  what  my  loue  is,  proofe  hath  made  you  know,  ™y  T^ord  is 
And  as  my  Loue  is  siz'd,  my  Feare  is  so.  cizd, 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

For  women  feare  too  much,  euen  as  they  loue, 

**  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

Where  loue  is  great,  the  litlest  doubts  are  feare, 
Where  little  feares  grow  great, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  143 

1  Enter  not  in  Q. 

2  Commonly  posy  :  a  little  sentence  engraved  inside  a  ring — perhaps 
originally  a  tiny  couplet,  therefore  poesy.     1st  Q.,  'a  poesie  for  a  ring?' 

3  Emphasis  on  i,Tz's.) 


4  Very  little  blank  verse  of  any  kind  was  written  before  Shakspere's  ; 
the  usual  form  of  dramatic  verse  was  long,  irregular,  rimed  lines  :  the  Poet 
here  uses  the  heroic  couplet,  which  gives  a  resemblance  to  the  older  plays 
by  its  rimes,  while  also  by  its  stately  and  monotonous  movement  the  play- 
play  is  differenced  from  the  play  into  which  it  is  introduced,  and  caused  to 
look  intrinsically  like  a  play  in  relation  to  the  rest  of  the  play  of  which  it 
is  part.  In  other  words,  it  stands  off  from  the  surrounding  play,  slightly 
elevated  both  by  form  and  formality.     103 


5  1st  Q.      Duke.  Full  fortie  yeares  are  past,  their  date  is  gone, 

Since  happy  time  ioyn'd  both  our  hearts  as  one  : 
And  now  the  blood  that  fill'd  my  youthfull  veines, 
Ruunes  weakely  in  their  pipes,  and  all  the  straines 
Of  musicke,  which  whilome  pleasde  mine  eare, 
Is  now  a  burthen  that  Age  cannot  beare : 
And  therefore  sweete  Nature  must  pay  his  due, 
To  heauen  must  I,  and  leaue  the  earth  with  you. 

6  Here  Hamlet  gives  the  time  his  father  and  mother  had  been  married, 
and  Shakspere  points  at  Hamlet's  age.  234.  The  Poet  takes  pains  to 
show  his  hero's  years. 


7  This  line,  whose  form  in  the  Quarto  is  very  careless,  seems  but  a 
careless  correction,  leaving  the  sense  as  well  as  the  construction  obscure : 
1  Women's  fear  and  love  keep  the  scales  level ;  in  neither  is  there  ought, 
or  in  both  there  is  fulness  ; '  or  :  '  there  is  no  moderation  in  their  fear  and 
their  love  ;  either  they  have  none  of  either,  or  they  have  excess  of  both.' 
Perhaps  he  tried  to  express  both  ideas  at  once.  But  compression  is 
always  in  danger  of  confusion. 


Ham.  That's 

wormwood" 


144         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

King.  Faith    I    must    leaue    thee    Loue,   and 
shortly  too  : 
My  operant  Powers  my  Functions  leaue  to  do  :  their  functions 

And  thou  shalt  Hue  in  this  faire  world  behinde, 
Honour'd,  belou'd,  and  haply,  one  as  kinde. 
For  Husband  shalt  thou 

Bap.  Oh  confound  the  rest :  <?««. 

Such  Loue,  must  needs  be  Treason  in  my  brest  : 
In  second  Husband,  let  me  be  accurst, 
None  wed  the  second,  but  who  kill'd  the  first.1 

Ham.  Wormwood,  Wormwood. 

Bapt.  The  instances 3  that  second  Marriage  moue, 
Are  base  respects  of  Thrift,4  but  none  of  Loue. 
A  second  time,  I  kill  my  Husband  dead, 
When  second  Husband  kisses  me  in  Bed. 

King.  I  do  beleeue  you.     Think  what  now  you 
speak  : 
But  what  we  do  determine,  oft  we  breake  : 
Purpose  is  but  the  slaue  to  Memorie,5 
Of  violent  Birth,  but  poore  validitie  : 6 
Which  now  like  Fruite  vnripe  stickes  on  the  Tree, 
But  fall  vnshaken,  when  they  mellow  bee.7 
Most  necessary 8  'tis,  that  we  forget 
To  pay  our  selues,  what  to  our  selues  is  debt : 
What  to  our  selues  in  passion  we  propose, 
The  passion  ending,  doth  the  purpose  lose. 
The  violence  of  other  Greefe  or  Ioy, 

Their  owne  ennactors  with  themselues  destroy  :         ennactures 
Where  Ioy  most  Reuels,  Greefe  doth  most  lament ; 
Greefe  ioyes,  Ioy  greeues  on  slender  accident.9  Greefe  ioy 

J  J    °  ioy  gnefes 

This  world  is  not  for  aye,  nor  'tis  not  strange 
That  euen  our   Loues  should  with  our  Fortunes 

change. 
For  'tis  a  question  left  vs  yet  to  proue, 
Whether  Loue  lead  Fortune,  or  else  Fortune  Loue. 


now  the  fruite 


eyther, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  145 


1  Is  this  to  be  supposed  in  the  original  play,  or  inserted  by  Hamlet, 
embodying  an  unuttered  and  yet  more  fearful  doubt  with  regard  to  his 
mother  ? 


2  This  speech  is  on  the  margin  in  the  Quarto,  and  the  Queene's  speech 
runs  on  without  break. 

3  the  urgencies  ;  the  motives 

4  worldly  advantage 


5  '  Purpose  holds  but  while  Memory  holds,' 

6  '  Purpose  is  born  in  haste,  but  is  of  poor  strength  to  live. 


7  Here  again  there  is  carelessness  of  construction,  as  if  the  Poet  had 
not  thought  it  worth  his  while  to  correct  this  subsidiary  portion  of  the 
drama.  I  do  not  see  how  to  lay  the  blame  on  the  printer. — '  Purpose  is 
a  mere  fruit,  which  holds  on  or  falls  only  as  it  must.  The  element  of  per- 
sistency is  not  in  it.' 

8  unavoidable— coming  of  necessity 


'Grief  turns  into  joy,  and  joy  into  grief,  on  a  slight  chance. 


i46         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

The  great  man  dovvne,  you  marke  his  fauourites  fauourit* 

flies, 
The  poore  aduane'd,  makes  Friends  of  "Enemies  : 
And  hitherto  doth  Loue  on  Fortune  tend, 
For  who  not  needs,  shall  neuer  lacke  a  Frend  : 
And  who  in  want  a  hollow  Friend  doth  try, 
Directly  seasons  him  his  Enemie.1 
But  orderly  to  end,  where  I  begun, 
Our  Willes  and  Fates  do  so  contrary  run, 
That  our  Deuices  still  are  ouerthrowne, 

.   Our  thoughts  are  ours,  their  ends  none  of  our  owne.2 

246  & 

So  thinke  thou  wilt  no  second  Husband  wed. 
But  die  thy  thoughts,  when  thy  first  Lord  is  dead. 

Bap.  Nor  Earth  to  giue  me  food,  nor  Heauen  (?*«. 
light, 
Sport  and  repose  locke  from  me  day  and  night  :3 
Each  opposite  that  blankes  the  face  of  ioy, 
Meet  what  I  would  haue  well,  and  it  destroy  : 
Both  heere,  and  hence,  pursue  me  lasting  strife,4 
If  once  a  Widdow,  euer  I  be  Wife.5  once  1  be  a  | 

be  a  wile. 

Ham.  If  she  should  breake  it  now.6 

King.  'Tis  deepely  sworn e  : 
Sweet,  leaue  me  heere  a  while, 
My  spirits  grow  dull,  and  faine  I  would  beguile 
The  tedious  day  with  sleepe. 

Qn.  Sleepe  rocke  thy  Braine,  Sleepes1 

And  neuer  come  mischance  betweene  vs  twaine. 

Exit    Exeunt, 

Ham.  Madam,  how  like  you  this  Play? 

Q11.  The  Lady  protests  to  much  me  thinkes,       doth  protest 

Ham.  Oh  but  shee'l  keepe  her  word. 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

To  desperation  turne  my  trust  and  hope,1 
And  Anchors  2  cheere  in  prison  be  my  scope 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  147 


1  All  that  is  wanted  to  make  a  real  enemy  of  an  unreal  friend  is  the 
seasoning  of  a  requested  favour. 


2  '  Our  thoughts  are  ours,  but  what  will  come  of  them   we  cannot 
tell.' 


May  Day  and  Night  lock  from  me  sport  and  repose.5 


4  'May  strife  pursue  me  in  the  world  and  out  of  it,' 

5  In  all  this,  there  is  nothing  to  reflect  on  his  mother  beyond  what 
everybody  knew. 

6  This  speech  is  in  the  margi7i  of  the  Quarto. 


Not  in  Q. 


1  May  my  trust  and  hope  turn  to  despair, 
an  anchoret's 


L   2 


148         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

King.  Haue  you  heard  the  Argument,  is  there 
no  Offence  in't  ? 1 

Ham.  No,  no,  they  do  but  iest,  poyson  in  iest, 
no  Offence  i'th'world.2 

King.  What  do  you  call  the  Play  ? 

Ham.  The  Mouse-trap  :  Marry  how  ?  Tropi- 
cally : 3  This  Play  is  the  Image  of  a  murder  done 
in  Vienna  :  Gonzago  is  the  Dukes  name,  his  wife 
Baptista  :  you  shall  see  anon  :  'tis  a  knauish  peece 
of  worke :  But  what  o'that?  Your  Maiestie,  and  of  that? 
wee  that  haue  free  soules,  it  touches  vs  not :  let  the 
gall'd  iade  winch  :  our  withers  are  vnrung.4 

Enter  Lucianus.h 

This  is  one  Lucianus  nephew  to  the  King. 

Ophe.  You  are  a  good  Chorus,  my  Lord.  are  as  good  as 

Ham.  I  could  interpret  betweene  you  and  your 
loue  :  if  I  could  see  the  Puppets  dallying.6 

Ophe.  You  are  keene  my  Lord,  you  are  keene. 

Ham.  It  would  cost  you  a  groaning,  to  take  off 
my  edge.  mine 

Ophe.  Still  better  and  worse. 

Ham.  So  you  mistake  Husbands.7  mistake  your 

Begin  Murderer.     Pox,  leaue  thy  damnable  Faces,  munherer, 

°  *  leave 

and  begin.    Come,  the  croaking  Rauen  doth  bellow 
for  Reuenge.8 

Lucian.  Thoughts  blacke,  hands  apt, 
Drugges  fit,  and  Time  agreeing  : 

Confederate  season,  else,  no  Creature  seeing  : 9  Consider 

Thou  mixture  ranke,  of  Midnight  Weeds  collected, 
With  Hecats  Ban,  thrice  blasted,  thrice  infected,       invected 
Thy  naturall  Magicke,  and  dire  propertie, 
On  wholsome  life,  vsurpe  immediately.  vsurps 

Powres  the  poyson  in  his  eares.10 

Ham.  He  povsons  him  i'th  Garden  for's  estate  ;  APoysons|for 

his 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


149 


1  — said,  perhaps,  to  Polonius.  Is  there  a  lapse  here  in  the  king's 
self-possession  ?  or  is  this  speech  only  an  outcome  of  its  completeness — 
a  pretence  of  fearing  the  play  may  glance  at  the  queen  for  marrying  him  ? 

2  '  It  is  but  jest;  don't  be  afraid  :  there  is  no  reality  in  it' — as  one 
might  say  to  a  child  seeing  a  play. 


3  Figuratively  :  from  trope.     In  the  1st  Q.  the  passage  stands  thus  : 

Ham.  Mouse-trap  :  mary  how  trapically  :  this  p-lay  is 
The  image  of  a  murder  done  in  guy  ana, 

4  Here  Hamlet  endangers  himself  to  force  the  king  to  self-betrayal. 

5  In  Q.  after  next  line. 


6  In  a  puppet-play,  if  she  and  her  love  were  the  puppets,  he  could 
supply  the  speeches. 


7  Is  this  a  misprint  for  '  so  you  must  take  husbands ' — for  better  and 
worse,  namely  ?  or  is  it  a  thrust  at  his  mother — '  So  you  mis-take  husbands, 
going  from  the  better  to  a  worse'  ?  In  1st  Q. :  '  So  you  must  take  your 
husband,  begin.' 

8  Probably  a  mocking  parody  or  burlesque  of  some  well-known 
exaggeration — such  as  not  a  few  of  Marlowe's  lines. 

9  '  none  beholding  save  the  accomplice  hour  : ' 


Not  in  Q. 


iSo         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

His  name's  Gonzago :  the  Story  is  extant  and  writ  and  written 
in  choyce   Italian.     You   shall  see  anon  how  the  in  very  choice 
Murtherer  gets  the  loue  of  Gonzago 's  wife. 

Ophe.  The  King  rises.1 

Ham.  What,  frighted  with  false  fire.2 

Qu.  How  fares  my  Lord  ? 

Pol.  Giue  o're  the  Play. 

King.  Giue  me  some  Light.     Away.3 

All.  Lights,  Lights,  Lights.  Exeunt  p0i.  \  Exeunt 

all  but  Ham. 
<5r»  Horatio. 

Manet  Hamlet  &  Horatio. 

Ham}  Why  let  the  strucken  Deere  go  weepe, 
The  Hart  vngalled  play  : 

For  some  must  watch,  while  some  must  sleepe  ; 
So  runnes  the  world  away. 

Would  not  this 5  Sir,  and  a  Forrest  of  Feathers,  if 
the  rest  of  my  Fortunes  turne  Turke  with  me  ;  with 
two  Prouinciall  Roses 6  on  my  rac'd  7  Shooes,  get  me  *£n  PESa" 
a  Fellowship 8  in  a  crie  9  of  Players  sir.  Players? 

Hor.  Halfe  a  share. 

Ham.  A  whole  one  I,10 
11  For  thou  dost  know  :  Oh  Damon  deere, 
This  Realme  dismantled  was  "of  loue  himselfe, 
And  now  reignes  heere. 
A  verie  verie  Paiocke.12 

Hora.  You  might  haue  Rim'd.13 

Ham.  Oh   good  Horatio,  He  take  the  Ghosts 
word  for  a  thousand  pound.     Did'st  perceiue  ? 

Hora.  Verie  well  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Vpon  the  talke  of  the  poysoning  ? 

Hora.  I  did  verie  well  note  him. 

Enter  Rosincrance  and  Guildensteme}* 

Ham.  Oh,  ha  ?  Come  some  Musick.15  Come  the  Ah  ha, 
Recorders : 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  151 


1  — in  ill  suppressed  agitation. 

2  This  speech  is  Jiot  in  the  Quarto. —  Is  the  'false  fire'  what  we  now 
call  stage-fire  ? — '  What  !  frighted  at  a  mere  play  ? ' 


8  The  stage — the  stage-stage,  that  is — alone  is  lighted. 
Does  the  king  stagger  out  blindly,  madly,  shaking  them  from  him? 
I  think  not — but  as  if  he  were  taken  suddenly  ill. 

4  — singing — that  he  may  hide  his  agitation,  restrain  himself,  and  be 
regarded  as  careless-mad,  until  all  are  safely  gone. 

5  — his  success  with  the  play, 

6  '  Roses  of  Provins,'  we  are  told — probably  artificial. 

7  The  meaning  is  very  doubtful.  But  for  the  raz'd  of  the  Quarto,  I 
should  suggest  ladd.     Could  it  mean  cut  low  ? 

8  a  share,  as  immediately  below. 

9  A  cry  of  hounds  is  a  pack.  So  in  King  Lear,  act  v.  sc.  3,  '  packs 
and  sects  of  great  ones.' 

10  /  for  ay — that  is,  yes  / — He  insists  on  a  whole  share. 

11  Again  he  takes  refuge  in  singing. 

12  The  lines  are  properly  measured  in  the  Quarto  : 

For  thou  doost  know  oh  Damon  deere 

This  Realme  dismantled  was 

Of  loue  himselfe,  and  now  raignes  heere 

A  very  very  paioek. 
By  Jove,  he  of  course  intends  his  father.     170 

What  'Paiocke'  means,  whether  pagaji,  or  peacock,  or  bajocco,  matters 
nothing,  since  it  is  intended  for  nonsense. 

13  To  rime  with  was,  Horatio  naturally  expected  ass  to  follow  as  the 
end  of  the  last  line  :  in  the  wanton  humour  of  his  excitement,  Hamlet 
disappointed  him. 

24  In  Q.  after  next  speech. 

15  He  hears  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne  coming,  and  changes  his 
behaviour — calling  for  music  to  end  the  play  with.  Either  he  wants, 
under  its  cover,  to  finish  his  talk  with  Horatio  in  what  is-  for  the  moment 
the  safest  place,  or  he  would  mask  himself  before  his  two  false  friends. 
Since  the  departure  of  the  king — I  would  suggest — he  has  borne  himself 
with  evident  apprehension,  every  now  and  then  glancing  about  him,  as 
fearful  of  what  may  follow  his  uncle's  recognition  of  the  intent  of  the  play. 
Three  times  he  has  burst  out  singing. 

Or  might  not  his  whole  carriage,  with  the  call  for  music,  be  the  out- 
come of  a  grimly  merry  satisfaction  at  the  success  of  his  scheme  ? 


1 52         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

For  if  the  King  like  not  the  Comedie, 
Why  then  belike  he  likes  it  not  perdie.1 
Come  some  Musicke. 

Guild.  Good  my  Lord,  vouchsafe  me  a  word 
with  you. 

Ham.  Sir,  a  whole  History. 

Guild.  The  King,  sir. 

Ham.  I  sir,  what  of  him  ? 

Guild.  Is  in  his  retyrement,  maruellous  dis- 
temper'd. 

Ham .  With  drinke  Sir  ? 

Guild.  No  my  Lord,  rather  with  choller.2  Lord,  with 

Ham.  Your  wisedome  should  shew  it  selfe  more 
richer,  to  signifie  this  to  his  Doctor :  for  for  me  to  the  Doctor, 
put  him  to  his  Purgation,  would  perhaps  plundge 
him  into  farre  more  Choller.2  into  more 

Guild.  Good  my  Lord  put  your  discourse  into 
some  frame,3  and  start  not  so   wildely  from    my  stare 
affayre. 

Ham.  I  am  tame  Sir,  pronounce: 

Guild.  The  Queene  your  Mother,  in  most  great 
affliction  of  spirit,  hath  sent  me  to  you. 

Ham.  You  are  welcome.4 

Guild.  Nay,  good  my  Lord,  this  courtesie  is 
not  of  the  right  breed.  If  it  shall  please  you  to 
make  me  a  wholsome  answer,  I  will  doe  your 
Mothers  command'ment :  if  not,  your  pardon,  and 
my  returne  shall  bee  the  end  of  my  Businesse.  of  busies. 

Ham.  Sir,  I  cannot. 

Guild.  What,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Make  you  a  wholsome  answere :  my  wits 
diseas'd.    But  sir,  such  answers  as  I  can  make,  you  answere 
shal    command  :  or  rather  you  say,  my   Mother :  rather  as  you 
therfore  no  more  but  to  the  matter.     My  Mother 
you  say. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  153 

1  These  two  lines  he  may  be  supposed  to  sing. 


Choler  means  bile,  and  thence  anger.  Hamlet  in  his  answer  plays 
on  the  two  meanings  : — 'to  give  him  the  kind  of  medicine  I  think  fit  for 
him,  would  perhaps  much  increase  his  displeasure.' 


some  logical  consistency 


-with  an  exaggeration  of  courtesy 


154         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Rosin.  Then    thus   she  sayes  :    your   behauior 
hath  stroke  her  into  amazement,  and  admiration.1 

Ham.  Oh  wonderfull  Sonne,  that  can  so  aston-  «tomdi 
ish  a  Mother.    But  is  there  no  sequell  at  the  heelcs 
of  this  Mothers  admiration  ?  admiration, 

impart. 

Rosin.  She  desires  to  speake  with  you  in  her 
Closset,  ere  you  go  to  bed. 

Ham.  We  shall  obey,  were  she  ten  times  our 
Mother.     Haue  you  any  further  Trade  with  vs  ? 

Rosin.  My  Lord,  you  once  did  loue  me. 

Ham.  So    I    do    still,   by   these    pickers    and  Anddoestiii 
stealers.2 

Rosin.  Good  my  Lord,  what  is  your  cause  of 
distemper  ?     You  do  freely  barre  the  doore  of  your  theed^rer™on 
owne  Libertie,  if  you   deny  your  greefes  to  your  your 
Friend. 

Ham.  Sir  I  lacke  Aduancement, 

Rosin.  How  can  that  be,  when  you  haue  the 

136  voyce  of  the  King  himselfe,  for  your  Succession  in 

Denmarke  ? 
3 
Ham.  I,   but    while   the    grasse    growes,4   the  isir, 

Prouerbe  is  something  musty. 

Enter  one  with  a  Recorder? 

O  the  Recorder.     Let   me  see,  to  withdraw  with  ,s  the  Record- 
ers, let  mee 

you,6  why  do  you  go  about  to  recouer  the  winde  of  see  one> t0 
mee,7  as  if  you  would  driue  me  into  a  toyle  ? 8 

Guild.  O  my  Lord,  if  my  Dutie  be  too  bold,- 
my  loue  is  too  vnmannerly.9 

Ham.  I  do  not  well  vnderstand  that,10   Will  you 
play  vpon  this  Pipe  ? 

Guild.  My  Lord,  I  cannot. 

Ham.  I  pray  you. 

Guild.  Beleeue  me,  I  cannot. 

Ham.  I  do  beseech  you. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  155 

wonder,  astonishment. 


2  He  swears  an  oath  that  will  not   hold,  being  by  the  hand  of  a 
thief. 

In  the  Catechism  :  '  Keep  my  hands  from  picking  and  stealing.' 


3  Here  in  Quarto,  E7iter  the  Players  with  Recorders. 

4  ' .  .  .  the  colt  starves.' 


5  Not  in  Q.  The  stage-direction  of  the  Folio  seems  doubtful.  Hamlet 
has  called  for  the  orchestra  :  we  may  either  suppose  one  to  precede  the 
others,  or  that  the  rest  are  already  scattered  ;  but  the  Quarto  direction 
and  reading  seem  better. 

6  — taking  Guildensterne  aside 

7  '  to  get  to  windward  of  me,' 

8  '  Why  do  you  seek  to  get  the  advantage  of  me,  as  if  you  would 
drive  me  to  betray  myself?' — Hunters,  by  sending  on  the  wind  their  scent 
to  the  game,  drive  it  into  their  toils. 

9  Guildensterne  tries  euphuism,  but  hardly  succeeds.  He  intends  to 
plead  that  any  fault  in  his  approach  must  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  his 
love.     Duty  here  means  homage — so  used  still  by  the  common  people. 

10  — said  with  a  smile  of  gentle  contempt. 


156         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Guild.  I  know  no  touch  of  it,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  'Tis  as   easie   as   lying :    gouerne  these  it  is 
Ventiges   with   your    finger   and  thumbe,   giue  it  Jjjf^»  p^ e 
breath  with  your  mouth,  and  it  will  discourse  most  most  eloquent 
excellent    Musicke.      Looke    you,   these   are   the 
stoppes. 

Guild.  But  these  cannot  I  command  to  any 
vtterance  of  hermony,  I  haue  not  the  skill. 

Ham.  Why  looke  you  now,  how  vnworthy  a 
thing  you  make  of  me  :  you  would  play  vpon  mee  ; 
you  would  seeme  to  know  my  stops :  you  would 
pluck  out  the  heart  of  my  Mysterie  ;  you  would 
sound  mee  from  my  lowest  Note,  to  the  top  of  my  note  to  my 

compasse 

Compasse :  and  there  is  much  Musicke,  excellent 
Voice,  in  this  little  Organe,  yet  cannot  you  make  ltJ*Pe*K 

'  °  *V  y  s  hloud  do  you 

it.     Why  do  you  thinke,  that  I  am  easier  to  bee  think  l 
plaid  on,  then  a  Pipe  ?     Call  me  what  Instrument 
_     you  will,  though  you  can  fret  *  me,  you   cannot  you  fret  me 

I  c>4  not, 

play  vpon  me.     God  blesse  you  Sir.2 

Enter  Polonius. 

Polon.  My  Lord ;  the  Queene  would  speak 
with  you,  and  presently. 

Ham.  Do  you  see  that  Clowd  ?  that's  almost  in  yonder  ciowd 
shape  like  a  Camell.  shape  of  a 

Polon.  By'th'Misse,     and    it's    like    a    Camell   masse  and  tis, 
indeed. 

Ham.  Me  thinkes  it  is  like  a  Weazell. 
Polon.  It  is  back'd  like  a  Weazell. 
Ham.  Or  like  a  Whale  ? 3 
Polon.  Verie  like  a  Whale.4 

Ham.  Then  will  I  come  to  my  Mother,  by  and  i  win 
by: 
60,  136,   They  foole  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent.5 
17        I  will  come  by  and  by. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  157 


1  — with  allusion  to  the  frets  or  stop-marks  of  a  stringed  instrument. 

2  — to  Polonius. 


3  There  is  nothing  insanely  arbitrary  in  these  suggestions  of  likeness  ; 
a  cloud  might  very  well  be  like  every  one  of  the  three  ;  the  camel  has  a 
hump,  the  weasel  humps  himself,  and  the  whale  is  a  hump. 

4  He  humours  him  in  everything,  as  he  would  a  madman. 

5  Hamlet's  cleverness  in  simulating  madness  is  dwelt  upon  in  the  old 
story.     See  '  Hystorie  of  Hamblet,  prince  of  Dcnmarke? 


158         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Polon}   I  will  say  so.  Exit} 

Ham}  By  and  by,  is  easily    said.     Leaue  me 

Friends : 
Tis  now  the  verie  witching  time  of  night, 
When  Churchyards  yawne,  and  Hell  it  selfe  breaths  brakes' 

out 
Contagion  to  this  world.3     Now  could  I  drink  hot 

blood, 
And  do  such  bitter  businesse  as  the  day  JJ ^Jg|J 

Would    quake   to   looke    on.4     Soft    now,    to    my  day 

Mother : 
Oh  Heart,  loose  not  thy  Nature  ; b  let  not  euer 
The  Soule  of  Nero,6  enter  this  firme  bosome : 
Let  me  be  cruell,  not  vnnaturall. 
i72   I  will  speake  Daggers7  to  her,  but  vse  none  :  dagger 

My  Tongue  and  Soule  in  this  be  Hypocrites.8 
How  in  my  words  someuer  she  be  shent,9 
To  giue  them  Seales,10  neuer  my  Soule  consent.4       Exit. 

Enter  King,  Rosincrance,  and  Guildensterne. 

King.  I  like  him  not,  nor  stands  it  safe  with  vs, 
To  let  his  madnesse  range.11     Therefore  prepare 
you, 
167   I  your  Commission  will  forthwith  dispatch,12 
:8,  180  And  he  to  England  shall  along  with  you  : 
The  termes  of  our  estate,  may  not  endure  ,3 
Hazard  so  dangerous  as  doth  hourely  grow  soger's  as 

Out  of  his  Lunacies.  his  browes. 

Guild.  We  will  our  selues  prouide  : 
Most  holie  and  Religious  feare  it  is  14 
To  keepe  those  many  many  bodies  safe 
That  Hue  and  feede  vpon  your  Maiestie.15 

Rosin.  The  single 
And  peculiar  16  life  is  bound 
With  all  the  strength  and  Armour  of  the  minde, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


r59 


1  The  Quarto,  not  having  Polon.,  Exit,  or  Ham.,  and  arranging  differ- 
ently, reads  thus  :— 

They  foole  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent,  I  will  come  by  and  by, 

Leaue  me  friends. 

I  will,  say  so.     By  and  by  is  easily  said, 

Tis  now  the  very  &c. 

2  belches 

3  — thinking  of  what  the  Ghost  had  told  him,  perhaps  :  it  was  the  time 
when  awful  secrets  wander  about  the  world.  Compare  Macbeth,  act  ii. 
sc.  i  ;  also  act  iii.  sc.  2. 

4  The  assurance  of  his  uncle's  guilt,  gained  through  the  effect  of  the 
play  upon  him,  and  the  corroboration  of  his  mother's  guilt  by  this  partial 
confirmation  of  the  Ghost's  assertion,  have  once  more  stirred  in  Hamlet 
the  fierceness  of  vengeance.  But  here  afresh  comes  out  the  balanced 
nature  of  the  man — say  rather,  the  supremacy  in  him  of  reason  and  will. 
His  dear  soul,  having  once  become  mistress  of  his  choice,  remains  mistress 
for  ever.  He  could  drink  hot  blood,  he  could  do  bitter  business,  but  he 
will  carry  himself  as  a  son,  and  the  son  of  his  father,  ought  to  carry  him- 
self towards  a  guilty  mother — mother  although  guilty. 

5  Thus  he  girds  himself  for  the  harrowing  interview.  Aware  of  the 
danger  he  is  in  of  forgetting  his  duty  to  his  mother,  he  strengthens  himself 
in  filial  righteousness,  dreading  to  what  word  or  deed  a  burst  of  indigna- 
tion might  drive  him.  One  of  his  troubles  now  is  the  way  he  feels  towards 
his  mother. 

6  — who  killed  his  mother 

7  His  words  should  be  as  daggers. 

8  Pretenders 

9  7'eproached  or  rebuked — though  oftener  scolded 

10  '  to  seal  them  with  actions  ' — Actions  are  the  seals  to  words,  and 
make  them  irrevocable. 

11  walk  at  liberty 

12  get  ready 

13  He  had,  it  would  appear,  taken  them  into  his  confidence  in  the 
business  ;  they  knew  what  was  to  be  in  their  commission,  and  were 
thorough  traitors  to  Hamlet. 


M  — holy  and  religious  precaution  for  the  sake  of  the  many  depending 
on  him 

15  Is  there  not  unconscious  irony  of  their  own  parasitism  here  intended? 
10  private  individual 


160         THE    TRAGEDTE    OF  HAMLET, 

To  keepe  it  selfe  from  noyance : '  but  much  more, 

That  Spirit,  vpon  whose  spirit  depends  and  rests       whose  wcaic 

depends 

The  Hues  of  many,  the  cease  of  Maiestie  cesse 

Dies  not  alone  ; 2  but  like  a  Gulfe  doth  draw 

What's  neere  it,  with  it.     It  is  a  massie  wheele  with  it, or  ui 

Fixt  on  the  Somnet  of  the  highest  Mount, 

To  whose  huge  Spoakes,  ten  thousand  lesser  things  hough  spokes 

Are  mortiz'd  and  adioyn'd  :  which  when  it  falles, 

Each  small  annexment,  pettie  consequence 

Attends  the  boystrous  Ruine.     Neuer  alone  raine, 

Did  the  King  sighe,  but  with  a  generall  grone.  but  a* 

King*  Arme  you,5  I  pray  you  to  this  speedie     • 
Voyage ;  viage, 

For  we  will  Fetters  put  vpon  this  feare,6  put  about  this 

Which  now  goes  too  free-footed. 

Both.  We  will  haste  vs.  Exeunt  Gent 

Enter  Polonius. 

Pol.  My    Lord,    he's    going    to    his    Mothers 
Closset : 
Behinde  the  Arras  He  conuey  my  selfe 
To  heare  the  Processe.     He  warrant  shee'l  tax  him 

home, 
And  as  you  said,  and  wisely  was  it  said, 
'Tis  meete  that  some  more  audience  then  a  Mother, 
Since  Nature  makes  them  partiall,  should  o're-heare 
The  speech  of  vantage.7     Fare  you  well  my  Liege, 
He  call  vpon  you  ere  you  go  to  bed, 
And  tell  you  what  I  know.  Exit. 

King.  Thankes  deere  my  Lord. 
Oh  my  offence  is  ranke,  it  smels  to  heauen, 
It  hath  the  primall  eldest  curse  vpon't, 
A  Brothers  murther.8     Pray  can  I  not, 
Though  inclination  be  as  sharpe  as  will : 
My  stronger  guilt,9  defeats  my  strong  intent, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  16 1 

1  The  philosophy  of  which  self  is  the  centre.     The  speeches  of  both 
justify  the  king  in  proceeding  to  extremes  against  Hamlet. 


~  The  same  as  to  say  :  '  The  passing,  ceasing,  or  ending  of  majesty 
dies  not — is  not  finished  or  accomplished,  without  that  of  others  ; '  '  the 
dying  ends  or  ceases  not,'  &c. 


3  The  but  of  the  Quarto  is  better,  only  the  line  halts.     It  is  the  pre- 
position, meaning  without. 

4  heedless  of  their  flattery.     It  is  hardly  applicable  enough  to  interest 
him. 

6  '  Provide  yourselves ' 

6  fear  active  ;  cause  of  fear;  thing  to  be  afraid  of;  the  noun  of  the 
verb  fear,  to  frighten  : 

Or  in  the  night,  imagining  some  fear, 
How  easy  is  a  bush  supposed  a  bear  ! 

A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  act  v.  sc.  i. 


7  Schmidt  (Sk.  /Lex.)  says  of  vantage  means  to  boot.  I  do  not  think 
he  is  right.  Perhaps  Polonius  means  'from  a  position  of  advantage.' 
Or  perhaps  '  The  speech  of  vantage'  is  to  be  understood  as  implying  that 
Hamlet,  finding  himself  in  a  position  of  vantage,  that  is,  alone  with  his 
mother,  will  probably  utter  himself  with  little  restraint. 

8  This  is  the  first  proof  positive  of  his  guilt  accorded  even  to  the 
spectator  of  the  play:  here  Claudius  confesses  not  merely  guilt  (118), 
but  the  very  deed.  Thoughtless  critics  are  so  ready  to  judge  another 
as  if  he  knew  all  they  know,  that  it  is  desirable  here  to  remind  the 
student  that  only  he,  not  Hamlet,  hears  this  soliloquy.  The  falseness 
of  half  the  judgments  in  the  world  comes  from  our  not  taking  care  and 
pains  first  to  know  accurately  the  actions,  and  then  to  understand  the 
mental  and  moral  condition,  of  those  we  judge. 

9  — his  present  guilty  indulgence — stronger  than  his  strong  intent  to 
pray. 

M 


i6j       the  tragedie  of  hamlet, 

And  like  a  man  to  double  businesse  bound,1 
I  stand  in  pause  where  I  shall  first  begin, 
And  both 2  neglect ;  what  if  this  cursed  hand 
Were  thicker  then  it  selfe  with  Brothers  blood, 
Is  there  not  Raine  enough  in  the  sweet  Heauens 
To    wash    it    white    as    Snow  ?     Whereto    semes 

mercy, 
But  to  confront  the  visage  of  Offence? 
And  what's  in  Prayer,  but  this  two-fold  force, 
To  be  fore-stalled  ere  we  come  to  fall, 
Or  pardon'd  being  downe?     Then  lie  looke  vp,         pardon 
My  fault  Is  past.     But  oh,  what  forme  of  Prayer 
Can    serue    my    turne?     Forgiue    me    my    foule 

Murther : 
That  cannot  be,  since  I  am  still  possest 
Of  those  effects  for  which  I  did  the  Murther.3 
My  Crowne,  mine  owne  Ambition,  and  my  Queene : 
May  one  be  pardon'd,  and  retaine  th'offence  ? 
In  the  corrupted  currants  of  this  world, 
Offences  gilded  hand  may  shoue  by  Iustice  showe 

And  oft  'tis  seene,  the  wicked  prize  it  selfe 
Buyes  out  the  Law  ;  but  'tis  not  so  aboue, 
There  is  no  shuffling,  there  the  Action  lyes 
In  his  true  Nature,  and  we  our  selues  compell'd 
Euen  to  the  teeth  and  forehead  of  our  faults, 
To  giuc  in  euidence.     What  then  ?     What  rests  ? 
Try  what  Repentance  can.     What  can  it  not  ? 
Yet  what  can  it,  when  one  cannot  repent  ? 4 
Oh  wretched  state  !  Oh  bosome,  blacke  as  death  ! 
Oh  limed  5  soule,  that  strugling  to  be  free, 
Art  more  ingag'd  6  :  Helpe  Angels,  make  assay  : 7 
Bow    stubborne   knees,  and  heart  with  strings  of 

Steele, 
Be  soft  as  sinewes  of  the  new-borne  Babe, 
All  may  be  well. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  163 

1  Referring  to  his  double  guilt — the  one  crime  past,  the  other  in 
continuance. 

Here  is  the  corresponding  passage  in  the  \st  Q.,  with  the  adultery 
plainly  confessed  : — 

Enter  the  King. 

King.  O  that  this  wet  that  falles  vpon  my  face 
Would  wash  the  crime  cleere  from  my  conscience  ! 
When  I  looke  vp  to  heauen,  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  : 

0  these  are  sinnes  that  are  vnpardonable  : 
Why  say  thy  sinnes  were  blacker  then  is  ieat, 

Yet  may  contrition  make  them  as  white  as  snowe  : 

1  but  still  to  perseuer  in  a  sinne, 

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. 
"  both  crimes 

3  He  could  repent  of  and  pray  forgiveness  for  the  murder,  if  he  could 
repent  of  the  adultery  and  incest,  and  give  up  the  queen.  It  is  not  the 
sins  they  have  done,  but  the  sins  they  will  not  leave,  that  damn  men. 
*  This  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men 
loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil.'  The 
murder  deeply  troubled  him  ;  the  adultery  not  so  much  ;  the  incest  and 
usurpation  mainly  as  interfering  with  the  forgiveness  of  the  murder. 


4  Even  hatred  of  crime  committed  is  not  repentance  :  repentance  is 
the  turning  away  from  wrong  doing  :  '  Cease  to  do  evil ;  learn  to  do  well.' 

5  —caught  and  held  by  crime,  as  a  bird  by  bird-lime 

0  entangled 

7  said  to  his  knees.     Point  thus  : — '  Helpe  Angels  !     Make  assay — 
bow,  stubborne  knees  ! ' 


54,  262 


1 64         THE    TRACE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Enter  Hamlet. 
Hani}  Now  might  I  do  it  pat,  now  he-  is  praying,  doe  it,  but  now 

a  is  a  praying, 

And  now  He  doo't,  and  so  he  goes  to  Heauen,  so  a  goes 

And  so  am  I  reueng'd  :  that  would  be  scann'd,  reuendge, 
A  Villaine  killes  my  Father,  and  for  that 

I  his  foule  Sonne,  do  this  same  Villaine  send  soiesonne 

To  heauen.     Oh  this  is  hyre  and  Sallery,  not  Re-  To  heauen. 

