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 atljata. Sfjui fork 
 

 CAYLORD 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S A. 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 PR 2807.G46 
 
 The true story of Hamlet and Ophelia, 
 
 3 1924 013 137 728 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013137728 
 
THE TRUE STORY 
 
 HAMLET AND OPHELIA 
 
THE TRUE STORY 
 
 OF 
 
 HAMLET AND OPHELIA 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERICKA BEARDSLEY GILCHRIST 
 
 "And let me speak to the yet unknowing world 
 How these things came about: so shall you hear 
 Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, 
 Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters,'" 
 Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause. 
 And, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
 Fall'n on the inventors' heads : all this can I 
 Truly deliver " 
 
 BOSTON . 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 1889 
 
y^-iy^^ 
 
 Copyright, 1889 
 By Little, Brown, and Company 
 
 Presswork by 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge 
 
THE TRUE STORY 
 
 OF 
 
 HAMLET AND OPHELIA 
 
 I. 
 
 It is possible to form a conception of an intelli- 
 gent, intellectual, educated man to whom the Trag- 
 edy of Hamlet is unknown, to whom the name Ham- 
 let conveys no idea; and until a critic places himself 
 in the condition of impartiality and lack of preju- 
 dice in which this imaginary man would be, he is 
 not perfectly fitted to judge of Shakespeare's greatest 
 play. The conceptions and misconceptions imposed 
 on him by actors and commentators must warp his 
 judgment and control his understanding. 
 
 It is asserted that Hamlet is a study for the closet, 
 rather than a drama to be presented on the stage; 
 and the authority for the assertion is the play itself, 
 with its difficulties of stage interpretation. True it 
 is, that our imaginary man, who had never heard of 
 the Tragedy, would conclude that Booth's, or Bar- 
 rett's, or Irving's, or Fechter's adaptation is not a 
 coherent, self-explanatory dramatic work ; its pres- 
 entation would seem to him only a series of scarcely 
 connected tableaux vivants, with fragments of de- 
 scriptive dialogue. But none of these adaptations, 
 
2 THE JRUE STORY OF 
 
 nor any other," is Shakespeare's play. In every 
 adaptation Shakespeare's text is wofully cut, and 
 Shakespeare's meaning, in that which is retained, is 
 wofully misrepresented in the acting. 
 
 It will be conceded that a perfect dramatic work, 
 while it may admit of and reward deep study, should 
 not require it in order to be intelligible. It is not 
 expected that an auditor will need to listen many 
 times to the repetition of any play, before he can 
 comprehend its meaning. Special passages are not 
 repeated, and special metaphysical questions are not 
 weighed, during the representation of a drama. The 
 lines as spoken by the actors — spoken once — should 
 be all that is required to acquaint a hearer with 
 every thing it concerns him to know of the fortunes 
 or misfortunes of the dramatis persona. It seems to 
 me that in Shakespeare's Hamlet, properly inter- 
 preted, this information is furnished to the audience ; 
 but many years of misrepresentation have unfortu- 
 nately overlaid the story with the actors' and com- 
 mentators' veneer, and the student who now desires 
 to make an impartial study of Hamlet, and to dis- 
 cover what this information really is, must, as I said 
 before, first place himself, so far as possible, in the 
 condition of the imaginary man who has never 
 heard of the play. He must discharge his mind of 
 all ideas concerning it; he must be ready to believe 
 that Shakespeare's text contains all the material 
 needed to make the play intelligible, and he must 
 seek for the meaning of the text, without consider- 
 ing what this or that commentator thinks about it. 
 At the same time he must remember that the play- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 3 
 
 goers of Shakespeare's day probably comprehended 
 the drama perfectly ; for they possessed a help to its 
 understanding which we have not — the actors who 
 played it knew what Shakespeare meant them to 
 portray. This the modern student must discover 
 for himself, remembering always that the text, unless 
 it has been hopelessly distorted, is subject to the 
 same interpretation now as then. 
 
 We have reason to believe that this play was un- 
 derstood as well as loved by those who heard it 
 during its author's lifetime and for many years 
 after. Its publication at least four times before 
 Shakespeare's death — four times in eight years — 
 indicates that the tragedy was popular; and we 
 know that it was republished, time after time, in es- 
 sentially the same words in which it has come down 
 to us. If these words, in the judgment of the play- 
 goers of Shakespeare's day, had hopelessly involved 
 the story, is it not probable that its author would 
 have been appealed to, to make his meaning clear? 
 Would not some edition contain explanatory altera- 
 tions? No such edition has been discovered ; even 
 the Folio of 1623, which leaves out of Hamlet vad^ny 
 lines found in earlier editions, does not, in its few 
 new passages, cast any light on the alleged obscuri- 
 ties of the play. 
 
 To make an intelligent, independent study of 
 Hamlet now, there is needed, in addition to a mod- 
 ern edition of Hamlet, copies of the First and Sec- 
 ond Quartos, of the First Folio, and of The Hystorie 
 of Hamblet ; these, I think, may be considered orig- 
 inal documents. The Hamlet of to-day is not a 
 
6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 and copies of these can be procured with h'ttle 
 trouble. 
 
 The Duke of Devonshire bought one of the copies 
 of the First Quarto and one of the copies of the 
 Second Quarto: these two Quartos were, in i860, 
 reprinted with scrupulous exactness by Josiah Allen, 
 Jr., under the supervision of Samuel Timmins. 
 "The two texts [are] printed on opposite pages, 
 and so arranged that the parallel passages face each 
 other." This reprint is variously known as "The 
 Devonshire Hamlets," "Timmins's Reprint," or 
 "Allen's Reprint." 
 
 From the First Folio several Reprints of Hamlet 
 have been made. Among these are Stratmann's 
 Reprint of Hamlet from the First Folio, collated 
 with all the editions up to 1637 (in this, however, 
 there are many errors) ; and Ludlow's Reprint. 
 
 But I think there is still another authority that 
 the impartial student must consult. He must exam- 
 ine the raw material from part of which Shakespeare 
 elaborated the play. 
 
 The Hystorie of Hamblet is the story on which 
 the play of Hamlet is founded. The first known 
 English publication of the Hystorie was made in 
 1608, four years after the publication of the Second 
 Quarto. The story, derived, as is supposed, from an 
 old Danish historian, Saxo Grammaticus, was earlier 
 translated into French : this French translation 
 appeared in 1570. For reasons that seem plausi- 
 ble, Shakespearean scholars believe that the transla^ 
 tion into English was not made until after the 
 play of Hamlet appeared, but they go further than 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 7 
 
 this, and say that Shakespeare never read the novel. 
 If this were so, we should not need to consider its 
 influence on the play. 
 
 The Hamblet whom Belleforest, the French trans- 
 lator, depicts in the Hystorie, was a youth not fully 
 grown, who pretended to be mad in order to pre- 
 serve his life until he should be old enough to kill 
 the uncle who had murdered his father and 
 debauched his mother, — until he should be old 
 enough to justify his conduct to the Danes. This 
 youth was patient, self-controlling, conscientious, 
 absolutely truthful, faithful in friendship, intel- 
 lectually active, and philosophical, but melancholy, 
 believing in the supernatural to the extent of think- 
 ing that the devil has power to inform mankind of 
 things past. 
 
 We readily perceive that these are the character- 
 istics that Shakespeare's young prince displays, and 
 we shall be forced to admit that Shakespeare took 
 Hamblet exactly as he found him, and carried him 
 from the sixth century to the seventeenth, modify- 
 ing only the manifestations of his pretended mad- 
 ness to make them pleasing to the age in which he 
 placed him. We must also allow that he repre- 
 sented all the other personages whom he took from 
 the //yj/isirzV exactly as they are represented there, — 
 that is, as to their characters and possibilities of 
 action. 
 
 In the preface to Rienzi Bulwer says, " Nay, even 
 in the more imaginative plays, which he [Shakes- 
 peare] has founded on novels and legends popular 
 in his time, it is curious and instructive to see how 
 
8 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 little he has altered the original groundwork,— tak- 
 ing for granted the main materials for the story, 
 and reserving all his matchless resources of wisdom 
 and invention to illustrate from mental analysis the 
 creations whose outlines he was content to borrow. 
 He receives as a literal fact, not to be altered, the 
 somewhat incredible assertion of the novelist, that 
 the pure and delicate and high-born Venetian loves 
 the swarthy Moor,— and that Romeo, fresh from his 
 woes for Rosaline, becomes suddenly enamoured of 
 Juliet : he found the Improbable and employed his 
 art to make it truthful." 
 
 Shakespeare found the Improbable in the first 
 chapters of the Hystorie of Hamblet, but what he 
 found he seems to have preserved. All the charac- 
 ters of the play, except Laertes and Fortinbras, are 
 found in the old Hystorie, some only suggested, it is 
 true; but, like a modern naturalist, who from a fossil 
 bone or tooth can reconstruct an extinct animal, so 
 Shakespeare, from a hint, a line, could re-create 
 a character and divine all its thoughts and actions. 
 Shakespeare took the old novel and preserved it as 
 it was, except the end, which he reconstructed. 
 He amplified the story and changed it from narra- 
 tive to dialogue, and this is the reason so few of the 
 literal expressions of the Hystorie are found in the 
 play. This, however, is not a reason assigned by 
 Shakespearean scholars, the majority of whom, while 
 they admit that the play of Hamlet is founded on 
 the Hystorie of Hamblet, assert that Shakespeare 
 never saw the novel, but that his knowledge of the 
 story came only from the old play, which they 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 9 
 
 believe Shakespeare re-wrote and transmuted from 
 base metal into gold. They think the Hystorie 
 of very little importance, valuing it only because it 
 furnished the motive for the first play. On this 
 subject — the debt Shakespeare owes to the Hys- 
 torie — Furness says, " the curious student with the 
 Reprint [of the Hystorie] at hand, can misspend 
 what time he pleases, and make his own con- 
 clusions." 
 
 Whether Shakespeare was, or was not, familiar 
 with the novel, it is admitted that on it the first 
 play was founded ; if he- did not get his material 
 directly from the story, he got it at second-hand 
 from the play : but why may he not have seen the 
 French translation that appeared in 1570, or even 
 an earlier translation into English from Saxo Gram- 
 maticus? It appears that only one copy of the 
 Hystorie of 1608 has been preserved. This was 
 owned by Collier, who reprinted it in 1842 in the 
 first volume of his Shakespeare' s Library. No copy 
 of an earlier edition has been discovered, but it is 
 believed that others may have been published. 
 
 Careful consideration must surely cause the stu- 
 dent to feel that the influence of the Hystorie has 
 been very much underrated ; for study and com- 
 parison make it almpst certain that Shakespeare had 
 it before him, in some form, when he arranged the 
 Quarto of 1604. 
 
 Observe the genesis of one passage : In the Hys- 
 torie, p. 308, we find these lines : 
 
 Hamlet, while his father liued had been instructed in that 
 deuilish art, whereby the wicked spirite abuseth mankind, and 
 
10 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 aduertiseth him (as he can) of things past. It toucheth not the 
 matter herein to discouerthe parts of deuination in man, and 
 whether this prince, by reason of his ouer great melancholy, had 
 received those impressions, etc. 
 
 In the Quarto of 1603 the passage derived from 
 
 these lines is : 
 
 This fpirit that I haue feene may be the Diuell, 
 And out of my weakeneffe and my melancholy. 
 As he is very potent with fuch men, 
 Doth (eeke to damne me. 
 
 In the Quarto of 1604 it is : 
 
 The fpirit that I have feene 
 May be a deale, and the deale hath power 
 T'affume a pleating fhape, yea, and perhaps. 
 Out of my weakenes, and my melancholy. 
 As he is very potent with fuch fpirits, 
 Abufes me to damne me. 
 
 The use of the word "abuses" — of which the 
 French is abuser — in the Quarto of 1604, indicates 
 either that Shakespeare had the Hystorie before him 
 when he wrote, or that the older play, if there were 
 one, presented the word in a paraphrase of this pas- 
 sage. Probably the former was the case. A pas- 
 sage that confirms this belief is found only in the 
 Quarto of 1604; there is nothing corresponding to it 
 in the earlier Quarto. The lines are these : 
 
 let it worke. 
 For tis the fport to haue the enginer 
 Hoift with his owne petar, an't fhall goe hard 
 But I will delue one yard belowe their mines, 
 And blowe them at the Moone. 
 