J  -  Why,  this  is 

UenP*e  base  and  silly, 

&    '  not 

He  tooke  my  Father  grossely,  full  of  bread,  4tooke 

With  all  his  Crimes  broad  blowne,  as  fresh  as  May,  as  flush  a* 
And    how  his    Audit   stands,  wfyo   knowes,   saue 

Heauen  : 2- 
But  in  our  circumstance  and  course  of  thought 
'Tis  heauie  with  him  :  and  am  I  then  reueng'd, 
To  take  him  in  the  purging  of  his  Soule, 
When  he  is  fit  and  season'd  for  his  passage  ?    No. 
Vp  Sword,  and  know  thou  a  more  horrid  hent 3 
V/hen  he  is  drunke  asleepe  :  or  in  his  Rage, 
Or  in  th'incestuous  pleasure  of  his  bed, 
At  gaming,  swearing,  or  about  some  acte  At  game  a 

swearing, 

That  ha's  no  rellish  of  Saluation  in't, 

Then    trip   him,4    that    his    heeles    may    kicke    at 

Heauen, 
And  that  his  Soule  may  be  as  damn'd  and  blacke 
As  Hell,  whereto  it  goes.5     My  Mother  stayes,6 
This  Physicke  but  prolongs  thy  sickly  dayes.7 

Exit. 
King.  My  words  flye  vp,  my  thoughts  remain 
below, 
Words  without  thoughts,  neuer  to  Heauen  go.8 

Exit. 
Enter  Queene  and  Polonius.  Enter  Ger- 

trard  and 

Pol.  He  will  come  straight :  a  win 

Looke  you  lay  home  to  him 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  165 

1  In  the  1st  Q.  this  speech  commences  with,  '  I  so,  come  forth  and 
worke  thy  last,'  evidently  addressed  to  his  sword  ;  afterwards,  having 
changed  his  purpose,  he  says,  '  no,  get  thee  vp  agen.' 

2  This  indicates  doubt  of  the  Ghost  still.  He  is  unwilling  to  believe 
in  him. 

3  grasp.  This  is  the  only  instance  I  know  of  hent  as  a  noun.  The 
verb  to  hent,  to  lay  hold  of  ,  is  not  so  rare.  '  Wait  till  thou  be  aware  of  a 
grasp  with  a  more  horrid  purpose  in  it.-' 

4  — still  addressed  to  his  sword 

5  Are  we  to  take  Hamlet's  own  presentment  of  his  reasons  as  ex- 
haustive ?  Doubtless  to  kill  him  at  his  prayers,  whereupon,  after  the 
notions  of  the  time,  he  would  go  to  heaven,  would  be  anything  but  justice 
— the  murdered  man  in  hell — the  murderer  in  heaven  !  But  it  is  easy 
to  suppose  Hamlet  finding  it  impossible  to  slay  a  man  on  his  knees — 
and  that  from  behind  :  thus  in  the  unseen  Presence,  he  was  in  sanctuary, 
and  the  avenger  might  well  seek  reason  or  excuse  for  not  then,  not  there 
executing  the  decree. 

c  '  waits  for  me ' 

8  1st  Q.        King  My  wordes  fly  vp,  my  sinnes  remaine  below. 
No  King  on  earth  is  safe,  if  Gods  his  foe.      exit  Ki?ig. 
So  he  goes  to  make  himself  safe  by  more  crime  !     His  repentance  is 
mainly  fear. 

7  He  seems  now  to  have  made  up  his  mind,  and  to  await  only  fit 
time  and  opportunity ;  but  he  is  yet  to  receive  confirmation  strong  as 
holy  writ. 

This  is  the  first  chance  Hamlet  has  had — within  the  play— of  killing 
the  king,  and  any  imputation  of  faulty  irresolution  therein  is  simply  silly. 
It  shows  the  soundness  of  Hamlet's  reason,  and  the  steadiness  of  his 
will,  that  he  refuses  to  be  carried  away  by  passion,  or  the  temptation  of 
opportunity.  The  sight  of  the  man  on  his  knees  might  well  start  fresh 
doubt  of  his  guilt,  or  even  wake  the  thought  of  sparing  a  repentant 
sinner.  He  knows  also  that  in  taking  vengeance  on  her  husband  he 
could  not  avoid  compromising  his  mother.  Besides,  a  man  like  Hamlet 
could  not  fail  to  perceive  how  the  killing  of  his  uncle,  and  in  such  an 
attitude,  would  look  to  others. 

It  may  be  judged,  however,  that  the  reason  he  gives  to  himself  for  not 
slaying  the  king,  was  only  an  excuse,  that  his  soul  revolted  from  the  idea 
of  assassination,  and  was  calmed  in  a  measure  by  the  doubt  whether  a 
man  could  thus  pray — in  supposed  privacy,  we  must  remember — and  be 
a  murderer.  Not  even  yet  had  he  proof  positive,  absolute,  conclusive  : 
the  king  might  well  take  offence  at  the  play,  even  were  he  innocent  ; 
and  in  any  case  Hamlet  would  desire  presentable  proof:  he  had  posit- 
ively none  to  show  the  people  in  justification  of  vengeance. 

As  in  excitement  a  man's  moods  may  be  opalescent  in  their  changes, 
and  as  the  most  contrary  feelings  may  coexist  in  varying  degrees,  all  might 
be  in  a  mind,  which  I  have  suggested  as  present  in  that  of  Hamlet. 

To  have  been  capable  of  the  kind  of  action  most  of  his  critics  would 
demand  of  a  man,  Hamlet  must  have  been  the  weakling  they  imagine 
him.     When  at  length,  after  a  righteous  delay,  partly  willed,  partly  in- 


Enter} 'I am  let. 
Ger.   He  wait 


1 66         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Tell  him  his  prankcs  hauc  been  too  broad  to  beare 

with, 
And  that  your   Grace  hath    scree'nd,  and  stoode 

betweene 
Much  heate,  and  him.     He  silence  me  e'ene  heere  :  enenheer* 
Pray  you  be  round  l  with  him.'2 

Ham.  within.     Mother,  mother,  mother.3 
Qu.  He  warrant  you,  feare  me  not. 
Withdraw,  I  heare  him  comming. 

Enter  Hamlet* 

Ham:"  Now  Mother,  what's  the  matter  ? 

Qu.  Hamlet,     thou     hast    thy    Father    much  Ger. 

offended. 
Ham.  Mother,    you    haue    my    Father    much 

offended. 
Qu.  Come,  come,  you  answer  with  an  idle  tongue.  Ger. 
Ham.  Go,  go,  you  question  with  an  idle  tongue.  wlth  a  wicked 
Qu.  Why  how  now  Hamlet  ?  6  Ger. 

Ham.  Whats  the  matter  now  ? 
Qu.  Haue  you  forgot  me  ? 7  Ger. 

Ham.  No  by  the  Rood,  not  so  : 
You  are  the  Queene,  your  Husbands  Brothers  wife, 
But  would  you  were  not  so.    You  are  my  Mother.8  And  would  it 

"  were 

Qu.  Nay,  then   He  set  those  to  you  that  can  Ger. 
speake.9 

Ham.  Come,  come,  and  sit   you   downe,    you 
shall  not  boudge : 

You  go  not  till  I  set  you  vp  a  glasse, 
Where  you  may  see  the  inmost  part  of  you  ?  the  most  part 

Qu.  What  wilt  thou  do  ?  thou  wilt  not  murther  Ger. 
me?10     Helpe,  helpe,  hoa.  Heipehow. 

Pol.  What  hoa,  helpe,  helpe,  helpe.  what  how 

helpe. 

Ham.  How  now,  a  Rat?  dead  for  a  Ducate, 
dead.11 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  167 

evitable,  he  holds  documents  in  the  king's  handwriting  as  proofs  of  his 
treachery— proofs  which  can  be  shown — giving  him  both  right  and  power 
over  the  life  of  the  traitor,  then,  and  only  then,  is  he  in  cool  blood  absol- 
utely satisfied  as  to  his  duty — which  conviction,  working  with  opportunity, 
and  that  opportunity  plainly  the  last,  brings  the  end  ;  the  righteous  deed 
is  done,  and  done  righteously,  the  doer  blameless  in  the  doing  of  it.  The 
Poet  is  not  careful  of  what  is  called  poetic  justice  in  his  play,  though 
therein  is  no  failure  ;  what  he  is  careful  of  is  personal  Tightness  in  the 
hero  of  it. 

1   The  Quarto  has  not '  with  him.' 

~  He  goes  behind  the  arras. 

3  The  Quarto  has  not  this  speech. 


4  Not  in  Quarto. 

5  \st  Q.         Ham.  Mother,  mother,  O  are  you  here  ? 

How  i'st  with  you  mother  ? 
Queene  How  i'st  with  you  ? 
Ham,  I'le  tell  you,  but  first  weele  make  all  safe. 
Here,  evidently,  he  bolts  the  doors. 


1st  Q.         Queene  How  now  boy? 

Ham.  How  now  mother  !  come  here,  sit  downe,  for  you 
shall  heare  me  speake. 


-'  that  you  speak  to  me  in  such  fashion 


?' 


8  Point  thus :  '  so  :  you  ' — '  would  you  were  not  so,  for  you  are  my 
mother.' — with  emphasis  on  '  my.'     The  whole  is  spoken  sadly. 

9  — '  speak  so  that  you  must  mind  them.' 

10  The  apprehension  comes  from  the  combined  action  of  her  con- 
science and  the  notion  of  his  madness. 

11  There  is  no  precipitancy  here— only  instant  resolve  and  execu- 
tion. It  is  another  outcome  and  embodiment  of  Hamlet's  rare  faculty 
for  action,  showing  his  delay  the  more  admirable.  There  is  here  neither 
time  nor  call  for  delay.  Whoever  the  man  behind  the  arras  might  be,  he 
had,  by  spying  upon  him  in  the  privacy  of  his  mother's  room,  forfeited  to 
Hamlet  his  right  to  live  ;  he  had  heard  what  he  had  said  to  his  mother, 
and  his  death  was  necessary ;  for,  if  he  left  the  room,  Hamlet's  last 
chance  of  fulfilling  his  vow  to  the  Ghost  was  gone  :  if  the  play  had  not 
sealed,  what  he  had  now  spoken  must  seal  his  doom.  But  the  decree  had 
in  fact  already  gone  forth  against  his  life.     158 


1 68         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Pol.  Oh  I  am  slaine.  ■  Killes  Polonius} 

Qu.  Oh  me,  what  hast  thou  done  ?  Ger. 

Ham.  Nay  I  know  not,  is  it  the  King?3 

Qu.  Oh  what  a  rash,  and  bloody  deed  is  this  ?     Ger. 

Ham.  A   bloody   deed,    almost   as   bad    good 
Mother, 
56  As  kill  a  King,4  and  marrie  with  his  Brother. 

Qu.  As  kill  a  King  ?  Ger. 

Ham.   I  Lady,  'twas  my  word.5  it  was 

Thou  wretched,  rash,  intruding  foole  farewell, 
I  tooke  thee  for  thy  Betters,3  take  thy  Fortune,  better, 

Thou  find'st  to  be  too  busie,  is  some  danger, 
Leaue   wringing   of    your   hands,    peace,    sit   you 

downe, 
And  let  me  wring  your  heart,  for  so  I  shall 
If  it  be  made  of  penetrable  stuffe  ; 
If  damned  Custome  haue  not  braz'd  it  so, 
That  it  is  proofe  and  bulwarke  against  Sense.  it  be 

Qu.  What  haue  I  done,  that  thou  dar'st  wag  Ger. 
thy  tong, 
In  noise  so  rude  against  me?'J 

Ham.  Such  an  Act 
That  blurres  the  grace  and  blush  of  Modestic,* 
Cals  Vertue  Hypocrite,,  takes  off  the  Rose 
From  the  faire  forehead  of  an  innocent  loue, 
And  makes  a  blister  there.8    Makes  marriage  vowes  And  sets  a 
As  false  as  Dicers  Oathes.     Oh  such  a  deed, 
As  from  the  body  of  Contraction  9  pluckes 
The  very  soule,  and  sweete  Religion  makes 
A  rapsidie  of  words.     Heauens  face  doth  glow,         dooes 
Yea  this  solidity  and  compound  masse,  Ore  this 

With  tristfull  visage  as  against  the  doome,  with  heated 

visage, 

Is  thought-sicke  at  the  act.10  thought  sick 

Qu.  Aye  me  ;  what  act,11  that  roares  so  lowd,12 
and  thunders  in  the  Index.13 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  169 

I  Not  in  Q.  2  — through  the  arras. 

3  Hamlet  takes  him  for,  hopes  it  is  the  king,  and  thinks  here  to  con- 
clude :  he  is  not  praying  now  !  and  there  is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost,  for 
he  has  betrayed  his  presence  and  called  for  help.  As  often  as  immediate 
action  is  demanded  of  Hamlet,  he  is  immediate  with  his  response — never 
hesitates,  never  blunders.  There  is  no  blunder  here  :  being  where  he 
was,  the  death  of  Polonius  was  necessary  now  to  the  death  of  the  king. 
Hamlet's  resolve  is  instant,  and  the  act  simultaneous  with  the  resolve.  The 
weak  man  is  sure  to  be  found  wanting  when  immediate  action  is  necessary; 
Hamlet  never  is.  Doubtless  those  who  blame  him  as  dilatory,  here  blame 
him  as  precipitate,  for  they  judge  according  to  appearance  and  consequence. 

All  his  delay  after  this  is  plainly  compelled,  although  1  grant  he  was 
not  sorry  to  have  to  await  such  more  presentable  evidence  as  at  last  he 
procured,  so  long  as  he  did  not  lose  the  final  possibility  of  vengeance. 

4  This  is  the  sole  reference  in  the  interview  to  the  murder.  I  take 
it  for  tentative,  and  that  Hamlet  is  satisfied  by  his  mother's  utterance, 
carriage,  and  expression,  that  she  is  innocent  of  any  knowledge  of  that 
crime.  Neither  does  he  allude  to  the  adultery  :  there  is  enough  in  what 
she  cannot  deny,  and  that  only  which  can  be  remedied  needs  be  taken  up  ; 
while  to  break  with  the  king  would  open  the  door  of  repentance  for  all  that 
had  preceded.  5  He  says  nothing  of  the  Ghost  to  his  mother. 

6  She  still  holds  up  and  holds  out. 

7  '  makes  Modesty  itself  suspected ' 

8  'makes  Innocence  ashamed  of  the  love  k  cherishes' 

0  '  plucks  the  spirit  out  of  all  forms  of  contracting  or  agreeing.'  We 
have  lost  the  social  and  kept  only  the  physical  meaning  of  the  noun. 

10  I  cannot  help  thinking  the  Quarto  reading  of  this  passage  the  more 
intelligible,  as  well  as  much  the  more  powerful.  We  may  imagine  a  red 
aurora,  by  no  means  a  very  unusual  phenomenon,  over  the  expanse  of 
the  sky  : —  Heaven's  face  doth  glow  {blush) 

O'er  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 
(the  earth,  solid,  niaterial,  composite,  a  corporeal  mass  in  co?tfrontment 
with  the  spirit-like  etherial,  simple,  unco?npounded  heaven  leaning  over  it) 

With  tristful  (or  heated,  as  the  reader  may  choose) 
visage  :  as  against  the  doom, 
(as  in  the  presence,  or  in  anticipation  of  the  revealing  judgment) 

Is  thought  sick  at  the  act. 
(thought  is  sick  at  the  act  of  the  queen) 

My  difficulties  as  to  the  Folio  reading  are — why  the  earth  should  be  so 
described  without  immediate  contrast  with  the  sky  ;  and — how  the  earth 
could  be  showing  a  tristful  visage,  and  the  sickness  of  its  thought.  I 
think,  if  the  Poet  indeed  made  the  alterations  and  they  are  not  mere 
blunders,  he  must  have  made  them  hurriedly,  and  without  due  attention. 
I  would  not  forget,  however,  that  there  may  be  something  present  but 
too  good  for  me  to  find,  which  would  make  the  passage  plain  as  it  stands. 
Compare  As  you  like  it,  act  i.  sc.  3. 

For,  by  this  heaven,  now  at  our  sorrows  pale, 

Say  what  thou  canst,  I'll  go  along  with  thee. 

II  In  Q.  the  rest  of  this  speech  is  Hamlet's  ;  his  long  speech  begins 
here,  taking  up  the  queen's  word.  ™  She  still  stands  out. 

13  'thunders  in  the  very  indication  or  mention  of  it.'     But  by  'the 


i7o         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  Looke  heerc   vpon  this  Picture,  and  on 
this, 
The  counterfet  presentment  of  two  Brothers  : ] 
See  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  his  Brow,  on  this 

51  Hyperions  curies,  the  front  of  Ioue  himselfe, 

An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  or  command  threaten  and 

A  Station,  like  the  Herald  Mercurie 

New  lighted  on  a  heauen  kissing  hill  :  SSmT""' 

A  Combination,  and  a  forme  indeed, 

Where  euery  God  did  seeme  to  set  his  Seale, 

To  giue  the  world  assurance  of  a  man.2 

This  was  your  Husband.     Looke  you  now  what 

followes. 
Heere  is  your  Husband,  like  a  Mildew'd  eare 
Blasting  his  wholsom  breath.     Haue  you  eyes  ?         bro°he°rme 
Could  you  on  this  faire  Mountaine  leaue  to  feed, 
And  batten  on  this  Moore  ? 3  Ha  ?  Haue  you  eyes  ? 
You  cannot  call  it  Loue  :  For  at  your  age, 
The  hey-day 4  in  the  blood  is  tame,  it's  humble, 
And  waites  vpon  the  Iudgement :  and  what  Judge- 
ment 
Would  step  from  this,  to  this  ?  *  What  diuell  was't, 

That  thus  hath  cousend  you  at  hoodman-blinde  ?  5  hodman 

## 
O  Shame  !  where  is  thy  Blush  ?     Rebellious  Hell, 

If  thou  canst  mutine  in  a  Matrons  bones, 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

,  sence  sure  youe  haue 
Els  could  you  not  haue  motion,  but  sure  that  sence 
Is  appoplext,  for  madnesse  would  not  erre 
Nor  sence  to  extacie  '  was  nere  so  thral'd 
But  it  reseru'd  some  quantity  of  choise  2 
To  serue  in  such  3  a  difference, 

**  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

Eyes  without  feeling,  feeling  without  sight. 
Eares  without  hands,  or  eyes,  smelling  sance 4  all, 
Or  but  a  sickly  part  of  one  true  sence 
Could  not  so  mope  :  * 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  i7t 

Index'  may  be  intended  the  index  or  table  of  contents  of  a  book,  at  the 
beginning  of  it. 

1  He  points  to  the  portraits  of  the  two  brothers,  side  by  side  on  the 
wall. 


See  Julius  Ca>sar,  act  v.  sc.  5,— speech  of  Antony  at  the  end. 


3  — perhaps  an  allusion  as  well  to  the  complexion  of  Claudius,  both 
moral  and  physical. 

4  — perhaps  allied  to  the  German  heida,   and  possibly  the  English 
hoyden  and  hoity-toity.     Or  is  it  merely  high-day — noontide  ? 


5  '  played  tricks  with  you  while  hooded  in  the  game  of  blind-marts- 
buffi''     The  omitted  passage  of  the  Quarto  enlarges  the  figure. 
\st  Q.  '  hob-man  blinde  ' 


madness 

Attributing  soul  to  sense,  he  calls  its  distinguishment  choice. 

—emphasis  on  such 


This  spelling  seems  to  show  how  the  English  word  sans  should  be  pronounced. 
— 'be  so  dull' 


17:         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 


To  flaming  youth,  let  Vcrtue  be  as  waxe, 
And  melt  in  her  owne  fire.     Proclaime  no  shame, 
When  the  compulsiue  Ardure  giues  the  charge, 
Since  Frost  it  selfe,1  as  actiuely  doth  burne, 
As  Reason  panders  Will. 

Qu.  O  Hamlet,  speake  no  more.2 
Thou  turn'st  mine  eyes  into  my  very  soulc, 
And  there  I  see  such  blacke  and  grained  3  spots, 
As  will  not  leaue  their  Tinct.4 

Ham.  Nay,  but  to  Hue B 
In  the  ranke  sweat  of  an  enseamed  bed, 
Stew'd  in  Corruption  ;  honying  and  making  loue 
34  Ouer  the  nasty  Stye.6 

Qu.  Oh  speake  to  me,  no  more, 
158  These  words  like  Daggers  enter  in  mine  eares. 
.  No  more  sweet  Hamlet. 

Ham.  A  Murderer,  and  a  Villaine  : 
A  Slaue,  that  is  not  twentieth  part  the  tythe 
Of  your  precedent  Lord.     A  vice  7  of  Kings-, 
A  Cutpurse  of  the  Empire  and  the  Rule. 
That  from  a  shelfe,  the  precious  Diadem  stole, 
And  put  it  in  his  Pocket. 

Qu.  No  more.8 


And  reason 

pardons  will. 

Ger. 

my  very  eyes 
into  my  soule, 

greeued  spots 

will  leaue 
there  their 


inseemed 


Ger. 


part  the  kytl 


Ger, 


44 


Enter  Ghost? 

Ham.  A  King  of  shreds  and  patches. 
Saue  me  ;  and  houer  o're  me  with  your  wings  10 
You  heauenly  Guards.     What  would  you  gracious  your  gracious 
figure  ? 
Qu.  Alas  he's  mad.11  Ger. 

Ham.  Do  you  not  come  your  tardy  Sonne  to 
chide, 
That  laps't  in  Time  and  Passion,  lets  go  by  12 
Th'important  acting  of  your  dread  command  ?    Oh 
say.13 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  173 

I  — his  mother's  matronly  age  2  She  gives  way  at  last. 

3  — spots  whose  blackness  has  sunk  into  the  grain,  or  final  particles  of 
the  substance 

4  — transition  form  of  tint :— '  will  never  give  up  their  colour  ;'.  '  will 
never  be  cleansed.' 

6  He  persists. 

6  —Claudius  himself— his  body  no  '  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,'  but  a 
pig-sty.     3 

7  The  clown  of  the  old  Moral  Play. 

8  She  seems  neither  surprised  nor  indignant  at  any  point  in  the 
accusation  :  her  consciousness  of  her  own  guilt  has  overwhelmed  her. 

9  The  1st  Q.  has  Enter  the  ghost  in  his  night  gowne.  It  was  then 
from  the  first  intended  that  he  should  not  at  this  point  appear  in  armour 
— in  which,  indeed,  the  epithet  gracious  figure  could  hardly  be  applied 
to  him,  though  it  might  well  enough  in  one  of  the  costumes  in  which 
Hamlet  was  accustomed  to  see  him — as  this  dressing-gown  of  the  1st  Q. 
A  ghost  would  appear  in  the  costume  in  which  he  naturally  imagined  him- 
self, and  in  his  wife's  room  would  not  show  himself  clothed  as  when 
walking  among  the  fortifications  of  the  castle.  But  by  the  words  lower 
down  (174; — 

'  My  Father  in  his  habite,  as  he  liued,' 
the  Poet  indicates,  not  his  dressing-gown,  but  his  usual  habit,  i.e.  attire. 

10  — almost  the  same  invocation  as  when  first  he  saw  the  apparition. 

II  The  queen  cannot  see  the  Ghost.  Her  conduct  has  built  such  a  wall 
between  her  and  her  husband  that  I  doubt  whether,  were  she  a  ghost 
also,  she  could  see  him.  Her  heart  had  left  him,  so  they  are  no  more 
together  in  the  sphere  of  mutual  vision.  Neither  does  the  Ghost  wish  to 
show  himself  to  her.  As  his  presence  is  not  corporeal,  a  ghost  may  be 
present  to  but  one  of  a  company. 

12  1.  '  Who,  lapsed  (fallen,  guilty),  lets  action  slip  in  delay  and  suffer- 
ing.' 2.  '  Who,  lapsed  in  [fallen  in,  overwhelmed  by)  delay  and  suffering, 
omits '  &c.  3.  '  lapsed  in  respect  of  time,  and  because  of  passion ' — the 
meaning  of  the  preposition  in,  common  to  both,  reacted  upon  by  the 
word  it  governs.  4.  '  faulty  both  in  delaying,  and  in  yielding  to  suffering, 
when  action  is  required.'  5.  '  lapsed  through  having  too  much  time  and 
great  suffering.'     6. '  allowing  himself  to  be  swept  along  by  time  and  grief.' 

Surely  there  is  not  another  writer  whose  words  would  so  often  admit 
of  such  multiform  and  varied  interpretation — each  form  good,  and  true, 
and  suitable  to  the  context !  He  seems  to  see  at  once  all  the  relations 
of  a  thing,  and  to  try  to  convey  them  at  once,  in  an  utterance  single  as 
the  thing  itself.  He  would  condense  the  infinite  soul  of  the  meaning  into 
the  trembling,  overtaxed  body  of  the  phrase  ! 

13  In  the  renewed  presence  of  the  Ghost,  all  its  former  influence  and 
all  the  former  conviction  of  its  truth,  return  upon  him.  He  knows  also 
how  his  behaviour  must  appear  to  the  Ghost,  and  sees  himself  as  the 
Ghost  sees  him.  Confronted  with  the  gracious  figure,  how  should  he 
think  of  self-justification  !  So  far  from  being  able  to  explain  things,  he 
even,  forgets  the  doubt  that  had  held  him  back — it  has  vanished  from  the 
noble  presence  !  He  is  now  in  the  world  of  belief;  the  world  of  doubt 
is  nowhere  !— Note  the  masterly  opposition  of  moods. 


174         THE    TRAGED1E    OF  HAMLET, 

Ghost.  Do  not  forget :  this  Visitation 
Is  but  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted  purpose.1 
But  looke,  Amazement  on  thy  Mother  sits  ; 2 
3°>  54  O  step  betweene  her,  and  her  fighting  Soule,3 
198  Conceit4  in  weakest  bodies,  strongest  workes. 
Speake  to  her  Hamlet? 

Ham.  How  is  it  with  you  Lady  ? 6 
Qu.  Alas,  how  is't  with  you  ?  Ger. 

That  you  bend  your  eye  on  vacancie,  you  do  bend 

And  with  their  corporall  ayre  do  hold  discourse.        wkh  th'bcor- 

*  *  porall  ayre 

Forth  at  your  eyes,  your  spirits  wildely  peepe, 
And  as  the  sleeping  Soldiours  in  th'Alarme, 
Your  bedded  haire,  like  life  in  excrements,7 
Start  vp,  and  stand  an  end.8     Oh  gentle  Sonne, 
Vpon  the  heate  and  flame  of  thy  distemper 
Sprinkle  coole  patience.   Whereon  do  you  looke  ? 9 
Ham.  On  him,  on  him  :  look  you  how  pale  he 
glares, 
His  forme  and  cause  conioyn'd,  preaching  to  stones, 
Would  make  them  capeable.10     Do  not  looke  vpon 

me,11 
Least  with  this  pitteous  action  you  conuert 
My  sterne  effects  :  then  what  I  haue  to  do,12 
1 1 1    Will  want  true  colour  ;  teares  perchance  for  blood.13 

Qu.  To  who  do  you  speake  this?  Cet,  Towhom 

Ham.  Do  you  see  nothing  there  ? 
Qu.  Nothing  at  all,  yet  all  that  is  I  see.14  Ger. 

Ham.  Nor  did  you  nothing  heare  ? 
Qu.  No,  nothing  but  our  selues.  Ger. 

Ham.  Why  look  you  there  :  looke  how  it  steals 
away : 
173   My  Father  in  his  habite,  as  he  liued, 

Looke  where  he  goes  euen  now  out  at  the  Portall. 

Exit.    Exit  Ghost. 

114  Qu.  This  is  the  very  coynage  of  your  Braine,       Ger. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  175 


1  The  Ghost  here  judges,  as  alone  is  possible  to  him,  from  what  he 
knows— from  the  fact  that  his  brother  Claudius  has  not  yet  made  his  ap- 
pearance in  the  ghost-world.  Not  understanding  Hamlet's  difficulties, 
he  mistakes  Hamlet  himself. 

2  He  mistakes  also,  through  his  tenderness,  the  condition  of  his  wife — 
imagining,  it  would  seem,  that  she  feels  his  presence,  though  she  cannot 
see  him,  or  recognize  the  source  of  the  influence  which  he  supposes  to 
be  moving  her  conscience  :  she  is  only  perturbed  by  Hamlet's  behaviour. 

3  —fighting  within  itself,  as  the  sea  in  a  storm  may  be  said  to  fight. 
He  is  careful  as  ever  over  the  wife  he  had  loved  and  loves  still ; 

careful  no  less  of  the  behaviour  of  the  son  to  his  mother. 
In  the  1st  Q.  we  have  : — 

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. 

4  — not  used  here  for  bare  imagination,  but  imagination  with  its  con- 
comitant feeling  : — conception.    198 

5  His  last  word  ere  he  vanishes  utterly,  concerns  his  queen  ;  he  is 
tender  and  gracious  still  to  her  who  sent  him  to  hell.  This  attitude  of 
the  Ghost  towards  his  faithless  wife,  is  one  of  the  profoundest  things  in 
the  play.  All  the  time  she  is  not  thinking  of  him  any  more  than  seeing 
him — for  '  is  he  not  dead  !' — is  looking  straight  at  where  he  stands,  but  is 
all  unaware  of  him. 

6  I  understand  him  to  speak  this  with  a  kind  of  lost,  mechanical  obedi- 
ence. The  description  his  mother  gives  of  him  makes  it  seem  as  if  the 
Ghost  were  drawing  his  ghost  out  to  himself,  and  turning  his  body  there- 
by half  dead. 

7  '  as  if  there  were  life  in  excrements.'  The  nails  and  hair  were  '  ex- 
crements ' — things  growing  out. 

8  Note  the  form  an  end — not  on  end.     51,  71 

9  — all  spoken  coaxingly,  as  to  one  in  a  mad  fit.  She  regards  his 
perturbation  as  a  sudden  assault  of  his  ever  present  malady. 

One  who  sees  what  others  cannot  see  they  are  always  ready  to  count 
mad. 

10  able  to  take,  that  is,  to  understand 

11  — to  the  Ghost. 

12  i  what  is  in  my  power  to  do ' 

13  Note  antithesis  here  :  '  your  piteous  action',"1  u  my  stern  effects'1 — 
i  the  things,'  that  is,  '  which  I  have  to  effect.'  '  Lest  your  piteous  show 
convert — change— my  stern  doing  ;  then  what  I  do  will  lack  true  colour  ; 
the  result  may  be  tears  instead  of  blood  ;  I  shall  weep  instead  of  striking.' 

14  It  is  one  of  the  constantly  recurring  delusions  of  humanity  that  we 
see  all  there  is. 


176         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

IJ4  This  bodilesse  Creation  extasie1   is   very  cunning 

in.2 
Ham.  Extasie?3 
My  Pulse  as  yours  doth  temperately  keepe  time, 
And  makes  as  healthfull  Musicke.4     It  is  not  mad- 

nesse 
That  I  haue  vttered  ;  bring  me  to  the  Test 
And  I  the  matter  will  re-word  :  which  madnesse       And  the 
Would  gamboll  from.     Mother,  for  loue  of  Grace, 
Lay  not  a  flattering  Vnction  to  your  soule,  not  that 

flattering 

That  not  your  trespasse,  but  my  madnesse  speakes  : 
182   It  will  but  skin  and  filme  the  Vlcerous  place, 

Whil'st  ranke  Corruption  mining  all  within,  whiles 

Infects  vnseene      Confesse  your  selfe  to  Heauen, 

Repent  what's  past,  auoyd  what  is  to  come, 

And  do  not  spred  the  Compost  or  the  Weedes,  compost  on  the 

To  make  them  ranke.    Forgiue  me  this  my  Vertue,  ranker, 

For  in  the  fatnesse  of  this  pursie 8  times,  these 

Vertue  it  selfe,  of  Vice  must  pardon  begge, 

Yea  courb,6  and  woe,  for  leaue  to  do  him  good.  curt* and 

wooe 

Qu.  Oh  Hamlet,  Ger. 

Thou  hast  cleft  my  heart  in  twaine. 

Ham.  O  throw  away  the  worser  part  of  it, 

And  Hue  the  purer  with  the  other  halfe.  And  leaue  the 

Good  night,  but  go  not  to  mine  Vnkles  bed,  my 

Assume  a  Vertue,  if  you  haue  it  not,7*  refraine  to  Assunej  to  re- 
frame  night, 

night, 
And  that  shall  lend  a  kinde  of  easinesse 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — - 

1  That  monster  custome,  who  all  sence  doth  eate 
Of  habits  deuill,2  is  angell  yet  in  this 
That  to  the  vse  of  actions  faire  and  good, 
He  likewise  giues  a  frock  or  Liuery 
That  aptly  is  put  on 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  177 

1  madness     129 

8  Here  is  the  correspondent  speech  in  the  1st  Q.  I  give  it  because 
of  the  queen's  denial  of  complicity  in  the  murder. 

Queene  Alas,  it  is  the  weakenesse  of  thy  braine. 
Which  makes  thy  tongue  to  blazon  thy  hearts  griefe  : 
But  as  I  haue  a  soule,  I  sweare  by  heauen, 
I  neuer  knew  of  this  most  horride  murder  : 
But  Hamlet,  this  is  onely  fantasie, 
And  for  my  loue  forget  these  idle  fits. 

Ham.  Idle,  no  mother,  my  pulse  doth  beate  like  yours, 
It  is  not  madnesse  that  possesseth  Hamlet. 

3  Not  in  Q. 

4  — time  being  a  great  part  of  music.  Shakspere  more  than  once  or 
twice  employs  music  as  a  symbol  with  reference  to  corporeal  condition : 
see,  for  instance,  As  you  like  it,  act  i.  sc.  2,  '  But  is  there  any  else  longs 
to  see  this  broken  music  in  his  sides  ?  is  there  yet  another  dotes  upon 
rib-breaking  ? '  where  the  broken  music  may  be  regarded  as  the  antithesis 
of  the  healthful  music  here. 


5  swoln,  pampered :  an  allusion  to  the  purse  itself,  whether  intended 
or  not,  is  suggested. 

6  bend,  bow 


7  To  assume  is  to  take  to  one  :  by  assume  a  virtue,  Hamlet  does  not 
mean  pretend — but  the  very  opposite  :  to  pretend  is  to  hold  forth,  to  show ; 
what  he  means  is,  '  Adopt  a  virtue  ' — that  of  abstinence — '  and  act  upon 
it,  order  your  behaviour  by  it,  although  you  may  not  feel  it.  Choose  the 
virtue — take  it,  make  it  yours.' 


1  This  omitted  passage  is  obscure  with  the  special  Shaksperean  obscurity  that  comes  of 
over-condensation.  He  omitted  it,  I  think,  because  of  its  obscurity.  Its  general  meaning  is 
plain  enough— that  custom  helps  the  man  who  tries  to  assume  a  virtue,  as  well  as  renders  it  more 
and  more  difficult  for  him  who  indulges  in  vice  to  leave  it.  I  will  paraphrase  :  '  That  monster, 
Custom,  who  eats  away  all  sense,  the  devil  of  habits,  is  angel  yet  in  this,  that,  for  the  exercise 
of  fair  and  good  actions,  he  also  provides  a  habit,  a  suitable  frock  or  livery,  that  is  easily  put  on.' 
The  play  with  the  two  senses  of  the  word  habit  is  more  easily  seen  than  set  forth.  To  paraphrase 
more  freely  :  '  That  devil  of  habits,  Custom,  who  eats  away  all  sense  of  wrong-doing,  has  yet  an 
angel-side  to  him,  in  that  he  gives  a  man  a  mental  dress,  a  habit,  helpful  to  the  doing  of  the  right 
thing.'  The  idea  of  hypocrisy  does  not  come  in  at  all.  The  advice  of  Hamlet  is  :  '  Be  virtuous  in 
your  actions,  even  if  you  cannot  in  your  feelings  ;  do  not  do  the  wrong  thing  you  would  like  to 
do,  and  custom  will  render  the  abstinence  easy.' 

■  I  suspect  it  should  be  '  Of  habits  evil' — the  antithesis  to  angel  being  monster. 

N 


1 78         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

To  the  next  abstinence.  *  Once  more  goodnight, 

And  when  you  are  desirous  to  be  blest, 

He  blessing  begge  of  you.1     For  this  same  Lord, 

I  do  repent :  but  heauen  hath  pleas'd  it  so,2 

To  punish  me  with  this,  and  this  with  me, 

That  I  must  be  their3  Scourge  and  Minister. 

I  will  bestow  him,4  and  will  answer  well 

The  death  I  gaue  him  : 5  so  againe,  good  night. 

I  must  be  cruell,  onely  to  be  kinde  ; 6 

Thus  bad  begins,7  and  worse  remaines  behinde.8        This  bad 

Qu.  What  shall  I  do  ?  Ger. 

Ham.  Not  this  by  no  meanes  that  I  bid  you  do  : 
Let  the  blunt  King  tempt  you  againe  to  bed,  the biowt  King 

Pinch  Wanton  on  your  cheeke,  call  you  his  Mouse, 
And  let  him  for  a  paire  of  reechie 9  kisses, 
Or  padling  in  your  necke  with  his  damn'd  Fingers, 
Make  you  to  rauell  all  this  matter  out,  roueii 

60,136,  That  I  essentially  am  not  in  madnesse. 
l$        But  made  in  craft.10   'Twere  good  you  let  him  know,  mad 
For  who  that's  but  a  Queene,  faire,  sober,  wise, 
Would  from  a  Paddocke,11  from  a  Bat,  a  Gibbe,12 
Such  deere  concernings  hide,   Who  would  do  so, 
No  in  despight  of  Sense  and  Secrecie, 
Vnpegge  the  Basket  on  the  houses  top  : 
Let  the  Birds  flye,  and  like  the  famous  Ape 
To  try  Conclusions  13  in  the  Basket,  creepe 
And  breake  your  owne  necke  downe.14 

Qu.  Be  thou  assur'd,  if  words  be  made  of  breath,  g#>. 


*  H-ere  in  the  Quarto  ,• — 

,  the  next  more  easie  : l 

For  vse  almost  can  change  the  stamp  of  nature, 

And  either 2  the  deuill,  or  throwe  him  out 

With  wonderous  potency  : 
**  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

One  word  more  good  Lady.3 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  i79 


1  In  bidding  his  mother  good  night,  he  would  naturally,  after  the 
custom  of  the  time,  have  sought  her  blessing :  it  would  be  a  farce  now  : 
when  she  seeks  the  blessing  of  God,  he  will  beg  hers  ;  now,  a  plain  good 
7iight  must  serve. 

2  Note  the  curious  inverted  use  of  pleased.  It  is  here  a  transitive,  not 
an  impersonal  verb.  The  construction  of  the  sentence  is,  '  pleased  it  so,  in 
order  to  punish  us,  that  I  must '  &c. 

3  The  noun  to  which  their  is  the  pronoun  is  heaven— as  if  he  had 
written  the  gods. 

4  '  take  him  to  a  place  fit  for  him  to  lie  in ' 

5  'hold  my  face  to  it,  and  justify  it' 

6  — omitting  or  refusing  to  embrace  her 

7  — looking  at  Polonius 

8  Does  this  mean  for  himself  to  do,  or  for  Polonius  to  endure  ? 


reeky,  smoky,  fumy 


10  Hamlet  considers  his  madness  the  same  that  he  so  deliberately 
assumed.  But  his  idea  of  himself  goes  for  nothing  where  the  experts 
conclude  him  mad  !  His  absolute  clarity  where  he  has  no  occasion  to 
act  madness,  goes  for  as  little,  for  v  all  madmen  have  their  sane  moments  ' ! 

11  a  toad;  in  Scotland,  a  frog 

12  an  old  cat 

13  Experiments,  Steevens  says  :  is  it  not  rather  results  ? 

14  I  fancy  the  story,  which  so  far  as  I  know  has  not  been  traced,  goes 
on  to  say  that  the  basket  was  emptied  from  the  house-top  to  send  the 
pigeons  flying,  and  so  the  ape  got  his  neck  broken.  The  phrase  '  breake 
your  owne  necke  downe '  seems  strange  :  it  could  hardly  have  been  written 
neck-bone  ! 


1  This  passage  would  fall  in  better  with  the  preceding  with  which  it  is  vitally  one-for  it 
would  more  evenly  continue  its  form— if  the  preceding  devil  were,  as  I  propose  above,  changed 
to  evil.     But,  precious  as  is  every  word  in  them,  both  passages  are  well  omitted. 

a  Plainly  there  is  a  word  left  out,  if  not  lost  here.  There  is  no  authority  for  the  supplied 
master.     I  am  inclined  to  propose  a  pause  and  a  gesture,  with  perhaps  an  inarticulation . 

3  — interrogatively  perhaps,  Hamlet  noting  her  about  to  speak  ;  but  I  would  prefer  it  thus  : 

1  One  word  more  :—  good  lady '     Here  he  pauses  so  long  that  she  speaks.     Or  we  might 

read  it  thus  : 

Qu.  One  word  more. 
Ham.  Good  lady? 
Qu.  What  shall  I  do? 

N  2 


180         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF    HAMLET, 

And  breath  of  life  :  I  haue  no  life  to  breath 

What  thou  hast  saide  to  me.1 

128,  158         Ham.  I  must  to  England,  you  know  that?2 

Qu.  Alacke  I  had  forgot :  Tis  so  concluded  on.   Ger. 

Ham.  *  This  man  shall  set  me  packing : 3 

He  lugge  the  Guts  into  the  Neighbor  roome,4 

Mother  goodnight.     Indeede  this  Counsellor  ni?ht  indeed, 

Is  now  most  still,  most  secret,  and  most  graue, 

84  Who  was  in  life,  a  foolish  prating  Knaue,  a  most  foolish 

Come  sir,  to  draw  toward  an  end  with  you.5 

Good  night  Mother. 

Exit  Hamlet  tugging  in  Polonius?       Exit. 
1 

Enter  King.  Enter  King, 

and  Queene, 

King.  There's  matters  in  these  sighes,  ILusanT 

,_..  r  .   t  Guyldensterne. 

Ihese  profound  heaues 

You  must  translate  ;  Tis  fit  we  vnderstand  them. 

Where  is  your  Sonne  ? 8 

Qu.**  Ah  my  good  Lord,  what  haue  I  seene  to  Ger.  1  Ah  mine 

owne  Lord, 

night  ? 
King.  What  Gertrude}     How  do's  Hamlet} 
Qu.  Mad  as  the  Seas,  and  winde,  when  both  Ger.  |  sea  and 
contend 
Which  is  the  Mightier,  in  his  lawlesse  fit 9 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

1  Tiler's  letters  seald,  and  my  two  Schoolefellowes, 
Whom  I  will  trust  as  I  will  Adders  fang'd, 
They  beare  the  mandat,  they  must  sweep  my  way 
And  marshall  me  to  knauery 2  :  let  it  worke, 
For  tis  the  sport  to  haue  the  enginer 
Hoist 3  with  his  owne  petar,4  an't  shall  goe  hard 
But  I  will  delue  one  yard  belowe  their  mines, 
And  blowe  them  at  the  Moone  :  6  tis  most  sweete 
When  in  one  line  two  crafts  directly  meete, 

**  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

Bestow  this  place  on  vs  a  little  while.5 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  1S1 

1   \st  Q.  O  mother,  if  euer  you  did  my  deare  father  loue, 
Forbeare  the  adulterous  bed  to  night, 
And  win  your  selfe  by  little  as  you  may, 
In  time  it  may  be  you  wil  lothe  him  quite  : 
And  mother,  but  assist  mee  in  reuenge, 
And  in  his  death  your  infamy  shall  die. 

Queene    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. 
2  The  king  had  spoken  of  it  both  before  and  after  the  play:  Horatio 
might  have  heard  of  it  and  told  Hamlet. 

8  '  My  banishment  will  be  laid  to  this  deed  of  mine.' 

4  — to  rid  his  mother  of  it 

5  It  may  cross  him,  as  he  says  this,  dragging  the  body  out  by  one  end 
of  it,  and  toward  the  end  of  its  history,  that  he  is  himself  drawing  to- 
ward an  end  along  with  Polonius. 

6  — and  weeping.     182.     See  note  5,  183. 

7  Here,  according  to  the  editors,  comes  '  Act  IV.'  For  this  there  is 
no  authority,  and  the  point  of  division  seems  to  me  very  objectionable, 
The  scene  remains  the  same,  as  noted  from  Capell  in  Cam.  Sn.,  and  the 
entrance  of  the  king  follows  immediately  on  the  exit  of  Hamlet.  He 
finds  his  wife  greatly  perturbed  :  she  has  not  had  time  to  compose  herself. 

From  the  beginning  of  Act  IL,  on  to  where  I  would  place  the  end 
of  Act  III.,  there  is  continuity, 

8  I  would  have  this  speech  uttered  with  pauses  and  growing  urgency, 
mingled  at  length  with  displeasure. 

9  She  is  faithful  to  her  son,  declaring  him  mad,  and  attributing  the 
death  of  « the  unseen  '  Polonius  to  his  madness. 


1  This  passage,  like  the  rest,  I  hold  to  be  omitted  by  Shakspere  himself.  It  represents 
Hamlet  as  divining  the  plot  with  whose  execution  his  false  friends  were  entrusted.  The  Poet  had 
at  first  intended  Hamlet  to  go  on  board  the  vessel  with  a  design  formed  upon  this  for  the  out- 
witting of  his  companions,  and  to  work  out  that  design.  Afterwards,  however,  he  alters  his 
plan,  and  represents  his  escape  as  more  plainly  providential :  probably  he  did  not  see  how  to 
manage  it  by  any  scheme  of  Hamlet  so  well  as  by  the  attack  of  a  pirate  ;  possibly  he  wished 
to  write  the  passage  (246)  in  which  Hamlet,  so  consistently  with  his  character,  attributes  his 
return  to  the  divine  shaping  of  the  end  rough-hewn  by  himself.  He  had  designs — '  dear  plots ' — 
but  they  were  other  than  fell  out — a  rough-hewing  that  was  shaped  to  a  different  end.  The  dis- 
comfiture of  his  enemies  was  not  such  as  he  had  designed  :  it  was  brought  about  by  no  previous 
plot,  but  through  a  discovery.  At  the  same  time  his  deliverance  was  not  effected  by  the  fingering 
of  the  packet,  but  by  the  attack  of  the  pirate  :  even  the  re-writing  of  the  commission  did  no- 
thing towards  his  deliverance,  resulted  only  in  the  punishment  of  his  traitorous  companions. 
In  revising  the  Quarto,  the  Poet  sees  that  the  passage  before  us,  in  which  is  expressed  the 
strongest  suspicion  of  his  companions,  with  a  determination  to  outwit  and  punish  them,  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  representation  Hamlet  gives  afterwards  of  a  restlessness  and  suspicion  newly 
come  upon  him,  which  he  attributes  to  the  Divinity. 

Neither  was  it  likely  he  would  say  so  much  to  his  mother  while  so  little  sure  of  her  as  to  warn 
her,  on  the  ground  of  danger  to  herself,  against  revealing  his  sanity  to  the  king.  As  to  this, 
however,  the  portion  omitted  might,  I  grant,  be  regarded  as  an  aside. 

2  — to  be  done  to  him 

3  Hoised,  from  verb  hoise— still  used  in  Scotland. 

*  a  kind  of  explosive  shell,  which  was  fixed  to  the  object  meant  to  be  destroyed.  Note 
once  more  Hamlet's  delight  in  action. 

5  —said  to  Ros.  and  Guild. :  in  plain  speech,  '  Leave  us  a  little  while.' 


182         THE    TRAGED1E    OF  HAMLET, 

Behinde  the  Arras,  hearing  something  stirre, 

He  whips  his  Rapier  out,  and  cries  a  Rat,  a  Rat,       whyps  out  his 

r  r  '  '  '  Rapier,  cryes  a 

And  in  his  brainish  apprehension  killes  in  this 

The  vnseene  good  old  man. 
King.  Oh  heauy  deed  : 
It  had  bin  so  with  vs  1  had  we  beene  there  : 
His  Liberty  is  full  of  threats  to  all,2 
To  you  your  selfe,  to  vs,  to  euery  one. 
Alas,  how  shall  this  bloody  deede  be  answered  ? 
It  will  be  laide  to  vs,  whose  prouidence 
Should  haue  kept  short,  restraint,  and  out  of  haunt, 
This  mad  yong  man.2     But  so  much  was  our  loue, 
We  would  not  vnderstand  what  was  most  fit, 
But  like  the  Owner  of  a  foule  disease, 
176  To  keepe  it  from  divulging,  let's  it  feede  ietit 

Euen  on  the  pith  of  life.     Where  is  he  gone  ? 

Qu.  To  draw  apart  the  body  he  hath  kild,  <Ur. 

O're  whom  his  very  madnesse 3  like  some  Oare 
Among  a  Minerall  of  Mettels  base 
181   Shewes  it  selfe  pure.4    He  weepes  for  what  is  done.5  pure,  a  weepes 
King.  Oh  Gertrude,  come  away  : 
The  Sun  no  sooner  shall  the  Mountaines  touch, 
But  we  will  ship  him  hence,  and  this  vilde  deed, 
We  must  with  all  our  Maiesty  and  Skill 
200  Both  countenance,  and  excuse.6  Enter  Ros.  &  Guild? 
Ho  Guildenstern : 

Friends  both  go  ioyne  you  with  some  further  ayde  : 
Hamlet  in  madnesse  hath  Polonius  slaine, 
And  from  his  Mother  Clossets  hath  he  drag'd  him.  closet  1  dreg'd 
Go  seeke  him  out,  speake  faire,  and  bring  the  body 
Into  the  Chappell.     I  pray  you  hast  in  this. 

Exit  Gent.9, 
Come  Gertrude,  wee'l  call  vp  our  wisest  friends, 
To  let  them  know  both  what  we  meane  to  do.  And  let 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  183 


1  — the  royal  plural 

2  He  knows  the  thrust  was  meant  for  him.  but  he  would  not  have  it 
so  understood  ;  he  too  lays  it  to  his  madness,  though  he  too  knows  better. 


he,  although  mad';  '  his  nature,  in  spite  of  his  madness  ' 


4  — by  his  weeping,  in  the  midst  of  much  to  give  a  different  impres- 
sion.' 

5  We  have  no  reason  to  think  the  queen  inventing  here  :  what  could 
she  gain  by  it  ?  the  point  indeed  was  rather  against  Hamlet,  as  showing 
it  was  not  Polonius  he  had  thought  to  kill.  He  was  more  than  ever 
annoyed  with  the  contemptible  old  man,  who  had  by  his  meddlesome- 
ness brought  his  death  to  his  door ;  but  he  was  very  sony  nevertheless 
over  Ophelia's  father  :  those  rough  words  in  his  last  speech  are  spoken 
with  the  tears  running  down  his  face.  We  have  seen  the  strange,  almost 
discordant  mingling  in  him  of  horror  and  humour,  after  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  Ghost,  58,  60  :  something  of  the  same  maybe  supposed  when 
he  finds  he  has  killed  Polonius  :  in  the  highstrung  nervous  condition 
that  must  have  followed  such  a  talk  with  his  mother,  it  would  be  nowise 
strange  that  he  should  weep  heartily  even  in  the  midst  of  contemptuous 
anger.  Or  perhaps  a  sudden  breakdown  from  attempted  show  of  in- 
difference, would  not  be  amiss  in  the  representation. 

6  'both  countenance  with  all  our  majesty,  and  excuse  with  all  our 
skill.' 

7  In  the  Quarto  3.  line  back. 

8  Not  in  Q. 


i56 


iS4         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

And  what's  vntimely  l  done.  *  Oh  come  away,  doone, 

My  soule  is  full  of  discord  and  dismay.        Exeunt. 

Enter  Hamlet.  HamUt% 

Rosencratm, 

Ham.  Safely  stowed.*2  «***»>». 

stowed,  but 

Gentlemen  within.     Hamlet,  Lord  Hamlet?  soft> what 

noyse, 

Ham.  What  noise  ?     Who  cals  on  Hamlet  ? 
Oh  heere  they  come. 

Enter  Eos.  and  Guildensterne* 

Ro.  W7hat  haue  you  done  my  Lord  with  the 
dead  body? 

Ham.  Compounded  it  with  dust,  whereto  'tis  compound  it 
Kinne.5 

Rosin.  Tell  vs  where  'tis,,  that  we  may  take  it 
thence, 
And  beare  it  to  the  Chappell. 

Ham.  Do  not  beleeue  it.6 

Rosin.  Beleeue  what  ? 

Ham.  That  I  can  keepe  your  counsell,  and  not 
mine  owne.  Besides,  to  be  demanded  of  a  Spundge, 
what  replication  should  be  made  by  the  Sonne  of 
a  King.7 

Rosin.  Take  you  me  for  a  Spundge,  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  I  sir,  that  sokes  vp  the  Kings  Counten- 
ance, his  Rewards,  his  Authorities  (but  such  Officers 
do  the  King  best  seruice  in  the  end.  He  keepes 
them  like  an  Ape   in   the  corner  of  his  iaw,8  first  ifceanappie 

r  '  in 

mouth'd  to  be  last  swallowed,  when  he  needes  what 
you  haue  glean'd,  it  is  but  squeezing  you,  and 
Spundge  you  shall  be  dry  againe. 

Rosin.   I  vnderstand  you  not  my  Lord. 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

Whose  whisper  ore  the  worlds  dyameter,1 
206  As  leuell  as  the  Cannon  to  his  blanck,2 

Transports  his  poysned  shot,  may  mifte "  our  Name, 
And  hit  the  woundlesse  ayre. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  185 

1  unhappily 


2  He  has  hid  the  body — to  make  the  whole  look  the  work  of  a  mad  fit. 

3  This  line  is  not  in  the  Quarto. 


4  Not  in  Q.     See  margin  above. 


5  He  has  put  it  in  a  place  which,  little  visited,  is  very  dusty. 


6  He  is  mad  to  them — sane  only  to  his  mother  and  Horatio. 


7  eiifihuistic  :  'asked  a  question  by  a  sponge,  what  answer  should  a 
prince  make  ? ' 

8  1st  Q.  :    For  hee  doth  keep  you  as  an  Ape  doth  nuttes. 

In  the  corner  of  his  law,  first  mouthes  you, 
Then  swallowes  you  : 


1  Here  most  modern  editors  insert,  'so,  haply,  slander'.  But,  although  I  think  the  Poet 
left  out  this  obscure  passage  merely  from  dissatisfaction  with  it,  1  believe  it  renders  a  worthy 
sense  as  it  stands.  The  antecedent  to  whose  is  friends  ;  cannon  is  nominative  to  transports  ;  and 
the  only  difficulty  is  the  epithet  poysned  applied  to  shot,  which  seems  transposed  from  the  idea 
of  an  unfriendly  whisper.  Perhaps  Shakspere  wrote  poysed  shot.  But  taking  this  as  it  stands, 
the  passage  might  be  paraphrased  thus  :  'Whose  (favourable)  whisper  over  the  world's  diameter 
{from  one  side  of  the  world  to  the  other),  as  level  (as  truly  aimed)  as  the  cannon  (of  an  evil 
whisper)  transports  its  poisoned  shot  to  his  blank  (the  white  centre  of  the  target),  may  shoot 
past  our  name  (so  keeping  us  clear),  and  hit  only  the  invulnerable  air.'  ('  the  intrenchant  air' : 
Macbeth,  act  v.  sc.  8).  This  interpretation  rests  on  the  idea  of  over-condensation  with  its  tendency 
to  seeming  confusion  — the  only  fault  I  know  in  the  Poet— a  grand  fault,  peculiarly  his  own,  born 
of  the  beating  of  his  wings  against  the  impossible.  It  is  much  as  if,  able  to  think  two  thoughts 
at  once,  he  would  compel  his  phrase  to  utter  them  at  once. 
u  for  the  harlot  king 

Is  quite  beyond  mine  arm,  out  of  the  blank 
And  level  of  my  biain,  plot-proof; 

7Vie  Winter's  Tale,  act  if.  sc.  3. 
My  life  stands  in  the  level'  of  jour  dreams, 

Ibid,  act  iii.  sc.  2. 
*  two  ff  for  two  \ongff 


1 86         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  I  am  glad  of  it :  a  knauish  speech 
sleepes  in  a  foolish  eare. 

Rosin.  My  Lord,  you  must  tell  vs  where  the 
body  is,  and  go  with  vs  to  the  King. 

Ham.  The  body  is  with  the  King,  but  the  King 
is  not  with  the  body.1     The  King,  is  a  thing 

Guild.  A  thing  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Of  nothing 2 :  bring  me  to  him,  hide 
Fox,  and  all  after.3  Exeunt* 

Enter  King.  King,  and  two 

or  three. 

King.  I  haue  sent  to  seeke  him,  and  to  find  the 
bodie : 
How  dangerous  is  it  that  this  man  goes  loose : 5 
Yet  must  not  we  put  the  strong  Law  on  him  : 
212   Hee's  loued  of  the  distracted  multitude,6 

Who  like  not  in  their  iudgement,  but  their  eyes : 

And  where  'tis  so,  th'Offenders  scourge  is  weigh'd 

But  neerer  the  offence :  to  beare  all  smooth,  and  neuer  the 

euen, 
This  sodaine  sending  him  away,  must  seeme 
1 20  Deliberate  pause,7  diseases  desperate  growne, 
By  desperate  appliance  are  releeued, 
Or  not  at  all.  Enter  Rosincrane.  Rosencram 

and  all  the 

How  now  ?     What  hath  befalne  ?  resU 

Rosin.  Where  the  dead  body  is  bestow'd  my 
Lord, 
We  cannot  get  from  him. 
King.  But  where  is  he  ? 8 
Rosin.  Without  my  Lord,  guarded 9  to  know 

your  pleasure. 
King.  Bring  him  before  vs. 
Rosin.  Hoa,  Guildensterne  ?  Bring  in  my  Lord.  Ros.  How, 

bring  in  the 
Lord.     They 

Enter  Hamlet  and  Guildensterne™  enter- 

King.  Now  Hamlet,  where's  Polonius  ? 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  187 


1  ■  The  body  is  in  the  king's  house,  therefore  with  the  king  ;  but  the 
king  knows  not  where,  therefore  the  king  is  not  with  the  body.' 

2  •  A  thing  of  nothing '  seems  to  have  been  a  common  phrase. 

3  The  Quarto  has  not  *  hide  Fox,  and  all  after.' 

4  Hamlet  darts  out,  with  the  others  after  him,  as  in  a  hunt.    Possibly 
there  was  a  game  called  Hide  fox,  and  all  after. 


5  He  is  a  hypocrite  even  to  himself. 

6  This  had  all  along  helped  to  Hamlet's  safety. 


7  '  must  be  made  to  look  the  result  of  deliberate  reflection.'  Claudius 
fears  the  people  may  imagine  Hamlet  treacherously  used,  driven  to  self- 
defence,  and  hurried  out  of  sight  to  be  disposed  of. 


8  Emphasis  on  he ;  the  point  of  importance  with  the  king,  is  where 
he  is,  not  where  the  body  is. 

9  Henceforward  he  is  guarded,  or  at  least  closely  watched,  according 
to  the  Folio— left  much  to  himself  according  to  the  Quarto.     192 


Not  in  Quarto, 


1 88         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  At  Supper. 
Ki?ig.  At  Supper?     Where? 

Ham.  Not  where  he  eats,  but  where  he  is  eaten,  where  a  is 
a  certaine  conuocation  of  wormes  are  e'ne  at  him.  of  politique 

wormes ' 

Your  worm  is  your  onely  Emperor  for  diet.     We 

fat  all  creatures  else  to  fat  vs,  and  we  fat  our  selfe  oandum 

for   Magots.      Your    fat    King,   and    your    leane 

Begger  is  but  variable  seruice  to  dishes,  but  to  one  ,  two  dishes 

Table  that's  the  end. 

*. 
King.  What  dost  thou  meane  by  this  ?  2 

Ham.  Nothing  but  to  shew  you  how  a  King 
may  go  a  Progresse 3  through  the  guts  of  a  Begger.4 

King.  Where  is  Polonius. 

Ham.  In  heauen,  send  thither  to  see.  If  your 
Messenger  finde  him  not  there,  seeke  him  i'th  other 
place  your  selfe  :  but  indeed,  if  you  finde  him  not  but  if  indeed 

you  find  him 

this  moneth,  you  shall  nose  him  as  you  go  vp  the   not  within  this 
staires  into  the  Lobby. 

King.  Go  seeke  him  there. 

Ham.  He  will  stay  till  ye  come.  a  win  stay  tin 

you 

K.  Hamlet,  this  deed  of  thine,  for  thine  especial  this  deede  for 

thine  especiall 

safety 
Which  we  do  tender,  as  we  deerely  greeue 
For  that  which  thou  hast  done,5  must  send  thee 

hence 
With  fierie    Quicknesse.6     Therefore    prepare  thy 

selfe, 
The  Barke  is  readie,  and  the  winde  at  helpe,7 
Th'Associates  tend,8  and  euery  thing  at  bent  js  bent 

For  England. 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 
King.  Alas,  alas.1 

Ham.  A  man  may  fish  with  the  worme  that  hath  eate  of  a  King,  and 
eate  of  the  fish  that  hath  fedde  of  that  worme. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  189 


1  — such  as  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne  ! 


2  I  suspect  this  and  the  following  speech  ought  by  the  printers  to 
have  been  omitted  also  :  without  the  preceding  two  speeches  of  the 
Quarto  they  are  not  accounted  for. 

3  a  royal  progress 

4  Hamlet's  philosophy  deals  much  now  with  the  worthlessness  of  all 
human  distinctions  and  affairs. 


5  J  and  we  care  for  your  safety  as  much  as  we  grieve  for  the  death  of 
Polonius' 


4  With  fierie  Quicknesse.'  not  irt  Qkart^ 

fair — ready  to  help 
attend,  wait 


1  —pretending  despair  over  his  madness 


j9o         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  For  England  ? 

King.  I  Hamlet. 

Ham.  Good. 

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

Ham.  I    see   a   Cherube   that  see's  him  :    but  sees  them, 
come,  for  England.     Farewell  deere  Mother. 

King.  Thy  louing  Father  Hamlet. 

Hamlet.  My    Mother  :    Father   and  Mother  is 
man  and  wife  :  man  and  wife  is  one  flesh,  and  so  flesh,  so  my 
my  mother.1    Come,  for  England.  Exit 

195         King.  Follow  him  at  foote,2 
Tempt  him  with  speed  aboord  : 
Delay  it  not,  He  haue  him  hence  to  night. 
Away,  for  euery  thing  is  Seal'd  and  done 
That   else  leanes  on3  th'Affaire   pray   you   make 

hast. 
And  England,  if  my  loue  thou  holdst  at  ought, 
As  my  great  power  thereof  may  giue  thee  sense, 
Since  yet  thy  Cicatrice  lookes  raw  and  red 4 
After  the  Danish  Sword,  and  thy  free  awe 
Payes  homage  to  vs5  ;  thou  maist  not  coldly  set6 
Our  Soueraigne  Processe,7  which  imports  at  full 
By  Letters  coniuring  to  that  effect  congruing 

The  present  death  of  Hamlet.     Do  it  England, 
For  like  the  Hecticke  8  in  my  blood  he  rages, 
And  thou  must  cure  me :  Till  I  know  'tis  done, 
How  ere  my  happes,9  my  ioyes  were  ne're  begun.10  joyeswiiinere 

Exit11 

274  12 Enter  Fortinbras  with  an  Armie.  with **» A*»v 

otter  the  stage. 

For.  Go  Captaine,  from  me  greet  the  Danish 
King, 
Tell  him  that  by  his  license,  Fortinbras 
78   Claimes  the  conueyance 13  of  a  promis'd  March         Craues  the 
Ouer  his  Kingdome.    You  know  the  Rendeuous  :14 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  191 


1  He  will  not  touch  the  hand  of  his  father's  murderer. 

2  'at  his  heels' 

3  'belongs  to' 

4  '  as  my  great  power  may  give  thee  feeling  of  its  value,  seeing  the 
scar  of  my  vengeance  has  hardly  yet  had  time  to  heal,' 

5  '  and  thy  fear  uncompelled  by  our  presence,  pays  homage  to  us  ;  ' 

6  '  set  down  to  cool ' \  'set  in  the  cold  ' 

7  mandate  :  'Where's  Fulvia's  process?'  Ant.  and  C/.,  act  i.  sc.  1. 
Shakespeare  Lexicon. 

8  hectic  fever — habitual  or  constant  fever 
0  '  whatever  my  fortunes,' 

10  The  original,  the  Quarto  reading — '  my  ioyes  will  nere  begin '  seems 
to  me  in  itself  better,  and  the  cause  of  the  change  to  be  as  follows  : — 

In  the  Quarto  the  next  scene  stands  as  in  our  modern  editions,  ending 
with  the  rime, 

6  from  this  time  forth, 
My  thoughts  be  bloody,  or  be  nothing  worth.  Exit. 

This  was  the  act-pause,  the  natural  end  of  act  iii. 

But  when  the  author  struck  out  all  but  the  commencement  of  the 
scene,  leaving  only  the  three  little  speeches  of  Fortinbras  and  his  captain, 
then  plainly  the  act-pause  must  fall  at  the  end  of  the  preceding  scene. 
He  therefore  altered  the  end  of  the  last  verse  to  make  it  rime  with  the 
foregoing,  in  accordance  with  his  frequent  way  of  using  a  rime  before  an 
important  pause. 

It  perplexes  us  to  think  how  on  his  way  to  the  vessel,  Hamlet  could 
fall  in  with  the  Norwegian  captain.  This  may  have  been  one  of  Shak- 
spere's  reasons  for  striking  the  whole  scene  out— but  he  had  other  and 
more  pregnant  reasons. 

11  Here  is  now  the  proper  close  of  the  Third  Act 

12  Commencement  of  the  Fourth  Act. 

Between  the  third  and  the  fourth  passes  the  time  Hamlet  is  away  ; 
for  the  latter,  in  which  he  returns,  and  whose  scenes  are  contiguous,  needs 
no  more  than  one  day. 

13  '  claims  a  convoy  in  fulfilment  of  the  king's  promise  to  allow  him 
to  march  over  his  kingdom.'  The  meaning  is  made  plainer  by  the  cor- 
respondent passage  in  the  1st  Quarto  : 

Tell  him  that  Fortenbrasse  nephew  to  old  Norway \ 
Craues  a  free  passe  and  conduct  ouer  his  land, 
According  to  the  Articles  agreed  on  : 

14  '  where  to  rejoin  us ' 


1 92         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

If  that  his  Maiesty  would  ought  with  vs, 
We  shall  expresse  our  dutie  in  his  eye,1 
And  let2  him  know  so. 

Cap.  I  will  doo't,  my  Lord. 

For.  Go  safely 3  on.  Exit,  softly 

4  Enter  Queene  and  Horatio.  Enter  Horatio, 

Gertrard,  and 
a  Gentleman. 

Qu.  I  will  not  speake  with  her. 

Hor.b  She  is  importunate,  indeed  distract,  her  Gent. 
moode  will  needs  be  pittied. 
Qu.  What  would  she  haue  ? 

Hor.  She  speakes  much  of  her  Father ;  saies  Gent. 
she  heares 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

Enter  Hamlet,  Rosencraus,  6r*c. 

Ham.  Good  sir  whose  powers  are  these  ? 

Cap.  They  are  of  Norway  sir. 

Ham.  How  purposd  sir  I  pray  you  ? 

Cap.  Against  some  part  of  Poland. 

Ham.  Who  commaunds  them  sir  ? 

Cap.  The  Nephew  to  old  Norway,  Fortenbrasse. 

Ham.  Goes  it  against  the  maine  of  Poland  sir, 
Or  for  some  frontire  ? 

Cap.  Truly  to  speake,  and  with  no  addition,1 
We  goe  to  gaine  a  little  patch  of  ground  2 
That  hath  in  it  no  profit  but  the  name 
To  pay  fiue  duckets,  fiue  I  would  not  farme  it ; 
Nor  wili  it  yeeld  to  Norway  or  the  Pole 
A  rancker  rate,  should  it  be  sold  in  fee. 

Ham.  Why  then  the  Pollacke  neuer  will  defend  it. 

Cap.  Yes,  it  is  already  garisond. 

Ham.  Two  thousand  soules,  and  twenty  thousand 
duckets 
Will  not  debate  the  question  of  this  straw 
This  is  th'Impostume  of  much  wealth  and  peace, 
That  inward  breakes,  and  showes  no  cause  without 
Why  the  man  dies.3     I  humbly  thanke  you  sir. 

Cap.  God  buy  you  sir. 

Ros.  Wil't  please  you  goe  my  Lord  ? 
187,  195  Ham.  lie  be  with  you  straight,  goe  a  little  before.4 

5  How  all  occasions 6  doe  informe  against  me, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  193 

1  '  we  shall  pay  our  respects,  waiting  upon  his  person,' 
8  '  let,'  imperative  mood. 

3  '  with  proper  precaution,'  said  to  his  attendant  officers. 

4  This  was  originally  intended,  I  repeat,  for  the  commencement  of 
the  act.  But  when  the  greater  part  of  the  foregoing  scene  was  omitted, 
and  the  third  act  made  to  end  with  the  scene  before  that,  then  the  small 
part  left  of  the  all-but-cancelled  scene  must  open  the  fourth  act." 

5  Hamlet  absent,  we  find  his  friend  looking  after  Ophelia.  Gertrude 
seems  less  friendly  towards  her. 


exaggeration 

2  —probably  a  small  outlying  island  or  coast-fortress,  not  far  off,  else  why  should  Norway 
care  about  it  at  all?  If  the  word  frontier  has  the  meaning,  as  the  Shakespeare  Lexicon  says,  of 
*  an  outwork  in  fortification,'  its  use  two  lines  back  would,  taken  figuratively,  tend  to  support 
this. 

3  The  meaning  may  be  as  in  the  following  paraphrase  :  '  This  quarrelling  about  nothing  is  (the 
breaking  of)  the  abscess  caused  by  wealth  and  peace  —  which  breaking  inward  (in  general  cor- 
ruption), would  show  no  outward  sore  in  sign  of  why  death  came.'    Or  it  might  be  forced  thus  :— 

This  is  the  imposthume  of  much  wealth  and  peace. 

That  (which)  inward  breaks,  and  shows  no  cause  without — 

Why,  the  man  dies  ! 

But  it  may  mean  : — '  The  war  is  an  imposthume,  which  will  break  within,  and  cause  much 
affliction  to  the  people  that  make  the  war.'  On  the  other  hand,  Hamlet  seems  to  regard  it  as  a 
process  for,  almost  a  sign  of  health. 

4  Note  his  freedom.  G  See  '  examples  grosse  as  earth '  below. 

s  While  every  word  that  Shakspere  wrote  we  may  well  take  pains  to  grasp  thoroughly,  my 
endeavour  to  cast  light  on  this  passage  is  made  with  the  distinct  understanding  in  my  own  mind 
that  the  author  himself  disapproved  of  and  omitted  it,  and  that  good  reason  is  not  wanting  why 
he  should  have  done  so.  At  the  same  time,  if  my  student,  for  this  book  is  for  those  who  would 
have  help  and  will  take  pains  to  the  true  understanding  of  the  play,  would  yet  retain  the 
passage,  I  protest  against  the  acceptance  of  Hamlet's  judgment  of  himself,  except  as  revealing  the 
simplicity  and  humility  of  his  nature  and  character.  That  as  often  as  a  vivid  memory  of  either 
interview  with  the  Ghost  came  back  upon  him,  he  should  feel  rebuked  and  ashamed,  and  vexed 
with  himself,  is,  in  the  morally,  intellectually,  and  emotionally  troubled  state  of  his  mind,  nowise 
the  less  natural  that  he  had  the  best  of  reasons  for  the  delay  because  of  which  he  here  so  un- 
mercifully abuses  himself.  A  man  of  self-satisfied  temperament  would  never  in  similar  circum- 
stances have  done  so.  But  Hamlet  was,  by  nature  and  education,  far  from  such  self-satisfaction  ; 
and  there  is  in  him  besides  such  a  strife  and  turmoil  of  opposing  passions  and  feelings  and  ap- 
parent duties,  as  can  but  rarely  rise  in  a  human  soul.  With  which  he  ought  to  side,  his  conscience 
is  not  sure— sides  therefore  now  with  one,  now  with  another.  At  the  same  time  it  is  by  no 
means  the  long  delay  the  critics  imagine  of  which  he  is  accusing  himself— it  is  only  that  the 
thing  is  not  done. 

In  certain  moods  the  action  a  man  dislikes  will  therefore  look  to  him  the  more  like  a  duty  ; 
and  this  helps  to  prevent  Hamlet  from  knowing  always  how  great  a  part  conscience  bears  in  the 
omission  because  of  which  he  condemns  and  even  contemns  himself.  The  conscience  does  not 
naturally  examine  itself— is  not  necessarily  self-conscious.  In  any  soliloquy,  a  man  must  speak 
from  his  present  mood  :  we  who  are  not  suffering,  and  who  have  many  of  his  moods  before  us, 
ought  to  understand  Hamlet  better  than  he  understands  himself.  To  himself,  sitting  in  judgment 
on  himself,  it  would  hardly  appear  a  decent  cause  of,  not  to  say  reason  for,  a  moment's  delay  in 
punishing  his  uncle,  that  he  was  so  weighed  down  with  misery  because  of  his  mother  and  Ophelia, 
that  it  seemed  of  no  use  to  kill  one  villain  out  of  the  villainous  world  ;  it  would  seem  but  '  bestial 
oblivion'  ;  and,  although  his  reputation  as  a  prince  was  deeply  concerned,  any  reflection  on  the 
consequences  to  himself  would  at  times  appear  but  a  '  craven  scruple '  ;  while  at  times  even  the 
whispers  of  conscience  might  seem  a  '  thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event.'  A  conscientious  man 
of  changeful  mood  will  be  very  ready  in  either  mood  to  condemn  the  other.  The  best  and 
rightest  men  will  sometimes  accuse  themselves  in  a  manner  that  seems  to  those  who  know  them 
best,  unfounded,  unreasonable,  almost  absurd.  We  must  not,  I  say,  take  the  hero's  judgment  of 
himself  as  the  author's  judgment  of  him.  The  two  judgments,  that  of  a  man  upon  himself  from 
within,  and  that  of  his  beholder  upon  him  from  without,  are  not  congeneric.  They  are  different 
in  origin  and  in  kind,  and  cannot  be  adopted  either  of  them  into  the  source  of  the  other  without, 
most  serious  and  dangerous  mistake.  So  adopted,  each  becomes  another  thing  altogether.  It 
is  to  me  probable  that,  although  it  involves  other  unfitnesses,  the  Poet  omitted  the  passage 

o 


io4         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

There's  trickes  i'th  world,  and  hems,  and  beats  her 

heart, 
Spumes  enuiously  at  Strawes,1  speakes  things  in 

doubt,2 
That  carry  but  halfe  sense  :  Her  speech  is  nothing,3 
Yet  the  vnshaped  vse  of  it 4  doth  moue 

The  hearers  to  Collection  B  ;  they  ayme6  at  it,  theyyawneat 

And  botch  the  words7  vp  fit  to  their  owne  thoughts 


And  spur  my  dull  reuenge.     J  What  is  a  man 

If  his  chiefe  good  and  market  of  his  time 

Be  but  to  sleepe  and  feede,  a  beast,  no  more  : 

Sure  he  that  made  vs  with  such  large  discourse  2 

Looking  before  and  after,  gaue  vs  not 

That  capabilitie  and  god-like  reason 

To  fust  in  vs  vnvsd,1  now  whether  it  be 
1 20  Bestiall  obliuion,3  or  some  crauen  scruple 

Of  thinking  too  precisely  on  th'euent,4 

A  thought  which  quarterd  hath  but  one  part  wisedom, 

And  euer  three  parts  coward,  I  doe  not  know 

Why  yet  I  liue  to  say  this  thing's  to  doe, 

Sith  I  haue  cause,  and  will,  and  strength,  and  meanes 

To  doo't  ;5  examples  grosse  as  earth  exhort  me, 

Witnes  this  Army  of  such  masse  and  charge, 
135  Led  by  a  delicate  and  tender  Prince, 

Whose  spirit  with  diuine  ambition  puft, 

Makes  mouthes  at  the  invisible  euent, 
20  Exposing  what  is  mortall,  and  vnsure, 

To  all  that  fortune,  death,  and  danger  dare,6 

Euen  for  an  Egge-shell.     Rightly  to  be  great, 

Is  not  to  stirre  without  great  argument, 

But  greatly  to  find  quarrell  in  a  straw 

When  honour's  at  the  stake,  how  stand  I  then 

That  haue  a  father  kild,  a  mother  staind, 

Excytements  of  my  reason,  and  my  blood, 

And  let  all  sleepe,7  while  to  my  shame  I  see 

The  iminent  death  of  twenty  thousand  men, 

That  for  a  fantasie  and  tricke 8  of  fame 

Goe  to  their  graues  like  beds,  fight  for  a  plot 

Whereon  the  numbers  cannot  try  the  cause,0 

Which  is  not  tombe  enough  and  continent10 

To  hide  the  slaine,11  6  from  this  time  forth, 

My  thoughts  be  bloody,  or  be  nothing  worth.12  Exit. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  195 

1  trifles  2  doubtfully  3  '  there  is  nothing  in  her  speech  ' 

4  '  the  formless  mode  of  it ' 

5  '  to  gathering  things  and  putting  them  together '  6  guess 
7  Ophelia's  words 


chiefly  from  coming  to  see  the  danger  of  its  giving  occasion,  or  at  least  support,  to  an  altogether 
mistaken  and  unjust  idea  of  his  Hamlet. 