 The germ of this passage is on p. 305 of the Hys- 
 torie, and in the same relative position as in the 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. ii 
 
 play, — namely, at the end of Hamlet's exhortation to 
 his mother. It reads: 
 
 I shall not dye, without reuenging my selfe vpon mine 
 enemie, and that hiraselfe shall be the instrument of his owne 
 decay, and to execute that which of my selfe I durst not haue 
 enterprised. 
 
 There are many other passages, several of which 
 are designated later, that point directly to the Hys- 
 torie as the source of the Quarto of 1604. Every sen- 
 timent expressed by Hamblet to his mother in the 
 Hystorie, Shakespeare has transferred to his Hamlet, 
 although, in the play, not all of them are addressed 
 to Gertrude. I believe that an acquaintance with 
 the old Hystorie is a great and necessary aid to a 
 thorough comprehension of the play (since it has 
 been so obscured by commentators) ; and therefore 
 I have inserted in this volume a reprint of the first 
 English translation of the Hystorie of Hamblet. It 
 is reprinted from Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Library, 
 part I, vol. ii. (1875). 
 
 A student who has at hand this Hystorie of Ham- 
 blet, and copies of the First and Second Quartos, and 
 the First Folio, as well as a modern edition of Ham- 
 let, is ready to follow intelligently the succeeding 
 exposition of the play. The modern edition from 
 which the quotations needed for it have been made 
 is the Globe edition of the Cambridge Shakespeare, 
 prepared by Wright and Clark. 
 
II. 
 
 The first words uttered by Hamlet after the ghost 
 reveals the dreadful story of his mother's adultery 
 with Claudius, and his father's murder by him — 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
 And shall I couple hell ? — 
 
 are not to be found in the Actor's Edition, and, in 
 dramatic representation, they are usually altered or 
 entirely omitted. The succeeding words — 
 
 O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart. 
 And you, my sinews, grow not instant old. 
 But bear me stiffly up — 
 
 are sometimes given, but not always. Actors cut 
 this Second Soliloquy according to their individual 
 fancy, omitting and retaining what they please. 
 
 There must be some reason for this omission, 
 other than the length of the drama. We should 
 expect the whole of this soliloquy to be given, 
 because the revelation of the ghost, and its influence 
 on Hamlet afford the whole motive for his future 
 conduct in the play. It would seem natural to 
 expose to the audience, as clearly as possible, every 
 operation of Hamlet's mind, immediately after he 
 receives a command that, in its fulfillment, results 
 in the immolation of all but one of the principal 
 characters in the Tragedy. That this soliloquy is 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 13 
 
 omitted, or cut short, is an indication either that its 
 importance is not appreciated, or that it contains 
 inherent difficulties of presentation that an actor 
 cannot overcome. I believe both reasons are 
 operative in suppressing it, and that they both result 
 from a mistake in punctuating the second line of the 
 soliloquy, — 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
 And shall I couple hell I 
 
 An actor could not, immediately after the revela- 
 tion of the ghost, declaim these lines, as they stand, 
 and present them to the ear, without exciting a 
 sense of ridicule in his hearers. The anti-climax 
 would be too marked to be endurable. 
 
 What is the situation — to use a play-wright's word — 
 when these lines are spoken ? They occur very 
 near the beginning of the play. Hamlet has already 
 been introduced to the audience, and is represented 
 as indulging a deep grief at his father's death, his 
 mother's fickleness {not her wickedness), and his own 
 disappointed hopes, — for he had expected the elec- 
 tion to the throne to light on him, instead of on 
 his uncle Claudius. On this occasion, his second 
 appearance in the play, he has so far controlled him- 
 self in the solitary indulgence of his sorrow, that he 
 has come at midnight to the outer platform of the 
 castle, with two friends, expecting there to meet the 
 dead king's ghost, which, they have told him, has 
 already thrice appeared. The apparition comes 
 again, and Hamlet recognizes the spirit as his 
 father's and credits its almost incredible disclosure. 
 
14 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 It is as the ghost vanishes, after making its horrible 
 revelation, that these lines are spoken. 
 
 We see Hamlet, on the fading of the ghost, 
 paralyzed by the revelation of his uncle's and his 
 mother's wickedness, overcome by grief and horror 
 and disgust, and by the immensity of the task he 
 is expected to perform. He can not realize how 
 such a burden was imposed on him as duty. He 
 feels that the foundations of the moral world are 
 crumbling, and, reaching' after something stable and 
 unchangeable, he exclaims (as the present punctua- 
 tion enjoins) : 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
 And shall I couple hell ? O, fie ! 
 
 This is not natural : who, in such a condition of 
 mind, would call on heaven and earth, and stop to 
 ask, or even think. 
 
 And shall I couple hell ? 
 
 It is too cold-blooded : we can not believe that Ham- 
 let would pick his phrases at such a moment ; that 
 he could invoke the hosts of heaven and earth, and 
 stop to consider if he should also appeal to hell, or 
 that he was so dainty in his speech that he exclaimed 
 0,Jie ! at the mere suggestion. This is not Hamlet's 
 nature. The incongruity of the questions, — what 
 else? And shall I couple hellf — just after the invoca- 
 tion to heaven and earth, is shocking. It is not pos- 
 sible that Hamlet could pause to select his form of 
 aspiration, and critically cry, 0,fie I on the rejection 
 of the suggestion to couple hell, when he was pos- 
 sessed by so deep emotion as his succeeding words 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 15 
 
 reveal. Players feel this, and if they retain the first 
 two lines of this soliloquy they omit from them the 
 words, — what else ? and C, fie, and make And 
 shall I couple hell? express, not a question only, but 
 the conviction that hell too must be included in the 
 invocation : — shall has the force of must. 
 
 What seems to be the true interpretation of these 
 lines suggested itself in the same hour when their 
 incongruity was first noticed. As the play was 
 afterward read and re-read, every speech and action 
 so fitted into and agreed with this interpretation 
 that the conclusion was unavoidable that the mis- 
 take had been made by some modern editor, and 
 continued without notice of the change, and there- 
 fore without correction. Thinking this* I believed 
 that the audiences before the Restoration had under- 
 stood and loved the Tragedy because this interpre- 
 tation, which I thought they then possessed, gave 
 them the key to it; and I tried to shut out from my 
 mind every explanation of the play that I had ever 
 entertained, and to examine it by the help of this 
 new light, as if it were a new creation. In this I 
 succeeded beyond my expectations ; at each read- 
 ing a new harmony developed itself, and I was con- 
 firmed in my belief that an unnoticed misprint had 
 created the mystery that envelops Hamlet. 
 
 But when I went to the various editions, early and 
 late, for proof of my conjecture, I found the error 
 everywhere reproduced. The passage was the same, 
 or varied very slightly, — an " Oh " for an " O," may 
 be. Some few editions commented on the pas- 
 sage, but hot to elucidate it. Steevens thought the 
 
i6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 words 0,fie! " might have been the marginal repre- 
 hension of some scrupulous reader, to whom the 
 MS. had been communicated before it found its way 
 to the press." Reed said of O, fie ! " These words 
 (which hurt the measure, and from that circumstance 
 and their almost ludicrous turn may be suspected 
 as an interpolation) are found only in the two 
 earliest quartos." He did not mean the Quarto 
 of 1603 ; this was not then discovered. Dyc'e 
 thought the words might be omitted, and Capell 
 boldly thrust them out as " impertinent in the high- 
 est degree." George MacDonald, noticing And 
 shall I couple hell? could only say, "He must! 
 His father is there," and Marshall, in his Study of 
 Hamlet, has this passage: 
 
 On the Soliloquy " O all you host of heaven! " 
 
 " This soliloquy is not a long one ; but it is a very 
 important one. It is the key-note to that wild per- 
 turbation of mind in which Hamlet remains during 
 the rest of this act. The vehement aspiration with 
 which it commences — 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else.? 
 And shall I couple hell ? 
 
 is succeeded by the expression — 
 
 O, fie! 
 
 which recalls to our memories the words in the 
 former soliloquy — 
 
 Fie on't ! ah fie ! 
 
 Here the exclamation may be taken ^in two ways ; 
 either as a self-rebuke for the mention of hell, or as 
 a reproach directed against his own weakness on 
 the part of Hamlet. I think the lattef the best 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 17 
 
 interpretation, especially if we consider the words 
 which follow immediately : 
 
 Hold, hold, my heart ; 
 And you, my sinews, grow not instant old. 
 But bear me stiffly up." 
 
 I turned to the Folio of 1623 ; there the passage 
 reads, 
 
 Oh all you host of Heaven ! Oh Earth ; what els ? 
 And shall I couple Hell ? Oh fie : hold my heart; 
 And you my sinnewes, grow not instant Old ; 
 But beare me stiffely up. 
 
 In the Quarto of 1604 I found, 
 
 O all you hoft of heauen, 6 earth, what els. 
 And fhall I coupple hell, 6 fie, hold, hold my hart, 
 And you my finnowes, growe not inftant old, 
 But beare me fwiftly vp. 
 
 and the Quarto of 1603 reads, 
 
 O all you hofte of heauen ! O earth, what elfe ? 
 And fhall I couple hell ; remember thee ? 
 
 Nowhere did I find the reading I was searching for ; 
 but I was not convinced that the present reading is 
 the true one. The' punctuation of the Folio was not 
 done by Shakespeare, it differed from the Quartos, 
 they differed from each other, and all from the 
 modern punctuation: I believe all are incorrect. 
 But the Quarto of 1604 was printed in Shakespeare's 
 lifetime, " according to the true and perfect coppie " ; 
 this Quarto does not impose any absolute interpre- 
 tation of this passage on the reader ; commas, de- 
 noting a pause, are the only stops employed : 
 
i8 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 O all you hoft of heauen, 6 earth, what els, 
 And fhall I coupple hell, 6 fie, hold, hold my hart, 
 And you my finnowes, growe not inftant old, 
 But beare me fwiftely vp. 
 
 It is possible that the proper punctuation was not 
 understood by the compositor, who may have in- 
 serted these commas, believing that the actor would 
 substitute the needed stops ; but, while an actor 
 might, and probably would, punctuate his own 
 manuscript copy of his part, he would not make the 
 correction in the printed stage copy, and thus, the 
 later editions being printed one from another, the 
 proper pointing may never have been adopted. 
 This seems plausible, especially when we observe 
 that in the First Quarto, in which, however, we do 
 not find the apostrophe, 
 
 O, fie! Hold, hold.my heart ; 
 And you, my sinews, grow not instant old. 
 But bear me stiffly up — 
 
 the punctuation is much more elaborate. In the 
 modern editions the substitutions for the commas 
 in the Second Quarto are as follows : 
 
 O all )'ou host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
 And shall I couple hell? O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart; 
 And you, my sinews, grow not instant old. 
 But bear me stiffly up. 
 
 Let us punctuate once more ; let us alter the place 
 of an interrogation point, and read : 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
 
 And shall I couple? Hell! O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart. 
 
 And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 
 
 But bear me stiffly up. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 19 
 
 We know that no fault was more common than the 
 interchange or omission of ? and ! ; and this I believe 
 is what Shakespeare wrote. 
 
 Hamlet has just been told that his father was 
 murdefed by the uncle who is now married to his 
 mother, and the duty to avenge this murder has 
 been imposed on him ; he has been told that his 
 mother's seeming virtue is a sham, that her ap- 
 parent love for his father was only a cover for her 
 intrigue with Claudius, and from the terms of the 
 disclosure he believes that Gertrude was also a party 
 to her husband's murder. Murderess and Adul- 
 teress,— these are the names by which he must 
 henceforth designate his mother ! Prostrated, de- 
 vastated by the disclosure, he exclaims, 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
 
 What must I prepare for next ? Instead of won- 
 dering whether he shall violate the proprieties, and 
 "couple hell" with heaven and earth, he instinc- 
 tively thinks of his love for Ophelia, and contem- 
 plates it in the light of his father's revelation : the 
 possible results of a marriage with her occur to him, 
 and his instant repudiation of them and her, and of 
 the idea of any marriage, is shown by the intolerant 
 exclamations, 
 
 And shall I couple ? Hell ! 
 