1  I  am  in  doubt  whether  this  passage  from  '  What  is  a  man  '  down  to  '  unused,'  does  not  re- 
fer to  the  king,  and  whether  Hamlet  is  not  persuading  himself  that  it  can  be  no  such  objection- 
able thing  to  kill  one  hardly  above  a  beast.  At  all  events  it  is  far  more  applicable  to  the  king  : 
it  was  not  one  of  Hamlet's  faults,  in  any  case,  to  fail  of  using  his  reason.  But  he  may  just  as  well 
accuse  himself  of  that  too  !  At  the  same  time  the  worst  neglect  of  reason  lies  in  not  carrying 
out  its  conclusions,  and  if  we  cannot  justify  Hamlet  in  his  delay,  the  passage  is  of  good  applica- 
tion to  him.  '  Bestiall  oblivion'  does  seem  to  connect  himself  with  the  reflection;  but  how 
thoroughly  is  the  thing  intended  by  such  a  phrase  alien  from  the  character  of  Hamlet  ! 

2  — the  mental  faculty  of  running  hither  and  thither  :  '  We  look  before  and  after.'  Shelley  : 
To  a  Skylark. 

3  — the  forgetfulness  of  srch  a  beast  as  he  has  just  mentioned. 

*  — the  consequences.  The  scruples  that  come  of  thinking  of  the  event,  Hamlet  certainly  had  : 
that  they  were  craven  scruples,  that  his  thinking  was  too  precise,  I  deny  to  the  face  of  the  noble 
self-accuser.  Is  that  a  craven  scruple  which,  seeing  no  good  to  result  from  the  horrid  deed, 
shrinks  from  its  irretrievableness,  and  demands  at  least  absolute  assurance  of  guilt?  or  that  '  a 
thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event,'  to  desire,  as  the  prince  of  his  people,  to  leave  an  unwounded 
name  behind  him  ? 

5  This  passage  is  the  strongest  there  is  on  the  side  of  the  ordinary  misconception  of  the 
character  of  Hamlet.  It  comes  from  himself;  and  it  is  as  ungenerous  as  it  is  common  and  unfair 
to  use  such  a  weapon  against  a  man.  Does  any  but  St.  Paul  himself  say  he  was  the  chief  of 
sinners?  Consider  Hamlet's  condition,  tormented  on  all  sides,  within  and  without,  and  think 
whether  this  outbreak  against  himself  be  not  as  unfair  as  it  is  natural.  Lest  it  should  be  accepted 
against  him,  Shakspere  did  well  to  leave  it  out.  In  bitter  disappointment,  both  because  of  what 
is  and  what  is  not,  both  because  of  what  he  has  done  and  what  he  has  failed  to  do,  having  for  the 
time  lost  all  chance,  with  the  last  vision  of  the  Ghost  still  haunting  his  eyes,  his  last  reproachful 
words  yet  ringing  in  his  ears,  are  we  bound  to  take  his  judgment  of  himself  because  it  is  against 
himself?  Are  we  bound  to  take  any  man's  judgment  because  it  is  against  himself?  I  answer, 
1  No  more  than  if  it  were  for  himself.'  A  good  man's  judgment,  where  he  is  at  all  perplexed, 
especially  if  his  motive  comes  within  his  own  question,  is  ready  to  be  against  himself,  as  a  bad 
man's  is  sure  to  be  for  himself.  Or  because  he  is  a  philosopher,  does  it  follow  that  throughout 
he  understands  himself?  Were  such  a  man  in  cool,  untroubled  conditions,  we  might  feel  compelled 
to  take  his  judgment,  but  surely  not  here  !  A  philosopher  in  such  state  as  Hamlet's  would  under- 
stand the  quality  of  his  spiritual  operations  with  no  more  certainty  than  another  man.  In  his  present 
mood,  Hamlet  forgets  the  cogency  of  the  reasons  that  swayed  him  in  the  other ;  forgets  that  his 
uppermost  feeling  then  was  doubt,  as  horror,  indignation,  and  conviction  are  uppermost  now. 
Things  were  never  so  clear  to  Hamlet  as  to  us. 

But  how  can  he  say  he  has  strength  and  means— in  the  position  in  which  he  now  finds  himself? 
I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  believe,  let  my  defence  of  Hamlet  against  himself  be  right  or  wrong,  that 
Shakspere  intended  the  omission  of  the  passage.  I  lay  nothing  on  the  great  lack  of  logic  through- 
out the  speech,  for  that  would  not  make  it  unfit  for  Hamlet  in  such  mood,  while  it  makes  its  omission 
from  the  play  of  less  consequence  to  my  general  argument. 

6  threaten.  This  supports  my  argument  as  to  the  great  soliloquy— that  it  was  death  as  the 
result  of  his  slaying  the  king,  or  attempting  to  do  so,  not  death  by  suicide,  he  was  thinking  of : 
he  expected  to  die  himself  in  the  punishing  of  his  uncle. 

'  He  had  had  no  chance  but  that  when  the  king  was  on  his  knees. 

8  '  a  fancy  and  illusion  ' 

9  '  which  is  too  small  for  those  engaged  to  find  room  to  fight  on  it,' 

10  'continent,'  containing  space 

11  This  soliloquy  is  antithetic  to  the  other.  Here  is  no  thought  of  the  'something  after  death.' 

12  If,  with  this  speech  in  his  mouth,  Hamlet  goes  coolly  on  board  the  vessel,  not  being  com- 
pelled thereto  (190,  192,  216),  and  possessing  means  to  his  vengeance,  as  here  he  says,  and  goes 
merely  in  order  to  hoist  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne  with  their  own  petard— that  is,  if  we  must 
keep  the  omitted  passages,  then  the  author  exposes  his  hero  to  a  more  depreciatory  judgment  than 
any  from  which  I  would  justify  him,  and  a  conception  of  his  character  entirely  inconsistent 
with  the  rest  of  the  play.  He  did  not  observe  the  risk  at  the  time  he  wrote  the  passage,  but 
discovering  it  afterwards,  rectified  the  oversight  —to  the  dissatisfaction  of  his  critics,  who  have 
agreed  in  restoring  what  he  cancelled. 

O   2 


t96         THE    TRAGEDIE    OP  HAMLET, 

Which  as  her  winkes,  and  nods,  and  gestures  yeeld  ' 

them, 
Indeed   would  make  one  thinke  there  would2  be  there  might1 

be 

thought, 
Though  nothing  sure,  yet  much  vnhappily. 

Qu.  'Twere  good  she  were  spoken  with,3  tfora. 
For  she  may  strew  dangerous  conjectures 

In  ill  breeding  minds.4     Let  her  come  in.  ofheiia 

To  my  sicke  soule  (as  sinnes  true  Nature  is)  Quee.  'Tomys 
Each  toy  seemes  Prologue,  to  some  great  amisse,      ■  Each 

So  full  of  Artlesse  iealousie  is  guilt,  «So 

It  spill's  it  selfe,  in  fearing  to  be  spilt.6  ' II 

Enter  Ophelia  distracted? 

Ophe,  Where    is    the    beauteous    Maiesty    of 
Denmark. 

Qu.  How  now  Ophelia  ?  shee  sings. 

Ophe.  Hozv  should  I  your  true  loue  know  from 
another  one  ? 
By  his  Cockle  hat  and  staffe,  and  his  Sandal  shoone. 
Qu.  Alas    sweet    Lady :     what     imports    this 

Song  ? 
Ophe.  Say  you  ?     Nay  pray  you  marke. 
He  is  dead  and  gone  Lady,  he  is  dead  and  gone, 
At  his  head  a  grasse-greene   Turfe,  at  his  heeles  a 
stone. 

Oho. 

Enter  King. 

Qu.  Nay  but  Ophelia. 
Ophe.  Pray  you  marke. 

White  his  Shrow *d  as  the  Mountaine  Snow.  Enter  King. 
Qu.  Alas  looke  heere  my  Lord. 
246  Ophe.  Larded9,  with  sweet  flowers :  Larded  an  with 

Which  bewept  to  the  graue  did  not  go,  ground  |  song. 

With  true-hue  showres. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  197 

1  '  present  them,' — her  words,  that  is — giving  significance  or  interpre- 
tation to  them. 

2  If  this  would,  and  not  the  might  of.  the.  Quarto,  be  the  correct  read- 
ing, it  means  that  Ophelia  would  have  something  thought  so  and  so. 


s  — changing  her  mind  on   Horatio's   representation.     At    first   she 
would  not  speak  with  her. 

4  '  minds  that  breed  evil.' 


-as  a  quotation. 


6  Instance,  the  history  of  Macbeth. 

7  1st  Q.  Enter  Ofelia  playing  on  a  Licte,  and  her  haire  downe  singing. 
Hamlet's  apparent  madness  would  seem  to  pass  into  real  madness  in 

Ophelia.    King  Lear's  growing  perturbation  becomes  insanity  the  moment 
he  sees  the  pretended  madman  Edgar. 

The  forms  of  Ophelia's  madness  show  it  was  not  her  father's  death 
that  drove  her  mad,  but  his  death  by  the  hand  of  Hamlet,  which,  with 
Hamlet's  banishment,  destroyed  all  the  hope  the  queen  had  been 
fostering  in  her  of  marrying  him  some  day. 


8  This  expression  is,  as  Ur.  Johnson  says,  taken  from  cookery  ;  but 
it  is  so  used  elsewhere  by  Shakspere  that  we  cannot  regard  it  here  as  a 
scintillation  of  Ophelia's  insanity. 


198         THE    TRAGED1E    OF    HAMLET, 

King.  How  do  ye,  pretty  Lady  ?  you 

Op/ie.  Well,    God    dil'd    you.1     They    say    the  gooddiidydo/ 
Owle  was  a  Bakers  daughter.2     Lord,  wee   know 
what  we  are,  but  know  not  what  we  may  be.     God 
be  at  your  Table. 
J74         King.  Conceit3  vpon  her  Father. 

Ophe.  Pray  you  let's  haue  no  words   of  this:   Pray  lets 
but  when  they  aske  you  what  it  meanes,  say  you 
this  : 
4  To  morrow  is  S.  Valentines  day,  all  in  the  morning 

betime, 
And  I  a  Maid  at  your  Window  to  be  your  Valentine. 
Then  vp  he  rose,  and  doridb  his  clothes,  and  dupt 8  the 

chamber  dore, 
Let  in  the  Maid,  that  out  a  Maid,  neuer  departed 
more. 
King.  Pretty  Ophelia. 
Ophe.  Indeed  la?  without  an  oath  He  make  an   indeede 

■*  without 

end  ont.6 

By  gis,  and  by  S.  Charity, 

Alacke,  and  fie  for  shame : 

Youg  men  wil  dodt,  if  they  come  too't, 

By  Cocke  they  are  too  blame. 

Quoth  she  before  you  tumbled  me, 

You  promised  me  to  Wed : 

So  would  I  ha  done  by  yonder  Sunne,  (He  answers.) 

So  would 

A  nd  thou  hadst  not  come  to  my  bed. 

King.  How  long-  hath  she  bin  this  ?  beenethus? 

Ophe.  I  hope  all  will  be  well.  We  must  bee 
patient,  but  I  cannot  choose  but  weepe,  to  thinke 
they  should  lay  him  i'th'cold  ground  :  My  brother  thev  would 
shall  knowe  of  it,  and  so  I  thanke  you  for  your 
good  counsell.  Come,  my  Coach :  Goodnight 
Ladies :  Goodnight  sweet  Ladies :  Goodnight, 
goodnight.  Exit? 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE. 


199 


1  ist  Q.  *  God  yeeld  you,'  that  is,  reward  you.      Here  we  have   a 
blunder  for  the  contraction,  '  God  'ild  you ' — perhaps  a  common  blunder. 

2  For  the  silly  legend,  see  Douce's  note  in  Johnson  and  Steevens. 


imaginative  brooding 


4  We  dare  no  judgment  on  madness  in  life  :  we  need  not  in  art. 


Preterites  of  don  and  dup>  contracted  from  do  on  and  do  up. 


6  — disclaiming  false  modesty. 


1  Not  in  Q 


200        THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

King.  Follow  her  close, 
Giue  her  good  watch  I  pray  you  : 
Oh  this  is  the  poyson  of  deepe  greefe,  it  springs 
All  from  her  Fathers  death.     Oh  Gertrude,  Ger-  death, ami  now 

behold,  6  tier 
trilde,  trard,  Ger- 

'  trard, 

When  sorrowes  comes,  they  come  not  single  spies,1  son-owes  come 
But  in  Battaliaes.     First,  her  Father  slaine,  battaiians: 

Next    your    Sonne    gone,  and    he    most  violent 

Author  . 
Of  his  owne  iust  remoue  :  the  people  muddied,2 
Thicke   and    vnwholsome   in  their    thoughts,  and  in  thoughts 

whispers 
For  3  good  Polonius  death  ;  and  we  haue  done  but 

greenly 
182   In  hugger  mugger4  to  interre  him.     Poore  Ophelia 
Diuided  from  her  selfe,5  and  her  faire  Iudgement, 
Without  the  which  we  are  Pictures,  or  meere  Beasts. 
Last,  and  as  much  containing  as  all  these, 
Her  Brother  is  in  secret  come  from  France, 
Keepes  on  his  wonder,6  keepes  himselfe  in  clouds,     Feeds  on  this' 
And  wants  not  Buzzers  to  infect  his  eare  care 

With  pestilent  Speeches  of  his  Fathers  death, 
Where  in  necessitie  of  matter  Beggard,  wherein 

00  necessity 

Will  nothing  sticke  our  persons  to  Arraigne  person 

In  eare  and  eare.7     O  my  deere  Gertrude,  this, 
Like  to  a  murdering  Peece 8  in  many  places, 
Giues  me  superfluous  death.  A  Noise  zvitkin. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Qu.  Alacke,  what  noyse  is  this  ?  ° 

King.  Where  are  my  Switzers  ?  10  King.  Attend, 

where  is  my 

Let  them  guard  the  doore.     What  is  the  matter  ?      Swissers, 
Mes.  Saue  your  selfe,  my  Lord. 
120  The  Ocean  (ouer-peering  of  his  List11) 

Eates  not  the  Flats  with  more  impittious  12  haste 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE, 


-each  alone,  like  scouts, 


1  stirred  up  like  pools — with  similar  result 


3  because  of 


4  The  king  wished  to  avoid  giving  the  people  any  pretext  or  cause  lor 
interfering  :  he  dreaded  whatever  might  lead  to  enquiry — to  the  queen 
of  course  pretending  it  was  to  avoid  exposing  Hamlet  to  the  popular 
indignation.    Hugger  mugger — secretly  :  Steevens  and  Malone. 

5  The  phrase  has  the  same  visual  root  as  beside  herself— -both  signi- 
fying '  not  at  one  with  herself.' 

6  If  the  Quarto  reading  is  right,  '  this  wonder '  means  the  hurried  and 
suspicious  funeral  of  his  father.  But  the  Folio  reading  is  quite  Shak- 
sperean  :  'He  keeps  on  (as  a  garment)  the  wonder  of  the  people  at 
him ' ;  keeps  his  behaviour  such  that  the  people  go  on  wondering  about 
him  :  the  phrase  is  explained  by  the  next  clause.     Compare  : 

By  being  seldom  seen,  I  could  not  stir 
But,  like  a  comet,  I  was  wondered  at. 

K.  Henry  IV.  P.  I.  act  iii.  sc.  i. 

7  'wherein  Necessity,  beggared  of  material,  will  not  scruple  to 
whisper  invented  accusations  against  us.' 

8  — the  name  given  to  a  certain  small  cannon — perhaps  charged  with 
various  missiles,  hence  the  better  figuring  the  number  and  variety  of 
'  sorrows '  he  has  just  recounted. 

9  This  line  not  in  Q. 

10  Note  that  the  king  is  well  guarded,  and  Hamlet  had  to  lay  his 
account  with  great  risk  in  the  act  of  killing  him. 

t11  border,  as  of  cloth  :  the  mounds  thrown  up  to  keep  the  sea  out. 
The  figure  here  specially  fits  a  Dane. 
12  I  do  not  know  whether  this  word  means  pitiless,  or  stands  for  im- 
petuous.    The  Quarto  has  one  /. 


202         THE    TRAGED1E    OF   HAMLET, 

Then  young  Laertes,  in  a  Riotous  head,1 
Ore-beares    your    Officers,    the    rabble    call    him 

Lord, 
And  as  the  world  were  now  but  to  begin, 
Antiquity  forgot,  Custome  not  knowne, 
The  Ratifiers  and  props  of  euery  word,2 
62  They  cry  choose  we  ?  Laertes  shall  be  King,3  The  cry 

Caps,  hands,  and  tongues,  applaud  it  to  the  clouds, 
Laertes  shall  be  King,  Laertes  King. 

Qn.  How  cheerefully  on  the  false  Traile  they  Anoisezvithin. 

cry, 
Oh  this  is  Counter  you  false  Danish  Dogges.4 

Noise  within.       Enter  Laertes!*  Laertes  with 

others. 

King.  The  doores  are  broke. 

Laer.  Where  is  the  King,  sirs?     Stand  you  all   this  King?  sirs 

stand 

without. 

All.  No,  let's  come  in. 

Laer.  I  pray  you  giue  me  leaue.6 

Al.  We  will,  we  will. 

Laer.  I  thanke  you  :  Keepe  the  doore. 
Oh  thou  vilde  King,  giue  me  my  Father. 

Qu.  Calmely  good  Laertes. 

Laer.  That  drop  of  blood,  that  calmes  7  that*  caime 

Proclaimes  me  Bastard  : 

Cries  Cuckold  to  my  Father,  brands  the  Harlot 
Euen  heere  betweene  the  chaste  vnsmirched  brow 
Of  my  true  Mother.8 

Kin.  What  is  the  cause  Laertes, 
That  thy  Rebellion  lookes  so  Gyant-like  ? 
Let  him  go    Gertrude :    Do    not  feare 9  our   per- 
son : 
There's  such  Diuinity  doth  hedge  a  King,10 
That  Treason  can  but  peepe  to  what  it  would, 
Acts  little  of  his  will.11     Tell  me  Laertes, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  203 

1  Head  is  a  rising  or  gathering  of  people — generally  rebellious,   I 
think. 


2  Antiquity  and  Custom. 

8  This  refers  to  the  election  of  Claudius — evidently  not  a  popular 
election,  but  effected  by  intrigue  with  the  aristocracy  and  the  army  : 
1  They  cry,  Let  us  choose  :  Laertes  shall  be  king  !' 

We  may  suppose  the  attempt  of  Claudius  to  have  been  favoured  by 
the  lingering  influence  of  the  old  Norse  custom  of  succession,  by  which 
not  the  son  but  the  brother  inherited.    16,  bis. 

4  To  hunt  counter  is  to 'hunt  the  game  by  the  heel  or  track.'  The 
queen  therefore  accuses  them  of  not  using  their  scent  or  judgment,  but 
following  appearances. 

5  Now  at  length  re-appears  Laertes,  who  has  during  the  interim  been 
ripening  in  Paris  for  villainy.  He  is  wanted  for  the  catastrophe,  and 
requires  but  the  last  process  of  a  few  hours  in  the  hell-oven  of  a  king's 
instigation. 


6  The  customary  and  polite  way  of  saying  leave  me  :  '  grant  me  your 
absence.'     85,  89 


grows  calm 


8  In  taking  vengeance  Hamlet  must  acknowledge  his  mother  such  as 
.aertes  says  inaction  on  his  part  would  proclaim  his  mother. 

The  actress  should  here  let  a  shadow  cross  the  queen's  face  :  though 
too  weak  to  break  with  the  king,  she  has  begun  to  repent. 

9  fear  for 

10  The  consummate  hypocrite  claims  the  protection  of  the  sacred  hedge 
through  which  he  had  himself  broken — or  crept  rather,  like  a  snake,  to  kill. 
He  can  act  innocence  the  better  that  his  conscience  is  clear  as  to  Polonius. 

1  '  can  only  peep  through  the  hedge  to  its  desire— acts  little  of  its 
'ill.' 


2o4         THE    TRACED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Why  thou  art  thus  Incenst?    Let  him  go  Gertrude. 
Speake  man. 

Laer.  Where's  my  Father  ?  is  my 

King.  Dead. 

Qu.  But  not  by  him. 

King.  Let  him  demand  his  fill. 
Laer.  How  came  he  dead  ?      He  not  be  Iuggel'd 
with. 
To  hell  Allegeance  :  Vowes,  to  the  blackest  diuell. 
Conscience  and  Grace,  to  the  profoundest  Pit. 
I  dare  Damnation  :  to  this  point  I  stand, 
That  both  the  worlds  I  giue  to  negligence, 
Let  come  what  comes  :  onely  He  be  reueng'd 
Most  throughly  for  my  Father. 

King.  Who  shall  stay  you  ?  1 

Laer.  My  Will,  not  all  the  world,1  worlds: 

And  for  my  meanes,  He  husband  them  so  well, 
They  shall  go  farre  with  little. 

King.  Good  Laertes  : 
If  you  desire  to  know  the  certaintie 
Of  your  deere   Fathers  death,  if  writ  in  your  re-  Father,  i'st 

writ 

uenge, 
That  Soop-stake 2  you  will  draw  both  Friend  and 

Foe, 
Winner  and  Looser.3 

Laer.  None  but  his  Enemies. 

King.  Will  you  know  them  then. 
La.  To  his  good  Friends,  thus  wide  He  ope  my  Armes : 
And  like  the  kinde  Life-rend'ring  Politician,4  Ufe-rendrwi 

Repast  them  with  my  blood.5 

King.  Why  now  you  speake 
Like  a  good  Childe,6  and  a  true  Gentleman. 
That  I  am  guiltlesse  of  your  Fathers  death, 
And  am  most  sensible  in  greefe  for  it,7  sendbiy 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  205 

1  '  Who  shall  preve?it  you  ? ' 
1  My  own  will  only — not  all  the  world,' 
or, 

1  Who  will  support  you  ? ' 

1  My  will.     Not  all  the  world  shall  prevent  me,' — 
so  playing  on  the  two  meanings  of  the  word  stay. 

Or  it  might  mean  :  '  Not  all  the  world  shall  stay  my  will.' 

2  swoop-stake — sweepstakes 

3  'and  be  loser  as  well  as  winner '  If  the  Folic?  s  is  the  right  read- 
ing, then  the  sentence  is  unfinished,  and  should  have  a  dash,  not  a  period. 

4  A  curious  misprint  :  may  we  not  suspect  a  somewhat  dull  joker 
among  the  compositors  ?  6  '  a  true  son  to  your  father,' 

7  '  feel  much  grief  for  it,' 

5  Laertes  is  a  ranter — false  everywhere. 

Plainly  he  is  introduced  as  the  foil  from  which  Hamlet  (  shall  stick 
fiery  off.'  In  this  speech  he  shows  his  moral  condition  directly  the 
opposite  of  Hamlet's  :  he  has  no  principle  but  revenge.  His  conduct 
ought  to  be  quite  satisfactory  to  Hamlet's  critics  ;  there  is  action  enough 
in  it  of  the  very  kind  they  would  have  of  Hamlet ;  and  doubtless  it  would 
be  satisfactory  to  them  but  for  the  treachery  that  follows.  The  one, 
dearly  loving  a  father  who  deserves  immeasurably  better  of  him  than 
Polonius  of  Laertes,  will  not  for  the  sake  of  revenge  disregard  either 
conscience,  justice,  or  grace  ;  the  other  will  not  delay  even  to  inquire  into 
the  facts  of  his  father's  fate,  but  will  act  at  once  on  hearsay,  rushing  to  a 
blind  satisfaction  that  cannot  even  be  called  retaliation,  caring  for  neither 
right  nor  wrong,  cursing  conscience  and  the  will  of  God,  and  daring 
damnation.  He  slights  assurance  as  to  the  hand  by  which  his  father 
fell,  dismisses  all  reflection  that  might  interfere  with  a  stupid  revenge. 
To  make  up  one's  mind  at  once,  and  act  without  ground,  is  weakness, 
not  strength  :  this  Laertes  does — and  is  therefore  just  the  man  to  be  the 
villainous,  not  the  innocent,  tool  of  villainy.  He  who  has  sufficing  ground 
and  refuses  to  act  is  weak ;  but  the  ground  that  will  satisfy  the  populace, 
of  which  the  commonplace  critic  is  the  fair  type,  will  not  satisfy  either 
the  man  of  conscience  or  of  wisdom.  The  mass  of  world-bepraised  action 
owes  its  existence  to  the  pressure  of  circumstance,  not  to  the  will  and  con- 
science of  the  man.  Hamlet  waits  for  light,  even  with  his  heart  accusing 
him  ;  Laertes  rushes  into  the  dark,  dagger  in  hand,  like  a  mad  Malay  : 
so  he  kill,  he  cares  not  whom.  Such  a  man  is  easily  tempted  to  the 
vilest  treachery,  for  the  light  that  is  in  him  is  darkness  ;  he  is  not  a 
true  man  ;  he  is  false  in  himself.  This  is  what  comes  of  his  father's 
maxim  : 

To  thine  own  self  be  true  ; 

And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day  (!) 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

Like  the  aphorism  '  Honesty  is  the  best  policy,'  it  reveals  the  difference 
between  a  fact  and  a  truth.  Both  sayings  are  correct  as  facts,  but  as 
guides  of  conduct  devilishly  false,  leading  to  dishonesty  and  treachery. 
To  be  true  to  the  divine  self  in  us.  is  indeed  to  be  true  to  all ;  but  it  is 
only  by  being  true  to  all,  against  the  ever  present  and  urging  false  self, 


206         THE    TRACE  DTE    ()/<    HAM  LET, 

184  It  shall  as  leuell  to  your  Iudgement  pierce  peare1 

As  day  do's  to  your  eye.1 

A  noise  zvithin.      2  Let  her  come  in. 

Enter  Ophelia* 

Laer.  How  now?  what  noise  is  that  ?4  Laer.  Let  her 

come  in. 

Oh  heate  drie  vp  my  Braines,  teares  seuen  times      How  now, 

salt, 
Burne  out  the  Sence  and  Vertue  of  mine  eye. 
By  Heauen,  thy  madnesse  shall  be  payed  by  waight,  with  weight 
Till  our  Scale  turnes  the  beame.     Oh  Rose  of  May,  tume 
Deere  Maid,  kinde  Sister,  sweet  Ophelia  : 
Oh  Heauens,  is't  possible,  a  yong  Maids  wits, 
Should  be  as  mortall  as  an  old  mans  life?5  apooremans 

Nature  is  fine 6  in  Loue,  and  where  'tis  fine, 
It  sends  some  precious  instance  of  it  selfe 
After  the  thing  it  loues.7 

OpJie.     They  bore  him  bare  fad d  on  the  Beer,  £*«*. 

Hey  non  nony,  nony,  hey  nony : 8 

And  on  his  graue  raines  many  a  teare,  Ana  in  his 

graue  rain'd 

Fare  you  well  my  Doue. 
Laer.  Had'st  thou  thy  wits,  and  did'st  perswade 
Reuenge,  it  could  not  moue  thus. 

Ophe.  You    must    sing   downe    a-downe,    and  singadownea 

downe,  And 

you  call  him 9  a-downe-a.  Oh,  how  the  wheele  10 
becomes  it  ?  It  is  the  false  Steward  that  stole  his 
masters  daughter.11 

Laer.  This  nothings  more  then  matter.12 

Ophe.  There's  Rosemary,13   that's  for  Remem- 
braunce.       Pray    loue    remember  :    and    there    is  >  pray  you  loue 
Paconcies,  that's  for  Thoughts.  Fancies'* 

Laer.  A  document 15  in  madnesse,  thoughts  and 
remembrance  fitted. 

Ophe.  There's  Fennell  16  for   you,  and   Colum- 
bines ,n :  ther's  Rew  17  for  you,  and  heere's  some  for 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  207 

that  at  length  we  shall  see  the  divine  self  rise  above  the  chaotic  waters 
of  our  selfishness,  and  know  it  so  as  to  be  true  to  it. 

Of  Laertes  we  must  note  also  that  it  is  not  all  for  love  of  his  father 
that  he  is  ready  to  cast  allegiance  to  hell,  and  kill  the  king  :  he  has  the 
voice  of  the  people  to  succeed  him. 

1  '  pierce  as  directly  to  your  judgment ' 

But  the  simile  of  the  day  seems  to  favour  the  reading  of  the  Q. — 'peare,' 
for  appear.     In  the  word  level  would  then  be  indicated  the  rising  sun. 

2  Not  in  Q.  3  1  st  Q.  '  Enter  Ofelia  as  before? 

4  To  render  it  credible  that  Laertes  could  entertain  the  vile  proposal 
the  king  is  about  to  make,  it  is  needful  that  all  possible  influences  should 
be  represented  as  combining  to  swell  the  commotion  of  his  spirit,  and 
overwhelm  what  poor  judgment  and  yet  poorer  conscience  he  had. 
Altogether  unprepared,  he  learns  Ophelia's  pitiful  condition  by  the  sud- 
den sight  of  the  narrowing  change  in  her — and  not  till  after  that  hears 
who  killed  his  father  and  brought  madness  on  his  sister. 

5  1st  Q.  I'st  possible  a  yong  maides  life, 

Should  be  as  mortall  as  an  olde  mans  sawe  ? 

6  delicate,  exquisite 

7  '  where  'tis  fine '  :  I  suggest  that  the  it  here  may  be  impersonal : 
{ where  things,  where  all  is  fine,'  that  is,  '  in  a  fine  soul ' ;  then  the  mean- 
ing would  be,  '  Nature  is  fine  always  in  love,  and  where  the  soul  also  is 
fine,  she  sends  from  it '  &c.  But  the  where  may  be  equal,  perhaps,  to 
whereas.  I  can  hardly  think  the  phrase  means  merely  '  and  where  it  is 
in  love?  It  might  intend — '  and  where  Love  is  fine,  it  sends  '  &c.  The 
'precious  instance  of  itself,'  that  is,  'something  that  is  a  part  and 
specimen  of  itself,'  is  here  the  '  young  maid's  wits  ' :  they  are  sent  after 
the  '  old  man's  life.' — These  three  lines  are  not  in  the  Quarto.  It  is  not 
disputed  that  they  are  from  Shakspere's  hand:  if  the  insertion  of  these 
be  his,  why  should  the  omission  of  others  not  be  his  also  ? 

8  This  line  is  not  in  Q. 

9  '  if  you  call  him ' :  I  think  this  is  not  a  part  of  the  song,  but  is 
spoken  of  her  father. 

10  the  burden  of  the  song :  Steevens. 

11  The  subject  of  the  ballad. 

12  '  more  than  sense ' — in  incitation  to  revenge. 

13 — an  evergreen,  and  carried  at  funerals  :  Johnson. 
•     For  you  there's  rosemary  and  rue  ;  these  keep 
Seeming  and  savour  all  the  winter  long  : 
Grace  and  remembrance  be  to  you  both, 

The  Winter  s  Tale,  act  iv.  sc.  3. 
14  pense'es 

16  a  teaching,  a  lesson — the  fitting  of  thoughts  and  remembrance,  namely 
— which  he  applies  to  his  intent  of  revenge.  Or  may  it  not  rather  be 
meant  that  the  putting  of  these  two  flowers  together  was  a  happy  hit  of 
her  madness,  presenting  the  fantastic  emblem  of  a  document  or  writing 
— the  very  idea  of  which  is  the  keeping  of  thoughts  in  remembrance  ? 

16  — said  to  mean  flattery  and  thanklessness — perhaps  given  to  the  king. 

17  Repentance — given  to  the  queen.  Another  name  of  the  plant  was 
Herb-Grace,  as  below,  in  allusion,  doubtless,  to  its  common  name — rue  or 
repentance  being  both  the  gift  of  God,  and  an  act  of  grace. 


2o8         THE    TRACE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

me.     Wee    may  call  it  Herbe-Grace  a  Sundaies :  he.be  of  c.rare 

,-ni  -r»  •    1  ^•rr  a  Sondaics, y.>u 

Oh  you  must  weare  your  Kew  with  a  difference,    mayweare 

There's  a  Daysie,2  I  would  giue  you  some  Violets,3 

but  they  wither'd  all  when  my  Father  dyed  :  They 

say,  he  made  a  good  end  ;  say  a  made 

For  bonny  szveet  Robin  is  all  my  ioy. 
Laer.  Thought,  and  Afflliction,  Passion,  Hell' it  afflictions, 
selfe : 
She  turnes  to  Fauour,  and  to  prettinesse. 

Ophe.     And  will  he  not  come  againe,  wuu  not 

And  will  he  not  come  againe  ;  wjh  a  not 

No,  no,  he  is  dead,  go  to  thy  Death-bed, 

He  neuer  wil  come  againe. 

His  Beard  as  white  as  Snozv,  beard  was  as 

All*  Flaxen  was  his  Pole  : 

He  is  gone,  he  is  gone,  and  we  cast  away  mone, 

Gramercy 5  on  his  Soule.  God  a  mercy 

on 

And  of  all  Christian  Soules,  I  pray  God.6  christians 

soules, 

God  buy  ye.7  Exeunt  Ophelia 8  you. 

Laer.   Do  you  see  this,  you  Gods  ?  Doe  you  this 

King.  Laertes,    I    must    common 9    with    your 
greefe, 

Or  you  deny  me  right :  go  but  apart, 

Make  choice  of  whom  your  wisest  Friends  you  will, 

And  they  shall  heare  and  iudge  'twixt  you  and  me  ; 

If  by  direct  or  by  Colaterall  hand 

They  finde  vs  touch'd,10  we  will  our  Kingdome  giue, 

Our  Crowne,  our  Life,  and  all  that  we  call  Ours 

To  you  in  satisfaction.     But  if  not, 

Be  you  content  to  lend  your  patience  to  vs,11 

And  we  shall  ioyntly  labour  with  your  soule 

To  giue  it  due  content. 
Laer.  Let  this  be  so  : ,2 

His  meanes  of  death,13  his  obscure  buriall  ; 

No  Trophee,  Sword,  nor  Hatchment  o're  his  bones,14 


6  God. 
commune 


funerall, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


209 


1  —perhaps  the  heraldic  term.  The  Poet,  not  Ophelia,  intends  the 
special  fitness  of  the  speech.  Ophelia  means  only  that  the  rue  of  the 
matron  must  differ  from  the  rue  of  the  girl. 

2  'the  dissembling  daisy  ' :  Greene—  quoted  by  Henley. 

3  — standing  for  faithfulness  :  M alone,  from  an  old  song. 


AW  not  in  Q. 


5  Wherever  else  Shakspere  uses  the  word,  it  is  in  the  sense  of  grand 
merci— great  thanks  (Sheafs  Etym.  Diet.) ;  here  it  is  surely  a  corruption, 
whether  Ophelia's  or  the  printer's,  of  the  Quarto  reading, '  God  a  7nercyJ 
which,  spoken  quickly,  sounds  very  near  gramercy.  The  1  st  Quarto  also 
has  '  God  a  mercy.' 

6  '  I  pray  God.'  not  in  Q. 

7  *  God  b'  wi'  ye ' :  good  bye. 

8  Not  in  Q. 

9  '  I  must  have  a  share  in  your  grief.'  The  word  does  mgan  com- 
mune, but  here  is  more  pregnant,  as  evidenced  in  the  next.$t!rase,  'Or 
you  deny  me  right  : ' — '  do  not  give  me  justice.'  --.  . 


10  '  touched  with  the  guilt  of  the  deed,  either  as  having  done  it  with 
our  own  hand,  or  caused  it  to  be  done  by  the  hand  of  one  at  our  side,' 

11  We  may  paraphrase  thus  :  '  Be  pleased  to  grant  us  a  loan  of  your 
patience,'  that  is,  be  patient  for  a  while  at  our  request,  '  and  we  will 
work  along  with  your  soul  to  gain  for  it  (your  soul)  just  satisfaction.' 

12  He  consents — but  immediately  re-sums  the  grounds  of  his  wrathful 
suspicion. 

13  — the  way  in  which  he  met  his  death 

14  — customary  honours  to  the  noble  dead.  A  trophy  was  an  arrange- 
ment of  the  armour  and  arms  of  the  dead  in  a  set  decoration.  The 
origin  of  the  word  hatchment  shows  its  intent  :  it  is  a  corruption  of 
achievement. 


Horatio  and 
others. 


Cent.  Sea- 
faring men  sir, 


210         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

No  Noble  rite,  nor  formall  ostentation,1 

Cry  to  be  heard,  as  'twere  from  Heauen  to  Earth, 

That  I  must  call  in  question.2  can't  in 

King.  So  you  shall  : 
And  where  th'ofTence  is,  let  the  great  Axe  fall. 
I  pray  you  go  with  me.3  Exeunt 

Enter  Horatio,  zvith  an  Attendant. 

Hora.  What  are  they  that  would  speake  with 
me? 

Ser.  Saylors  sir,  they  say    they   haue  Letters 
for  you. 

Hor.  Let  them  come  in,4 
I  do  not  know  from  what  part  of  the  world 
I  should  be  greeted,  if  not  from  Lord  Hamlet. 

Enter  Say  lor.  sayiers. 

Say.  God  blesse  you  Sir. 

Hor.  Let  him  blesse  thee  too. 

Say.  Hee  shall  Sir,  and't5  please  him.     There's  A£,sirand 
a  Letter  for  you   Sir:  It  comes  from  th'Ambas-  it  came  froth* 

r        t«  Embassador 

sadours  that  was  bound  for  England,  if  your  name 
be  Horatio,  as  I  am  let  to  know 6  it  is. 
Reads  the  Letter? 
Horatio,  When  thou  shalt  haue  ouerlook'd  this,  Hor.  iiorath 
giae  these  Fellowes  some  meanes  to  the  King:     They 
haue  Letters  for  him.     Ere  we  were  two  dayes 8  old 
at  Sea,  a  Pyrate  of  very  Warlicke  appointment  gaue 
vs  Chace.     Finding  our  seines  too  slow  of  Saile,  we 
put  on  a  compelled  Valour.    Ln  the  Grapple,  L  boorded  valour,  and  in 

the 

them  :  On  the  instant  they  got  cleare  of  our  Shippe, 

so  L  alone,  became  their  Prisoner?     They  haue  dealt 

with  mee,  like  Theeues  of  Mercy,  but  they  knew  what 

they  did.     I  am  to  doe  a  good  turne  for  them.     L^et  a  tame 

the  King  have  the  Letters  L  haue  sent,  and  repaire 

thou  to  me  with  as  much  hast  as  thou  -wouldest  flye  much  speeder 

death.™     L  haue  words  to  speake  in  your  eare,  will  in  thine  eare 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  211 

1  '  formal  ostentation  ' — show  or  publication  of  honour  according  to 
form  or  rule 

2  '  so    that  I    must  call-in  question ' — institute  inquiry  ;    or  '  — that 
(these  things)  I  must  call  in  question.' 