 What else? does not mean, What else can I 
 invoke ? What else shall I unite with heaven and 
 earth ? What else can I turn to for aid»? — but it is 
 the broken-hearted cry of a 3'oung soul who finds 
 himself bereft of father, of kingdom, and of his faith 
 
20 THE TRUE STDRY OF 
 
 in woman's love and virtue. What else can be taken 
 from him ? From what quarter can a new blow be 
 dealt him ? What else remains ? As a sequence to 
 this thought comes the recollection of what had 
 promised him a life of happiness. Ophelia's loye — 
 that still is his. But the revelation of the ghost has 
 made him clear-sighted : he had already marveled 
 at his mother's shortlived grief; before the dis- 
 closure of her guilt he had reached the conclusion, 
 " Frailty, thy name is woman." Now he instantly 
 measures Ophelia by her, he compares the two, and 
 from his knowledge of Ophelia's character (he had 
 given private time to her) he conceives that she will 
 be as pliant under temptation as his mother has 
 been : she will be no crown of rubies to him : a 
 marriage with her will be no true union. He asks 
 the question full of derision, of loathing, and of in- 
 dignation, 
 
 And shall I couple? 
 
 and, answering it to his wounded heart, he rejects 
 her then and there ; rejects her with an oath that 
 shows his disgust at the possibilities his derisive 
 word has suggested. By this renunciation Hamlet 
 strips himself of all that makes youth lovely and 
 life desirable; he pulls down upon himself the temple 
 of his love, and he staggers as he stands amid the 
 ruins. We know what his thoughts are, and our 
 hearts ache in sympathy with his, as he contem- 
 plates the barrenness of his future life. Gradually 
 he recovers himself, and slowly says : " O fie ! " [Fie 
 upon this weakness.] 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 21 
 
 Hold, hold, my heart. 
 
 And you, my sinews, grow not instant old. 
 
 But bear me stififly up. 
 
 Does not this reading, without any alteration of 
 the text, cast a new light on Hamlet's character, 
 and on all the conduct of the play? Does not the 
 whole play become explicable the moment we put 
 the interrogation point after the word couple ? By 
 the interpretation that this change allows, I hope 
 to show that all Hamlet's words and actions 
 before this question (demonstrations which we do 
 not see, but which we know were made) are con- 
 sistent with his love, all after it consistent with his 
 repudiation of Ophelia : from this moment we think 
 of Hamlet as an unhappy lover, and Ophelia's rela- 
 tion to him is made much more prominent and 
 be.autiful. By this interpretation, the play becomes 
 the subject of practicable, interesting study and 
 analysis, the words and acts of the principal charac- 
 ters fall into a harmony, most of the obscure pas- 
 sages can be illuminated, and the whole scheme, 
 plot, and progress of the play become more inter- 
 esting. By this interpretation the necessity for 
 believing Hamlet insane is removed; it is made to 
 appear that he did fulfill his father's command with- 
 out unnecessary delay, 2.'!\A his discrimination of char- 
 acter is marvelously exhibited. 
 
 I feel sure, however, that Shakespearean students 
 will not at once be willing to accept it ; they do not 
 yet realize how absolutely essential it is. The reader, 
 who can review and study the different scenes of 
 the Tragedy, may, even without this interpretation, 
 
22 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 by piecing them together, construct the story, but 
 without understanding every part, for each reader 
 conceives a different interpretation for certain pas- 
 sages. But the auditor, who sees the drama on 
 the stage and is hurried along with its rapidly 
 changing action, must, thus early in the play, hear 
 this exphcit expression of Hamlet's intention to 
 renounce Ophelia, in order to enable him to appre- 
 hend the object of Hamlet's represented and re- 
 ported actions in the succeeding scenes ; without this 
 expression, he could not divine it. The proof of 
 this is that they are not understood now by either 
 readers or hearers. 
 
 A play-goer who has not read the play carefully 
 does not and can not understand it as it is now 
 presented on the stage ; from one hearing he could 
 not even get a coherent idea of the story. Hamlet's 
 visit to Ophelia's closet, his conversation with 
 Polonius, his letter to Ophelia, seem utterly without 
 motive until the third act, when he finally repudiates 
 the maiden ; up to that time and beyond, they seem 
 only the manifestations of Hamlet's madness, 
 arising from no special cause, and having no special 
 fitness of application. 
 
 The play is not understood by readers and care- 
 ful students even. Think how widely their inter- 
 pretations differ. They can not all be right, but 
 each one would contend that Shakespeare intended 
 to represent the special things tfiai'^is interpreta- 
 tion makes possible. Shakespeare could have meant 
 to present only one story ; it was not meant to 
 change with the varying points of view from which 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 23 
 
 different students considered it. I think that the 
 interpretation I suggest for — 
 
 And shall I couple ? Hell !— 
 
 if it be presented on the stage, or considered in the 
 study, furnishes the one key that unlocks every 
 difficulty in the play, and I hope that even ripe 
 scholars will be tolerant until they have examined 
 the whole play with reference to it. It may be 
 more difficult for them to come to a judgment than 
 for a mind ignorant of Shakespearean criticism, for 
 they will first have to set aside their already ac- 
 cepted interpretations. 
 
 It may be objected that, after all, the interpreta- 
 tion I suggest must be proved from the play, and 
 that it only adds another to the many theories 
 that have already been advanced. To this I reply — 
 with modesty, and an ardent desire to be proven in 
 the wrong if I be wrong — that it seems to me the 
 theory I advance destroys all other theories; it 
 furnishes the one and only coherent, comprehensi- 
 ble, /r(?^'«(5/^ explication of 'Cix^ Tragedy of Hamlet. 
 For nearly three hundred years it has been possible 
 to misunderstand, not special passages only, but the 
 fundamental intention of the play ; during that 
 time no satisfactory explanation of all its obscuri- 
 ties has been advanced. I believe this theory 
 explains them; and this belief, based on careful 
 study and comparison, ought to excuse the seeming 
 vanity and presumption of the preceding state- 
 ment. Therefore with the assumption that Shake- 
 speare wrote, 
 
 And shall I couple ? 
 
24 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 I intend now to review the progress of the play. 
 As a preh'minary step I shall arrange a synopsis of 
 the tragedy which will indicate the time at which 
 each thing was done or said, in its proper relation 
 to the time each other thing was done or said. 
 Much of the confusion of our ideas has resulted from 
 a confusion of time. The Folio of 1623 does not 
 divide the whole play into acts : the beginning 
 of the first act, of course, is plain, and the beginning 
 of the second act is placed, in the Folio, where we 
 still place it. This division is correct as far as it 
 goes, but in the Folio there is no further discrimin- 
 ation of the acts. I do not know any edition that 
 is correctly divided throughout, although what 
 should be' the division is appreciated by various 
 Shakespearean scholars, and Marshall indicates 
 pretty nearly the proper scheme of time ; but the 
 usual arrangement of acts and scenes has been 
 productive of a great deal of misunderstanding. 
 To investigate the play properly we must fix in our 
 minds a correct scheme of the time occupied in each 
 scene, and its relation, in closeness or distance, to 
 all that precedes and all that follows it. 
 
III. 
 
 Six months is the space of time covered by the 
 Tragedy of Ha^nlet. This includes the time from 
 the murder of the elder Hamlet to the final clearing 
 of the stage. This period of six months is divided 
 into three periods of about two months each : the 
 first period includes the time from the king's murder 
 through the night on which his spirit reveals itself 
 to Hamlet ; the second period includes the time 
 that elapses between the revelation of the ghost 
 and the hour of Hamlet's departure from Denmark ; 
 and the third period includes the time from Ham- 
 let's departure from Denmark to the end of the 
 play. 
 
 The occurrences of only the last two days of each 
 of these periods are presented on the stage, i.e., six 
 days in all. Into six days is crowded the portrayal 
 of Claudius's perfidy, Hamlet's misery, and Ophelia's 
 madness. Six days present to us Hamlet receiving 
 the command of his father's spirit, Hamlet deter- 
 mining that the command is binding, and Hamlet 
 gladly yielding up his life after performing every 
 particular of the ghost's behest. To make this evi- 
 dent, we must examine the sequence of the scenes, 
 and the time occupied in their representation. 
 
 The action is represented as taking place in Den- 
 mark; but Shakespeare, from whatever source he re- 
 
 25 
 
26 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 celved the suggestions for his plays, transplanted 
 them to England, and adapted them to English sur- 
 roundings, conforming them to the customs of the 
 time in which he lived. It is winter when the play 
 opens, probably December : 
 
 'Tis bitter cold.— I. i. 8. 
 
 The air bites shrewdly : it is very cold. — I. iv. i. 
 
 It is barely two months since the king was killed 
 while sleeping in his orchard, where he hardly would 
 have taken his siesta, had the month been later than 
 October. 
 
 Marcellus seems to fix the time of the opening of 
 the play as very near Christmas : 
 
 Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes 
 Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated. 
 The bird of dawning singeth all night long : 
 And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ; 
 The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike. 
 No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, 
 So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. — I. i. 158. 
 
 This seems to suggest itself to his mind as an ex- 
 planation for their escaping injury from tjiis " extrav- 
 agant and erring spirit "; the spell of the season 
 may have been upon it. 
 
 The play ends in the spring — the last of April or 
 the first of May. This is indicated by the flowers 
 that Ophelia distributes, and those of which she 
 makes her fantastic garlands (IV. v. 175 ; IV. viii. 
 169), daisies, pansies, columbine, crow-flowers, nettles, 
 and long-purples. All these are flowers of early 
 summer, and in England, where the seasons are 
 more forward than with us, they bloom in April and 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 27 
 
 in May. Ophelia gathers them the day before the 
 last day of the play. 
 
 The time of the opening scene is at the end of 
 the First Period of two months. The whole of 
 this period does not appear in representation ; part 
 of it appears in narration only. The address of 
 Claudius (L ii. i) informs us of the death of the 
 late king, and his marriage with his widow, and 
 Hamlet's First Soliloquy (L ii. 129) shows us that 
 his father has been dead about two months : 
 
 But two months dead : nay, not so much, not two : 
 
 and also that within a month of his father's death 
 his mother has married again : 
 
 within a month — 
 
 . . . or ere those shoes were old 
 With which she foUow'd my poor father's body, 
 Like Niobe, all tears : — why she, even she — 
 
 . . . married, with my uncle. 
 
 This soliloquy fixes the time of the opening scene 
 as at the end of the first period of two months. The 
 occurrences of only the last two days of this period 
 are represented in the play. 
 
 Scene I. Act I. The first scene occupies the 
 time from midnight until daybreak : 
 
 Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed, Francisco. — L i. 7. 
 Hor. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad. 
 
 Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill. — L i. 166. 
 
 In it the ghost for the third time appears to the 
 watch, who agree that they must tell Hamlet of the 
 circumstance. 
 
28 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Scene II. Act I. The second scene opens in 
 the morning, some hours later : 
 
 Mar. I this morning know 
 
 Where we shall find him most conveniently. — I. i. 174. 
 
 Claudius, in a room of state in the royal castle, 
 addresses his courtiers, dispatches ambassadors to 
 Norway, gives Laertes leave to return to France, 
 and reproaches Hamlet for the continued exhibition 
 of his grief at his father's death. Hamlet consents 
 to remain in Elsinore, and, by his First Soliloquy, 
 informs us of his unhappiness, and of his disgust at 
 his mother's inconstancy. He is interrupted by 
 Horatio and the sentinels, who tell him their story, 
 and he decides to watch that night himself. 
 
 Scene III. Act I. Scene III. is subsequent to 
 the preceding, but on the same day. yin it Ophelia 
 is introduced. Laertes, in bidding her farewell, 
 cautions her most earnestly to guard her honor : 
 Polonius enters, and, after Laertes' departure, he 
 repeats his son's caution, showing great fear that 
 his daughter may not preserve her virtue^ That 
 Scene III. is on the same day as, the preceding one 
 is shown by Scene IV., which follows it, and which 
 represents Hamlet carrying out his detertnination : 
 I will watch to-night. — I. ii. 242. 
 
 Scene IV. Act I. Scene IV., on the platform 
 outside the castle, takes place at midnigh^ of the 
 day we have been considering, just twenty-four 
 hours after the opening of the play: 
 
 Hor. I think it lacks of twelve. 
 
 Hatn. No, it is struck.^I. iv. 3. ^ 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 29 
 
 In this scene Hamlet is waiting with his friends 
 for the ghost, who enters almost immediately after 
 twelve. The ghost beckons Hamlet, who leaves the 
 platform with it. 
 
 Scene V. Act L Scene V., on another part of 
 the platform, opens a few minutes later, and the 
 action continues until dawn. 
 
 Ghost. The glow-worrr shows the matin to be near. — I. v. 89. 
 
 In this scene Hamlet is told by the ghost, that 
 his father was murdered by his uncle, and that 
 his mother was "false to her husband during his life- 
 time. He is commanded to revenge his father and 
 remove Claudius from " the royal bed." He accepts 
 the obligation, and, in consequence of the revela- 
 tion of his mother's adultery, determines that he 
 will not marry, expressing this in the words of the 
 Second Soliloquy : 
 
 And shall txouple ? Hell ! 
 
 His friends come to seek him, and he swears them 
 to secrecy as to what they have seen and heard, and 
 as to the cause for his conduct should he at any 
 future time " see fit to put an antic disposition on." 
 
 This closes the first act, at daybreak of the sec- 
 ond day. The time consumed in this act vs, part of 
 two days — from midnight of the first day to dawn 
 of the second day, and from morning of the second 
 day to dawn again. These two days end the First 
 Period of about two months. 
 
 The Second Period of about^two months passes, 
 with the exception of the last two days, before we 
 again see any of the characters of the play. That 
 
30 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 about two months elapse is deduced from a passage 
 in Act III., Scene II. Hamlet says, during the 
 mock-play : 
 
 What should a man do but be merry? for, look you, how 
 cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within these 
 two hours. — III. ii. 131. 
 
 Ophelia replies — 
 
 Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. 
 
 We have already seen, in Act I., that .the elder 
 Hamlet had then been dead ab%ut two months. 
 Two months therefore intervene between the first 
 act and the mock-play, and the mock-play (as will 
 appear) takes place the next night after the second 
 act opens. All the action of Act II. is continuous, 
 though not all of it occurs in one place. 
 
 Scene I. Act II. The opening scene of the 
 second act represents a room in Polonius's house. 
 The time is probably early morning. I think this 
 because Polonius would naturally start off a post to 
 his son, who has been two months in France, early 
 in the day: this he does on the opening of the sec- 
 ond act. (,jA.s Reynaldo, the messenger, departs, 
 Ophelia enters and tells her father that Hamlet, in 
 a very perturbed state of mind, and disheveled con- 
 dition of apparel, has just entered and left her 
 chamber. I think this also indicates early morning. 
 After a sleepless night, without arranging the disor- 
 der of his clothing, Hamlet rushes into Ophelia's 
 presence, hoping to decide by sight of her whether 
 he is right in doubting her ability to resist tempta- 
 tion. The decision is given against her, and he 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 31 
 
 leaves her as abruptly as he came. Ophelia hastens 
 to tell her father of the occurrence, and Polonius, 
 concluding that Hamlet is mad for Ophelia's love, 
 determines to go at once to the king to tell him 
 that this is the cause of the change in Hamlet's 
 bearing. He sets out for the castle, and while he is 
 going thither we are shown — 
 
 Scene n. Act H. This represents a room in the 
 castle. The action is continuous with the preced- 
 ing. The king and queen receive Rosencrantz and 
 Guildenstern, for whom they have sent, hoping their 
 society may prove beneficial to Hamlet, who is 
 overcome with melancholy. (Recollect that Hamlet 
 has been sad since his father's death, and that the 
 revelation of the ghost, while it gave him ground to 
 hope for a change in his situation, has given him ad- 
 ditional cause for grief. It has constrained him to 
 doubt his mother and Ophelia. He has been un- 
 able to convince himself that the story of the ghost 
 is true, and, from its enormity, he fears that the 
 apparition was the devil, inciting him to commit 
 murder.) Polonius arrives from his house, as these 
 gentlemen are leaving the royal presence, — they are 
 going to find Hamlet. Polonius announces that the 
 ambassadors to Norway who had been dispatched 
 two months before (I. ii. 33) have returned, and he 
 also informs the king that he has found the cause 
 of Hamlet's madness. He brings in the ambassa- 
 dors, who make their report, and then assures the 
 king and queen that Hamlet is mad for Ophelia's 
 love, and reads them the letterthe prince has written 
 to her. He suggests that a meeting of Hamlet and 
 
2,2 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Ophelia be contrived, at which the king and he 
 shall be present unseen ; this is assented to. He 
 sees Hamlet approaching and begs to be left alone 
 "with him, designing to discover more of his mad- 
 ness. Hamlet sees Polonius's belief, and, falling in 
 with the idea, feigns madness, and, under the license 
 it would give, tells Polonius to watch his daughter, 
 saying, "conception is a blessing ; but not as your 
 daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't." This 
 conversation is interrupted by the entrance of Ros- 
 encrantz and Guildenstern. Hamlet exhibits sad- 
 ness but no insanity in his talk with them, and they 
 tell him the players are coming to Elsinore. Polo- 
 nius, who left the room when these two friends 
 entered it, returns to tell Hamlet the same thing, 
 and Hamlet ridicules and abuses him, confirming 
 Polonius's belief that he is mad. The players enter. 
 Hamlet, receives them cordially and requires one of 
 them to repeat a speech that he had before heard 
 him declaim. This speech suggests to Hamlet a 
 means to discover whether the ghost was really his 
 father's spirit or only an emissary of the devil ; he 
 decides to have a play presented the next night. 
 
 We'll ha't to-morrow night. — II. ii. 565. 
 
 in which some inserted lines shall tent his uncle to 
 the quick, if he be guilty, and so confirm the story of 
 the ghost. When Polonius and the players, and Ros- 
 encrantz and Guildenstern, leave Hamlet he utters 
 the Third Soliloquy, in which he blames himself for 
 delaying to act on the ghost's injunction, but justi- 
 fies himself to the audience, by the expression of 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 33 
 
 his fear that the spirit he has seen may be the devil, 
 who abuses him to damn him. The second act closes 
 with the expression of Hamlet's determination to 
 have proof, by the mock-play, of his uncle's guilt or 
 innocence. 
 
 All these — the dispatching Reynaldo ; Ophelia's 
 story to her father ; the reception, iirst of Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern, and then of the ambassadors on 
 their return from Norway; Polonius's story to the 
 king and queen ; his interview with Hamlet ; the 
 conversation of Hamlet with Rosencrantz and Guil- 
 denstern ; the second chafifing of Polonius ; the 
 entrance and exit of the players ; and Hamlet's 
 Third Soliloquy — are represented as succeeding one 
 another during one day, the first day of the second 
 period. The two scenes of the second act are filled 
 with only one day's happenings. 
 
 Act HI. represents the occurrences of the second 
 day and night of the second period. In Act HL 
 most of what is now called Act IV. should be inclu- 
 ded : the action is continuous from the beginning 
 of Act III. to the end of the fourth scene of Act IV. 
 Everything represented in the third act, and in the 
 first four scenes of the fourth act, took place within 
 the space of twenty-four hours. If the division into 
 acts and scenes were made correctly, Act IV. would 
 begin with the fifth scene of the fourth act. 
 
 Scene I. Act III. The first scene of the third 
 act opens upon a room in the castle. Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern make their first report to their 
 employers ; they can not discover why Hamlet has 
 so entirely changed his bearing, and while they re- 
 
34 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 port that he received them "most like a gentleman," 
 they assume that he is mad. They tell the king 
 
 that the players 
 
 have already order 
 This night to play before him. — III. i. 20: 
 
 This speech fixes the time of the third act. Ham- 
 let has said, 
 
 We'll ha't to-morrow night. — II. ii. 565. 
 and now we see that the order is for " to-night," — 
 evidently this is the succeeding day to the one in 
 which Hamlet gives the direction. Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern leave the royal presence as soon 
 as they have made their report, and the king asks 
 Gertrude also to withdraw : he tells her he has sent 
 for Hamlet, who, when he comes, shall find only 
 Ophelia, since he intends, with Polonius, to hide be- 
 hind the arras and witness their encounter. (This, 
 remember, is on the day after Hamlet had broken 
 into Ophelia's presence, and on the same day as 
 the mock-play in which he finally separates himself 
 from her.) The king and Polonius, leaving Ophe- 
 lia in the apartment, hide as Hamlet enters, and he, 
 not at first observing the maid, exposes the subject 
 of his thoughts to the hidden king, in the Fourth 
 Soliloquy, To be, or not to be. When he perceives 
 Ophelia, forgetting for a moment his decision that 
 she will not be faithful if tempted, he addresses her 
 kindly, but soon becomes very bitter, deriding her 
 for wishing to marry, and telling her instead to go 
 to a nunnery. When he leaves her she is doubly 
 convinced that he is mad. The king and Polonius 
 re-enter, and Claudius, alarmed bythe soliloquy, and 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 35 
 
 by the threat against himself that he had overheard, 
 resolves to send Hamlet at once to England, 
 and so tells Polonius, who assents to Claudius's de- 
 cision, but still insists that the beginning of Ham- 
 let's madness sprang from neglected love. He 
 therefore suggests that, after the play, the queen 
 shall summon Hamlet to her closet, and question 
 him as to the cause of his unhappiness ; he proposes 
 to hide behind the arras there, and, overhearing 
 their conversati^^Beport it to the king. To this 
 the king ^^^^^^^r 
 
 Scene ^^^^^RH. represents a hall in the cas- 
 tle, on the^^^^^ of the day we have just spoken 
 of. HamleW^^iving the players instructions how 
 to speak the speech he wishes them to insert in the 
 mock-play ; as the players go out, Rosencrantz and 
 Guildenstern enter with Polonius, and tell Hamlet 
 that the king and queen will hear the play at once. 
 He sends them all to hasten the preparations of the 
 players, and thus secures an opportunity to speak 
 to Horatio alone. He desires Horatio, whom he 
 had formerly told of the ghost's revelation, to watch 
 the king closely during the mock-play, and observe 
 whether any part shall make him blench. The 
 king and queen, Ophelia, Polonius, Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern, and the court, come in, and the 
 play begins, Hamlet indicating to the audience his 
 contemptuous estimation of Ophelia by his disgust- 
 ing conversation with her before and during its rep- 
 resentation. Claudius, self-convicted by his agita- 
 tion during the play, leaves the hall with all but 
 Hamlet and Horatio. Hamlet exhibits his nervous 
 
36 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 joy at the success of his detective scheme, and de- 
 cides that the ghost is really his father's spirit, and 
 that, as he can believe its story, he is now free to 
 accomplish its behest. While he is speaking, Ros- 
 encrantz and Guildenstern enter, and Hamlet breaks 
 off his conversation with Horatio by calling for 
 some music ; this he does as they come in, for the 
 purpose of misleading them as to the subject of his 
 conversation with his friend. They have come to 
 tell him that his mother desir^B^^^him at once. 
 Hamlet's answers are ambigu^^^^^^H^nical, but 
 at last he clearly indicates to^^^^^m'antz and 
 Guildenstern his contempt for the^^^^Riis knowl- 
 edge that they are the creatures o^We king who 
 spy upon him. Polonius interrupts them, bringing 
 the same message from the queen that the two 
 spies have already delivered, and Hamlet experi- 
 ments with him to discover to what degree he is 
 considered mad. A short soliloquy at the end of 
 this scene shovs Hamlet, convinced that the ghost 
 had spoken sooth, ready to kill his uncle, and re- 
 straining himself from the temptation to kill his 
 mother. 
 