3  Note  such  a  half  line  frequently  after  the  not  uncommon  closing 
couplet — as  if  to  take  off  the  formality  of  the  couplet,  and  lead  back, 
through  the  more  speech-like,  to  greater  verisimilitude. 


4   Here  the  servant  goes,  and  the  rest  of  the  speech  Horatio  speaks 
solus.     He  had  expected  to  hear  from  Hamlet. 


5  '  and  it  please  ' — if  it  please.     An  for  if  is  merely  and. 
•  *  I  am  told  ' 

7  Not  in  Q. 

8  This  gives  an  approximate  clue  to  the  time  between  the  second  and 
third  acts  :  it  needs  not  have  been  a  week. 

9  Note  once  more  the  unfailing  readiness  of  Hamlet  where  there  was 
no  question  as  to  the  fitness  of  the  action  seemingly  required.  This  is 
the  man  who  by  too  much  thinking,  forsooth,  has  rendered  himself  in- 
capable of  action  ! — so  far  ahead  of  the  foremost  behind  him,  that,  when 
the  pirate,  not  liking  such  close  quarters,  ;  on  the  instant  got  clear,'  he 
is  the  only  one  on  her  deck  !  There  was  no  question  here  as  to  what 
ought  to  be  done  :  the  pirate  grappled  them  ;  he  boarded  her.  There- 
after, w^th  his  prompt  faculty  for  dealing  with  men,  he  soon  comes  to  an 
understanding  with  his  captors,  and  they  agree,  upon  some  certain  con- 
dition, to  put  him  on  shore. 

He  writes  in  unusual  spirits ;  for  he  has  now  gained  full,  presentable, 
and  indisputable  proof  of  the  treachery  which  before  he  scarcely  doubted, 
but  could  not  demonstrate.  The  present  instance  of  it  has  to  do  with 
himself,  not  his  father,  but  in  itself  would  justify  the  slaying  of  his  uncle, 
whose  plausible  way  had  possibly  perplexed  him  so  that  he  could  not 
thoroughly  believe  him  the  villain  he  was  :  bad  as  he  must  be,  could  he 
actually  have  killed  his  own  brother,  and  such  a  brother?  A  better  man 
than  Laertes  might  have  acted  more  promptly  than  Hamlet,  and  so  hap- 
pened to  do  right ;  but  he  would  not  have  been  right,  for  the  proof  was 
not  sufficient. 

10  The  value  Hamlet  sets  on  his  discovery,  evident  in  his  joyous 
urgency  to  share  it  with  his  friend,  is  explicable  only  on  the  ground  of  the 
relief  it  is  to  his  mind  to  be  now  at  length  quite  certain  of  his  duty. 

p  2 


212         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

make  thee  dnmbe,  yet  are  they  much  too  light  for  the 
bore  of  the  Matter}     These  good  Fellowes  will  bring  thebord  of 
thee  where  I  am.     Rosincrance  and  Guildcnsterne, 
hold  their  course  for  E?igland.     Of  them  I  haue 
much  to  tell  thee,  Farewell. 

He  that  thou  knowest  thine.       s°  that  thou 

knnwest  thine 

Hamlet  HamleL 

Come,  I  will  giue  you  way  for  these  your  Letters,     Hor.  come  i 

will  you  way 

And  do't  the  speedier,  that  you  may  direct  me 
To  him  from  whom  you  brought  them.  Exit.  Exeunt. 

Enter  King  and  Laertes? 

ICing.  Now  must  your  conscience  my  acquit- 
tance seal, 
And  you  must  put  me  in  your  heart  for  Friend, 
Sith  you  haue  heard,  and  with  a  knowing  eare,3 
That  he  which  hath  your  Noble  Father  slaine, 
Pursued  my  life.4 

Eaer.  It  well  appeares.     But  tell  me, 
Why  you  proceeded  not  against  these  feates,5  proceede 

So  crimefull,  and  so  Capitall  in  Nature,6  criminal! 

As  by  your  Safety,  Wisedome,  all  things  else,  safetie,  great- 

nes,  wisdome, 

You  mainly7  were  stirr'd  vp  ? 

King.  O  for  two  special  1  Reasons, 
Which   may   to   you    (perhaps)    seeme    much  vn- 

sinnowed,8 
And  yet  to  me  they  are  strong.     The  Queen  his  But  yet  |  tha't 

strong 

Mother, 
Liues  almost  by  his  lookes  :  and  for  my  selfe, 
My  Vertue  or  my  Plague,  be  it  either  which,9 
She's  so  coniunctiue  to  my  life  and  soule ;  sheissocon- 

cliue 

That  as  the  Starre  moues  not  but  in  his  Sphere,10 
I  could  not  but  by  her.     The  other  Motiue, 
Why  to  a  publike  count  I  might  not  go, 
i85   Is  the  great  loue  the  generall  gender11  beare  him, 
Who  dipping  all  his  Faults  in  their  affection, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  213 


1  Note  here  also  Hamlet's  feeling  of  the  importance  of  what  has 
passed  since  he  parted  with  his  friend.  '  The  bullet  of  my  words,  though 
it  will  strike  thee  dumb,  is  much  too  small  for  the  bore  of  the  reality 
(the  facts)  whence  it  will  issue.' 


2  While  we  have  been  present  at  the  interview  between  Horatio  and 
the  sailors,  the  king  has  been  persuading  Laertes. 


3  an  ear  of  judgment, 

4  '  thought  then  to  have  killed  me.' 


5  faits,  deeds 

6  '  deeds  so  deserving  of  death,  not  merely  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  but 
in  their  own  nature  ' 


powerfully 


unsinewed 


9  '  either-which 


10  '  moves  not  but  in  the  moving  of  his  sphere,' — The  stars  were 
popularly  supposed  to  be  fixed  in  a  solid  crystalline  sphere,  and  moved  in 
its  motion  only.  The  queen,  Claudius  implies,  is  his  sphere ;  he  could 
not  move  but  by  her. 

11  Here  used  in  the  sense  of  the  Fr.  ' genre '' — sort.  It  is  not  the  only 
instance  of  the  word  so  used  by  Shakspere. 

The  king  would  rouse  in  Laertes  jealousy  of  Hamlet. 


2i4         THE    TA  AGE  DIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Would  like  the  Spring  that  turneth  Wood  to  Stone,  workeiik* 

Conuert  his  Gyues  to  Graces.1  So  that  my  Arrowcs 

Too  slightly  timbred  for  so  loud  a  Winde,  Am/d?1"- 

Would  haue  reuerted  to  my  Bow  againe, 

And  not  where  I  had  arm'd  them.2  But™1.  ,avc 

aym  u  them. 

Laer.  And  so  haue  I  a  Noble  Father  lost, 
A  Sister  driuen  into  desperate  tearmes,3 

Who  was  (if  praises  may  go  backe  againe)  whose  worth, 

Stood  Challenger  on  mount  of  all  the  Age 
For  her  perfections.     But  my  reuenge  will  come. 

King.  Breake  not  your  sleepes  for  that, 
You  must  not  thinke 

That  we  are  made  of  stuffe,  so  flat,  and  dull, 
That  we  can  let  our  Beard  be  shooke  with  danger,4 
And   thinke  it  pastime.     You  shortly  shall  heare 

more,5 
I  lou'd  your  Father,  and  we  loue  our  Selfe, 
And  that  I  hope  will  teach  you  to  imagine G 

Enter  a  Messenger.  wuh  letters. 

How  now?     What  Newes  ? 

Mes.  Letters  my  Lord  from  Hamlet?     This  to  Mess**.  These 

to 

your  Maiesty :  this  to  the  Queene. 

King.  From  Hamlet  ?    Who  brought  them  ? 

Mes.  Saylors  my  Lord  they  say,  I  saw  them  not: 
They  were  giuen  me  by  Claudio,  he  receiu'd  them.8     0f  him  Jj* 

King.  Laertes  you  shall  heare  them  : 9  brought  th** 

Leaue  vs.  Exit  Messenger 10 

High  and  Mighty,  you  shall  know  I  am  set 
naked  on  your  Kingdome.  To  morrow  shall  I  begge 
leaue  to  see  your  Kingly  Eyes}1  When  I  shall  {first 
asking  your  Pardon  thereunto)  recount  tti Occasions  the  occasion  of 

my  suddaine 

of  my  sodaine,  and  more  strange  returne}2  retume. 

Hamlet.13 
What  should  this  meane  ?     Are  all  the  rest  come  Kit*,  what 
backe  ? 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


1  'would  convert  his  fetters — if  I  imprisoned  him — to  graces,  com- 
mending him  yet  more  to  their  regard.' 


2  amfd  is  certainly  the  right,  and  a  true  Shaksperean  word  : — it  was 
no  fault  in  the  aim,  but  in  the  force  of  the  flight — no  matter  of  the  eye, 
but  of  the  arm,  which  could  not  give  momentum  enough  to  such  slightly 
timbered  arrows.  The  fault  in  the  construction  of  the  last  line,  I  need  not 
remark  upon. 

I  think  there  is  a  hint  of  this  the  genuine  meaning  even  in  the 
blundered  and  partly  unintelligible  reading  of  the  Quarto.  If  we  leave 
out  '  for  so  loued,'  we  have  this  :  '  So  that  my  arrows,  too  slightly  timbered, 
would  have  reverted  armed  to  my  bow  again,  but  not  {would ?iot  have 
gone)  where  I  have  aimed  them,' — implying  that  his  arrows  would  have 
turned  their  armed  heads  against  himself. 

What  the  king  says  here  is  true,  but  far  from  the  truth  :  he  feared 
driving  Hamlet,  and  giving  him  at  the  same  time  opportunity,  to  speak  in 
his  own  defence  and  render  his  reasons. 

3  extremes  ?  or  conditions  ? 

4  '  With  many  a  tempest  hadde  his  berd  ben  schake.' — Chaucer,  of 
the  Schipman,  in  The  Prologue  to  The  Canterbury  Tales. 

5  —hear  of  Hamlet's  death  in  England,  he  means. 

At  this  point  in  the  ist  Q.  comes  a  scene  between  Horatio  and  the 
queen,  in  which  he  informs  her  of  a  letter  he  had  just  received  from 
Hamlet, 

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  &c. 

Horatio  does  not  mention  the  pirates,  but  speaks  of  Hamlet  'being set 
ashore,'  and  of  Gilderstone  and  Rosse?icraft  going  on  to  their  fate.  The 
queen  assures  Horatio  that  she  is  but  temporizing  with  the  king,  and 
shows  herself  anxious  for  the  success  of  her  son's  design  against  his  life. 
The  Poet's  intent  was  not  yet  clear  to  himself. 

6  Here  his  crow  cracks. 

7  From  l  How  now  '  to  '  Hamlet '  is  not  in  Q, 

8  Horatio  has  given  the  sailors'  letters  to  Claudio,  he  to  another. 

9  He  wants  to  show  him  that  he  has  nothing  behind — that  he  is  open 
with  him  :  he  will  read  without  having  pre-read. 

10  Not  in  Q. 

11  He  makes  this  request  for  an  interview  with  the  intent  of  killing 
him.     The  king  takes  care  he  does  not  have  it. 

n  '  more  strange  than  sudden  ' 
13  Not  in  Q. 


216         THE    TR AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Or  is  it  some  abuse  ?  '  Or  no  such  thing  ? 2  abuse,  and  no  * 

Laer.  Know  you  the  hand  ? 3 

Kin.  'Tis  Hamlets  Character,  naked  and  in  a 
Postscript  here  he  sayes  alone:4  Can  you  aduise  deuise  me? 
me?  5 

Laer.  I'm  lost  in  it  my  Lord  ;  but  let  him  come,  i  am 
It  warmes  the  very  sicknesse  in  my  heart, 
That  I  shall  liue  and  tell  him  to  his  teeth  ;  Thft  i  Hue 

7  and 

Thus  diddest  thou.  didst 

Kin.  If  it  be  so  Laertes,  as  how  should  it  be  so : 6 

How  otherwise  will  you  be  rul'd  by  me  ? 

Laer.  If  so  7  you'l  not  o'rerule  me  to  a  peace.       J  my  Lord,  so 

*  *  you  will  not 

Kin.  To   thine   owne    peace :    if    he   be   now 

return'd, 

.'.ji  As  checking-8  at  his  Voyage,  and  that  he  meanes      As  the  King8 
195  s  athis 

No  more  to  vndertake  it  ;  I  will  worke  him 

To  an  exployt  now  ripe  in  my  Deuice,  deuise, 

Vnder  the  which  he  shall  not  choose  but  fall  ; 

And  for  his  death  no  winde  of  blame  shall  breath, 

221   But  euen  his  Mother  shall  vncharge  the  practice,9 

And  call  it  accident :  *  Some  two  Monthes  hence 10    two  months 

since 

Here  was  a  Gentleman  of  Normandy, 

l'ue  seene  my  selfe,  and  seru'd  against  the  French,    ihaue 


*  Here  i?i  the  Quarto : — 

Laer.  My  Lord  I  will  be  rul'd, 
The  rather  if  you  could  deuise  it  so 
That  I  might  be  the  organ. 

King.  It  falls  right, 
You  haue  beene  talkt  of  since  your  trauaile  !  much, 
And  that  in  Hamlets  hearing,  for  a  qualitie 
Wherein  they  say  you  shine,  your  summe  of  parts  3 
Did  not  together  plucke  such  enuie  from  him 
As  did  that  one,  and  that  in  my  regard 
Of  the  vnworthiest  siedge.3 

Laer.  What  part  is  that  my  Lord  ? 

Ki7ig.  A  very  ribaud  4  in  the  cap  of  youth, 
Yet  needfull  to,  for  youth  no  lesse  becomes  5 
The  light  and  carelesse  liuery  that  it  weares 
Then  setled  age,  his  sables,  and  his  weedes  6 
Importing  health7  and  grauenes  ; 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  217 

1  '  some  trick  played  on  me  ?  '      Compare  K.  Lear,  act  v.  sc.  7  :  ' 1  am 
mightily  abused.' 

2  I  incline  to  the  Q.  reading  here  :  'or  is  it  some  trick, and  no  reality 
in  it  ? ' 

3  — following  the  king's  suggestion. 

4  Point  thus :  'Tis  Hamlets  Character.     'Naked'  ! — And,  in  a  Post- 
script here,  he  sayes  '  alone  '  !     Can  &c. 

'  Alone'' — to  allay  suspicion  of  his  having  brought  assistance  with  him. 

5  Fine  flattery— preparing  the  way  for  the  instigation  he  is  about  to 
commence. 


6  Point  thus :  '  — as  how  should  it  be  so  ?  how  otherwise  ? — will '  &c. 
The  king  cannot  tell  what  to  think — either  how  it  can  be,  or  how  it  might 
be  otherwise — for  here  is  Hamlet's  own  hand  ! 

7  provided 


8  A  hawk  was  said  to  check  when  it  forsook  its  proper  game  for 
some  other  bird  that  crossed  its  flight.  The  blunder  in  the  Quarto  is  odd, 
plainly  from  manuscript  copy,  and  is  not  likely  to  have  been  set  right  by 
any  but  the  author. 


9  '  shall  not  give  the  practice ' — artifice,  cunning  attempt,  chicane, 
or  trick — but  a  word  not  necessarily  offensive — '  the  name  it  deserves, 
but  call  it  accident: '     221 

10  '  Some  '  not  in  Q. — Hence  may  be  either  backwards  or  forwards  \ 
now  it  is  used  only  forwards. 


'  travels 

2  '  all  your  excellencies  together ' 

3  seat,  place,  grade,  position,  merit 

*  '  Avery  riband  ' — a  mere  trifling  accomplishment :  the  u  of  the  text  can  but  be  a  misprint 
for  ». 

6  youth  obj.,  livery  nom.  to  becomes. 

*  '  than  his  furs  and  his  robes  become  settled  age,'  ' 

'  Warburton  thinks   the  word  ought  to  be  wealth,  but  I  doubt  it  ;  health,  in  its  sense  of 
wholeness, general  soundness,  in  affairs  as  well  as  person,  I  should  prefer. 


218         THE    Tit  AGE  DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

And  they  ran  \  well  on  Horscbacke ;  but  this  Gallant  they  can  weii  ■ 

Had  witchcraft  in't 2 ;  he  grew  into  his  Seat,  vnto  his 

And  to  such  wondrous  doing  brought  his  Horse, 

As  had  he  beene  encorps't  and  demy-Natur'd 

With  the  braue  Beast,3  so  farre  he  past  my  thought,  h«  [°g* "?« 

That  I  in  forgery 5  of  shapes  and  trickes, 

Come  short  of  what  he  did.6 

Laer.  A  Norman  was't  ? 

Kin.  A  Norman. 

Laer.  Vpon  my  life  Lamound.  LamonL 

Kin.  The  very  same. 

Laer.  I  know  him  well,  he  is  the  Brooch  indeed, 
And  Iemme  of  all  our  Nation,  ail  the  Nation. 

Kin.  Hee  mad  confession  of  you, 
And  gaue  you  such  a  Masterly  report, 
For  Art  and  exercise  in  your  defence  ; 
And  for  your  Rapier  most  especially,  .  espedaii, 

That  he  cryed  out,  t'would  be  a  sight  indeed,7 
If  one  could  match  you  *  Sir.    This  report  of  his        \ sir  thIs 
220,  264  Djc!  Hamlet  so  envenom  with  his  Enuy,8 

That  he  could  nothiitg  doe  but  wish  and  begge, 

Your  sodaine  comming  ore  to  play  with  him  ;9  with  you 

Now  out  of  this.10 

I^aer.  Why  out  of  this,  my  Lord  ?  what  out 

Kin.  Laertes  was  your  Father  deare  to  you  ? 
Or  are  you  like  the  painting  l!  of  a  sorrow, 
A  face  without  a  heart  ? 

Laer.  Why  aske  you  this  ? 

LCin.  Not  that  I  thinke  you  did  not  loue  your 
Father, 
But  that  I. know  Loue  is  begun  by  Time  12 : 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto : — 

;  the  Scrimures  '  of  their  nation 
He  swore  had  neither  motion,  guard  nor  eye, 
If  you  oppOsd  them  ; 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  219 

1  I  think  the  can  of  the  Quarto  is  the  true  word. 
■  — in  his  horsemanship 


3  There  is  no  mistake  in  the  order  '  had  he  beene '  ;  the  transposition 
is  equivalent  to  if:  i  as  if  he  had  been  imbodied  with,  and  shared  half 
the  nature  of  the  brave  beast,' 

These  two  lines,  from  As  to  thought,  must  be  taken  parenthetically  ; 
or  else  there  must  be  supposed  a  dash  after  Beast,  and  a  fresh  start 
made. 

1  But  he  (as  if  Centaur-like  he  had  been  one  piece  with  the  horse) 
was  no  more  moved  than  one  with  the  going  of  his  own  legs  : ' 

'  it  seemed,  as  he  borrowed  the  horse's  body,  so  he  lent  the  horse 
his  mind  :' — Sir  Philip  Sidney.    Arcadia,  B.  ii.  p.  115. 

4  ' — surpassed,  I  thought,' 

5  'in  invention  of 

6  Emphasis  on  did,  as  antithetic  to  forgery  :  ■  my  inventing  came  short 
of  his  doing.' 


7  '  it  would  be  a  sight  indeed  to  see  you  matched  with  an  equal. 
The  king  would  strengthen  Laertes'  confidence  in  his  proficiency. 

8  (  made  him  so  spiteful  by  stirring  up  his  habitual  envy,' 


9  All  invention. 

10  Here  should  be  a  dash  :  the  king  pauses.  He  is  approaching 
dangerous  ground — is  about  to  propose  a  thing  abominable,  and  there- 
fore to  the  influence  of  flattered  vanity  and  roused  emulation,  would  add 
the  fiercest  heat  of  stimulated  love  and  hatred — to  which  end  he  pro- 
ceeds to  cast  doubt  on  the  quality  of  Laertes'  love  for  his  father. 


n 


the  picture 


through  habit ' 


French  escrimcurs :  fencers 


THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET 


And  that  I  see  in  passages  of  proofe,1 
Time  qualifies  the  sparke  and  fire  of  it : 2 
Hamlet  comes  backe  :  what  would  you  vndertake, 
To  show  your  selfe  your  Fathers  sonne  indeed, 
More  then  in  words  ? 

Laer.  To  cut  his  throat  i'th'Church.3 
Kin,  No  place  indeed  should  murder  Sancturize  ; 
Reuenge  should  haue  no  bounds  :  but  good  Laertes 
Will  you  doe  this,  keepe  close  within  your  Chamber, 
Hamlet  return'd,  shall  know  you  are  come  home : 
Wee'l  put  on  those  shall  praise  your  excellence, 
And  set  a  double  varnish  on  the  fame 
The  Frenchman  gaue  you,  bring  you  in  fine  to- 
gether, 
And  wager  on  your  heads,  he  being  remisse,4 
218  Most  generous,  and  free  from  all  contriuing, 

Will  not  peruse 5  the  Foiles  ?     So  that  with  ease, 
Or  with  a  little  shuffling,  you  may  choose 
A  Sword  vnbaited,6  and  in  a  passe  of  practice,7 
Requit  him  for  your  Father. 

Laer.  I  will  doo't, 
And  for  that  purpose  He  annoint  my  Sword  : 8 
I  bought  an  Vnction  of  a  Mountebanke 
So  mortall,  I  but  dipt  a  knife  in  it,9 
Where  it  drawes  blood,  no  Cataplasme  so  rare, 
Collected  from  all  Simples  that  haue  Vertue 


selfe  indeede 
your  fathers 
sonne 


ore  your 


pace  of 


for  purpose, 


mortall,  that 
but  dippe  a 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

There  Hues  within  the  very  flame  of  loue 

A  kind  of  weeke  or  snufe  that  will  abate  it,1 

And  nothing  is  at  a  like  goodnes  still,3 

For  goodnes  growing  to  a  plurisie,3 

Dies  in  his  owne  too  much,  that  we  would  doe 

We  should  doe  when  we  would  :  for  this  would  change  ,4 

And  hath  abatements  and  delayes  as  many, 

As  there  are  tongues,  are  hands,  are  accedents, 

And  then  this  should  is  like  a  spend  thrifts  sigh, 

That  hurts  by  easing  ;'°  but  to  the  quick  of  th'vlcer, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


221 


1  '  passages  of  proofe,' — trials.     *  I  see  when  it  is  put  to  the  test,' 

2  '  time  modifies  it.' 


3  Contrast  him  here  with  Hamlet. 


4  careless 


examine— the  word  being  of  general  application  then. 


once    before    216 — to 


6  unblunted.     Some  foils  seem  to  have  been  made  with  a  button  that 
could  be  taken — probably  screwed  off. 

7  Whether  practice  here  means  exercise  or  cunning,   I  cannot   de- 
termine.     Possibly  the  king  uses  the   word    as 
be  taken  as  Laertes  may  please. 

8  In  the  1st  Q.  this  proposal  also  is  made  by  the  king. 

9  •  So  mortal,  yes,  a  knife  being  but  dipt  in  it,'  or, 
'  So  mortal,  did  I  but  dip  a  knife  in  it,' 


1  To  understand  this  figure,  one  must  be  familiar  with  the  behaviour  of  the  wick  of  a  common 
lamp  or  tallow  candle. 

2  '  nothing  keeps  always  at  the  same  degree  of  goodness,' 

3  A  plurisie  is  just  a  too-muchness,  from  phis,  pluris—a.  plethora,  not  our  word  pleurisy, 
from  n\evpa.     See  notes  in  Johnson  and  Steevens. 

*  The  sense  here  requires  an  s,  and  the  space  in  the  Quarto  between  the  e  and  the  comma 
gives  the  probability  that  a  letter  has  dropt  out. 

5  Modern  editors  seem  agreed  to  substitute  the  adjective  spendthrift :  our  sole  authority 
has  spendthrifts,  and  by  it  I  hold.  The  meaning  seems  this  :  '  the  would  changes,  the  thing  is 
not  done,  and  then  the  should,  the  mere  acknowledgment  of  duty,  is  like  the  sigh  of  a  spend- 
thrift, who  regrets  consequences  but  does  not  change  his  way  :  it  eases  his  conscience  for  a  moment, 
and  so  injures  him.'  There  would  at  the  same  time  be  allusion  to  what  was  believed  concerning 
sighs  :  Dr.  Johnson  says,  '  It  is  a  notion  very  prevalent,  that  sighs  impair  the  strength,  and  wear 
out  the  animal  powers.' 


222         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Vndcr  the  Moone,  can  saue  the  thing  from  death, 
That  is  but  scratcht  withall  :  He  touch  my  point, 
With  this  contagion,  that  if  I  gall  him  slightly,1 
It  may  be  death. 

Kin  Let's  further  thinke  of  this, 
Weigh  what  conuenience 2  both  of  time  and  meanes 
May  fit  vs  to  our  shape,3  if  this  should  faile  ; 
And  that  our  drift  looke  through  our  bad  perform- 
ance, 
'Twere  better  not  assaid  ;  therefore  this  Proiect 
Should  haue  a  backe  or  second,  that  might  hold, 
If  this  should  blast  in  proofe  : 4  Soft,  let  me  see  8      did  blast 
Wee'l  make  a  solemne  wager  on  your  commings,6     cunnings,* 
I  ha't :  when  in  your  motion  you  are  hot  and  dry,    hate,  when 
As 7  make  your  bowts  more  violent  to  the  end,8         to  that  end, 
And  that  he  cals  for  drinke  ;  He  haue  prepar'd  him  prefardhim 
268  A  Challice  for  the  nonce  ° ;  whereon  but  sipping, 
If  he  by  chance  escape  your  venom'd  stuck,10 
Our  purpose  may11  hold  there  ;  how  sweet  Queene. 


Enter  Queene. 


there  ;  but 
stay,  what 
noyse  ? 


Queen.  One  woe  doth  tread  vpon  anothers  heele, 
So  fast  they'l  follow 12 :  your  Sister's  drown 'd  Laertes,  they  follow ; 
Laer.  Drown'd  !     O  where  ?  13 
Queen.  There    is    a   Willow14   growes  aslant  a  ascaunttiw 

**  -  °  Brooke 

Brooke, 
That  shewes  his  hore  leaues  in  the  glassie  streame  :  hon-y  leaues* 
There  with  fantasticke  Garlands  did  she  come,15       Therewith  | 
Of  Crow-flowers, 16  Nettles,  Daysies,  and  long  Purples, 
That  liberall  Shepheards  giue  a  grosser  name  ; 
But  our  cold  Maids  doe  Dead  Mens  Fingers  call  our  cuii-ooU 

them  : 
There  on  the  pendant17  boughes,  her  Coronet  weeds18 
Clambring  to  hang  ; 19  an  enuious  sliuer  broke,20 
When  downe  the  weedy  Trophies,19  and  her  selfe,     her  weedy 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


1  '  that  though  I  should  gall  him  but  slightly,' 
or,  '  that  if  I  gall  him  ever  so  slightly,' 


2  proper  arrangement 

3  '  fit  us  exactly,  like  a  garment  cut  to  our  shape,'  or  perhaps  '  shape ' 


is  used  for  intent,  purpose. 
And  '  &c 


Point  thus:  'shape.     If  this  should  faile, 


4  This  seems  to  allude  to  the  assay  of  a  firearm,  and  to  mean  '  burst 
on  the  trial.''     Note  'assaid'  two  lines  back. 

5  There  should  be  a  pause  here,  and  a  longer  pause  after  commings  : 
the  king  is  contriving.  '  I  ha't '  should  have  a  line  to  itself,  with  again  a 
pause,  but  a  shorter  one. 

6  Veney,  venue,  is  a  term  of  fencing :  a  bout,  a  thrust — from  venir,  to 
come — whence  'commings.'  (259)  But  cunnings,  meaning  skills,  may 
be  the  word. 

7  '  As  '  is  here  equivalent  to  '  and  so.' 

8  — to  the  end  of  making  Hamlet  hot  and  dry 

9  for  the  special  occasion 

10  thrust.  Twelfth  Night,  act  iii.  sc.  4.  'he  gives  me  the  stuck  in 
with  such  a  mortal  motion.'  Stocco  in  Italian  is  a  long  rapier  ;  and 
stoccata  a  thrust.   Rom.  and  Jul.,  act  iii.  sc.  1.    See  Shakespeare-Lexicon. 

11  '  may '  does  not  here  express  doubt,  but  intention. 

12  If  this  be  the  right  reading,  it  means,  '  so  fast  they  insist  on 
following.' 

13  He  speaks  it  as  about  to  rush  to  her. 

14  — tiie  choice  of  Ophelia's  fantastic  madness,  as  being  the  tree  of 
lamenting  lovers. 

15  — always  busy  with  flowers  ie  Ranunculus  :  Sh.  Lex. 

17  — specially  descriptive  of  the  willow 

18  her  wild  flowers  made  into  a  garland 

19  The  intention  would  seem,  that  she  imagined  herself  decorating  a 
monument  to  her  father.  Hence  her  Coronet  weeds  and  the  Poet's 
weedy  Trophies. 

20  Sliver,  I  suspect,  called  so  after  the  fact,  because  slivered  or  torn 
off.     In  Macbeth  we  have  : 

slips  of  yew 
Slivered  in  the  moon's  eclipse. 

But  it  may  be  that  sliver  was  used  for  a  twig,  such  as  could  be  torn 
off. 

Slip  and  sliver  must  be  of  the  same  root. 


224         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Fell  in  the  weeping  Brooke,  her  cloathes    spred 

wide, 
And  Mermaid-like,  a  while  they  bore  her  vp, 
Which  time  she  chaunted  snatches  of  old  tunes,1       old  lauded 
As  one  incapable  of2  her  owne  distresse, 
Or  like  a  creature  Natiue,  and  indued  3 
Vnto  that  Element :  but  long  it  could  not  be, 
Till  that  her  garments,  heauy  with  her  drinke,  theyrdrinki 

Pul'd  the  poore  wretch  from  her  melodious  buy,4       melodious  lay 
To  muddy  death.5 

Laer.  Alas  then,  is  she  drown'd  ?  she  is 

Queen.  Drown'd,  drown'd. 

Laer.  Too    much    of    water   hast    thou    poore 
Ophelia, 
And  therefore  I  forbid  my  teares :  but  yet 
It  is  our  tricke,6  Nature  her  custome  holds, 
Let  shame  say  what  it  will  ;  when  these  are  gone 
The  woman  will  be  out : 7  Adue  my  Lord, 
I  haue  a  speech  of  fire,  that  faine  would  blaze,  speech  a  fire 

But  that  this  folly  doubts 8  it.  Exit,  drownes  it.8 

Kin.  Let's  follow,  Gertrude  : 
How  much  I  had  to  doe  to  calme  his  rage  ? 
Now  feare  I  this  will  giue  it  start  againe  ; 
Therefore  let's  follow.  Exeunt? 

10  Enter  two  Clownes. 
Clown.  Is  she  to  bee  buried  in  Christian  buriall,  buriaii,  when 

she  wilfully 

that  wilfully  seekes  her  owne  saluation  ?  n 

Other.  I  tell  thee  she  is,  and  therefore  make  her  u,  therefore 
Graue  straight,12  the  Crowner  hath  sate  on  her,  and 
finds  it  Christian  buriall. 

Clo.  How  can  that  be,  vnlesse  she  drowned  her 
selfe  in  her  owne  defence  ? 

Other.  Why  'tis  found  so.13 

Clo.  It  must  be  Se  offendendo,u  it  cannot  bee  else  :  be  so  offended, 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


225 


1  They  were  not  lauds  she  was  in  the  habit  of  singing,  to  judge  by 
the  snatches  given. 

2  not  able  to  take  in,  not  understanding,  not  conscious  of 

3  clothed,  endowed,  fitted  for.     See  Sh.  Lex, 

4  Could  the  word  be  for  buoy — '  her  clothes  spread  wide,'  on  which 
she  floated  singing — therefore  her  melodious  buoy  or  float  ? 

5  How  could  the  queen  know  all  this,  when  there  was  no  one  near 
enough  to  rescue  her  ?  Does  not  the  Poet  intend  the  mode  of  her  death 
given  here  for  an  invention  of  the  queen,  to  hide  the  girl's  suicide,  and  by 
circumstance  beguile  the  sorrow-rage  of  Laertes  ? 


6  '  I  cannot  help  it ' 

7  '  when  these  few  tears  are  spent,  all  the  woman  will  be  out  of  me  :  I 
shall  be  a  man  again.' 

8  douts  :  { this  foolish  water  of  tears  puts  it  out.'     See  Q.  reading. 


9  Here  ends   the  Fourth  Act,  between   which   and   the    Fifth  may 
intervene  a  day  or  two. 

10  Act  V.     This  act  requires  only  part  of  a  day ;  the  funeral  and  the 
catastrophe  might  be  on  the  same. 

11  Has  this  a  confused  connection  with  the  fancy  that  salvation  is 
getting  to  heaven  ? 

12  Whether  this  means  straightway,  or  not  crooked,  I  cannot  tell. 


18  '  the  coroner  has  settled  it.' 

14  The  Clown's  blunder  for  defendendo* 


226         THE    TRACED  IE    OF   HAMLET, 

for  heere  lies  the  point ;  If  I  drowne  my  selfe 
wittingly,  it  argues  an  Act :  and  an  Act  hath  three 
branches.     It  is  an  Act  to  doe  and  to  performe  ;  it  is  to  act,  to 

L  doe,  to  per- 

argall l  she  drown'd  her  selfe  wittingly.  forme,  or  ail; 

Other.  Nay  but  heare  you  Goodman  Deluer.        good  man 

deluer. 

Clown.  Giue  me  leaue  ;  heere  lies  the  water  ; 
good  :  heere  stands  the  man  ;  good  :  If  the  man 
goe  to  this  water  and  drowne  himsele  ;  it  is  will 
he  nill  he,  he  goes  ;  marke  you  that  ?  But  if  the 
water  come  to  him  and  drowne  him  ;  hee  drownes 
not  himselfe.  Argall,  hee  that  is  not  guilty  of  his 
owne  death,  shortens  not  his  owne  life. 

Other.   But  is  this  law  ? 

Clo.  I  marry  is't,  Crowners  Quest  Law. 

Other.  Will  you  ha  the  truth  on't :  if  this  had  truth  an't, 
not  beene  a  Gentlewoman,  shee  should  haue  beene 
buried  out  of2  Christian  Buriall.  out  a 

Clo.  Why  there  thou  say'st.  And  the  more 
pitty  that  great  folke  should  haue  countenance  in 
this  world  to  drowne  or  hang  themselues,  more  then 
their  euen  3  Christian.  Come,  my  Spade  ;  there  is 
no  ancient  Gentlemen,  but  Gardiners,  Ditchers  and 
Graue-makers  ;  they  hold  vp  Adams  Profession. 

Other.  Was  he  a  Gentleman  ? 

Clo.  He  was  the  first  that  euer  bore  Armes.  a  was 

4  Other.  Why  he  had  none. 

Clo.  What,  ar't  a  Heathen  ?  how  dost  thou  vn- 
derstand  the  Scripture  ?  the  Scripture  sayes  Adam 
dig'd  ;  could  hee  digge  without  Armes  ? 4  |  He  put 
another  question  to  thee  ;  if  thou  answerest  me  not 
to  the  purpose,  confesse  thy  selfe 

Other.  Go  too. 

Clo.  What  is  he  that  builds  stronger  then  either 
the  Mason,  the  Shipwright,  or  the  Carpenter  ? 

Other.  The  Gallowes  maker  ;  for  that  Frame 
outliues  a  thousand  Tenants.  that  outlines 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


227 


ergo,  therefore. 


without.  The  pleasure  the  speeches  of  the  Clown  give  us,  lies  partly 
in  the  undercurrent  of  sense,  so  disguised  by  stupidity  in  the  utterance  ; 
and  partly  in  the  wit  which  mainly  succeeds  in  its  end  by  the  failure  of 
its  means. 

3  equal,  that  is  fellow  Christian. 


From  *  Other '  to  *  Armes '  not  in  Quarto. 


Q  2 


228         THE    TRACE  DIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Clo.  I  like  thy  wit  well  in  good  faith,  the 
Gallowes  does  well ;  but  how  does  it  well  ?  it  does 
well  to  those  that  doe  ill  :  now,  thou  dost  ill  to  say 
the  Gallowes  is  built  stronger  then  the  Church  : 
Argall,  the  Gallowes  may  doe  well  to  thee.  Too't 
againe,  Come. 

Other.  Who  builds  stronger  then  a  Mason,  a 
Shipwright,  or  a  Carpenter  ? 

Clo.  I,  tell  me  that,  and  vnyoake.1 

Other.  Marry,  now  I  can  tell. 

Clo.  Too't. 

Other.  Masse,  I  cannot  tell. 

Enter  Hamlet  and  Horatio  a  farre  off.2 

Clo.  Cudgell  thy  braines  no  more  about  it  ;  for 
your  dull  Asse  will  not  mend  his  pace  with  beat- 
ing, and  when  you  are  ask't  this  question  next,  say 
a  Graue-maker :  the  Houses  that  he  makes,  lasts  houses  hee 

makes 

till  Doomesday  :  go,  get  thee  to  Yaughan?  fetch  thee  in,  and 

m  fetch  mee  a 

me  a  stoupe  of  Liquor.  so°pe  of 

Sings* 

In  youth  zvhen  I  did  loue,  did  lone,  song. 

me  thought  it  was  very  szveete  : 
To  contract  O  the  time  for  a  my  behoue, 

O  me  thotight  there  was  nothing  meete.b  Lthlngameet. 

Enter  Ham- 

Ham.  Ha's  this  fellow  no  feeling  of  his  busi-  %Z?JT' 
nesse,  that  he  sings  at  Graue-making  ? 6  making. graue" 

Hor.  Custome  hath  made  it  in  him  a  property 7 
of  easinesse. 

Ham.  Tis  ee'n  so  ;  the  hand  of  little  Imploy- 
ment  hath  the  daintier  sense. 

Clowne  sings. ,8 
But  Age  with  his  stealing  steps  ciow.     Song. 

hath  caught  me  in  his  clutch :  hath  clawed 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE. 


229 


1  '  unyoke  your  team ' — as  having  earned  his  rest 


Not  in  Quarto. 


3  Whether  this  is  the  name  of  a  place,  or  the  name  of  an  innkeeper, 
or  is  merely  an  inexplicable  corruption — some  take  it  for  a  stage-direction 
to  yawn — I  cannot  tell.     See  Q.  reading. 

It  is  said  to  have  been  discovered  that  a  foreigner  named  Johan 
sold  ale  next  door  to  the  Globe. 

4  Not  in  Quarto. 


5  A  song  ascribed  to  Lord  Vaux  is  in  this  and  the  following  stanzas 
made  nonsense  of. 

6  Note  Hamlet's  mood  throughout  what  follows.  He  has  entered  the 
shadow  of  death. 

7  Property  is  what  specially  belongs  to  the  individual ;  here  it  is  his 
peculiar  work,  or  personal  calling',  'custom  has  made  it  with  him  an 
easy  duty.' 