 Scene HI. Act HI. represents a room in the 
 castle shortly after the mock-play. Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern have returned to the king after 
 having given Hamlet his mother's message, and 
 Claudius, in their short absence having determined 
 to send Hamlet at once to England, tells them of his 
 decision, and instructs them that they shall go along 
 with him. They retire to make hasty preparations 
 for their voyage, and Polonius, entering, tells 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 37 
 
 Claudius that Hamlet is going to his mother's 
 closet, and then departs to take his station be- 
 hind the arras. The king, left alone, exhibits to 
 the audience, by a soliloquy, the effect the mock- 
 play has produced upon him ; his conscience is 
 awakened, and he retires a little and attempts to 
 pray. Hamlet enters, and, seeing Claudius on his 
 knees, unconscious of his presence, rushes forward 
 to kill him ; but, fo;- what seems to him a satisfactory 
 reason, he refraijM||rom doing so, and goes to his 
 mother, wl^^^^Hsiting him. 
 
 Scene I^^Hfr HL discloses Gertrude and Po- 
 lonius in com^^ation in Gertrude's closet, or ora- 
 tory, to which Hamlet is coming. Polonius with- 
 draws as Hamlet enters. Hamlet has come to the 
 interview believing the story of the ghost, and anx- 
 ious to accomplish the injunction. 
 
 Let not the royal bed of Denmark be 
 A couch for luxury and damned incest. 
 
 He speaks harshly to his mother, and restrains her 
 when she would go and call the king ; she cries 
 for help, and Polonius echoes her from behind the 
 hangings. Hamlet, believing the cry comes from 
 the king, runs his sword through the arras and kills 
 Polonius. But little disturbed by this death, being 
 engrossed in the duty he must perform, Hamlet 
 so converses with his mother — who does not yet 
 believe him mad — that her conscience is awakened, 
 and Hamlet has reason to hope that he can accom- 
 plish the most difificult part of his father's obliga- 
 tion. While he is reviling his uncle the ghost enters 
 the queen's apartment and addresses Hamlet, who 
 
38 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 answers him, but the ghost's voice is not audible 
 to Gertrude. She asks Hamlet to whom he speaks, 
 and his replies convince her that her son is mad. 
 This opinion he disproves, and induces his mother 
 to promise that she will conceal from Claudius that 
 he is not really insane, but " only mad in craft." 
 This promise, and the silence with which she re- 
 ceives Hamlet's exhortations, show us that he is on 
 the high road to the fulfillment of his vow ; he is de.' 
 taching his mother's love from C^mdius, and, when 
 this is accomplished, killing him^HM^^asy. Ham- 
 let and his mother both leave ^^^»ge, Hamlet 
 dragging the dead body of Poloniu^^Pn him. The 
 queen goes straight to the king ; their interview is 
 shown in the scene that by the present arrange- 
 ment is considered the first scene of the fourth act. 
 It is very improper to begin a new act here ; the 
 occurrences of this night should all be included in 
 the third act, and the fourth act should not begin 
 until what is now represented a's the fifth scene of 
 the fourth act. 
 
 Scene I. Act IV. (which should be Scene V. 
 Act III.) represents Gertrude telling Claudius that 
 Hamlet, in an attack of frenzy, has killed Polonius, 
 whose body he is now drawing aside. She had 
 promised to conceal the fact of Hamlet's sanity from 
 the king, and she now asserts that he is mad. Clau- 
 dius calls Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and dis- 
 patches them to look for Hamlet, and then, with 
 Gertrude, leaves the scene, going to call up some of 
 their wise counselors and advise with them what 
 is now best to do. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 39 
 
 Scene II. Act IV. (which should be Scene VI. 
 Act III.) represents another room in the castle. 
 Hamlet enters, followed by Rosencrantz and Guil- 
 denstern, who have found him, but who can not dis- 
 cover from him where he has left Polonius's body. 
 The three go together to the king. 
 
 Scene III. Act. IV. (which should be Scene VII. 
 Act III.) exhibits their entrance to the king's pres- 
 ence. Hamlet indicates to Claudius where he has 
 left the dead councilor, and Claudius tells him he 
 — Hamlet-^MKSt at once depart to England to pro- 
 tect himsel^Km the consequences of this murder, 
 but, on Hamlet's exit, Claudius reveals that he has 
 sent to England, with Hamlet, a command for his 
 instant death. 
 
 Scene IV. Act. IV. (which should be Scene VIII. 
 Act. III.) shows Hamlet and Rosencrantz and Guild- 
 enstern, in the early morning, after the night we 
 have been considering, going to the ship which is to 
 bear them away from Denmark. That this is the 
 time is shown by Claudius's words: 
 
 The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, 
 But we will ship him hence. — IV. i. 29. 
 and, 
 
 I'll have him hence to-night. — IV. iii. 58. 
 
 They meet Fortinbras and his soldiers, who are 
 marching across Denmark toward Poland, and Ham- 
 let questions them as to their destination, and, in his 
 Sixth Soliloquy, compares the activity of Fortin- 
 bras with his own inaction. This soliloquy, as the 
 play is now divided, closes the fourth scene of the 
 fourth act ; it should close the third act. This early 
 
40 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 morning scene completes the representation of the 
 happenings of the second day of the Second Period. 
 In this second day Rosencrantz and Guildenstern 
 have made their first report ; Hamlet has encoun- 
 tered Ophelia and reviled her, and by his soliloquy 
 has alarmed the king ; he has instructed the players 
 how to speak the speech which was to unkennel his 
 uncle's guilt ; the mock-play has been presented, and 
 Claudius, by his agitation; has confirmed the ghost's 
 story, and afterward he has determined to send 
 Hamlet at once to England ; HamletAas awakened 
 his mother's consciousness of guilt ; l^^cilled Polo- 
 nius, believing him to be the king ; and has been dis- 
 patched from Denmark. The two days which we 
 have just considered close the Second Period of about 
 two months. At their ending we find Hamlet con- 
 vinced that the story of the ghost is true, and already 
 endeavoring to accomplish its commands. He has 
 made some progress in separating his mother from 
 his uncle, and the remonstrance he has directed to- 
 ward her continues to prick her conscience and 
 carry on the good work. The interruption of his 
 departure from Denmark postpones further effort in 
 this direction, but does not compel him to abandon 
 it, or his design ultimately to kill the king. The last 
 words of the Sixth Soliloquy assert this. 
 
 The Third Period of about two months passes, 
 with the exception of the last two days, before we 
 again see any of the characters of the play. It is 
 impossible to prove this by quotation, — the proof is 
 inferential only. Laertes, for whom Ophelia prob- 
 ably sent as soon as her father was killed, has re-' 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 41 
 
 turned secretly to Elsinore ; — the journey to France 
 and back must have consumed about two months. 
 The ambassadors from England, who come to tell 
 the king that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern have 
 been executed, in compliance with his supposed 
 command, arrive during the last scene. The voyage 
 to England and back must have consumed about 
 two months ; — the voyage of the ambassadors to 
 Norway and back had consumed fully two. For- 
 tinbras's expedition against Poland, from which he 
 returns at the end of the play, must have occupied 
 considerable time. The only direct testimony that 
 the text gives is in Claudius's words to Laertes about 
 Lamond — the Norman : 
 
 Two months since. 
 Here was a gentleman of Normandy. — IV. vii. 82. 
 
 We know from this speech that Hamlet was in 
 Elsinore with Lamond two months before this con- 
 versation, but we do not know that he remained 
 there any length of time after Lamond's arrival ; 
 he may have been dispatched at once to England. 
 
 Hamlet returns to Denmark on the first day of 
 the Third Period, and is killed on the second day ; 
 during his absence from Denmark he had been most 
 of the time in the hands of the pirates. The first 
 thing presented to us, on the first day of the Third 
 Period, is Ophelia's madness ; this first day should 
 begin Act IV., but it is now considered : 
 
 Scene V. Act IV. This scene opens in a room in 
 the castle. Horatio and an attendant gentleman per- 
 suade the queen to admit Ophelia. She enters, and, 
 by her songs, indicates that grief at her father's death 
 
42 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 and disappointed love for Hamlet have dethroned 
 her reason. When she departs, followed by Horatio, 
 Claudius,-who has come in, enumerates his causes 
 for unhappiness. He is interrupted by the entrance 
 of a gentleman, who warns him that Laertes is 
 approaching the apartment at the head of a mob. 
 Laertes enters and arraigns the king for his father's 
 death, and the disrespect shown him in his obscure 
 funeral. He is interrupted by the re-appearance of 
 Ophelia, who makes evident to her brother her loss 
 of reason. On her departure Claudius and Laertes 
 retire, while the king tells the latter the circum- 
 stances of Polonius's death. 
 
 Scene VL Act IV. (which should be Scene H. Act 
 IV.) discloses sailors who bring letters from Ham- 
 let to Horatio, telling him the prince has returned 
 to Denmark, and how he accomplished his return ; 
 they also have letters to the king and queen. 
 These they deliver to an attendant, and then lead 
 Horatio to the place where Hamlet awaits his 
 coming. 
 
 Scene VII. Act IV. (which should be Scene III. 
 Act IV.) discovers Claudius and Laertes in another 
 room of the castle, continuing the conversation, in 
 which — out of our sight and hearing — the king tells 
 Laertes how Hamlet had killed Polonius. The 
 messertger brings in the letters from Hamlet, which 
 surprise and alarm the king, as they tell him the 
 prince has returned alone to Denmark. He conceives 
 a plan and unfolds it to Laertes, by which Hamlet 
 shall be slain in a fencing match, by seeming acci- 
 dent. Laertes agrees to do his part — to stab Ham- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 43 
 
 let with an unbated foil which shall be poisoned — 
 and Claudius adds that he will prepare a poisoned 
 drink which .Hamlet shall quaff. Their conspiracy 
 is shortened by the entrance of the queen, who tells 
 Laertes that Ophelia has just been drowned. This 
 catastrophe is the last of the occurrences of this day. 
 The action from Scene V. Act IV. to the end of the 
 act is continuous, and all takes place on the first 
 day of the Third Period. On this day the queen 
 receives Ophelia; Laertes breaks into the castle and 
 assails the king ; Ophelia again enters, and thus 
 acquaints her brother with her loss of reason ; 
 Horatio and the king receive letters from Hamlet ; 
 Claudius and Laertes concoct a plot to kill him ; 
 and Gertrude tells them of Ophelia's death by 
 drowning. 
 
 The second day of the Third Period, and the last 
 day of the play, is the time occupied by Act V. Its 
 two scenes occur on the same day, and this day is 
 the day after Ophelia's death and Hamlet's return 
 to Denmark. This appears from Claudius's appeal 
 to Laertes at Ophelia's grave : 
 
 Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech ; 
 We'll put the matter to the present push.— V. i. 317. 
 
 and from Hamlet's letter to the king: 
 
 To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes.— IV. vii. 45. 
 
 Scene I. Act V. It is now "to-morrow." Ham- 
 let, occupied with thoughts of the king's death, walks 
 with Horatio in the churchyard, and is there sur- 
 prised by the entrance of the court, who follow 
 some corse that did fordo its own life. Hamlet 
 
44 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 and Horatio retire behind the tombs to wait until 
 the funeral be over, but Laertes's words disclose to 
 Hamlet that Ophelia is dead. His grief then com- 
 pels him to discover himself, but, after a brief con- 
 tention with Laertes, he regains his self-control and 
 at once withdraws, followed by Horatio. Claudius 
 entreats Laertes to be patient, reminding him of 
 the plan by which they mean to secure " an hour 
 of quiet." 
 
 Scene H. Act V. represents a hall in the castle. 
 Hamlet, meaning to kill Claudius, has gone thither, 
 with Horatio, from the churchyard. On the way he , 
 has told his friend all the particulars of the ghost's 
 revelation, and has explained why he repulsed the ' 
 maid he loved so dearly; he has recalled to Horatio 
 the mock-play, the killing of Polonius, and his ex- 
 trusion from Denmark, and Horatio has told him all 
 he knows about Ophelia. We now hear Hamlet 
 telling his friend how he discovered his uncle's 
 treachery, and how, changing their commission, he 
 sent Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to England to 
 their death, and. returned to Denmark himself in the 
 pirate ship with proof of Claudius's design against 
 him. He contends that he is morally justified in 
 killing the king, and then he expresses regret that 
 he has offended Laertes. Osric interrupts him by 
 bringing a challenge to a friendly fencing match 
 with Laertes, which Hamlet accepts. The court 
 enter to see the fencing, and during the encounter 
 Hamlet and Laertes each receive a mortal wound 
 from the poisoned foil, and the queen dies from 
 drinking the draught prepared by Claudius for her 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 45 
 
 son. Hamlet, knowing that death is near, rushes 
 upon the king and stabs him, also, with the poisoned 
 point. As Hamlet dies Fortinbras and the am- 
 bassadors from England enter, and Horatio retires 
 with them to explain the causes for these many 
 deaths. Thus ends the play, and thus ends the sec- 
 ond day of the Third Period. 
 
 This long argument and synopsis have been made 
 necessary by the wrong numbering of the scenes, 
 and by the confusion as to the time occupied by 
 the different acts. The six days of the play by this 
 synopsis have been discriminated, and the occur- 
 rences of each one of them have been ascribed 
 to the day to which they belong. I hope this will 
 be an aid to the understanding of the play. 
 
IV. 
 
 The next thing needful in considering the Tragedy 
 of Hamlet is at once to inquire how old Shakespeare 
 represents his hero to be ; until this is determined 
 with approximate certainty, Hamlet is burdened 
 with a disguise, — the disguise in which we clothe 
 him when we endow him with years that are not 
 justly his. 
 
 The only direct evidence on the subject is the 
 testimony of the grave-digger. Hamlet asks him : 
 
 How long hast thou been a grave-maker ? 
 he replies : 
 
 Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last 
 king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. 
 How long is that since ? 
 
 asks Hamlet : 
 
 Cannot you tell that ? every fool can tell that : it was the 
 very day that young Hamlet was born ; he that is mad, and sent 
 into England. 
 
 Further in the scene the grave-digger asserts: 
 I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years. 
 At first sight this seems conclusive ; he has been 
 sexton thirty years, and he came to it the very day 
 young Hamlet was born. Evidently Hamlet must 
 be thirty years old. But the statement 
 
 I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years, 
 46 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 47 
 
 admits of explanation. The sexton is the sacris- 
 tan ; the sacristan has charge of the vestments and 
 the sacramental vessels, and is not necessarily the 
 grave-digger. A boy may be a sacristan, and often 
 is, but it is not probable that a boy would be a grave- 
 maker. The clown was probably first a sacristan, 
 whose duties were inside the church; and then, as 
 he advanced to man's estate and strength, he became 
 the grave-digger. He had been sexton man and boy 
 thirty years ; he came to grave-making the day young 
 Hamlet was born. It is not absolutely certain that 
 he came to grave-making thirty years before, and 
 therefore it is not absolutely certain that Hamlet is 
 thirty years of age. 
 
 But, speaking of Yorick's skull, the grave-digger 
 says : 
 
 Here's a skull now ; this skull has lain in the earth three and 
 twenty years. 
 
 Hamlet says: 
 
 Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio : a fellow of infinite 
 jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a 
 thousand times. 
 
 Yorick has lain in the grave three-and-twenty 
 years, and he has carried Hamlet on his back a 
 thousand times? — assuredly Hamlet must be at 
 least thirty years old ? We should sayjj/^j, at once, 
 to this, did not a reference to the Quarto of 1603 
 show that in that edition the grave- digger says of a 
 skull — the only one with which any time is asso- 
 ciated — 
 
48 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Looke you, heres a fcuU hath bin here this dozen yeare, 
 Let me fee, I euer fince our last king Hamlet 
 Slew Fortenbraffe in combat, yong Hamlets father, 
 Hee that's mad. 
 
 Ham. I mary, how came he madde ? 
 
 Clowne. I faith very ftrangely, by loofing of his wittes. 
 
 Ham. Vpon what ground ? 
 
 Clowne. A this ground, in Denmarke. 
 
 Ham. Where is he now ? 
 
 Clowne. Why now they fent him to England. 
 
 Ham. To England ! wherefore ? 
 
 Clowne. Why they fay he fhall haue his wittes there, 
 Or if he haue not, t'is no great matter there. 
 It will not be feene there. 
 
 Ham. Why not there .' 
 
 Clowne. Why there they say the men are as mad as he. 
 
 Ham. Whose fcull was this .' 
 
 Clowne. This, a plague on him, a madde rogues it was. 
 He powred once a whole flagon of Rhenifh of my head. 
 Why do not you know him ? this was one Yoricke's 
 fcull. 
 
 Ham. Was this .' I prethee let me fee it, alas poore Yoricke 
 I knew him Horatio, 
 A fellow of infinite mirth, he hath caried mee twenty times 
 vpon his backe. 
 
 The clown, as he turned up the skull, took it in 
 his hands, saying, " Heres a scull hath bin here 
 this dozen yeare ;" he held it during the conver- 
 sation about " yong Hamlet" and Hamlet re- 
 called his attention to it, by saying, " Whose scull 
 was this?" "This," says the grave-digger, "why 
 do not you know him ? this was one Yoricke s szvXX." 
 " Was'Caxsl" says Hamlet, " I. prethee let me see 
 it;" then the grave-digger hands the skull to Ham- 
 let, and he, regarding it, says, " Alas poore Yoricke " 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 49 
 
 etc. There is no reference to the time of Hamlet's 
 birth. 
 
 A change in numbers seems to have been made, 
 without any apparent reason, throughout all the 
 play. In the Second Quarto the player king says : 
 Full thirtie times hath Phebus cart gone round ; 
 
 but the First Quarto says : 
 
 Full fortie years are paft. 
 
 Hamlet says, in the Second Quarto: 
 
 this three yeeres I haue tooke note of it, the age is growne 
 so picked ; 
 
 and the First Quarto says : 
 
 This Seauen yeares haue I noted it. 
 
 In the conversation with the grave-digger one 
 quarto says : 
 
 hee hath bore me on his backe a thoufand times ; 
 and the other : 
 
 he hath caried me twenty times vpon his backe. 
 
 The Second Quarto says : 
 
 Whereon old Norway ouercome with ioy, 
 
 Giues him three fcore thoufand crownes in anuall fee. 
 
 the First Quarto : 
 
 Giues him three thoufand crownes in annuall fee. 
 
 The Folio says : 
 
 I Sir, to be honest as this world goes, is to bee one man 
 pick'd out of two thousand ; 
 
 and the Second Quarto : 
 
 one man pickt out of tenne thoufand. 
 
50 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 The Second Quarto says : 
 
 forty thoufand brothers ; 
 and the First Quarto : 
 
 twenty brothers. 
 The First Quarto : 
 
 here's a fcuU hath bin here this dozen yeare ; 
 and the Second Quarto : 
 
 here's a fcuU now hath lyen you i'th earth 23. yeeres. 
 In the Folio this becomes: 
 
 this fcul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years. 
 
 We can not tell why all these changes were made, 
 nor why the twelve in the First Quarto was changed 
 to 23. in the Second. Like the play-wrights of the 
 present day Shakespeare delighted in local allusions : 
 maybe some jester had been dead just three-and- 
 twenty years, and the twelve of Q, was altered to 
 make a telling hit. It was probably for a like reason 
 that many changes in other plays were made, — e.g., 
 in the Merry Wives, the names Brentford and Read- 
 ing, in the Quarto, are changed to Reading, Maiden- 
 head, and Colebrook in the Folio. Or there may 
 have been no good actor in the company young 
 enough to represent a beardless boy. It is said that 
 the words — 
 
 He's fat, and scant of breath — 
 
 were inserted to suit the character to Burbage ; if 
 this be true, three-and-twenty may have been in- 
 serted for the same reason. Be the reason what it 
 may, the number was altered from twelve to three- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 51 
 
 and-twenty, and, from the evidence contained in 
 the play, we may feel sure that it was not so altered 
 for the purpose of fixing Hamlet's age at thirty 
 years. The speeches of the grave-maker can bear 
 two interpretations, but the many allusions in the 
 text, that show Hamlet to be much younger, can be 
 understood in only one way. The weight of evi- 
 dence is strongly in favor of Hamlet's being a very 
 young man. He first appears in Act L Scene H. 
 The king and queen, and the courtiers, Hamlet 
 among them, have assembled, probably for the first 
 time since king Hamlet's death, about two months 
 before. The king, after attending to the business 
 of the hour, addresses Hamlet, publicly reproving 
 him for indulging his grief for his father, and com- 
 mending him in the most patronizing manner, when 
 he consents to remain in Elsinore instead of going 
 back to school in Wittenberg. Both king and queen 
 address Hamlet as if he were a youth yet in tute- 
 lage, and not a man. The tone of rebuke and pa- 
 tronage, in the king's speech, would be intolerable 
 to a man of thirty. Claudius would only dare to 
 employ it to 
 
 A heart unfortified, a mind impatient. 
 An understanding simple and unschool'd; 
 
 Hamlet's reply to the queen's request— 
 
 I shall in all my best obey you, madam — 
 
 is not the answer made by a man whose love for his 
 mother constrains him to give up his own will to 
 please her, but it is the sullen submission of a youth, 
 who finds his wishes publicly opposed by his legal 
 
53 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 guardians, without whose assistance and consent he 
 can not go back to school. Obedience is not the 
 tribute a man of thirty pays his mother. If Hamlet 
 were really a man of those years, he would ex- 
 cite contempt, on this his first appearance, by sub- 
 mitting, as he does, to be so tutored and rebuked by 
 the king and queen. As a youth, we recognize at 
 onCe that he has no choice but to submit. He has 
 no revenue, — this appears afterward, — and, as the 
 prince who has the voice of the king for his succes- 
 sion, he can not choose his residence, or make one 
 for himself, as a poor subject could. He remains 
 in Elsinore because he must, but thenceforth Den- 
 mark appears a prison to him : had he, after this 
 public expression of his mother's will and the king's, 
 insisted on departing, he would have seemed head- 
 strong, rebellious, and disobedient. 
 
 In Act III. Scene IV. Hamlet is again repre- 
 sented as very young. This is the scene in which, 
 after the mock-play has given him proofs of the 
 ghost's trustworthiness, he rebukes his mother, and 
 tries to turn her from her guilty love. Polonius has 
 suggested that the queen shall summon Hamlet to 
 her chamber, after the play, and, all alone, entreat 
 him to show his griefs, and has offered, to the king, 
 to act as eaves-dropper. He goes before Hamlet to 
 the queen's closet, and tells her, — 
 
 Look you lay home to him : 
 Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, 
 And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between 
 Much heat and him. . . . 
 Pray you, be round with him. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 53 
 
 She replies : 
 
 I'll warrant you, 
 Fear me not : withdraw, I hear him coming. 
 
 " Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear 
 with, and that your grace hath screen'd and stood 
 between much heat and him ! " — " much heat " dis- 
 played by his uncle Claudius ! Why should a man 
 of thirty care whether Claudius displayed much 
 heat or little .' he would not expect to be disci- 
 plined by his uncle, and would need no screening, 
 nor would Polonius dare to dictate to the queen 
 how she should treat a son of thirty years, calling 
 his a.ctions pranks. 
 
 But the queen herself plainly indicates that her 
 son is young, not only by accepting Polonius's ad- 
 vice, but by her reproof to Hamlet. She is very 
 angry with him ; heretofore his insubordination has 
 been shown against the king, and against Polonius, 
 whom she herself dislikes, but to-night, by the mock- 
 play, Hamlet has insulted her, as well as the king, 
 by permitting a performance that criticised their 
 marriage in so open and undisguised a manner. 
 She does not know that Claudius murdered her 
 husband, and she does not know that, on the testi- 
 mony of the ghost, Hamlet knows her to be an 
 "adulteress : she feels that Polonius is justified in 
 saying " his pranks have been too broad to bear 
 with," and she means to reprove him sharply. To 
 her surprise, Hamlet does not come to her closet 
 with the manner of a son expecting deserved re- 
 proof; he calls to her impatiently: 
 
 Mother, mother, mother ! 
 