Not  in  Quarto. 


230         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

And  hath  shipped  me  intill  the  Land,  uno 
as  if  I  had  netier  beene  such. 
Ham.  That  Scull  had  a  tongue  in  it,  and  could 

sing  once  :  how  the  knaue  iowles  it  to  th'  grownd,  the 

as  if  it  were    Caines  law-bone,  that  did  the  first  twere 

murther  :  It  might  be  the  Pateof  a  Polititian  which  murder,  this 

this  Asse  o're  Offices  :  one  that  could  circumuent  use  now  ore- 

„       .  .«_....  ,    i  reaches;  one 

God,  might  it  not  ?  that  would 

Hor.  It  might,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Or  of  a  Courtier,  which  could  say,  Good 
Morrow  sweet  Lord :  how  dost  thou,,  good  Lord?  thou  sweet 

i    •  Tii  lord? 

this  might  be  my  Lord  such  a  one,  that  prais  d  my 
Lord  such  a  ones  Horse,  when  he  meant  to  begge  when  a  went  to 
it  ;  might  it  not  ?  ' 
Hor.  I,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  Why    ee'n    so  :     and    now    my    Lady 
Worme^,5  Chaplesse,3  and  knockt  about  the  Mazard 4  chopies  |  the 
with  a  Sextons  Spade  ;  heere's  fine  Reuolution,  if  and  we  had 
wee  had  the  tricke  to  see't.     Did  these  bones  cost 
no  more  the  breeding,  but  to  play  at  Loggets 5  with 
'em  ?  mine  ake  tothinke  on't.  them 

Clowne  sings?1 
A  Pickhaxe  and  a  Spade,  a  Spade,  ciow.     Song. 

for  and  a  shrowding-  Sheete : 
0  a  Pit  of  Clay  for  to  be  made, 
for  such  a  Guest  is  meete. 
Ham.  There's  another :    why  might    not   that 
bee   the    Scull   of   of   a    Lawyer?    where    be    his  skuiiofa 
Quiddits 7    now  ?    his    Quillets 7  ?   his    Cases  ?    his  quiddities 
Tenures,  and  his  Tricks  ?  why  doe's  he  suffer  this 
rude  knaue  now  to  knocke  him  about  the  Sconce  8  this  madde 

knaue 

with  a  dirty  Shouell,  and  will  not  tell  him  of  his 
Action  of  Battery  ?  hum.  This  fellow  might  be 
in's  time  a  great  buyer  of  Land,  with  his 
Statutes,  his  Recognizances,  his  Fines,  his  double 


PRINCE    OF  DENMAKKE  231 


1  To  feel  the  full  force  of  this,  we  must  call  up  the  expression  on  the 
face  of  '  such  a  one '  as  he  begged  the  horse — probably  imitated  by 
Hamlet — and  contrast  it  with  the  look  on  the  face  of  the  skull. 

2  '  now  the  property  of  my  Lady  Worm,' 

3  the  lower  jaw  gone 

4  the  upper  jaw,  I  think — not  the  head. 

5  a  game  in  which  pins  of  wood,  called  loggats,  nearly  two  feet  long, 
were  half  thrown,  half  slid,  towards  a  bowl.  Blount :  Johnson  and 
Steevens. 

6  Not  in  Quarto. 


7  a  lawyer's  quirks  and  quibbles.     See  Johnson  and  Steevens. 

1st  Q.  now  where  is  your 

Quirkes  and  quillets  now, 

8  humorous,  or  slang  word  for  the  head.     *  A  fort — a  head-piece — the 
head':   Webster ]s  Diet. 


232         THE    TRACE  DIE    OF    HAMLET, 

Vouchers,  his  Recoueries  :  | ■  Is  this  the  fine 2  of  his 
|  Fines,  and  the  recouery 3  of  his  Recoueries,1  |to  haue 
his  fine4  Pate  full  of  fine4  Dirt?  will  his  Vouchers  win  vouchers 
vouch  him  no  more  of  his  Purchases,  and  double  purchases  & 

doubles  then 

ones  too,  then  the  length  and  breadth  of  a  paire  of 
Indentures  ?  the  very  Conueyances  of  his  Lands 
will  hardly  lye  in  this  Boxe 5  ;  and  must  the  In-  scarcely  iy< 
heritor  himselfe  haue  no  more  ?  6  ha  ? 

Hor.  Not  a  iot  more,  my  Lord. 

Ham.    Is    not    Parchment    made    of    Sheep- 
skinnes  ? 

Hor.  I  my  Lord,  and  of  Calue-skinnes  too.  Caiues-skinaeg 

Ham.  They  are  Sheepe  and  Calues  that  seek  which  seek 
out  assurance  in  that.     I  will  speake  to  this  fellow : 
whose  Graue's  this  Sir  ?  this  sirra? 

Go.  Mine  Sir  :  C/ow.  Mine 

0  a  Pit  of  Clay  for  to  be  made, 
for  such  a  Guest  is  meete? 

Ham.  I   thinke  it  be  thine  indeed  :    for  thou 
liest  in't. 

Go.  You  lye  out  on't  Sir,  and  therefore  it  is  not  us 
yours :  for  my  part,  I  doe  not  lye  in't  ;  and  yet  it  hit,  yet 
is  mine. 

Ham.  Thou  dost  lye  in't,  to  be  in't  and  say  'tis  it  is 
thine :  'tis  for  the  dead,  not  for  the  quicke,  there- 
fore thou  lyest 

Go.  Tis  a  quicke  lye   Sir,  'twill  away  againe 
from  me  to  you.8 

Ham.  What  man  dost  thou  digge  it  for  ? 

Go.  For  no  man  Sir. 

Ham.  What  woman  then  ? 

Go.  For  none  neither. 

Ham.  Who  is  to  be  buried  in't  ? 

Go.  One  that  was  a  woman  Sir  ;  but  rest  her 
Soule,  shee's  dead. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 

1  From  '  Is  '  to  '  Recoueries  '  not  in  Q. 

2  the  end 

3  the  property  regained  by  his  Recoveries 

4  third  and  fourth  meanings  of  the  word  fine 


233 


6  the  skull 

6  '  must  the  heir  have  no  more  either  ? ' 

1st  Q.  and  must 

The  honor  (owner  ? )  lie  there  ? 


This  line  not  in  Q. 


He  gives  the  lie. 


234         THE    TR  AGE  DIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Ham.  How  absolute  l  the  knaue  is  ?  wee  must 
256  speake  by  the  Carde,2  or  equiuocation  will  vndoe 

vs  :  by  the  Lord  Horatio,  these  three  yeares3  I  haue  this  three 
taken  note  of  it,  the  Age  is  growne  so  picked,4  tooke 
that  the  toe  of  the    Pesant   comes  so  neere  the 
heeles  of  our  Courtier,  hee  galls  his  Kibe.5     How  theheeieof 

the 

long  hast  thou  been  a  Graue-maker  ?  been  Graue- 

maker  ? 

Clo.  Of  all  the  dayes  i'th'yeare,  I   came  too't  ofthedaye* 
that   day6   that   our   last    King   Hamlet  o'recame  ouercame 
Fortinbras. 

Ham.  How  long  is  that  since  ? 

Clo.  Cannot  you  tell  that  ?  euery  foole  can  tell 
M3  that  :  It  was  the  very  day,6  that  young  Hamlet  was  was  that  very 
borne,8  hee  that  was  mad,  and  sent  into  England,      that  is  mad 

Ham.  I  marry,  why  was  he  sent  into  England  ? 

Clo.  Why,  because  he  was  mad;  hee  shall  re-  a  was  mad:  a 

shall 

couer  his  wits  there  ;  or  if  he  do  not,  it's  no  great  if  a  do ;  tia 
matter  there. 

Ham.  Why? 

Clo.  'Twill  not  be  seene  in  him,  there  the  men  him  there, 

there 

are  as  mad  as  he. 

Ham.  How  came  he  mad  ? 

Clo.  Very  strangely  they  say. 

Ham.  How  strangely  ?  7 

Clo.  Faith  e'ene  with  loosing  his  wits. 

Ham.  Vpon  what  ground  ? 

Clo.  Why  heere  in  Denmarke 8 :  I  haue  bin  sixe-  Sexten 
42-3   teene  heere,  man  and  Boy  thirty  yeares.9 

Ham.  How  long  will  a  man  lie  'ith'  earth  ere  he 
rot? 

Clo.  I  faith,  if  he  be  not  rotten  before  he  die  (as  Fayth  if  a  be 

v  not  I  a  die 

we  haue  many  pocky  Coarses  now  adaies,  that  will  corses,  that 
scarce  hold  the  laying  in)  he  will  last  you  some  a  win 
eight  yeare,  or  nine  yeare.     A  Tanner  will  last  you 
nine  year  e. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  235 


1  '  How  the  knave  insists  on  precision  ! ' 
3  chart :  Skeafs  Etym.  Diet. 


3  Can  this  indicate  any  point  in  the  history  of  English  society  ? 

4  so  fastidious  ;  so  given  to  picking  and  choosing  ;  so  choice 


5  The  word  is  to  be  found  in  any  dictionary,  but  is  not  generally 
understood.    Lord  Byron,  a  very  inaccurate  writer,  takes  it  to  mean  heel : 

Devices  quaint,  and  frolics  ever  new, 
Tread  on  each  others'  kibes. 

Childe  Harold,  Canto  i.  St.  67. 
It  means  a  chilblain. 

6  Then  Fortinbras  could  have  been  but  a  few  months  younger  than 
Hamlet,  and  may  have  been  older.  Hamlet  then,  in  the  Quarto  passage, 
could  not  by  tender  mean  young. 


7  'In  what  way  strangely?' — in  what  strange  way  ?  Or  the  How 
may  be  how  much,  in  retort  to  the  very ;  but  the  intent  would  be  the 
same — a  request  for  further  information. 

8  Hamlet  has  asked  on  what  ground  or  provocation,  that  is,  from 
what  cause,  Hamlet  lost  his  wits  ;  the  sexton  chooses  to  take  the  word 
ground  materially. 


9  The  Poet  makes  him  say  how  long  he  had  been  sexton — but  how 
naturally  and  informally — by  a  stupid  joke  ! — in  order  a  second  time,  and 
more  certainly,  to  tell  us  Hamlet's  age  :  he  must  have  held  it  a  point 
necessary  to  the  understanding  of  Hamlet. 

Note  Hamlet's  question  immediately  following.  It  looks  as  if  he  had 
first  said  to  himself :  '  Yes — I  have  been  thirty  years  above  ground  ! '  and 
then  said  to  the  sexton,  '  How  long  will  a  man  lie  i'  th'  earth  ere  he  rot  ?  ' 
We  might  enquire  even  too  curiously  as  to  the  connecting  links. 


236         THE    TRACED  IE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  Why  he,  more  then  another  ? 

Clo.  Why  sir,  his  hide  is  so  tan'd  with  his  Trade, 
that  he  will  keepe  out  water  a  great  while.     And  a  win 
your  water,  is  a  sore  Decayer  of  your  horson  dead 
body.     Heres  a  Scull  now  :  this  Scul,  has  laine  in  now  hath  iyen 

you  i'th  earth 

the  earth  three  and  twenty  years.  23.  yeeres. 

Ham.  Whose  was  it  ? 

Clo.  A  whoreson  mad  Fellowes  it  was  ; 
Whose  doe  you  thinke  it  was  ? 

Ham.  Nay,  I  know  not 

Clo.  A  pestlence  on  him  for  a  mad  Rogue,  a 
pou'rd  a  Flaggon  of  Renish  on  my  head  once. 
This  same  Scull  Sir,  this  same  Scull  sir,  was  Yoricks  once ;  this 

same  skull  sir, 

Scull,  the  Kings  Iester.  ™&vuYorim 

Ham.  This  ? 
Clo.  E'ene  that. 
Ham.  Let  me  see.     Alas  poore  Yorick,  I  knew  Ham.  Mas 

poore 

him  Horatio,  a  fellow  of  infinite  lest ;  of  most  ex- 
cellent fancy,  he  hath  borne  me  on  his  backe  a  bore 
thousand  times:  And  how  abhorred  l  my  Imagina-  and  now  how  1 
tion  is,  my  gorge   rises  at  it.     Heere  hung  those  it  is: 
lipps,  that  I  haue  kist  I  know  not  how  oft.    Where 
be  your  Iibes  now  ?  Your  Gambals  ?  Your  Songs  ? 
Your  flashes  of  Merriment  that  were  wont  to  set 
the  Table  on  a  Rore  ?    No  one 2  now  to  mock  your  not  one 
own  leering?    Quite  chopfalne3?    Now  get  you  to  owne  grinning, 
my  Ladies  Chamber,  and  tell  her,  let  her  paint  an  Ladies  table, 
inch  thicke,  to  this  fauour 4  she  must  come.     Make 
her  laugh  at  that :    pry  thee  Horatio  tell  me  one 
thing. 

Hor.  What's  that  my  Lord  ? 

Ham.  Dost  thou  thinke  Alexander  lookt  o'this  a  this 
fashion  i'th'  earth  ? 

Hor.  E'ene  so. 

Ham.  And  smelt  so  ?    Puh. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  237 


1  If  this  be  the  true  reading,  abhorred  must  mean  horrified ;  but  I 
incline  to  the  Quarto. 


2  '  Not  one  jibe,  not  one  flash  of  merriment  now? ' 

3  — chop  indeed  quite  fallen  off  ! 


to  this  look—  that  of  the  skull 


238         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Hor.  E'ene  so,  my  Lord. 

Ham.  To   what    base   vses    we    may    returne 
Horatio.     Why    may   not    Imagination    trace   the 
Noble  dust  of  Alexander,  till  he  *  find  it  stopping  a  a  find 
bunghole. 

Hor.  'Twere  to  consider :  to  curiously  to  con-  consider  too 

curiously 

sider  so. 

Ham.  No  faith,  not  a  iot.  But  to  follow  him 
thether  with  modestie 2  enough,  and  likeliehood  to 
lead  it;  as  thus.     Alexander  died  :  Alexander  was  lead  it.   aux. 

ander 

buried  :  Alexander  returneth  into  dust  ;  the  dust  is  to 

earth ;  of  earth  we  make  Lome,  and  why  of  that 

Lome  (whereto  he  was  conuerted)  might  they  not 

stopp  a  Beere-barrell  ? 3 

Imperiall  Ccesar,  dead  and  turn'd  to  clay,  imperious 

Might  stop  a  hole  to  keepe  the  winde  away. 

Oh,  that  that  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe, 

Should  patch  a  Wall,  t'expell  the  winters  flaw.4         waters  flaw. 

But  soft,  but  soft,  aside  ;  heere  comes  the  King.         ,  but  soft 

awhile,  here 

Enter  King,  Queene,  Laertes,  and  a  Coffin,  Enter  k.  q. 

Laertes  and 

with  Lords  attendant.  the  corse. 

The    Queene,   the   Courtiers.     Who    is    that   they  this  they 

follow, 
And  with  such  maimed  rites  ?    This  doth  betoken, 
The  Coarse  they  follow,  did  with  disperate  hand, 
Fore  do  it  owne  life  ;  'twas  some  Estate.5  twas  of  some s 

Couch 6  we  a  while,  and  mark. 

Laer.  What  Cerimony  else  ? 

Ham.  That  is  Laertes,  a  very  Noble  youth  : 7 
Marke. 

Laer.  What  Cerimony  else  ? 8 

Priest.  Her  Obsequies  haue  bin  as  farre  inlarg'd,  Doct. 
As  we  haue  warrantis,9  her  death  was  doubtfull,10       warramie, 
And  but  that  great  Command,  o're-swaies  the  order,1 1 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  239 


Imagination  personified 


moderation 


3  '  Loam,  Lome — grafting  clay.  Mortar  made  of  Clay  and  Straw  j  also 
a  sort  of  Plaister  used  by  Chymists  to  stop  up  their  Vessels.' — Bailey's 
Diet 


4  a  sudden  puff  or  blast  of  wind 

Hamlet  here  makes  a  solemn  epigram.  For  the  right  understanding 
of  the  whole  scene,  the  student  must  remember  that  Hamlet  is  philosophiz- 
ing— following  things  out,  curiously  or  otherwise — on  the  brink  of  a  grave, 
concerning  the  tenant  for  which  he  has  enquired — '  what  woman  then  ?' — 
but  received  no  answer. 


5  '  the  corpse  was  of  some  position.' 

6  '  let  us  lie  down  ' — behind  a  grave  or  stone 

7  Hamlet  was  quite  in  the  dark  as  to  Laertes'  character  ;  he  had  seen 
next  to  nothing  of  him. 

8  The  priest  making  no  answer,  Laertes  repeats  the  question. 

9  warrantise 

10  This  casts  discredit  on  the  queen's  story,  222.  The  priest  believes 
she  died  by  suicide,  only  calls  her  death  doubtful  to  excuse  their  grant- 
ing her  so  many  of  the  rites  of  burial. 

11  'settled  mode  of  proceeding.' — Schmidfs  Sh,  Lex. — But  is  it  not 
rather  the  order  of  the  church  ? 


virgin  Crants, 


Doct. 


240         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

She  should  in  ground  vnsanctified  haue  lodg'd,  vmanctified 

Till  the  last  Trumpet.     For  charitable  praier,  prayer*, 

Shardes,1  Flints,  and  Peebles,  should  be  thro  wne 

on  her : 
Yet  heere  she  is  allowed  her  Virgin  Rites, 
Her  Maiden  strewments,3  and  the  bringing  home 
Of  Bell  and  Buriall.4 

Laer.  Must  there  no  more  be  done  ? 

Priest.  No  more  be  done  : 8 
We  should  prophane  the  seruice  of  the  dead, 
To  sing  sage 6  Requiem,  and  such  rest  to  her  sing  a 

a  r->  Requiem 

As  to  peace-parted  Soules. 

Laer.  Lay  her  i'th'  earth, 
And  from  her  faire  and  vnpolluted  flesh, 
May  Violets  spring.     I  tell  thee  (churlish  Priest) 
A  Ministring  Angell  shall  my  Sister  be, 
When  thou  liest  howling  ? 

Ham.  What,  the  faire  Ophelia  ? 7 

Queene.  Sweets,  to  the  sweet  farewell.8 
118   I  hop'd  thou  should'st  haue  bin  my  Hamlets  wife : 
I    thought   thy    Bride-bed    to   haue   deckt  (sweet 

Maid) 
And  not  t'haue  strew'd  thy  Graue.  not  haue 

Laer.  Oh  terrible  woer,9  o  treble  woe 

Fall  ten  times  trebble,  on  that  cursed  head  times  double 

on 

Whose  wicked  deed,  thy  most  Ingenioussence 
Depriu'd  thee  of.  Hold  off  the  earth  a  while, 
Till  I  haue  caught  her  once  more  in  mine  armes : 

Leaps  in  the  graue™ 
Now  pile  your  dust,  vpon  the  quicke,  and  dead, 
Till  of  this  flat  a  Mountaine  you  haue  made, 
To  o're  top  old  Pelion,  or  the  skyish  head  To'retop 

Of  blew  Olympus}1 

Ham.12  What  is  he,  whose  griefes  griefe 

Beares  such  an  Emphasis  ?  whose  phrase  of  Sorrow 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  241 


1  '  Shardes'  not  in  Quarto.     It  means  potshe?'ds. 

2  chaplet — German  krantz,  used  even  for  virginity  itself. 

3  strewments  with  white  flowers  (?) 

4  the  burial  service 


5  as  an  exclamation,  I  think. 


6  Is  the  word  sage  used  as  representing  the  unfitness  of  a  requiem 
to  her  state  of  mind  ?  or  is  it  only  from  its  kindred  with  solemn  ?  It  was 
because  she  was  not  '  peace-parted '  that  they  could  not  sing  rest  to  her. 


7  Everything  here  depends  on  the  actor. 

8  I  am  not  sure  the  queen  is  not  apostrophizing  the  flowers  she  is 
throwing  into  or  upon  the  coffin :  '  Sweets,  be  my  farewell  to  the 
sweet.' 


9  The  Folio  may  be  right  here  : — '  Oh  terrible  wooer  ! — May  ten  times 
treble  thy  misfortunes  fall '  &c. 


10  This  stage-direction  is  not  in  the  Quarto. 

Here  the  \st  Quarto  has  : — 

Lear.    Forbeare  the  earth  a  while  :  sister  farewell  : 
Leartes  leapes  into  the  graue. 
Now  powre  your  earth  on  Oly?npus  hie, 
And  make  a  hill  to  o're  top  olde  Pellon  : 

Hamlet  leapes  i?i  after  Leartes 
Whats  he  that  coniures  so  ? 

Ham.  Beholde  tis  I,  Hamlet  the  Dane. 

11  The  whole  speech  is  bravado— the  frothy  grief  of  a  weak,  excitable, 
effusive  nature. 

12  He  can  remain  apart  no  longer,  and  approaches  the  company. 

R 


242         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 


252,  262 


Coniure   the  wandring   Starres,  and    makes  them 

stand 
Like  wonder-wounded  hearers  ?  This  is  I, 
Hamlet  the  Dane.1 

Laer.  The  deuill  take  thy  soule.2 

Ham.  Thou  prai'st  not  well, 
I  prythee  take  thy  ringers  from  my  throat ; 3 
Sir  though  I  am  not  Spleenatiue,  and  rash, 
Yet  haue  I  something  in  me  dangerous, 
Which  let  thy  wisenesse  feare.     Away  thy  hand. 

King.  Pluck  them  asunder. 

Qu.  Hamlet,  Hamlet. 

Gen.  Good  my  Lord  be  quiet. 

Ham.  Why  I  will    fight  with  him  vppon  this 
Theme, 
Vntill  my  eielids  will  no  longer  wag.4 

Qu.  Oh  my  Sonne,  what  Theame  ? 

Ham.  I  lou'd  Ophelia*  \  fortie  thousand  Brothers 
Could  not  (with  all  there  quantitie  of  Loue) 
Make  vp  my  summe.    What  wilt  thou  do  for  her  ? 6 

King.  Oh  he  is  mad. Laertes? 

Qu.  For  loue  of  God  forbeare  him. 

Ham.  Come  show  me  what  thou'lt  doe. 
Woo't    weepe  ?    Woo't    fight  ?     Woo't    teare   thy 

selfe  ? 
Woo't  drinke  vp  Esile,  eate  a  Crocodile  ? 6 
He  doo't.     Dost  thou  come  heere  to  whine  ; 
To  outface  me  with  leaping  in  her  Graue  ? 
Be 8  buried  quicke  with  her,  and  so  will  I. 
And  if  thou  prate  of  Mountaines  ;  let  them  throw 
Millions  of  Akers  on  vs  ;  till  our  ground 
Sindging  his  pate  against  the  burning  Zone, 
Make  Ossa  like  a  wart.     Nay,  and  thoul't  mouth, 
He  rant  as  well  as  thou.9 


Coniures 


For  though  | 
spleenatiue 
rash, 

in  me  some- 
thing 
wisedome 
feare ;  hold  off 
thy 

All.      Gentle- 
men. 

Mora.  Good 


Ham  S'wounds 
shew  I  th'owt 
fight,  woo't 
fast,  woo't 
teare 


doost  come 
here 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  243 

1  This  fine  speech  is  yet  spoken  in  the  character  of  madman,  which 
Hamlet  puts  on  once  more  the  moment  he  has  to  appear  before  the  king. 
Its  poetry  and  dignity  belong  to  Hamlet's  feeling  ;  its  extravagance  to 
his  assumed  insanity.  It  must  be  remembered  that  death  is  a  small 
affair  to  Hamlet  beside  his  mother's  life,  and  that  the  death  of  Ophelia 
may  even  be  some  consolation  to  him. 

In  the  Folio,  a  few  lines  back,  Laertes  leaps  into  the  grave.  There  is  no 
such  direction  in  the  Q.  In  neither  is  Hamlet  said  to  leap  into  the  grave  ; 
only  the  1st  Q.  so  directs.  It  is  a  stage-business  that  must  please  the 
common  actor  of  Hamlet  ;  but  there  is  nothing  in  the  text  any  more 
than  in  the  margin  of  Folio  or  Quarto  to  justify  it,  and  it  would  but  for 
the  horror  of  it  be  ludicrous.  The  coffin  is  supposed  to  be  in  the  grave  : 
must  Laertes  jump  down  upon  it,  followed  by  Hamlet,  and  the  two  fight 
and  trample  over  the  body  ? 

Yet  I  take  the  l  Leaps  in  the  grave''  to  be  an  action  intended  for 
Laertes  by  the  Poet.  His  '  Hold  off  the  earth  a  while,'  does  not  neces- 
sarily imply  that  the  body  is  already  in  the  grave.  He  has  before  said, 
'  Lay  her  i'th'  earth  ' :  then  it  was  not  in  the  grave.  It  is  just  about  to  be 
lowered,  when,  with  that  cry  of  'Hold  off  the  earth  a  while,'  he  jumps 
into  the  grave,  and  taking  the  corpse,  on  a  bier  at  the  side  of  it,  in  his 
arms,  calls  to  the  spectators  to  pile  a  mountain  on  them — in  the  wild  speech 
that  brings  out  Hamlet.  The  quiet  dignity  of  Hamlet's  speech  does  not 
comport  with  his  jumping  into  the  grave  :  Laertes  comes  out  of  the  grave, 
and  flies  at  Hamlet's  throat.     So,  at  least,  I  would  have  the  thing  acted. 

There  is,  however,  nothing  in  the  text  to  show  that  Laertes  comes 
out  of  the  grave,  and  if  the  manager  insist  on  the  traditional  mode,  I 
would  suggest  that  the  grave  be  represented  much  larger.  In  Mr.  Jewitt's 
book  on  Grave-Mounds,  I  read  of  a  'female  skeleton  in  a  grave  six  feet 
deep,  ten  feet  long,  and  eight  feet  wide.'  Such  a  grave  would  give  room 
for  both  beside  the  body,  and  dismiss  the  hideousness  of  the  common 
representation. 

2  — springing  out  of  the  grave  and  flying  at  Hamlet 

3  Note  the  temper,  self-knowledge,  self-government,  and  self-distrust 
of  Hamlet. 

4  The  eyelids  last  of  all  become  incapable  of  motion. 

5  That  he  loved  her  is  the  only  thing  to  explain  the  harshness  of  his 
behaviour  to  her.  Had  he  not  loved  her  and  not  been  miserable  about  her, 
he  would  have  been  as  polite  to  her  as  well  bred  people  would  have  him. 

6  The  gallants  of  Shakspere's  day  would  challenge  each  other  to  do 
more  disagreeable  things  than  any  of  these  in  honour  of  their  mistresses. 

' Esil.  s.m.  Ancien  nom  du  Vinaigre.'  Supplement  to  Academy  Diet., 
1847. — 'Eisile,  vinegar  ^ :  Bosworth's  Anglo-Saxon  Diet.,  from  Somner's 
Saxon  Diet.,  1659. — 'Eisel  {Saxon),  vinegar;  verjuice;  any  acid'' :  John- 
son's Diet. 

1st  Q.  '  Wilt  drinke  vp  vessels,'  The  word  up  very  likely  implies  the 
steady  emptying  of  a  vessel  specified — at  a  draught,  and  not  by  degrees. 

7  — pretending  care  over  Hamlet. 

8  Emphasis  on  Be,  which  I  take  for  the  imperative  mood. 

9  The  moment  it  is  uttered,  he  recognizes  and  confesses  to  the  rant, 
ashamed  of  it  even  under  the  cover  of  his  madness.     It  did  not  belong 


244         THE    TR AGE DIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Kin}  This  is  meerc  Madnessc  :  <?»«.1 

And  thus  awhile  the  fit  will  worke  on  him  :  And  thu 

Anon  as  patient  as  the  female  Doue, 
When  that  her  golden  2  Cuplet3  are  disclos'd  4 ;         cupiets3 
His  silence  will  sit  drooping.5 

Ham.  Heare  you  Sir  : 6 
What  is  the  reason  that  you  vse  me  thus  ? 
I  loud'  you  euer  ; 7  but  it  is  no  matter : 8 
Let  Hercules  himselfe  doe  what  he  may, 
The  Cat  will  Mew,  and  Dogge  will  haue  his  day.9 

Exit.    Exit  Hamlet 
and  Horatio. 

Kin.  I    pray    you    good    Horatio    wait    vpon  praythee 

good 

him, 
Strengthen  you  patience  in  our  last  nights  speech,    your 
2  54  Wee'l  put  the  matter  to  the  present  push  : 10 

Good  Gertrude  set  some  watch  ouer  your  Sonne, 

This  Graue  shall  haue  a  liuing11  Monument : ,2 

An  houre  of  quiet  shortly  shall  we  see  ;  ,3  quiet  think 

Till  then,  in  patience  our  proceeding  be.       Exeunt. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  245 

altogether  to  the  madness.  Later  he  expresses  to  Horatio  his  regret  in 
regard  to  this  passage  between  him  and  Laertes,  and  afterwards  apologizes 
to  Laertes.  252,  262 

Perhaps  this  is  the  speech  in  all  the  play  of  which  it  is  most  difficult 
to  get  into  a  sympathetic  comprehension.  The  student  must  call  to 
mind  the  elements  at  war  in  Hamlet's  soul,  and  generating  discords  in  his 
behaviour  :  to  those  comes  now  the  shock  of  Ophelia's  death ;  the  last 
tie  that  bound  him  to  life  is  gone — the  one  glimmer  of  hope  left  him  for 
this  world  !  The  grave  upon  whose  brink  he  has  been  bandying  words 
with  the  sexton,  is  for  her !  Into  such  a  consciousness  comes  the  rant  of 
Laertes.  Only  the  forms  of  madness  are  free  to  him,  while  no  form  is 
too  strong  in  which  to  repudiate  indifference  to  Ophelia  :  for  her  sake,  as 
well  as  to  relieve  his  own  heart,  he  casts  the  clear  confession  of  his 
love  into  her  grave.  He  is  even  jealous,  over  her  dead  body,  of  her 
brother's  profession  of  love  to  her — as  if  any  brother  could  love  as  he 
loved  !  This  is  foolish,  no  doubt,  but  human,  and  natural  to  a  certain 
childishness  in  grief.     252. 

Add  to  this,  that  Hamlet — see  later  in  his  speeches  to  Osricke — had  a 
lively  inclination  to  answer  a  fool  according  to  his  folly  (256),  to  outherod 
Herod  if  Herod  would  rave,  out-euphuize  Euphues  himself  if  he  would 
be  ridiculous  : — the  digestion  of  all  these  things  in  the  retort  of  meditation 
will  result,  I  would  fain  think,  in  an  understanding  and  artistic  justi- 
fication of  even  this  speech  of  Hamlet :  the  more  I  consider  it  the  truer 
it  seems.  If  proof  be  necessary  that  real  feeling  is  mingled  in  the  mad- 
ness of  the  utterance,  it  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  he  is  immediately 
ashamed  of  its  extravagance. 


1  I  hardly  know  which  to  choose  as  the  speaker  of  this  speech.  It 
would  be  a  fine  specimen  of  the  king's  hypocrisy ;  and  perhaps  indeed 
its  poetry,  lovely  in  itself,  but  at  such  a  time  sentimental,  is  fitter  for  him 
than  the  less  guilty  queen. 

2  '  covered  with  a  yellow  down  '     Heath. 

3  The  singular  is  better  :  » the  pigeon  lays  no  more  than  two  eggs.' 
Steevens.     Only,  couplets  might  be  used  like  twins. 

4  — hatched,  the  sporting  term  of  the  time. 

5  '  The  pigeon  never  quits  her  nest  for  three  days  after  her  two  young 
ones  are  hatched,  except  for  a  few  moments  to  get  food.'    Steevens. 

6  Laertes  stands  eyeing  him  with  evil  looks. 

7  I  suppose  here  a  pause  :  he  waits  in  vain  some  response  from 
Laertes. 

8  Here  he  retreats  into  his  madness. 

9  '  — but  I  cannot  compel  you  to  hear  reason.  Do  what  he  will, 
Hercules  himself  cannot  keep  the  cat  from  mewing,  or  the  dog  from 
following  his  inclination  ! ' — said  in  a  half  humorous,  half  contemptuous 
despair. 

10  '  into  immediate  train '— to  Laertes. 

11  life-like,  or  lasting} 

12  — again  to  Laertes 

13  — when  Hamlet  is  dead 


146,  i8i 


24$  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Enter  Hamlet  and  Horatio. 
Ham.  So  much  for  this  Sir  ;  now  let  mc  sec  now  shall  yon 

see 

the  other,1 
You  doe  remember  all  the  Circumstance.2 
Hor.  Remember  it  my  Lord  ? 3 
Ham.  Sir,  in  my  heart  there  was  a  kinde  of 

fighting, 
That    would    not   let  me   sleepe  ; 4  me  thought   I   my  thought 

lay 
Worse  then  the  mutines  in  the  Bilboes,5  rashly,  bilbo 

(And  praise  be  rashnesse  for  it) 6  let  vs  know,  pray*) 

Our  indiscretion  sometimes  serues  vs  well,  sometime 

When  our  deare  plots  do  paule,7  and  that  should  deepe  \  should 

learne  vs 

teach  vs, 
There's  a  Diuinity  that  shapes  our  ends,8 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will.9 

Hor.  That  is  most  certaine. 

Ham.  Vp  from  my  Cabin 
My  sea-gowne  scarft  about  me  in  the  darke, 
Grop'd  I  to  finde  out  them  ; 10  had  my  desire, 
Finger'd  their  Packet  n,  and  in  fine,  withdrew 
To  mine  owne  roome  againe,  making  so  bold, 
(My  feares  forgetting  manners)  to  vnseale  tovnfoid 

Their  grand  Commission,  where  I  found  Horatio, 
Oh  royall  12  knauery  :  An  exact  command,  a  royaii 

196  Larded  with  many  seuerall  sorts  of  reason  ;  reasons, 

Importing  Denmarks  health,  and  Englands  too, 
With  hoo,  such  Bugges  13  and  Goblins  in  my  life,       hoe 
That  on  the  superuize  u  no  leasure  bated,15 
No  not  to  stay  the  grinding  of  the  Axe, 
My  head  shoud  be  struck  off. 

Hor.  1st  possible  ? 

Ham.  Here's  the  Commission,  read  it  at  more 
leysure : 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  247 


1  I  would  suggest  that  the  one  paper,  which  he  has  just  shown,  is  a 
commission  the  king  gave  to  himself ;  the  other,  which  he  is  about  to 
show,  that  given  to  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne.  He  is  setting  forth 
his  proof  of  the  king's  treachery. 

2  — of  the  king's  words  and  behaviour,  possibly,  in  giving  him  his 
papers,  Horatio  having  been  present ;  or  it  might  mean,  '  Have  you  got 
the  things  I  have  just  told  you  clear  in  your  mind  ?' 

3  '  — as  if  I  could  forget  a  single  particular  of  it  ! ' 

4  The  Shaping  Divinity  was  moving  him. 

5  The  fetters  called  bilboes  fasten  a  couple  of  mutinous  sailors  together 
by  the  legs. 

6  Does  he  not  here  check  himself  and  begin  afresh — remembering 
that  the  praise  belongs  to  the  Divinity  ? 

7  pall — from  the  root  of  pale — '  come  to  nothing.'  He  had  had  his 
plots  from  which  he  hoped  much  ;  the  king's  commission  had  rendered 
them  futile.  But  he  seems  to  have  grown  doubtful  of  his  plans  before, 
probably  through  the  doubt  of  his  companions  which  led  him  to  seek  ac- 
quaintance with  their  commission,  and  he  may  mean  that  his  'dear  plots' 
had  begun  to  pall  upon  him.  Anyhow  the  sudden  '  indiscretion '  of 
searching  for  and  unsealing  the  ambassadors'  commission  served  him  as 
nothing  else  could  have  served  him. 

8  — even  by  our  indiscretion.    Emphasis  on  shapes. 

9  Here  is  another  sign  of  Hamlet's  religion.  24,  125,  260.  We  start  to 
work  out  an  idea,  but  the  result  does  not  correspond  with  the  idea  : 
another  has  been  at  work  along  with  us.  We  rough-hew— block  out 
our  marble,  say  for  a  Mercury  ;  the  result  is  an  Apollo.  Hamlet  had 
rough-hewn  his  ends — he  had  begun  plans  to  certain  ends,  but  had  he 
been  allowed  to  go  on  shaping  them  alone,  the  result,  even  had  he 
carried  out  his  plans  and  shaped  his  ends  to  his  mind,  would  have  been 
failure.  Another  mallet  and  chisel  were  busy  shaping  them  otherwise 
from  the  first,  and  carrying  them  out  to  a  true  success.  For  success  is  not 
the  success  of  plans,  but  the  success  of  ends. 

10  Emphasize  /  and  the?n,  as  the  rhythm  requires,  and  the  phrase  be- 
comes picturesque. 

11  '  got  my  fingers  on  their  papers ' 

12  Emphasize  royal. 

13  A  bug  is  any  object  causing  terror. 

14  immediately  on  the  reading 

15  — no  interval  abated,  taken  off  the  immediacy  of  the  order 
respite  granted 


248         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

But  wilt  thou  hcare  me  how  I  did  proceed  ?  heare  now  bo| 

Hor.  I  beseech  you. 

Ham.  Being    thus   benetted    round   with   Vil- 
laines,1 
Ere  I  could  make  a  Prologue  to  my  braines,  Or  i  could 

They  had  begun  the  Play.2     I  sate  me  downe, 
Deuis'd  a  new  Commission,3  wrote  it  faire, 
I  once  did  hold  it  as  our  Statists 4  doe, 
A  basenesse  to  write  faire ;  and  laboured  much 
How  to  forget  that  learning  :  but  Sir  now, 
It  did  me  Yeomans 5  seruice  :  wilt  thou  know  yemans 

The  effects 6  of  what  I  wrote  ?  Th'effect fi 

Hor.  I,  good  my  Lord. 

Ham.  An  earnest  Coniuration  from  the  King, 
As  England  was  his  faithfull  Tributary, 
As   loue   betweene   them,    as   the    Palme   should  them  like  the  | 

might  florish, 

flourish, 
As  Peace  should  still  her  wheaten  Garland  weare, 
And  stand  a  Comma  'tweene  their  amities,7 
And  many  such  like  Assis8  of  great  charge,  like,  as  sir  of 

That  on  the  view  and  know  of  these  Contents,  knowing 

Without  debatement  further,  more  or  lesse, 
He  should  the  bearers  put  to  sodaine  death,  those  bearers 

Not  shriuing  time  allowed. 

Hor.  How  was  this  seal'd  ? 