54 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 and, as he enters her presence, he does not wait to 
 hear why he was sent for, but asks : 
 
 Now, mother, what's the matter ? 
 This must seem to the queen pure insolence and 
 bravado, but she answers : 
 
 Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. 
 
 In this speech she at once rebukes Hamlet, and 
 shows she is prepared to defend her second marriage; 
 but Hamlet, instead of excusing himself, replies 
 to her : 
 
 Mother, you have my father much offended. 
 
 Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. 
 
 Ham. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. 
 
 Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet ! 
 
 (in the First Quarto, " How now boy ?" ) 
 
 Ham. What's the matter now ? 
 
 Queen. Have you forgot me ? 
 
 Ham. No, by the rood, not so : 
 
 You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife ; 
 
 And — would it were not so ! — you are my mother. 
 Queen. Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. 
 
 With these impatient words, Gertrude moves to- 
 ward the king's apartments, but Hamlet lays hold 
 on her, and stops her. 
 
 Do not Gertrude's words. 
 
 Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak, 
 
 make it evident that Hamlet is a very young man, 
 little more than a boy? She threatens him with a 
 scolding from his uncle, and expects him to be sub- 
 dued by dread of it. How puerile if the threat be 
 addressed to a man of thirty ! 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 55 
 
 Other passages in the play that indicate Hamlet's 
 youthfulness are these : Horatio says: 
 
 Let us impart what we have seen to night 
 Unto young Hamlet. — I. i. 169. 
 
 The ghost says : 
 
 I could a tale unfold whose lightest word 
 
 Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood. — L v. 15. 
 
 and again : 
 
 But know, thou noble youth. — 1. v. 38. 
 
 When Hamlet is about to follow the ghost to a 
 more removed ground, his friends try to prevent 
 his going, not by persuasion only, but by endeavor- 
 ing forcibly to restrain him. Marcellus says : 
 
 You shall not go, my lord. — I. iv. 79. 
 and Horatio adds : 
 
 Be ruled ; you shall not go. 
 and Marcellus : 
 
 Let's follow ; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. 
 This indicates rather the obligation they felt to 
 protect their young prince, than anxiety for a com- 
 rade of mature age. 
 Polonius says : 
 
 For Lord Hamlet, 
 Believe so much in him, that he is young. — L iii. 123. 
 
 and Laertes, speaking to Ophelia respecting Hamlet, 
 
 says : 
 
 For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour. 
 
 Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, 
 
 A violet in the youth of primy nature. — L iii. 5. 
 
 and again : 
 
S6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 For nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
 In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes. 
 The inward service of the mind and soul 
 Grows wide withal. 
 
 Was not Hamlet really a stripling who must be 
 expected to grow in thews and bulk ere he come to 
 man's estate? , Do not his own frequent compari- 
 sons of himself with Hercules suggest that he 
 keenly felt the lack of the bodily strength that en- 
 abled the latter, in his youth, to do such deeds of 
 valor? 
 
 Laertes, who is apparently about the same age as 
 Hamlet, is represented as a young fellow, not yet 
 perfected in the accomplishments of the day. Polo- 
 nius sends Reynaldo after him into France, with in- 
 structions to see how he is behaving himself, and a 
 special injunction : 
 
 And let him ply his music. — II. i. 73. 
 
 Laertes was pursuing his studies in France, as 
 Hamlet wanted to do at Wittenberg. 
 
 Claudius, speaking to Laertes about the latter's 
 skill in fencing, calls it : 
 
 A very riband in the cap of youth. — IV. vii. 78. 
 
 Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who are the school- 
 fellows of Hamlet, 
 
 being of so young days brought up with him. 
 And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and haviour. — II. ii. 11. 
 
 do not appear to have been men of mature age. 
 Fortinbras, who was no younger than Hamlet, as 
 his father was killed the day that Hamlet was born, 
 is spoken of by Horatio as — 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 57 
 
 young Fortinbras, 
 Of unimproved mettle hot and full. — I. i. 95. 
 
 and Claudius twice applies the same adjective, 
 young, to him [L ii. 17; 28] ; Hamlet calls him 
 
 a delicate and tender prince. — IV. iv. 48. 
 and even Osric speaks about 
 Young Fortinbras. 
 
 Young Fortinbras is represented as having no 
 revenue and no command : his uncle rebukes him 
 for taking up arms against Denmark, and, when he 
 abandons the idea, 
 
 old Norway, overcome with joy. 
 Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee. — II. ii. 72. 
 
 If young Fortinbras was come of age, would not 
 some provision have been already made for him, out 
 of the public revenue ? If Hamlet was thirty years 
 old, would not a maintenance have been provided 
 for him, during his father's lifetime, when he at- 
 tained his majority.? Several passages in the play 
 show this was not done. Hamlet says; 
 
 And what so poor a man as Hamlet is 
 
 May do, to express his love and friending to you, 
 
 God willing, shall not lack. — I. v. 184. 
 
 I will not sort you with the rest of my servants, for, to speak 
 to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. — II. 
 ii. 274. 
 
 Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks. — II. ii. 280. 
 
 I eat the air, promise-crammed : you cannot feed capons 
 so. — III. ii. 99. 
 
 The only passages, except the speech of the sex- 
 
58 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 ton, that indicate that Hamlet might have been 
 thirty, are the words of the player-king : 
 
 Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round. — III. ii. 165. 
 and the incidental allusion to king Hamlet's age, in 
 the statement : 
 
 Ham. His beard was grizzled, — no ? 
 Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, 
 A sable silver'd. — I. ii. 240. 
 
 but this is not worth considering except to note, 
 and cast it aside. 
 
 Do you say that this inquiry is a fruitless one, — 
 that it makes no difference whether Hamlet was 
 twenty years old or thirty? The coherence and 
 naturalness of the play depend upon our belief in 
 his youth. We expect greater maturity of judg- 
 ment, and more self-control, in a man than in a boy. 
 Ayouth of twenty, to whom sorrow was a stranger, 
 would bear his grief at his father's death, and his 
 mother's hasty marriage, differently from a man of 
 mature years. A youth in his nonage must, per- 
 force, submit to see his uncle pop in between the 
 election and his hopes, and fortify his claim to the 
 throne by a marriage with the imperial jointress, 
 who might otherwise be regent until her son was 
 come of age; but an ambitious man, who was 
 "loved of the distracted multitude," would not in- 
 dolently allow himself to be thus forced aside. 
 
 A man of thirty would have sufficient experience 
 of life to know that purity might still exist in 
 womankind, even though his own mother proved 
 criminal : he would not feel that her lapse in virtue 
 proved that all other women were vulnerable. This 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 59 
 
 is the judgment of a very young man, who loves for 
 the first time. A man of thirty, who was called 
 upon to revenge his father's murder, would not 
 think it necessary to feign madness to cover his 
 design and make it fruitful : he would make no 
 change in his daily life, he would do nothing to ex- 
 cite suspicion; he would secretly lay his plans, and, 
 when they were ripe, he would try to execute them. 
 Hamlet, by his assumption of madness, exposes 
 himself to espionage and to confinement, either of 
 which is likely to defeat his ends. Admitting that 
 a mature mind would adopt the screen of pretended 
 madness, the disguise would be consistently kept 
 up — there would be no explanation to Rosencrantz 
 
 and Guildenstern : " I am but mad nortli-north- 
 
 .1. » 
 
 west. 
 
 Hamlet's submission to his own exile, without a 
 word of expostulation, proves that he was young 
 and almost friendless at the court. A man of 
 thirty would have made influential friends, who 
 would demand an explanation from the king 
 when their prince was spirited away. The isola- 
 tion in which Hamlet lived was not the result of his 
 own desire for solitude, but of his youth. We 
 know this from the eagerness with which he wel- 
 comed Horatio and his two -school-fellows. The 
 friends of his childhood— friends that he had made 
 before he went to Wittenberg— were too young to 
 have any influence or standing at the court, and 
 Hamlet on his return thither found himself alone. 
 Claudius's allusion to 
 
 the great love the general gender bear him, 
 
6o THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 proves, rather than disproves this. The " gen- 
 eral gender" had been accustomed to think of 
 Hamlet as their future king, and they loved him 
 for what he was, and what they hoped he should 
 become. 
 
 The bearing of Hamlet to the sentinels and Ho- 
 ratio (I. V. Ii6) indicates his youth. He had left 
 them to go with the ghost, and it was natural to 
 suppose that he would make known to them what- 
 ever passed out of their sight and hearing, — the 
 ghost had appeared first to them. They followed 
 Hamlet, and came upon him before he had decided 
 hov/ much he should impart to them : he meant to 
 keep the revelation secret, but he lacked savoirfaire. 
 A man would have told them, at once, that he had 
 heard what he could not reveal. Knowing that the 
 secret was his only, he would not hesitate to deny 
 them knowledge of it, and impose secrecy upon 
 them ; but Hamlet, not knowing how to deal with 
 the subject, tried to joke their inquiries aside. Col- 
 eridge says, "The terrible, by a law of the human 
 mind, always touches on the verge of the ludicrous." 
 Hamlet is so excited and overwrought that sober 
 words can neither express nor conceal his feelings, 
 and he attempts, by flippancy, to impose not only 
 on his hearers, but -on himself. By deriding and 
 minifying the source of his emotion, he hopes to 
 persuade himself, as well as his friends, that he is 
 unduly moved ; that a legitimate cause for such in- 
 tense agitation does not exist. On how many 
 other occasions have the most solemn and sorrow- 
 ful emotions been expressed by a burst of hysteri- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 6i 
 
 cal laughter, — Nature's revenge when the relief of 
 tears is denied her.* 
 
 " Hamlet ridicules the ghost ; calls him " old 
 mole," " truepenny," "worthy pioner," "this fel- 
 low in the cellarage;" but he can not make him- 
 self believe that the voice he hears is not his fath- 
 er's. His only defense against his companions' 
 curiosity is mocking speech, and finally irritated 
 denial. His youthful irritability shows in contrast 
 to Horatio's grave assertion of his own dignity; 
 Horatio is hurt by Hamlet's brusqueness, and he 
 reminds the prince: 
 
 These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. 
 Hamlet says : 
 
 * In confirmation of this idea, I quote from Kean and the 
 Elder Booth, edited by Brander Matthews and Laurence Hut- 
 ton. In this work, Edwin Booth, writing of his father, says : 
 " Great minds to madness closely are allied. Hamlet's 
 mind, at the very edge of frenzy, seeks its relief in ribaldry. 
 For a like reason would my father open, so to speak, the safety- 
 valve of levity in some of his most impassioned moments. At 
 the instant of intense emotion, when the spectators were en- 
 thralled by its magnetic influence, the tragedian's overwrought 
 brain would take refuge from its own threatening storm be- 
 neath the jester's hood, and while turned from the audience he 
 would whisper some silliness or ' make a face.' When he left 
 the stage, however, no allusion to such seeming frivolity was 
 permitted. His fellow-actors who perceived these trivialities 
 ignorantly attributed his conduct at such times to lack of feel- 
 ing, whereas it was the extreme excess of feeling which thus 
 forced his brain back from the verge of madness. Only those 
 who have known the torture of severe mental tension can ap- 
 preciate the value of that one little step from the sublime to 
 the ridiculous." 
 
62 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 I'm sorry they offend you, heartily ; 
 Yes 'faith, heartily. 
 
 Hor. There's no offence, my lord. 
 
 Ham. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, 
 And much offence too. Touching this vision here, 
 It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you : 
 For your desire to know what is between us, 
 O'ermaster 't as you may. — I. v. 133. 
 
 A man of the world would have known how t( 
 turn aside the inquiries of his friends, without s( 
 plainly indicating that he was doing so. 
 