Ham.  Why,  euen  in  that  was  Heauen  ordinate  ;  ordfoant, 
I  had  my  fathers  Signet  in  my  Purse, 
Which  was  the  Modell  of  that  Danish  Seale : 
Folded  the  Writ  vp  in  forme  of  the  other,  in  the  forme  of 

r  th* 

Subscrib'd  it,  gau't  th'impression,  plac't  it  safely,       subscribe  it, 
The  changeling   neuer   knowne  :    Now,  the   next 

day 
Was  our  Sea  Fight,  and  what  to  this  was  sement,     was  sequent 
Thou  know'st  already.9 

Hor.  So  Guildensterne  and  Rosiucrance,  go  too't. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  249 

1  — the  nearest,  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne  :  Hamlet  was  quite 
satisfied  of  their  villainy. 

2  '  I  had  no  need  to  think  ;  the  thing  came  to  me  at  once.' 

3  Note  Hamlet's  rapid  practicality — not  merely  in  devising,  but  in 
carrying  out. 

4  statesmen 

5  '  Yeomen  of  the  guard  of  the  king's  body  were  anciently  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men,  of  the  best  rank  under  gentry,  and  of  larger  stature 
than  ordinary ;  every  one  being  required  to  be  six  feet  high.' — E. 
Chambers'  Cyclopaedia.  Hence  'yeoman's  service '  must  mean  the  very 
best  of  service. 

6  Note  our  common  phrase  :  '  I  wrote  to  this  effect.' 

7  '  as  he  would  have  Peace  stand  between  their  friendships  like  a 
comma  between  two  words.'  Every  point  has  in  it  a  conjunctive,  as  well 
as  a  disjunctive  element  :  the  former  seems  the  one  regarded  here — 
only  that  some  amities  require  more  than  a  comma  to  separate  them. 
The  comma  does  not  make  much  of  a  figure — is  good  enough  for  its 
position,  however  ;  if  indeed  the  fact  be  not,  that,  instead  of  standing  for 
Peace,  it  does  not  even  stand  for  itself,  but  for  some  other  word.  I  do 
not  for  my  part  think  so. 

8  Dr.  Johnson  says  there  is  a  quibble  here  with  asses  as  beasts  of 
charge  or  burden.  It  is  probable  enough,  seeing,  as  Malone  tells  us,  that 
in  Warwickshire,  as  did  Dr.  Johnson  himself,  they  pronounce  as  hard.  In 
Aberdeenshire  the  sound  of  the  s  varies  with  the  intent  of  the  word  : 
'  az  he  said '  ;  '  ass  strong  az  a  horse.' 

9  To  what  purpose  is  this  half-voyage  to  England  made  part  of  the 
play  ?  The  action — except,  as  not  a  few  would  have  it,  the  very  action  be 
delay — is  nowise  furthered  by  it ;  Hamlet  merely  goes  and  returns. 

To  answer  this  question,  let  us  find  the  real  ground  for  Hamlet's  reflec- 
tion, '  There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends.'  Observe,  he  is  set  at  liberty 
without  being  in  the  least  indebted  to  the  finding  of  the  commission — by 
the  attack,  namely,  of  the  pirate  ;  and  this  was  not  the  shaping  of  his 
ends  of  which  he  was  thinking  when  he  made  the  reflection,  for  it  had 
reference  to  the  finding  of  the  commission.  What  then  was  the  ground 
of  the  reflection?  And  what  justifies  the  whole  passage  in  relation  to  the 
Poet's  object,  the  character  of  Hamlet? 

This,  it  seems  to  me  : — 

Although  Hamlet  could  not  have  had  much  doubt  left  with  regard 
to  his  uncle's  guilt,  yet  a  man  with  a  fine,  delicate — what  most  men 
would  think,  because  so  much  more  exacting  than  theirs — fastidious 
conscience,  might  well  desire  some  proof  more  positive  yet,  before  he  did 
a  deed  so  repugnant  to  his  nature,  and  carrying  in  k  such  a  loud  con- 
demnation of  his  mother.  And  more  :  he  might  well  wish  to  have 
something  to  show  :  a  man's  conviction  is  no  proof,  though  it  may  work 
in  others  inclination  to  receive  proof.  Hamlet  is  sent  to  sea  just  to  get 
such  proof  as  will  not  only  thoroughly  satisfy  himself,  but  be  capable  of 
being  shown  to  others.  He  holds  now  in  his  hand — to  lay  before  the 
people — the  two  contradictory  commissions.  By  his  voyage  then  he  has 
gained  both  assurance  of  his  duty,  and  provision  against  the  consequence 


250         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

Ham.  Why  man,  they  did  make  loue  to  this 
imployment l 
They  are  not  neere  my  Conscience  ;  their  debate       their  defeat a 
Doth  by  their  owne  insinuation 3  grow  : 4  Dooes 

Tis  dangerous,  when  the  baser  nature  comes 
Betweene  the  passe,  and  fell  incensed  points 
Of  mighty  opposites.5 

Hor.  Why,  what  a  King  is  this  ? 6 

Ham.  Does  it  not,  thinkst  thee,7  stand  me  now  not  thinke 

thee7  stand 

vpon  8 
1 20   He   that   hath   kil'd   my    King,9    and    whor'd    my 

Mother, 
62   Popt  in  betweene  th'election  and  my  hopes, 


PRINCE    OP  DENMARKE.  251 

he  mainly  dreaded,  that  of  leaving  a  wounded  name  behind  him.  272 
This  is  the  shaping  of  his  ends — so  exactly  to  his  needs,  so  different  from 
his  rough-hewn  plans— which  is  the  work  of  the  Divinity.  The  man 
who  desires  to  know  his  duty  that  he  may  do  it,  who  will  not  shirk  it 
when  he  does  know  it,  will  have  time  allowed  him  and  the  thing  made 
plain  to  him  ;  his  perplexity  will  even  strengthen  and  purify  his  will.  The 
weak  man  is  he  who,  certain  of  what  is  required  of  him,  fails  to  meet 
it :  so  never  once  fails  Hamlet.  Note,  in  all  that  follows,  that  a  load 
seems  taken  off  him  :  after  a  gracious  tardiness  to  believe  up  to  the  point 
of  action,  he  is  at  length  satisfied.  Hesitation  belongs  to  the  noble  nature, 
to  Hamlet;  precipitation  to  the  poor  nature,  to  Laertes,  the  son  of 
Polonius.  Compare  Brutus  in  Julius  Ccssar — a  Hamlet  in  favourable  cir- 
cumstances, with  Hamlet— a  Brutus  in  the  most  unfavourable  circum- 
stances conceivable. 

1  This  verse  not  in  Q.  2  destruction 

3  '  Their  destruction  they  have  enticed  on  themselves  by  their  own 
behaviour ; '  or,  '  they  have  crept  into  their  fate  by  their  underhand 
dealings.'     The  Sh.  Lex.  explains  insinuation  as  meddling. 

4  With  the  concern  of  Horatio  for  the  fate  of  Rosincrance  and 
Guildensterne,  Hamlet  shows  no  sympathy.  It  has  been  objected  to 
his  character  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  play  to  show  them  privy  to 
the  contents  of  their  commission  ;  to  this  it  would  be  answer  enough, 
that  Hamlet  is  satisfied  of  their  worthlessness,  and  that  their  whole  be- 
haviour in  the  play  shows  them  merest  parasites  ;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
we  must  note  that,  in  changing  the  commission,  he  had  no  intention, 
could  have  had  no  thought,  of  letting  them  go  to  England  without 
him  :  that  was  a  pure  shaping  of  their  ends  by  the  Divinity.  Possibly 
his  own  'dear  plots  '  had  in  them  the  notion  of  getting  help  against  his 
uncle  from  the  king  of  England,  in  which  case  he  would  willingly  of 
course  have  continued  his  journey ;  but  whatever  they  may  be  supposed 
to  have  been,  they  were  laid  in  connection  with  the  voyage,  not  founded 
on  the  chance  of  its  interruption.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  a  man  like  him, 
averse  to  the  shedding  of  blood,  intending  interference  for  their  lives  : 
as  heir  apparent,  he  would  certainly  have  been  listened  to.  The  tone 
of  his  reply  to  Horatio  is  that  of  one  who  has  been  made  the  unintend- 
ing  cause  of  a  deserved  fate  :  the  thing  having  fallen  out  so,  the  Divinity 
having  so  shaped  their  ends,  there  was  nothing  in  their  character,  any 
more  than  in  that  of  Polonius,  to  make  him  regret  their  death,  or  the  part 
he  had  had  in  it. 

6  The  '  mighty  opposites '  here  are  the  king  and  Hamlet. 

6  Perhaps,  as  Hamlet  talked,  he  has  been  parenthetically  glancing  at 
the  real  commission.  Anyhow  conviction  is  growing  stronger  in  Horatio, 
whom,  for  the  occasion,  we  may  regard  as  a  type  of  the  public. 

7  '  thinkst  thee,'  in  the  fashion  of  the  Friends,  or  '  thinke  thee '  in 
the  sense  of  '  bethink  thee.' 

8  'Does  it  not  rest  now  on  me? — is  it  not  now  my  duty? — is  it  not 
incumbent  on  me  (with  lie  for  stand) — "is't  not  perfect  conscience"?' 

9  Note  '  my  king]  not  my  father  :  he  had  to  avenge  a  crime  against 
the  state,  the  country,  himself  as  a  subject — not  merely  a  private  wrong. 


JO 


262 

245 

262 


252         THE    TR  AGED  IE    OF   HAMLET, 

Throwne  out  his  Angle  for  my  proper  life,1 
And  with  such  coozenage  ; 2  is't  not  perfect  con- 
science, conscience 

To  quit  him  with  this  arme  ? 4     And  is't  not  to  be 

damn'd  5 
To  let  this  Canker  of  our  nature  come 
In  further  euill.6 

Hor.  It  must  be  shortly  knowne  to  him  from 

England 
What  is  the  issue  of  the  businesse  there.7 

Ham.  It  will  be  short, 
The  interim's  mine,8  and  a  mans  life's  no  more9 
Then  to   say  one : 10  but    I    am  very  sorry    good 

Horatioy 
That  to  Laertes  I  forgot  my  selfe  ; 
For  by  the  image  of  my  Cause,  I  see 
The  Portraiture  of  his  ; ll  He  count  his  faudurs  : I2 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE. 


253 


1  Here  is  the  charge  at  length  in  full  against  the  king— of  quality 
and  proof  sufficient  now,  not  merely  to  justify,  but  to  compel  action 
against  him. 

2  He  was  such  a  fine  hypocrite  that  Hamlet,  although  he  hated  and 
distrusted  him,  was  perplexed  as  to  the  possibility  of  his  guilt.  His 
good  acting  was  almost  too  much  for  Hamlet  himself.  This  is  his 
'  coozenage.' 

After  '  coozenage '  should  come  a  dash,  bringing  '  — is't  not  perfect 
conscience '  (is  it  not  absolutely  righteous)  into  closest  sequence,  almost 
apposition,  with  '  Does  it  not  stand  me  now  upon — ' 

3  Here  comes  in  the  Quarto,  '■Enter  a  Courtier?  All  from  this  point  to 
1  Peace,  who  comes  heere  ? '  included,  is  in  addition  to  the  Quarto  text — 
not  in  the  Q.,  that  is. 

4  I  would  here  refer  my  student  to  the  soliloquy — with  its  sea  oj 
troubles,  and  the  taking  of  arms  against  it.     123,  n.  4. 

5  These  three  questions  :  'Does  it  not  stand  me  now  upon?' — 'Is't 
not  perfect  conscience  ? ' — '  Is't  not  to  be  damned  ? '  reveal  the  whole  re- 
lation between  the  inner  and  outer,  the  unseen  and  the  seen,  the  thinking 
and  the  acting  Hamlet.  '  Is  not  the  thing  right  ? — Is  it  not  my  duty  ? — 
Would  not  the  neglect  of  it  deserve  damnation  ? '     He  is  satisfied. 

6  '  is  it  not  a  thing  to  be  damned — to  let  &c.?'  or,  'would  it  not  be  to  be 
damned,  (to  be  in  a  state  of  damnation,  or,  to  bring  damnation  on  one- 
self) to  let  this  human  cancer,  the  king,  go  on  to  further  evil  ? ' 

7  '  — so  you  have  not  much  time.' 

8  '  True,  it  will  be  short,  but  till  then  is  mine,  and  will  be  long  enough 
for  me.'     He  is  resolved. 

9  Now  that  he  is  assured  of  what  is  right,  the  Shadow  that  waits  him 
on  the  path  to  it,  has  no  terror  for  him.  He  ceases  to  be  anxious  as  to 
'  what  dreams  may  come,'  as  to  the  '  something  after  death,'  as  to  '  the 
undiscovered  country,'  the  moment  his  conscience  is  satisfied.  120.  It 
cannot  now  make  a  coward  of  him.  It  was  never  in  regard  to  the  past  that 
Hamlet  dreaded  death,  but  in  regard  to  the  righteousness  of  the  action 
which  was  about  to  occasion  his  death.  Note  that  he  expects  death; 
at  least  he  has  long  made  up  his  mind  to  the  great  risk  of  it — the  death 
referred  to  in  the  soliloquy — which,  after  all,  was  not  that  which  did  over- 
take him.      There  is  nothing  about  suicide  here,  nor  was  there  there. 

10  '  a  man's  life  must  soon  be  over  anyhow.' 

11  The  approach  of  death  causes  him  to  think  of  and  regret  even  the 
small  wrongs  he  has  done  ;  he  laments  his  late  behaviour  to  Laertes,  and 
makes  excuse  for  him  :  the  similarity  of  their  condition,  each  having 
lost  a  father  by  violence,  ought,  he  says,  to  have  taught  him  gentleness 
with  him.     The  \st  Quarto  is  worth  comparing  here  : — 

Enter  Hamlet  and  Horatio 
Ham.  beleeue  mee,  it  greeues  mee  much  Horatio, 
That  to  Leartes  I  forgot  my  selfe  : 
For  by  my  selfe  me  thinkes  I  feele  his  griefe, 
Though  there's  a  difference  in  each  others  wrong. 

12  '  I  will  not  forget,'  or,  '  I  will  call  to  mind,  what  merits  he  has,'  or 
'  what  favours  he  has  shown  me.'     But  I  suspect  the  word  'count'  ought 


242',  262 


244 


254         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

But  sure  the  brauery  l  of  his  gricfe  did  put  me 
Into  a  Towring  passion.2 

Hor.  Peace,  who  comes  heere  ? 

Enter  young  Osricke?  co*?t£r 

Osr.  Your  Lordship  is  right  welcome  back  to   c<mr. 
Denmarke. 

Ham.  I  humbly  thank  you  Sir,  dost  know  this  humble  thank 
waterflie?4 

Hor.  No  my  good  Lord. 

Ham.  Thy  state  is  the  more  gracious  ;  for  'tis  a 
vice  to  know  him5 :  he  hath  much  Land,  and  fertile  ; 
let  a  Beast  be  Lord  of  Beasts,  and  his  Crib  shall 
stand  at  the  Kings  Messe  ; 6  'tis  a  Chowgh  7 ;  but 
as  I  saw  spacious  in  the  possession  of  dirt.8  as  1  say, 

Osr.  Sweet  Lord,  if   your  friendship 9  were  at   c<mr.  1 

1  Tiii-  1  •  r  1  •       Lordshippe* 

leysure,  I  should  impart  a  thing  to  you  from  his 
Maiesty. 

Ham,   I   will    receiue   it   with    all    diligence   of  it  sir  with 
spirit ;  put  your  Bonet  to  his  right  vse,  'tis  for  the  spirit,  your 
head. 

Osr.  I  thanke  your  Lordship,  'tis  very  hot.10         cour.  litis 

Ham.  No,  beleeue  mee  'tis  very  cold,  the  winde 
is  Northerly. 

Osr.   It  is  indifferent  cold  n  my  Lord  indeed.        conr. 

Ham.  Mee  thinkes  it  is  very  soultry,  and  hot  But  yet  me  | 

1-19  sully  and  hot, 

for  my  Complexion.  ormy 

Osr.  Exceedingly,  my  Lord,  it  is  very  soultry,  cour. 

as  'twere  I  cannot  tell  how  :    but  my   Lord,13  his  how :  my  Lord 

Maiesty  bad  me  signifie  to  you,  that  he  ha's  laid  a  that  a  had 
great  wager  on  your  head  :  Sir,  this  is  the  matter.14 
Ham.  I  beseech  you  remember.15 

Osr.  Nay,  in  good  faith,  for  mine  ease  in  good  conr.  Nay 

good  my  Lord 
for  my  ease 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  255 

to  be  court. — He  does  court  his  favour  when  next  they  meet — in  lovely- 
fashion.     He  has  no  suspicion  of  his  enmity. 

1  the  great  show  ;  bravado 

2  — with  which  fell  in  well  the  forms  of  his  pretended  madness.  But 
that  the  passion  was  real,  this  reaction  of  repentance  shows.  It  was  not 
the  first  time  his  pretence  had  given  him  liberty  to  ease  his  heart  with 
wild  words.  Jealous  of  the  boastfulness  of  Laertes'  affection,  he  began  at 
once — in  keeping  with  his  assumed  character  of  madman,  but  not  the 
less  in  harmony  with  his  feelings — to  outrave  him. 

3  One  of  the  sort  that  would  gather  to  such  a  king — of  the  same  kind 
as  Rosincrance  and  Guildensterne. 

In  the  1st  Q.     '■Enter  a  Br  agar t  Gentleman? 

4  — to  Horatio 


5  '  Thou  art  the  more  in  a  state  of  grace,  for  it  is  a  vice  to  know  him  : ' 


6  '  his  manger  shall  stand  where  the  king  is  served.'  Wealth  is  always 
received  by  Rank — Mammon  nowhere  better  worshipped  than  in  kings' 
courts. 

7  '  a  bird  of  the  crow-family ' — as  a  figure,  '  always  applied  to  rich 
and  avaricious  people?  A  chuff  is  a  surly  clown.  In  Scotch  a  coof  is 
\  a  silly,  dastardly  fellow.' 

8  land 

9  '  friendship'  is  better  than  '  Lordshippe,'  as  euphuistic. 


10  '  I  thanke  your  Lordship  ;  {puts  on  his  hat)  'tis  very  hot. 

11  '  rather  cold ' 

12  '  and  hot — for  my  temperament.' 

13  Not  able  to  go  on,  he  plunges  into  his  message. 

4  — takes  off  his  hat 
13  —making  a  sign  to  him  again  to  put  on  his  hat 


256         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

faith ! :  Sir,  *  you  are  not  ignorant  of  what  excellence 
Laertes  **  is  at  his  weapon.2  Laertes  is.2 

Ham.  What's  his  weapon?3 

Osr.  Rapier  and  dagger.  Cour 

Ham.  That's  two  of  his  weapons  ;  but  well. 

r  Cour.  The 

Osr.  The  sir  King   ha's   wag'd    with  him   six   King  sir  haA 

0  °  wagerd 

Barbary  Horses,  against  the  which  he  impon'd4  as  I   ]"ee  has, 

J  '      °  x  impaunu 

take   it,  sixe  French   Rapiers  and  Poniards,  with 


*  Here  171  the  Quarto : — 

1  here  is  newly  com  to  Court  Laertes,  belieue  me  an  absolute  gentle- 
men, ful  of  most  excellent  differences,2  of  very  soft  society,3  and  great 
234  showing4  .•  indeede  to  speake  sellingly5  of  him,  hee  is  the  card  or  kalender6 
of  gentry  :  for  you  shall  find  in  him  the  continent  of  what  part  a  Gentle- 
man would  see.7 
245  Ham.s  Sir,  his  definement  suffers  no  perdition9  in  you,  though  I 
know  to  deuide  him  inuentorially,10  would  dosie  "  th'arithmaticke  of 
memory,  and  yet  but  yaw12  neither  in  respect  of  his  quick  saile,  but  in 
the  veritie  of  extolment,  I  take  him  to  be  a  soule  of  great  article,13  & 
his  infusion14  of  such  dearth15  and  rarenesse,  as  to  make  true  dixion  of  him, 
his  semblable  is  his  mirrour,16  &  who  els  would  trace  him,  his  vm- 
brage,  nothing  more.17 

Cour.  Your  Lordship  speakes  most  infallibly  of  him.18 

Ha?n.  The  concernancy  19  sir,  why  doe  we  wrap  the  gentleman  in  our 
more  rawer  breath  ? 20 

Cour.  Sir.21 

Hora.  1st  not  possible  to  vnderstand  in  another  tongue,22  you  will 
too't  sir  really.23 

Ham.  What  imports  the  nomination  of  this  gentleman. 

Cour.  Of  Laertes?* 

Hora.  His  purse  is  empty  already,  all's  golden  words  are  spent. 

Ham.  Of  him  sir.25 

Cour.  I  know  you  are  not  ignorant.26 

Ham.  I  would  you  did  sir,  yet  in  faith  if  you  did,  it  would  not 
much  approoue  me,27  well  sir. 

Cour. 

*  *  Here  i?i  the  Quarto  : — 

Ham.  I  dare  not  confesse  that,  least  I  should  compare  with  him  in 
excellence,  but  to  know  a  man  wel,  were  to  knowe  himselfe.28 

Cour.  I  meane  sir  for  this  weapon,  but  in  the  imputation  laide  on 
him,29  by  them  in  his  meed,  hee's  vnfellowed.30 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARKE.  257 

1  '  in  good  faith,  it  is  not  for  manners,  but  for  my  comfort  I  take 
it  off.'  Perhaps  the  hat  was  intended  only  to  be  carried,  and  would  not 
really  go  on  his  head. 

2  The  Quarto  has  not  'at  his  weapon,'  which  is  inserted  to  take  the 
place  of  the  passage  omitted,  and  connect  the  edges  of  the  gap. 

3  So  far  from  having  envied  Laertes'  reputation  for  fencing,  as  the 
king  asserts,  Hamlet  seems  not  even  to  have  known  which  was  Laertes' 
weapon. 

4  laid  down — staked 


1  This  and  the  following  passages  seem  omitted  for  curtailment,  and  perhaps  in  part  be- 
cause they  were  less  amusing  when  the  fashion  of  euphuism  had  passed.  The  good  of  holding 
up  the  mirror  to  folly  was  gone  when  it  was  no  more  the  '  form  and  pressure '  of  '  the  very  age 
and  body  of  the  time.' 

,  2  of  great  variety  of  excellence 

3  gentle  manners 

*  fine  presence 

5  Is  this  a  stupid  attempt  at  wit  on  the  part  of  Osricke — '  to  praise  him  as  if  you  wanted  to 
sell  him'— stupid  because  it  acknowledges  exaggeration  ? 

6  '  the  chart  or  book  of  reference  '     234 

7  I  think  part  here  should  be  plural  ;  then  the  passage  would  paraphrase  thus  :-— '  you  shall 
find  in  him  the  sum  of  what  parts  {endowments)  a  gentleman  would  wish  to  see.' 

8  Hamlet  answers  the  fool  according  to  his  folly,  but  outdoes  him,  to  his  discomfiture. 

9  '  his  description  suffers  no  loss  in  your  mouth,' 

10  '  to  analyze  him  into  all  and  each  of-his  qualities,' 

11  dizzy 

12  '  and  yet  would  but  yaw  neither  '  Yaw,  '  the  movement  by  which  a  ship  deviates  from  the 
line  of  her  course  towards  the  right  or  left  in  steering.'  Falconer's  Marine  Dictionary.  The 
meaning  seems  to  be  that  the  inventorial  description  could  not  overtake  his  merits,  because  it 
would  yaw— keep  turning  out  of  the  direct  line  of  their  quick  sail.  But  Hamlet  is  set  on  using 
far-fetched  and  absurd  forms  and  phrases  to  the  non-plussing  of  Osricke,  nor  cares  much  to  be 
correct. 

13  I  take  this  use  of  the  word  article  to  be  merely  for  the  occasion  ;  it  was  never  surely  in 
use  for  substance. 

14  ' —  the  infusion  of  his  soul  into  his  body,'  '  his  soul's  embodiment  '  The  Sh.  Lex.  explains 
infusion  as  '  endowments,  qualities,'  and  it  may  be  right. 

15  scarcity 

16  ' — it  alone  can  show  his  likeness,' 

17  '  whoever  would  follow  in  his  footsteps— copy  him— is  only  his  shadow.' 
>8  Here  a  pause,  I  think. 

19  '  To  the  matter  in  hand  ! ' — recalling  the  attention  of  Osricke  to  the  purport  of  his  visit. 
-°  '  why  do  we  presume  to  talk  about  him  with  our  less  refined  breath  ? ' 

21  The  Courtier  is  now  thoroughly  bewildered. 

22  '  Can  you  only  speak  in  another  tongue?     Is  it  not  possible  to  understand  in  it  as  well? ' 

23  '  It  is  your  own  fault ;  you  will  court  your  fate  !  you  will  go  and  be  made  a  fool  of ! ' 

24  He  catches  at  the  word  he  understands.  The  actor  must  here  supply  the  meaning,  with 
the  baffled,  disconcerted  look  of  a  fool  who  has  failed  in  the  attempt  to  seem  knowing. 

25  — answering  the  Courtier. 

26  He  pauses,  looking  for  some  out-of-the-way  mode  wherein  to  continue.  Hamlet  takes 
him  up. 

27  '  your  witness  to  my  knowledge  would  not  be  of  much  avail.' 


28  Paraphrase  :  '  for  merely  to  know  a  man  well,  implies  that  you  yourself  know.'  To  know 
a  man  well,  you  must  know  his  knowledge  :  a  man,  to  judge  his  neighbour,  must  be  at  least  his 
equal. 

29  faculty  attributed  to  him 

30  Point  thus :  '  laide  on  him  by  them,  in  his  meed  hee's  vnfellowed.'— -'  in  his  merit  he  is  peer- 
less.' 


258  THE    TRAGEDIE    OF  HAMLET, 

their  assigncs,1  as  Girdle,  Hangers  or  so2:  three  of    hanger  and  to. 
the  Carriages  infaith  are  very  deare  to  fancy,3  very 
responsiue4  to  the   hilts,   most   delicate   carriages 
and  of  very  liberall  conceit.5 

Ham.  What  call  you  the  Carriages  ? 6 

* 

Osr.  The  Carriages  Sir,  are  the  hangers.  Cour.  The  car- 

riage 
Ham.  The  phrase  would  bee  more  Germaine7  to 

the  matter  :  If  we  could  carry  Cannon  by  our  sides  ;  carry  a  cannon 

I  would  it  might  be  Hangers  till  then  ;  but  on  sixe  it  be  |  then, 

but  on,  six 

Barbary  Horses  against  sixe  French  Swords :  their 
Assignes,    and  three  liberall  conceited  Carriages,8 
that's  the  French  but  against  the  Danish  ;  why  is  French  bet 
this  impon'd  as  you  call  it9  ?  this  ail  you9 

Osr.  The  King;  Sir,  hath  laid  that  in  a  dozen  Cour.  \  iayd 

0  sir,  that 

passes  betweene  you  and  him,  hee  shall  not  exceed  your  seife  and 
you  three  hits  ; 10  He  hath  one  twelue  for  mine,11  hathiaydon 

twelue  for  nine, 

and  that   would  come  to   imediate  tryall,  if  your  and  it  would 
Lordship  would  vouchsafe  the  Answere.12 

Ham.  How  if  I  answere  no  ?  13 

Osr.  I  meane  my  Lord,14  the  opposition  of  your  c<mr. 
person  in  tryall. 

Ham.  Sir,  I  will  walke  heere  in  the  Hall  ;  if  it 
please  his  Maiestie,  'tis  the  breathing  time  of  day  it  is 
with  me  M ;  let  the  Foyles  bee  brought,  the  Gentle- 
man willing,  and  the  King  hold  his  purpose  ;  I  will 
win  for  him  if  I  can  :  if  not,  He  gaine  nothing  but  Jim  and  1 1 
my  shame,  and  the  odde  hits.16 

Osr.  Shall  I  redeliuer  you  ee'n  so  ? 17  cour.  Shall  1 

dehuer  you  so  : 

Ham.  To  this  effect  Sir,  after  what  flourish  your 
nature  will. 

Osr.  I  commend  my  duty  to  your  Lordship.        conr. 
Ham.  Yours,  yours  18;  hee  does  well  to  commend  nam.  Yours 

doo'swell18 

it  himselfe,  there  are  no  tongues  else  for's  tongue,      turn*. 


*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

Hora.  I  knew  you  must  be  edified  by  the  margent '  ere  you   had 
done. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  250 

1  accompaniments  or  belongings  ;  things  assigned  to  them 

2  the  thongs  or  chains  attaching  the  sheath  of  a  weapon  to  the 
girdle  ;  what  the  weapon  hangs  by.  The  lar  so'  seems  to  indicate  that 
Osricke  regrets  having  used  the  old-fashioned  word,  which  he  immediately 
changes  for  carriages. 

■  imagination,  taste,  the  artistic  faculty 

4  '  corresponding  to — going  well  with  the  hilts,' — in  shape,  ornament, 
and  colour. 

5  bold  invention 

0  a  new  word,  unknown  to  Hamlet  ;— court-slang,  to  which  he  prefers 
the  old-fashioned,  homely  word. 
7  related  ;  'akin  to  the  matter' 


8  He  uses  Osricke's  words — with  a  touch  of  derision,  1  should  say. 

9  I  do  not  take  the  Quarto  reading  for    incorrect.     Hamlet  says  : 

1  why  is  this  all you  call  it  — ?  — ?'  as  if  he  wanted  to  use  the  word 

(Jmponed)  which  Osricke  had  used,  but  did  not  remember  it :  he  asks  for 
i  t,  saying  '•you  call  if  interrogatively. 

10  1st  Q 

that  yong  Leartes  in  twelue  venies  223 

At  Rapier  and  Dagger  do  not  get  three  oddes  of  you, 

11  In  all  printer's  work  errors  are  apt  to  come  in  clusters. 

1 2  the  response,  or  acceptance  of  the  challenge 

13  Hamlet  plays  with  the  word,  pretending  to  take  it  in  its  common 
meaning. 

14  *  By  answer,  I  mean,  my  lord,  the  opposition  &c.' 


15  c  my  time  for  exercise  : '  he  treats  the  proposal  as  the  trifle  it  seems 
— a  casual  affair  to  be  settled  at  once — hoping  perhaps  that  the  king  will 
come  with  like  carelessness. 

16  the  three 

17  To  Osricke  the  answer  seems  too  direct  and  unadorned  for  ears 
royal. 

18  I  cannot  help  here  preferring  the  Q.  If  we  take  the  Folio  reading, 
we  must  take  it  thus  :  '  Yours  !  yours  ! '  spoken  with  contempt; — '  as  if  you 
knew  anything  of  duty  ! ' — for  we  see  from  what  follows  that  he  is  playing 
with  the  word  duty.  Or  we  might  read  it,  '  Yours  commends  yours,'  with 
the  same  sense  as  the  reading  of  the  £>.,  which  is,  '  Yours,'  that  is,  '  Your 
lordship — does  well  to  commend  his  duty  himself — there  is  no  one  else 
to  do  it.'  This  former  shape  is  simpler;  that  of  the  Folio  is  burdened  with 
ellipsis— loaded  with  lack.  And  surely  turne  is  the  true  reading  !— though 
we  may  take  the  other  to  mean,  '  there  are  no  tongues  else  on  the  side 
of  his  tongue.' 

1  —as  of  the  Bible,  for  a  second  interpretative  word  or  phrase. 


26o        THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Hor.  This  Lapwing  runs  away  with  the  shell 
on  his  head.1 
98         Hani.  He  did  Complie  2  with  his  Dugge  before  //«>«.Adidsir2 
hee  suck't  it :  thus  had  he  and   mine   more  of  the  asucktlhashel 

many  more 

same  Beauy 8  that   I    know  the  drossie  age  dotes   same  breede 
on  ;  only  got  the  tune  4  of  the  time,  and  outward  ?nf  outf  ?f  an 

»  •         ■•/    o  »  habit  of5 

habite   of  encounter,5  a  kinde  of  yesty  collection,  histy 
which  carries  them  through  and  through  the  most 

fond  and  winnowed  opinions  ;  and  doe  but  blow  flowed*" 

them  to  their  tryalls  :  the  Bubbles  are  out.6  their  trbdl  the 

Hor.  You  will  lose  this  wager,  my  Lord.  loose  my  Lord. 
Ham.   I  doe  not  thinke  so,  since  he  went  into 
France,  I  haue  beene  in  continuall  practice  ;  I  shall 

265  winne  at  the  oddes  : 7  but  thou  wouldest  not  thinke  0ds;  thou 

how  all  heere  about   my  heart  : 8  but  it  is  no  mat-  how  ni  airs 

heere 

ter.9 

Hor.  Nay,  good  my  Lord. 

Ham.  It  is  but  foolery  ;  but  it  is  such  a  kinde 
of  gain-giuing 10  as  would  perhaps  trouble  a  woman,   gamgiuing, 

Hor.  If  your  minde  dislike  any  thing,  obey.11   obayit. 
I  will  forestall 12  their  repaire  hither,  and  say  you 
are  not  fit. 

Ham.  Not  a  whit,  we  defie  Augury  13;  there's  a  there  is  spedaii 
24,  125,  Specian  Prouidence  in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow.14     If 

*  Here  in  the  Quarto  : — 

Enter  a  Lord} 

Lord.  My  Lord,  his  Maiestie  commended  him  to  you  by  young 
Ostricke,2  who  brings  backe  to  him  that  you  attend  him  in  the  hall,  he 
sends  to  know  if  your  pleasure  hold  to  play  with  Laertes,  or  that  you  will 
take  longer  time  ? 3 

Ham.  I  am  constant  to  my  purposes,  they  followe  the  Kings  pleasure, 
if  his  fitnes  speakes,  mine  is  ready4:  now  or  whensoeuer,  prouided  I  be 
so  able  as  now. 

Lord.  The  King,  and  Queene,  and  all  are  comming  downe. 

Ham.  In  happy  time.5 

Lord.  The  Queene  desires  you  to  vse  some  gentle  entertainment6 
Laertes,  before  you  fall  to  play. 

Ham.  Shee  well  instructs  me. 


PRINCE  OF  DENMARKE. 


261 


1  '  Well,  he  is  a  young  one  ! ' 

2  '  Comply, '  with  accent  on  first  syllable  :  comply  with  means  pay 
compliments  to,  compliment.  See  Q.  reading  :  '  A  did  sir  with ' :— sir  here 
is  a  verb—  sir  with  means  say  sir  to  :  'he  sirred,  complied  with  his 
nurse's  breast  before  &c.'  Hamlet  speaks  in  mockery  of  the  affected 
court -modes  of  speech  and  address,  the  fashion  of  euphuism— a  mechani- 
cal attempt  at  the  poetic. 

3  a  flock  of  birds— suggested  by  '  This  Lapwing? 

4  '  the  mere  mode  ' 

5  '  and  external  custom  of  intercourse.'  But  here  too  I  rather  take 
the  Q.  to  be  right :  '  They  have  only  got  the  fashion  of  the  time  ;  and, 
out  of  a  habit  of  wordy  conflict,  (they  have  got)  a  collection  of  tricks  of 
speech, — a  yesty,  frothy  mass,  with  nothing  in  it,  which  carries  them  in 
triumph  through  the  most  foolish  and  fastidious  (nice,  choice,  punctilious, 
whimsical)  judgments.'  Yesty  I  take  to  be  right,  and  prophane  (vulgar) 
to  have  been  altered  by  the  Poet  to  fond  (foolish)  ;  of  trennowed  I  can 
make  nothing  beyond  a  misprint. 

6  Hamlet  had  just  blown  Osricke  to  his  trial  in  his  chosen  kind,  and 
the  bubble  had  burst.  The  braggart  gentleman  had  no  faculty  to  generate 
after  the  dominant  fashion,  no  invention  to  support  his  ambition — had  but 
a  yesty  collection,  which  failing  him  the  moment  something  unconven- 
tional was  wanted,  the  fool  had  to  look  a  discovered  fool. 

7  '  I  shall  win  by  the  odds  allowed  me  ;  he  will  not  exceed  me  three 
hits.' 

8  He  has  a  presentiment  of  what  is  coming. 

9  Nothing  in  this  world  is  of  much  consequence  to  him  now.  Also, 
he  believes  in  '  a  special  Providence.' 

10  '  a  yielding,  a  sinking'  at  the  heart  ?     The  Sh.  Lex.  says  misgiving. 

11  '  obey  the  warning.' 

13  'go  to  them  before  they  come  here' — l  prevent  their  coming.' 
13-The  knowledge,  even,  of  what  is  to  come  could  never,  any  more  than 

ordinary  expediency,  be  the  law  of  a  man's  conduct.  St.  Paul,  informed 
by  the  prophet  Agabus  of  the  troubles  that  awaited  him  at  Jerusalem, 
and  entreated  by  his  friends  not  to  go  thither,  believed  the  prophet,  and 
went  on  to  Jerusalem  to  be  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  Gentiles. 

14  One  of  Shakspere's  many  allusions  to  sayings  of  the  Lord. 


Osricke  does  not  come  back  :  he  has  begged  off— but  ventures  later,  under  the  wing  of  the 


king. 


2  May  not  this  form  of  the  name  suggest  that  in  it  is  intended  the  'foolish'  ostrich' 
The  king  is  making  delay  :  he  has  to  have  his  '  union '  ready, 
'if  he  feels  ready,  I  am.' 
1  They  are  well-come.' 

'  to  be  polite  to  Laertes.'    The  print  shows  where  to  has  slipped  out. 
The  queen  is  anxious  ;  she  distrusts  Laertes,  and  the  king's  influence  over  him. 


s62         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

it '  be  now,  'tis  not  to  come  :  if  it  bee  not  to  come,  b«i  & 
it  will  bee  now  :  if  it  be  not  now  ;  yet  it  will  come  ;  »t  well  come, 

man  of  on^lit 

54,164  the  readinesse  is  all,2   since  no  man  ha's  ought  of  Jjn^e;:lKU 
252  what  he  leaues.     What  is't  to  leaue  betimes  ? 3  S&5&1* 

Enter  King,  Queene,  Laertes  and  Lords,  with  other  fj$i££. 
Attendants  with  Foyles,  arid  Gauntlets,  a  Table  Pand officers 

.  with  cushion. 

and  Flagons  of  Wine  on  it.  King,  Queene, 

*  J  andalltlir 

state,  P'oiles, 

Kin.  Come  Hamlet   come,  and  take  this  hand  naggers,  and 

Laertes. 

from  me. 
245         Ham.^  Giue  me  your  pardon  Sir,  I'ue  done  you  1  bat* 
wrong,5 
But  pardon't  as  you  are  a  Gentleman. 
This  presence 6  knowes, 

And  you  must  needs  haue  heard  how  I  am  punisht 
With  sore  distraction  ? 7     What  I  haue  done  with  a  sore 

That  might  your  nature  honour,  and  exception 
142,  252   Roughly  awake,8 1  heere  proclaime  was  madnesse  :9 
Was't  Hamlet  wrong'd  Laertes  ?     Neuer  Hamlet. 
If  Hamlet  from  himselfe  be  tane  away  :  fane  away, 

And  when  he's  not  himselfe,  do's  wrong  Laertes, 
Then  Hamlet  does  it  not,  Hamlet  denies  it : 10 
Who  does  it  then  ?    His  Madnesse  ?    If't  be  so, 
Hamlet  is  of  the  Faction  that  is  wrong'd, 
His  madnesse  is  poore  Hamlets  Enemy.11 
Sir,  in  this  Audience,12 
Let  my  disclaiming  from  a  purpos'd  euill,13 
Free  me  so  farre  14  in  your  most  generous  thoughts, 
That  I  haue  shot  mine  Arrow  o're  the  house, 


And  hurt  my  Mother, 


my 

5  brother." 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  263 

1  'it' — death,  the  end  2  His  father  had  been  taken  unready.     54 

3  For  note  see  foot  of  page. 

4  Note  in  this  apology  the  sweetness  of  Hamlet's  nature.  How  few 
are  alive  enough,  that  is  unselfish  and  true  enough,  to  be  capable  of  gen- 
uine apology  !  The  low  nature  always  feels,  not  the  wrong,  but  the  con- 
fession of  it,  degrading. 

5  — the  wrong  of  his  rudeness  at  the  funeral  6  all  present 

7  — true  in  a  deeper  sense  than  they  would  understand. 

8  '  that  might  roughly  awake  your  nature,  honour,  and  exception,' : — 
consider  the  phrase — to  take  exception  at  a  thing. 

9  It  was  by  cause  of  madness,  not  by  cause  of  evil  intent.  For  all 
purpose  of  excuse  it  was  madness,  if  only  pretended  madness  ;  it  was 
there  of  another  necessity,  and  excused  offence  like  real  madness.  What 
he  said  was  true,  not  merely  expedient,  to  the  end  he  meant  it  to  serve. 
But  all  passion  may  be  called  madness,  because  therein  the  mind  is 
absorbed  with  one  idea  ;  '  anger  is  a  brief  madness,'  and  he  was  in  a 
•  towering  passion ' :  he  proclaims  it  madness  and  so  abjures  it. 

10  '  refuses  the  wrong  altogether — will  in  his  true  self  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it.'  No  evil  thing  comes  of  our  true  selves,  and  confession  is  the 
casting  of  it  from  us,  the  only  true  denial.  He  who  will  not  confess  a 
wrong,  holds  to  the  wrong. 

11  All  here  depends  on  the  expression  in  the  utterance. 

12  This  line  not  in  Q. 

13  This  is  Hamlet's  summing  up  of  the  whole — his  explanation  of  the 
speech. 

14  'so  far  as  this  in  your  generous  judgment— that  you  regard  me  as 
having  shot  &c.' 

15  Brother  is  much  easier  to  accept,  though  Mother  might  be  in  the 
simile. 

To  do  justice  to  the  speech  we  must  remember  that  Hamlet  has  no 
quarrel  whatever  with  Laertes,  that  he  has  expressed  admiration  of  him, 
and  that  he  is  inclined  to  love  him  for  Ophelia's  sake.  His  apology  has  no 
reference  to  the  fate  of  his  father  or  his  sister  ;  Hamlet  is  not  aware  that 
Laertes  associates  him  with  either,  and  plainly  the  public  did  not  know 
Hamlet  killed  Polonius  ;  while  Laertes  could  have  no  intention  of  alluding 
to  the  fact,  seeing  it  would  frustrate  his  scheme  of  treachery. 

3  Point :  '  all.  Since  '  ;  '  leaves,  what ' — '  Since  no  man  has  anything 
of  what  he  has  left,  those  who  left  it  late  are  in  the  same  position  as 
those  who  left  it  early.'  Compare  the  common  saying,  '  It  will  be  all  the 
same  in  a  hundred  years.'  The  Q.  reading  comes  much  to  the  same 
thing — '  knows  of  ought  he  leaves ' — '  has  any  knowledge  of  it,  anything 
to  do  with  it,  in  any  sense  possesses  it.' 

We  may  find  a  deeper  meaning  in  the  passage,  however — surely  not 
too  deep  for  Shakspere  ! — '  Since  nothing  can  be  truly  said  to  be 
possessed  as  his  own  which  a  man  must  at  one  time  or  another  yield ; 
since  that  which  is  own  can  never  be  taken  from  the  owner,  but  solely  that 
which  is  lent  him ;  since  the  nature  of  a  thing  that  has  to  be  left  is  not 
such  that  it  could  be  possessed,  why  should  a  man  mind  parting  with  it 
early  ?' — There  is  far  more  in  this  than  merely  that  at  the  end  of  the  day  it 


264         THE    TRAGED1E    OF    HAMLET, 


Laer.   I  am  satisfied  in  Nature,1 
Whose  motiue  in  this  case  should  stirre  me  most 
To  my  Reuenge.     But  in  my  termes  of  Honor 
I  stand  aloofe,  and  will  no  reconcilement, 
Till  by  some  elder  Masters  of  knowne  Honor, 
I  haue  a  voyce,  and  president  of  peace 
To  keepe  my  name  vngorg'd.2     But  till  that  time, 
I  do  receiue  your  offer'd  loue  like  loue, 
And  wil  not  wrong  it. 

Ham.   I  do  embrace  it  freely, 
And  will  this  Brothers  wager  frankely  play. 
Giue  vs  the  Foyles  :  Come  on.3 

Laer.  Come  one  for  me.4 

Ham.  He  be  your  foile  5  Laertes,  in  mine  ignor- 
ance, 
1 8  Your  Skill  shall  like  a  Starre  i'th'darkest  night,s 
Sticke  fiery  off  indeede. 

Laer.  You  mocke  me  Sir. 

Ham.  No  by  this  hand.7 

King.  Giue  them  the  Foyles  yong  Osricke* 
Cousen  Hamlet,  you  know  the  wager. 

Ham.  Verie  well  my  Lord, 
Your  Grace  hath  laide  the  oddes  a'th'weaker  side. 

King.  I  do  not  feare  it, 
I  haue  seene  you  both  : 9 
But  since  he  is  better'd,  we  haue  therefore  oddes.10 


To  ray  name 
vngord  :  but 
all  that 


I  embrace 


Ostricke, 


has 


better,  we 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  265 

will  be  all  the  same.  The  thing  that  ever  was  really  a  man's  own,  God  has 
given,  and  God  will  not,  and  man  cannot,  take  away.  Note  the  unity  of 
religion  and  philosophy  in  Hamlet  :  he  takes  the  one  true  position.  Note 
also  his  courage :  he  has  a  strong  presentiment  of  death,  but  will  not  turn 
a  step  from  his  way.  If  Death  be  coming,  he  will  confront  him.  He  does 
not  believe  in  chance.  He  is  ready — that  is  willing.  All  that  is  needful 
is,  that  he  should  not  go  as  one  who  cannot  help  it,  but  as  one  who  is 
for  God's  will,  who  chooses  that  will  as  his  own. 

There  is  so  much  behind  in  Shakspere's  characters — so  much  that  can 
only  be  hinted  at  !  The  dramatist  has  not  the  word-scope  of  the  novelist ; 
his  art  gives  him  little  room  ;  he  must  effect  in  a  phrase  what  the  other 
may  take  pages  to.  He  needs  good  seconding  by  his  actors  as  sorely  as 
the  composer  needs  good  rendering  of  his  music  by  the  orchestra.  It  is 
a  lesson  in  unity  that  the  greatest  art  can  least  work  alone ;  that  the 
greatest  finder  most  needs  the  help  of  others  to  show  his  findings.  The 
dramatist  has  live  men  and  women  for  the  very  instruments  of  his  art— 
who  must  not  be  mere  instruments,  but  fellow-workers  ;  and  upon  them 
he  is  greatly  dependent  for  final  outcome. 

Here  the  actor  should  show  a  marked  calmness  and  elevation  in 
Hamlet.  He  should  have  around  him  as  it  were  a  luminous  cloud,  the 
cloud  of  his  coming  end.  A  smile  not  all  of  this  world  should  close  the 
speech.     He  has  given  himself  up,  and  is  at  peace. 

1  For  note  see  foot  of  page. 

2  Perhaps  ungorg'd  might  mean  unthrottled. 

3  '  Come  on'  is  not  in  the  Q. — I  suspect  this  Come  on  but  a  misplaced 
shadow  from  the  iCome  one''  immediately  below,  and  better  omitted. 
Hamlet  could  not  say  '  Come  on  '  before  Laertes  was  ready,  and  '  Come  one,' 
after  '  Give  us  the  foils,'  would  be  very  awkward.  But  it  may  be  said  to 
the  attendant  courtiers. 

4  He  says  this  while  Hamlet  is  still  choosing,  in  order  that  a  second 
bundle  of  foils,  in  which  is  the  unbated  and  poisoned  one,  may  be 
brought  him.  So  'generous  and  free  from  all  contriving'  is  Hamlet,  (220) 
that,  even  with  the  presentiment  in  his  heart,  he  has  no  fear  of  treachery. 

5  As  persons  of  the  drama,  the  Poet  means  Laertes  to  be  foil  to 
Hamlet. — With  the  play  upon  the  word  before  us,  we  can  hardly  help 
thinking  of  the  third  signification  of  the  word  foil. 

6  '  My  ignorance  will  be  the  foil  of  darkest  night  to  the  burning  star 
of  your  skill.'  This  is  no  flattery  ;  Hamlet  believes  Laertes,  to  whose 
praises  he  has  listened  (218) — though  not  with  the  envy  his  uncle  attributes 
to  him— the  better  fencer  :  he  expects  to  win  only  '  at  the  odds.'  260 

7  — not  «  by  these  pickers  and  stealers]  his  oath  to  his  false  friends.  154 

8  Plainly  a  favourite  with  the  king. — He  is  Ostricke  always  in  the  Q. 
8  '  seen  you  both  play  ' — though  not  together. 

10  Point  thus : 

I  do  not  fear  it — I  have  seen  you  both  ! 
But  since,  he  is  bettered  :  we  have  therefore  odds. 
1  Since  ' — '  since  the  time  I  saw  him  ' 

1  ■  in  my  own  feelings  and  person.'  Laertes  does  not  refer  to  his  father 
or  sister.    He  professes  to  be  satisfied  in  his  heart  with  Hamlet's  apology 


266         THE    TRACED  IE    OF   HAMLET, 

Laer.  This  is  too  hcauy, 
Let  me  sec  another.1 

Ham.  This  likes  me  well, 
These  Foyles  haue  all  a  length.'2      Prepare  to  play? 

Osricke.  I  my  good  Lord.  ostr. 

King.  Set  me  the  Stopes  of  wine  vpon  that 
Table  : 
If  Hamlet  giue  the  first,  or  second  hit, 
Or  quit  in  answer  of  the  third  exchange,4 
Let  all  the  Battlements  their  Ordinance  fire, 
268   The  King  shal  drinke  to  Hamlets  better  breath, 

And  in  the  Cup  an  vnion  5  shal  he  throw  an  vnice 

Richer  then  that,6  which  foure  successiue  Kings 

In  Denmarkes  Crowne  haue  worne. 

Giue  me  the  Cups, 

And  let  the  Kettle  to  the  Trumpets  speake,  trumpet 

The  Trumpet  to  the  Cannoneer  without, 

The  Cannons  to  the  Heauens,  the  Heauen  to  Earth, 

Now  the  King  drinkes  to  Hamlet.     Come,  begin,      the  while. 

And  you  the  Iudges 7  beare  a  wary  eye. 

Ham.  Come  on  sir. 

Laer.  Come  on  sir.  They  play?  gj*«  n,y 

Ham.  One. 

Laer.  No. 

Ham.  Iudgement.9 

Osr.  A  hit,  a  very  palpable  hit. 


Ostrick. 


.  Dram,  trum- 

Laer.  Well :  againe.  pets  and  shot. 

0  f'lorish,  a 

King,  Stay,  giue  me  drinke.  *eece s°cs  o/r: 
Hamlet,  this  Pearle  is  thine, 
Here's  to  thy  health.     Giue  him  the  cup,10 

Trumpets  sound,  and  shot  goes  off.11 

Ham.  He  play  this  bout  first,  set  by  a-while.12  5etitby 
Come  :  Another  hit ;  what  say  you  ? 

Laer.  A  touch,  a  touch,  I  do  confesse.13  Lmer.  1  doc 

contest. 

King.  Our  Sonne  shall  win. 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKE.  267 

for  his  behaviour  at  the  funeral,  but  not  to  be  sure  whether  in  the  opinion 
of  others,  and  by  the  laws  of  honour,  he  can  accept  it  as  amends,  and  for- 
bear to  challenge  him.  But  the  words  '  Whose  motiue  in  this  case  should 
stirre  me  most  to  my  Reuenge '  may  refer  to  his  father  and  sister,  and,  if  so 
taken,  should  be  spoken  aside.  To  accept  apology  for  them  and  not  for 
his  honour  would  surely  be  too  barefaced  !  The  point  concerning  them 
has  not  been  started. 

But  why  not  receive  the  apology  as  quite  satisfactory  ?  That  he  would 
not  seems  to  show  a  lingering  regard  to  real  honour.  A  downright  villain, 
like  the  king,  would  have  pretended  its  thorough  acceptance — especially  as 
they  were  just  going  to  fence  like  friends  ;  but  he,  as  regards  his  honour, 
will  not  accept  it  until  justified  in  doing  so  by  the  opinion  of '  some  elder 
masters,'  receiving  from  them  'a  voice  and  precedent  of  peace' — counsel 
to,  and  justification,  or  example  of  peace.  He  keeps  the  door  of  quarrel 
open — will  not  profess  to  be  altogether  friends  with  him,  though  he  does 
not  hint  at  his  real  ground  of  offence :  that  mooted,  the  match  of  skill,  with 
its  immense  advantages  for  villainy,  would  have  been  impossible.  He 
means  treachery  all  the  time  ;  careful  of  his  honour,  he  can,  like  most 
apes  of  fashion,  let  his  honesty  go  ;  still,  so  complex  is  human  nature,  he 
holds  his  speech  declining  thorough  reconciliation  as  a  shield  to  shelter 
his  treachery  from  his  own  contempt :  he  has  taken  care  not  to  profess 
absolute  friendship,  and  so  left  room  for  absolute  villainy  !  He  has  had 
regard  to  his  word  !  Relieved  perhaps  by  the  demoniacal  quibble,  he 
follows  it  immediately  with  an  utterance  of  full-blown  perfidy. 

1  — to  make  it  look  as  if  he  were  choosing. 

2  — asked  in  an  offhand  way.  The  fencers  must  not  measure  weapons, 
because  how  then  could  the  unbated  point  escape  discovery  ?  It  is  quite 
like  Hamlet  to  take  even  Osricke's  word  for  their  equal  length. 

3  Not  in  Q. 

4  'or  be  quits  with  Laertes  the  third  bout'  : — in  any  case,  whatever 
the  probabilities,  even  if  Hamlet  be  wounded,  the  king,  who  has  not  per- 
fect confidence  in  the  'unction,'  will  fall  back  on  his  second  line  of  ambush 
— in  which  he  has  more  trust  :  he  will  drink  to  Hamlet,  when  Hamlet 
will  be  bound  to  drink  also. 

5  The  Latin  unio  was  a  large  pearl.  The  king's  union  I  take  to  be 
poison  made  up  like  a  pearl. 

6  — a  well-known  one  in  the  crown 

7  — of  whom  Osricke  was  one 

8  Not  in  Q. 

9  — appealing  to  the  judges. 

10  He  throws  in  the  pearl,  and  drinks—  for  it  will  take  some  moments 
to  dissolve  and  make  the  wine  poisonous — then  sends  the  cup  to  Hamlet. 

11  Not  in  Q. 

u  He  does  not  refuse  to  drink,  but  puts  it  by,  neither  showing  nor  en- 
tertaining suspicion,  fearing  only  the  effect  of  the  draught  on  his  play. 
He  is  bent  on  winning  the  wager — perhaps  with  further  intent. 

' 13  Laertes  has  little  interest  in  the  match,  but  much  in  his  own  play. 


268         THE     TRAGEDIE    OF    HAMLET, 

266  Qu.  He's  fat,  and  scant  of  breath.1 

Heere's  a  Napkin,  rub  thy  brovves,  take?/'"'"*' 

The  Queene  Carowses  to  thy  fortune,  Hamlet.  napkln 

Ham.  Good  Madam.2 

King.   Gertrude,  do  not  drinke. 

Qu.   I  will  my  Lord  ; 
I  pray  you  pardon  me.3 
222         King:  It  is  the  poyson'd  Cup,  it  is  too  late.4 

Ham.  I  dare  not  drinke  yet  Madam, 
By  and  by/' 

Qu.  Come,  let  me  wipe  thy  face.6 

Laer.  My  Lord,  He  hit  him  now. 

King.  I  do  not  thinke't. 

Laer.  And  yet  'tis  almost  'gainst  my  conscience.7  it  is  |  against 

Ham.  Come  for  the  third. 
Laertes,  you  but  dally,  you  doe  but 

I  pray  you  passe  with  your  best  violence, 
I  am  affear'd  you  make  a  wanton  of  me.8  1  am  sure  you 

Laer.  Say  you  so  ?  Come  on.  Play. 

Osr.  Nothing  neither  way.  o*r* 

Laer.  Haue  at  you  now.9 

In  scuffling  they  change  Rapiers™ 

King.  Part  them,  they  are  incens'd.11 

Ham.  Nay  come,  againe.12 

Osr.  Looke  to  the  Queene  there  hoa.  pstr.  \  there 

*  howe. 

Hor.  They  bleed  on  both  sides.     How  is't  my  is  it 
Lord  ? 

Osr.  How  is't  Laertes  ?  Ostr. 

Laer.  Why  as  a  Woodcocke  13 
To  mine  Sprindge,  Osricke,  s^indgT 

I  am  iustly  kill'd  with  mine  owne  Treacherie.14 

Ham.  How  does  the  Queene  ? 

King.  She  sounds 15  to  see  them  bleede. 

Qu.  No,  no,  the  drinke,  the  drinke  16 


mine  owne 

sprindge 

Ostrich. 


PRINCE    OF   BENMARKE.  269 

1  She  is  anxious  about  him.  It  may  be  that  this  speech,  and  that 
of  the  king  before  (266),  were  fitted  to  the  person  of  the  actor  who  first 
represented  Hamlet. 

2  —a  simple  acknowledgment  of  her  politeness :  he  can  no  more  be 
familiarly  loving  with  his  mother. 


3  She  drinks,  and  offers  the  cup  to  Hamlet. 

4  He  is  too  much  afraid  of  exposing  his  villainy  to  be  prompt  enough 
to  prevent  her. 

5  This  is  not  meant  by  the  Poet  to  show  suspicion  :  he  does  not  mean 
Hamlet  to  die  so. 

6  The  actor   should   not  allow  her  :    she  approaches    Hamlet  ;    he 
recoils  a  little. 


He  has  compunctions,  but  it  needs  failure  to  make  them  potent. 


8  '  treat  me  as  an  effeminate  creature.' 


9  He  makes  a  sudden  attack,  without  warning  of  the  fourth  bout. 

10  Not  in  Q. 

The  1st  Q.  directs  : — They  catch  one  another s  Rapiers,  and  both  are 
vuoimded,  &c. 

The  thing,  as  I  understand  it,  goes  thus  :  With  the  words  *  Have 
at  you  now ! '  Laertes  stabs  Hamlet ;  Hamlet,  apprised  thus  of  his 
treachery,  lays  hold  of  his  rapier,  wrenches  it  from  him,  and  stabs  him 
with  it  in  return. 

11  '  they  have  lost  their  temper.' 

13  — said  with  indignation  and  scorn,  but  without  suspicion  of  the 
worst. 

13  — the  proverbially  foolish  bird.  The  speech  must  be  spoken  with 
breaks.     Its  construction  is  broken. 

14  His  conscience  starts  up,  awake  and  strong,  at  the  approach  of 
Death.  As  the  show  of  the  world  withdraws,  the  realities  assert  them- 
selves. He  repents,  and  makes  confession  of  his  sin,  seeing  it  now  in 
its  true  nature,  and  calling  it  by  its  own  name.  It  is  a  compensation  of 
the  weakness  of  some  that  they  cannot  be  strong  in  wickedness.  The 
king  did  not  so  repent,  and  with  his  strength  was  the  more  to  blame. 

15  swonnds,  swoons 

16  She  is  true  to  her  son.     The  maternal  outlasts  the  adulterous. 


27o         THE    TRAGEDIE    OF   HAMLET, 

Oh  my  deere  Hamlet,  the  drinke,  the  drinke, 
I  am  poyson'd. 

Ham.  Oh  Villany  !    How  ?     Let  the  doore  be 
lock'd. 
Treacherie,  seeke  it  out1 

Laer.  It  is  heere  Hamlet? 
Hamlet?  thou  art  slaine, 
No  Medicine  in  the  world  can  do  thee  good. 
In  thee,  there  is  not  halfe  an  houre  of  life  ;  hour«Ufi 

The  Treacherous  Instrument  is  in  thy  hand,  « »y 

Vnbated  and  envenom'd  :  the  foule  practise 4 
Hath  turn'd  it  selfe  on  me.     Loe,  heere  I  lye, 
Neuer  to  rise  againe  :  Thy  Mothers  poyson'd  : 
I  can  no  more,  the  King,  the  King's  too  blame.5 

Ham.  The  point  envenom'd  too, 
Then  venome  to  thy  worke.6 

Hurts  the  King? 

All.  Treason,  Treason. 

King.  O  yet  defend  me  Friends,  I  am  but  hurt. 

Ham.  Heere  thou  incestuous,  murdrous,  Y^l%^on 

Damned  Dane, 

Drinke  off  this  Potion  :  Is  thy  Vnion  heere  ? 
Follow  my  Mother.8  King  Dyes? 

Laer.  He  is  iustly  seru'd. 
It  is  a  poyson  temp'red  by  himselfe  : 
Exchange  forgiuenesse  with  me,  Noble  Hamlet ; 
Mine  and  my  Fathers  death  come  not  vpon  thee, 
Nor  thine  on  me.10  Dyes.u 

Ham.  Heauen  make  thee  free  of  it,12  I  follow 
thee. 
I  am  dead  Horatio,  wretched  Queene  adiew. 
You  that  looke  pale,  and  tremble  at  this  chance, 
That  are  but  Mutes  13  or  audience  to  this  acte  : 
Had  I  but  time  (as  this  fell  Sergeant  death 
Is  strick'd  in  his  Arrest)  oh  I  could  tell  you. 


incestuous 
damned  Dane, 


of  this  |  is  the 
Onixe  heere  ? 


PRINCE    OF   DENMARKR.  271 


1  The  thing  must  be  ended  now.     The  door  must  be  locked,  to  keep 
all  in  that  are  in,  and  all  out  that  are  out.     Then  he  can  do  as  he  will. 


2  — laying  his  hand  on  his  heart,  I  think. 

3  In  Q.  Hamlet  only  once. 


4  scheme,  artifice,  deceitful  contrivance  ;  in  modern  slang,  dodge 


5  He  turns  on  the  prompter  of  his  sin — crowning  the  justice  of  the 
king's  capital  punishment. 

6  Point:  'too  !' 

\st  Q.  Then  venome  to  thy  venome,  die  damn'd  villaine  : 

7  Not  in  Quarto. 

The  true  moment,  now  only,  has  at  last  come.  Hamlet  has  lived 
to  do  his  duty  with  a  clear  conscience,  and  is  thereupon  permitted  to  go. 
The  man  who  asks  whether  this  be  poetic  justice  or  no,  is  unworthy  of 
an  answer.  '  The  Tragedie  of  Hamlet '  is  The  Drama  of  Moral  Perplexity. 


8  A  grim  play  on  the  word  Unio?i :  ' follow  my  mother\    It  suggests 
a  terrible  meeting  below. 

9  Not  in  Quarto. 


10  His  better  nature  triumphs.  The  moment  he  was  wounded,  knowing 
he  must  die,  he  began  to  change.  Defeat  is  a  mighty  aid  to  repentance  ; 
and  processes  grow  rapid  in  the  presence  of  Death  :  he  forgives  and 
desires  forgiveness. 

11  Not  in  Quarto. 

12  Note  how  heartily  Hamlet  pardons  the  wrong  done  to  himself— the 
only  wrong  of  course  which  a  man  has  to  pardon. 

'3  supernumeraries.  Note  the  other  figures  too — audience,  act— all 
of  the  theatre. 


272        THE    TRAGEDY    OF    HAMLET, 

But  let  it  be  :  Horatio,  I  am  dead, 

Thou  liu'st,  report  me  and  my  causes  right  cause  aright 

To  the  vnsatisfied.1 

Hor.  Neuer  beleeue  it. 
134   I  am  more  an  Antike  Roman  then  a  Dane  : 
!35   Heere's  yet  some  Liquor  left.2 

Ham.  As  th'art  a  man,  giue  me  the  Cup. 
Let  go,  by  Heauen  He  haue't.  hate, 

ii/i  ->ct   Oh  good  Horatio,  what  a  wounded  name,3  ogod 

JI4, -51  &  '  '  Horatio, 

(Things  standing  thus  vnknowne)  shall  Hue  behind   shall  1  leaue 

behind  DM  '.' 

me. 
If  thou  did'st  euer  hold  me  in  thy  heart, 
Absent  thee  from  felicitie  awhile, 
And  in  this  harsh  world  draw  thy  breath  in  paine,1   a  march  a 

J  l  farreoff. 

To  tell  my  Storie.4 

March  afarre  off,  and  shout  within:' 
What  warlike  noyse  is  this  ? 

Enter  Osricke. 

Osr.  Yong  Fortinbras,  with  conquest  come  from 
Poland 
To  th'Ambassadors  of  England  giues  rhis  warlike 
volly.6 
Ham.  O  I  dye  Horatio : 
The  potent  poyson  quite  ore-crowes  my  spirit, 
I  cannot  Hue  to  heare  the  Newes  from  England, 
62    But  I  do  prophesie 7  th'election  lights 
276  On  Fortinbras,  he  ha's  my  dying  voyce,8 

So  tell  him  with  the  occurrents  more  and  lesse,9         th' 
Which  haue  solicited.10  The  rest  is  silence.  0,o,o,o.n 

Dyes  n 
Hora.  Now  cracke  a  Noble  heart  :  cracks  a 

Goodnight  sweet  Prince, 
And  flights  of  Angels  sing  thee  to  thy  rest, 
Why  do's  the  Drumme  come  hither  ? 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  273 


1  His  care  over  his  reputation  with  the  people  is  princely,  and  casts 
a  true  light  on  his  delay.  No  good  man  can  be  willing  to  seem  bad, 
except  the  being  good  necessitates  it.  A  man  must  be  willing  to  appear 
a  villain  if  that  is  the  consequence  of  being  a  true  man,  but  he  cannot  be 
indifferent  to  that  appearance.  He  cannot  be  indifferent  to  wearing  the 
look  of  the  thing  he  hates.  Hamlet,  that  he  may  be  understood  by  the 
nation,  makes,  with  noble  confidence  in  his  friendship,  the  large  demand 
on  Horatio,  to  live  and  suffer  for  his  sake. 

2  Here  first  we  see  plainly  the  love  of  Horatio  for  Hamlet ;  here  first 
is  Hamlet's  judgment  of  Horatio  (134)  justified. 

3  — for  having  killed  his  uncle  : — what,  then,  if  he  had  slain  him  at 
once  ? 


4  Horatio  must  be  represented  as  here  giving  sign  of  assent. 

1st  Q.     Ham.     Vpon  my  loue  I  charge  thee  let  it  goe, 
O  fie  Horatio,  and  if  thou  shouldst  die, 
What  a  scandale  wouldst  thou  leaue  behinde  ? 
What  tongue  should  tell  the  story  of  our  deaths, 
If  not  from  thee  ? 

5  Not  in  Q. 


6  The  frame  is  closing  round  the  picture.    9 

7  Shakspere  more  than  once  or  twice  makes  the  dying  prophesy. 

8  His  last  thought  is  for  his  country;  his  last  effort  at  utterance  goes 
to  prevent  a  disputed  succession. 

9  '  greater  and  less  ' — as  in  the  psalm, 

•  The  Lord  preserves  all,  more  and  less, 
That  bear  to  him  a  loving  heart.' 

10  led  to  the  necessity. 

11  These  interjections  are  not  in  the  Quarto. 

12  Not  in  Q. 

All  Shakspere's  tragedies  suggest  that  no  action  ever  ends,  only  goes 
off  the  stage  of  the  world  on  to  another. 


274         THE    TRAGED2E    OF    HAMLET, 
190      Enter  Fortinbras  and  English  Ambassador,  with      Enter  Forte* 

I'rasse,  with 

Drumme,  Colours,  and  Attendants.  theEmbau* 

'  dors. 

Fortin.  Where  is  this  sight  ? 

Hor.  What  is  it  ye  would  see  ;  you 

If  ought  of  woe,  or  wonder,  cease  your  search.1 

For.  His  quarry 2  cries  on  hauocke.3     Oh  proud   Thisquarry 
death, 
What  feast  is  toward  4  in  thine  eternall  Cell. 
That  thou  so  many  Princes,  at  a  shoote,  *w 

So  bloodily  hast  strooke.5 

Amb.  The  sight  is  dismall, 
And  our  affaires  from  England  come  too  late, 
The  eares  are  senselesse  that  should  giue  vs  hearing, G 
To  tell  him  his  command'ment  is  fulfill'd, 
That  Rosincrance  and  Guildensteme  are  dead  : 
Where  should  we  haue  our  thankes  ? 7 

Hor.  Not  from  his  mouth,8 
Had  it 9  th'abilitie  of  life  to  thanke  you  : 
He  neuer  gaue  command'ment  for  their  death. 
6  But  since  so  iumpe  10  vpon  this  bloodie  question,11 
You  from  the  Polake  warres,  and  you  from  England 
Are  heere  arriued.     Giue  order 12  that  these  bodies 
High  on  a  stage  be  placed  to  the  view, 
And  let  me  speake  to  th'yet  vnknowing  world,  ,  to  yet 

How  these  things  came  about.     So  shall  you  heare 
Of  carnall,  bloudie,  and  vnnaturall  acts,13 
Of  accidentall  iudgements,14  casuall  slaughters15 
Of  death's  put  on  by  cunning,16  and  forc'd  cause,17    deaths  land 

ior  no  cause 

And  in  this  vpshot,  purposes  mistooke,18 

Falne  on  the  Inuentors  heads.     All  this  can  I  th* 

Truly  deliuer. 

For.  Let  vs  hast  to  heare  it, 
And  call  the  Noblest  to  the  Audience. 
For  me,  with  sorrow,  I  embrace  my  Fortune, 
I  haue  some  Rites  of  memory  10  in  this  Kingdome,   rights  of 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  275 


1  — for  here  it  is. 

2  the  heap  of  game  after  a  hunt 

8  '  Havoc's  victims  cry  out  against  him.' 


in  preparation 

All  the  real  actors  in  the  tragedy,  except  Horatio,  are  dead. 


6  This  line  may  be  taken  as  a  parenthesis  ;  then — '  come  too  late ' 
joins  itself  with  '  to  tell  him.'  Or  we  may  connect  '  hearing '  with  '  to  tell 
him ' : — '  the  ears  that  should  give  us  hearing  in  order  that  we  might  tell 
him '  etc. 

7  They  thus  inquire  after  the  successor  of  Claudius. 

8  — the  mouth  of  Claudius 

9  — even  if  it  had 

10  '  so  exactly,'  or  '  immediately  ' — perhaps  opportunely— fittingly 

11  dispute,  strife 

12  — addressed  to  Fortinbras,  I  should  say.  The  state  is  disrupt,  the 
household  in  disorder  ;  there  is  no  head  ;  Horatio  turns  therefore  to 
Fortinbras,  who,  besides  having  a  claim  to  the  crown,  and  being  favoured 
by  Hamlet,  alone  has  power  at  the  moment — for  his  army  is  with  him. 

13  —those  of  Claudius 

14  'just  judgments  brought  about  by  accident' — as  in  the  case  of  all 
slain  except  the  king,  whose  judgment  was  not  accidental,  and  Hamlet, 
whose  death  was  not  a  judgment. 

15  — those  of  the  queen,  Polonius,  and  Ophelia 

16  '  put  on,'  indued,  '  brought  on  themselves  ' — those  of  Rosincrance, 
Guildensterne,  and  Laertes 

17  — those  of  the  king  and  Polonius 

18  'and  in  this  result  '-—pointing  to  the  bodies-*  purposes  which 
have  mistaken  their  way,  and  fallen  on  the  inventors'  heads.'  /  am 
mistaken  or  mistook,  means  /  have  mistaken  ;  '  purposes  mistooke ' — 
purposes  in  themselves  mistaken  : — that  of  Laertes,  which  came  back  on 
himself;  and  that  of  the  king  in  the  matter  of  the  poison,  which,  by  fall- 
ing on  the  queen,  also  came  back  on  the  inventor. 

19  The  Quarto  is  correct  here,  I  think  :  '  rights  of  the  past ' — '  claims 
of  descent.'  Or  '  rights  of  memory '  might  mean — '  rights  yet  remembered? 

Fortinbras  is  not  one  to  miss  a  chance  :  even  in  this  shadowy  'per- 
son,' character  is  recognizably  maintained. 


276         THE    TRAGED1E    OE    HAM  LET. 
Which  are  to  claime,1  my  vantage  doth  which  now  m 

clailM 

Inuite  me, 

Hor.  Of  that  I  shall  haue  alwayes2   cause   to  haue  also 

cause  A 

speakc, 
And  from  his  mouth 
272  Whose  voyce  will  draw  on  more  :3  drawenomore, 

But  let  this  same  be  presently  perform 'd, 
Euen  whiles  mens  mindes  are  wilde,  while 

Lest  more  mischance 
On  plots,  and  errors  happen.4 
For.  Let  foure  Captaines 
Beare  Hamlet  like  a  Soldier  to  the  Stage, 
For  he  was  likely,  had  he  beene  put  on  5 
To  haue  prou'd  most  royally  : 6  royaii ; 

And  for  his  passage,7 

The  Souldiours  Musicke,  and  the  rites  of  Warre  8      right  of 
Speake  9  lowdly  for  him. 

Take  vp  the  body  ;  Such  a  sight  as  this  bodies, 

Becomes  the  Field,  but  heere  shewes  much  amis. 
Go,  bid  the  Souldiers  shoote.10 

Exeunt  Marching;  after  the  which,  a  Peale  Exeunt. 
of  Ordenance  are  shot  off. 


F  I  N  I  s. 


PRINCE    OF  DENMARKE.  277 

1  '  which  must  now  be  claimed  '—except  the  Quarto  be  right  here 
also. 

9  The  Quarto  surely  is  right  here. 

3  — Hamlet's  mouth.  The  message  he  entrusted  to  Horatio  for  Fort- 
inbras,  giving  his  voice,  or  vote,  for  him,  was  sure  to  '  draw  on  more ' 
voices. 

4  *  lest  more  mischance  happen  in  like  manner,  through  plots  and 
mistakes.' 

5  '  had  he  been  put  forward ' — had  occasion  sent  him  out 

6  '  to  have  proved  a  most  royal  soldier : ' — A  soldier  gives  here  his  testi- 
mony to  Hamlet's  likelihood  in  the  soldier's  calling.  Note  the  kind  of 
regard  in  which  the  Poet  would  show  him  held. 

7  — the  passage  of  his  spirit  to  its  place 

8  — military  mourning  or  funeral  rites 

9  imperative  mood',  'let  the  soldier's  music  and  the  rites  of  war  speak 
loudly  for  him.'  '  Go,  bid  the  souldiers  shoote,'  with  which  the  drama 
closes,  is  a  more  definite  initiatory  order  to  the  same  effect. 

10  The  end  is  a  half-line  after  a  riming  couplet — as  if  there  were  more 
to  come— as  there  must  be  after  every  tragedy.  Mere  poetic  justice  will 
not  satisfy  Shakspere  in  a  tragedy,  for  tragedy  is  life ;  in  a  comedy  it 
may  do  well  enough,  for  that  deals  but  with  life-surfaces — and  who 
then  more  careful  of  it !  but  in  tragedy  something  far  higher  ought  to  be 
aimed  at.  The  end  of  this  drama  is  reached  when  Hamlet,  having 
attained  the  possibility  of  doing  so,  performs  his  work  in  righteousness. 
The  common  critical  mind  would  have  him  left  the  fatherless,  motherless, 
loverless,  almost  friendless  king  of  a  justifiably  distrusting  nation — with 
an  eternal  grief  for  his  father  weighing  him  down  to  the  abyss  ;  with  his 
mother's  sin  blackening  for  him  all  womankind,  and  blasting  the  face  of 
both  heaven  and  earth  ;  and  with  the  knowledge  in  his  heart  that  he  had 
sent  the  woman  he  loved,  with  her  father  and  her  brother,  out  of  the  world 
— maniac,  spy,  and  traitor.  Instead  of  according  him  such  '  poetic  justice,' 
the  Poet  gives  Hamlet  the  only  true  success  of  doing  his  duty  to  the 
end — for  it  was  as  much  his  duty  not  to  act  before,  as  it  was  his  duty  to 
act  at  last — then  sends  him  after  his  Ophelia — into  a  world  where  true 
heart  will  find  true  way  of  setting  right  what  is  wrong,  and  of  atoning  for 
every  ill,  wittingly  or  unwittingly  done  or  occasioned  in  this. 

It  seems  to  me  most  admirable  that  Hamlet,  being  so  great,  is  yet 
outwardly  so  like  other  people  :  the  Poet  never  obtrudes  his  greatness. 
And  just  because  he  is  modest,  confessing  weakness  and  perplexity,  small 
people  take  him  for  yet  smaller  than  themselves  who  never  confess 
anything,  and  seldom  feel  anything  amiss  with  them.  Such  will  adduce 
even  Hamlet's  disparagement  of  himself  to  Ophelia  when  overwhelmed 
with  a  sense  of  human  worthlessness  (126),  as  proof  that  he  was  no 
hero  !  They  call  it  weakness  that  he  would  not,  foolishly  and  selfishly, 
make  good  his  succession  against  the  king,  regardless  of  the  law  of  elec- 
tion, and  careless  of  the  weal  of  the  kingdom  for  which  he  shows  himself 
so  anxious  even  in  the  throes  of  death  !  To  my  mind  he  is  the  grandest 
hero  in  fiction — absolutely  human — so  troubled,  yet  so  true  ! 


LONDON   :      PKINTED     BY 

SPOTTISWOODE     AND     CO.,      NEW-STREET     SQUARE 

AND      PARLIAMENT     STREET 


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PR  2807  .A2  M3  1885  SMC 
Shakespeare.  William, 
The  tragedie  of  Hamlet, 
Prince  of  Denmarke  47081071 


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