 In Act V. Scene II. we see another indication o 
 Hamlet's youth, in the manner in which he receive: 
 Osric when he brings him the challenge to the pro 
 posed fencing match. Hamlet is engaged in serioui 
 talk with Horatio when " this water-fly " interrupt; 
 them : he receives him gravely enough, but in j 
 moment yields to the temptation to chaff him. Tc 
 an older man there would have been no temptation 
 A Hamlet of thirty might have told Osric to mak< 
 his speech intelligible, but he would not have at 
 tempted to lay down counter for counter with him 
 until his purse was empty, and all his golden word: 
 were spent. The fencing with Laertes was not ; 
 proof of youth, but this silly bantering of Osric was 
 Hamlet accepted the challenge, not from vanity 
 but because it offered him a means to be reconcilec 
 to Laertes, and was an opportunity to " court hii 
 favours " that Hamlet — true gentleman that h( 
 was — was only too happy tO embrace. 
 
 The testimony of the grave-digger as to Hamlet' 
 age, it seems to me, should be set aside ; the plai 
 indicates his youth so clearly, in so many places 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 63 
 
 that it would be perverse to insist on thirty as the 
 number of his years. For the maturity of his 
 thoughts, which seem those of a much older man, 
 the poet must be held accountable. It is Shakes- 
 peare who thinks, not Hamlet. Shakespeare loves 
 a young man. Many of his heroes are as young, or 
 younger. Orlando had not grown a beard, nor had 
 Troilus nor Adonis : Bertram, in All's Well, was the 
 king's ward, too young to go to the Florentine war: 
 Florizel looked twenty-one, but may have been 
 younger : the two boys, Cadwal and Polydore, were 
 twenty and twenty-three; and Posthumus was very 
 young. Shakespeare does not represent any of 
 these youths with so mature a mind as Hamlet's, 
 but his precocity is not experience of men or things, 
 it is exhibited chiefly in imaginative speculation 
 upon life and death : it would not surprise us to 
 find all that seems precocious in him, attributed as 
 natural to several of Shakespeare's female charac- 
 ters, — to Helen, in All's Well, and Marina, daughter 
 to Pericles, for instance. 
 
 The play becomes much more pathetic and beau- 
 tiful when we perceive that Hamlet, a young man 
 on whom all his coming years should smile, is, in 
 their spring, ruthlessly despoiled of all the hopes 
 and illusions that usually accompany and glorify 
 that age. The blows that shatter his ideals come 
 from his father and his mother, who should be his 
 shield against the world : there is imposed on him 
 a task from which the maturest mind might shrink, 
 and we love and pity him, as he makes his brave 
 fight, because he is so young. 
 
64 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 My judgment is that Hamlet was not twenty- 
 one. I have set down the ground on which I form 
 it, and to them I add, that in the Hystorie, p. 290 
 and elsewhere, it is expressly stated that he had not 
 come to man's estate. 
 
V. 
 
 Having arrived at a conclusion about Hamlet's 
 age — or youth, — let us consider carefully what was 
 his state of mind, and what the conditions that sur- 
 rounded him at the beginning of the play. The first 
 scene informs us that Denmark, under a new king, 
 is in hasty preparation for an attack young Fortin- 
 bras intends to make on it : we hear that he de- 
 sires to wrest from the kingdom certain lands that 
 were won from his father in single combat by the 
 late king Hamlet. Our young prince of course 
 should feel a special interest in the proposed in- 
 vasion of Danish soil, but we are not told that he 
 does, nor from the first scene do we learn anything 
 about his state of mind or body. The second scene, 
 however, exposes Hamlet's mental condition. On 
 its opening we see Hamlet for the first time ; we see 
 him melancholy to such an extent that he thinks he 
 desires to die. His father's death, which occurred 
 not quite two months before, was not the chief or 
 only cause for his unhappii^ess. Hamlet had been 
 recalled from Wittenberg to attend his father's 
 funeral: the late king had been embalmed, and his 
 sepulture delayed until his son — his only child — ar- 
 rived. The messenger who was sent to tell Hamlet 
 of his father's death occupied many days on his 
 journey, as did Hamlet on his return to Elsinore. 
 
 65 
 
66 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 The double journey to and from Wittenberg must 
 have consumed nearly a month. (The ambassadors 
 Claudius sends to Norway are represented as re- 
 quiring full two months for their journey thither 
 and back.) Hamlet loved his father passionately 
 and devotedly, his grief at his death was poignant 
 and sincere; but on the weary journey home from 
 Wittenberg, he had full time to moderate the ex- 
 pression of his sorrow, and' to adjust himself to his 
 new life as he supposed it lay before him. He ex- 
 pected, when he reached Elsinore, to be welcomed 
 as the king-; his uncle or his mother might be re- 
 gent for a year or two, but he prepared to bear 
 himself right kingly, and the sense of his duties ahd 
 responsibilities helped to control and dissipate the 
 first passion of grief for his father's death. When 
 he reached Denmark his sorrow was augmented, and 
 mingled with it was the knowledge that he had been 
 cheated and despoiled. 
 
 He found that his uncle had " popped in between 
 the election and his hopes," and that he — Clau- 
 dius — was now king of Denmark, — the royal Dane. 
 Joined to Hamlet's sense of humiliation and defeat 
 was the feeling that the manes of his father had 
 been dishonored when his son was thrust aside from 
 the succession. The throne of Denmark was elect- 
 ive, and Claudius filled it by the will of the people ; 
 but Hamlet felt that the election had been secured 
 by chicanery and fraud, and he was very sore. The 
 Hystorie (p. 323) represents Hamlet as claiming the 
 throne as his inheritance, and declaring himself the 
 lawful successor of his father. He could better have 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 67 
 
 borne his doubled sorrow had he seen reason to 
 hope that his uncle might be deposed. If his 
 mother would unite with him in disputing Claudius's 
 title to the throne, Hamlet might expect so to press 
 his claims that they would be acknowledged. But 
 Hamlet found his mother arrayed against him, joined 
 to the party of his enemies, — joined by a tie closer 
 even than that which bound her to him ; she was 
 now one flesh with the usurper, married to him 
 before the shoes 'were old in which she followed her 
 first husband to the grave. Hamlet then, when the 
 play opens, has lost not only his father, but his 
 mother and his kingdom, and, in this second scene, 
 he- is forbidden even the poor consolation of ab- 
 senting himself from the spot where everything re- 
 minds him of his loss. The constraint put upon 
 him is made doubly bitter by the ease with which 
 Laertes obtains permission to return to France to 
 his studies. We do not know what Claudius's de- 
 sign was in keeping Hamlet in Elsinore ; it may be 
 he had' already determined to make his seat secure 
 by compassing Hamlet's death. In the Hystorie 
 (p. 239) Hamlet reproaches his mother because she 
 did not find means to save her child " by sending 
 him into Swethland, Norway, or England, rather 
 then to leaue him as a pray to youre infamous 
 adulterer." 
 
 At the end of this second scene, in which Hamlet 
 has made plain his animosity toward Claudius, his 
 First Soliloquy makes clear to us his feeling toward 
 his mother, and his weariness of the world, as he 
 now finds it. His words are : 
 
68 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 O, that this too too sohd flesh would melt, 
 
 Thaw and resolve itself into a dew ! 
 
 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
 
 His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! O God ! O God ! 
 
 How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, 
 
 Seem to me all the uses of this world ! 
 
 Fie on't ! ah fie ! 'tis an unweeded garden, 
 
 That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature 
 
 Possess it merely. That it should come to this ! 
 
 But two months dead ; nay, not so much, not two : 
 
 So excellent a king ; that was, to this, 
 
 Hyperion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother 
 
 That he might not beteem the winds of heaven 
 
 Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth ! 
 
 Must I remember } why, she would hang on him. 
 
 As if increase of appetite had grown 
 
 By what it fed on : and yet, within a month — 
 
 Let me not think on't — Frailty, thy name is woman ! — 
 
 A little month, or ere those shoes were old 
 
 With which she foUow'd my poor father's body. 
 
 Like Niobe, all tears : — why she, even she — 
 
 O God ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason. 
 
 Would have mourn'd longer — married with my uncle. 
 
 My father's brother, but no more like my father 
 
 Than I to Hercules : within a month : 
 
 Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears 
 
 Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, 
 
 She married. O, most wicked speed, to post 
 
 With such dexterity to incestuous sheets ! 
 
 It is not nor it cannot come to good : 
 
 But break, my heart ; for I must hold my tongue. 
 
 In speaking this soliloquy an actor might help 
 his audience to understand that Hamlet believes 
 himself unlawfully extruded from the throne. On 
 the exit of the court let him indignantly rush to the 
 seat that Claudius had occupied as though to take 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 69 
 
 possession of it, and, stopping short, seem to re- 
 strain himself because of the image of his father 
 seated there, which his imagination brings before 
 him. Let him draw forth the portrait of his father, 
 and compare it with the picture in his mind's eye, 
 and then, turning away, prostrated by grief, begin 
 the soliloquy. 
 
 The first words of this soliloquy, as it is now ren- 
 dered, are : 
 
 O, that this too too solid flesh would melt. 
 
 Thaw and resolve itself into a dew ! 
 
 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
 
 His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! 
 
 This is the reading of the First Folio, but the First 
 Quarto reads: 
 
 O that this too much grieu'd and fallied flefh 
 Would melt to nothing, or that the vniuerfall 
 Globe of heauen would turne al to a Chaos ! 
 
 In the Second Quarto this becomes: 
 
 O that this too too fallied flefh would melt, 
 Thaw and refolfue it selfe into a dewe. 
 Or that the euerlafting had not fixt 
 His cannon gainft feale flaughter. 
 
 According to Stratmann (who, however, makes 
 many mistakes and omissions), all the editions pre- 
 ceding the Folio of 1623 — the First Folio — have 
 " too too sallied flesh." I think this reading should 
 be restored, unless we go further and adopt the 
 reading of the First Quarto. Its words show the 
 meaning of the line, and "too much grieved and 
 sallied flesh " is as much more elegant an^dignified 
 than " too too sallied flesh," as this surpasses in ex- 
 
70 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 pressiveness and beauty the " too too solid " of our 
 modern editions. Hamlet felt that he was grieved 
 and assailed on every side ; the obligation to remain 
 in Elsinore was a new blow. Sallied is an adjec- 
 tive made from the noun sally, and has a kindred 
 meaning with attacked, made from the noun attack. 
 Hamlet, because he felt that he was too much 
 grieved (or wounded) and assailed to endure his 
 misery, wished that his too too sallied flesh — his 
 bodily frame — would melt and let loose the impris- 
 oned soul ; and, in expressing this wish in these 
 words he confides to us the reason why he wishes it, 
 while this reason is not conveyed by the modern 
 reading. 
 
 I wish to direct attention to the fact that while 
 Hamlet believes that, he would gladly be relieved of 
 life, he recognizes that the way to happiness through 
 death is barred by the canon which the Everlasting 
 has fixed 'gainst self-slaughter: he wishes for death, 
 but he does not now, nor at any future time, con- 
 template seeking it by suicide, or against the will 
 of his Heavenly Father. Submission to lawful 
 authority is the rule of Hamlet's life. His disgust 
 at his mother's conduct is intense, but obedience to 
 parents is so fixed a principle with him that he sub- 
 mits, without a word of remonstrance, when Ger- 
 trude's second marriage settles his future life. In 
 this First Soliloquy he does not manifest any per- 
 sonal feeling because of his mother's desertion of 
 himself, but all his reproaches are aimed at her 
 because she could so soon forget a husband like his 
 father, and replace him by his uncle. It is rather a 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 71 
 
 trick with Hamlet to formulate his conclusions — 
 the result of his reflections, and he does so in this 
 soliloquy in the words, " Frailty, thy name is woman." 
 He does not yet know that his mother was false 
 during his father's lifetime, but his judgment from 
 her conduct as he sees it is, " Frailty, thy name is " 
 — not Gertrude, but — " woman ! " He argues from 
 one to all, and all womankind he draws sweepsTake 
 in his conclusion: this judgment afterward influ- 
 ences his decision as to Ophelia's ability to resist 
 temptation. I 
 
 Hamlet is interrupted in his soliloquy by Horatio, 
 who comes, with the two sentinels, to tell him that 
 for the past three nights, what seems to be his 
 father's spirit has appeared on the platform where 
 they watched. Hamlet greets Horatio with affec- 
 tion, and a display of sincere friendship and inti- 
 macy. Although his friend must have been at least 
 a month in Elsinore, having come thither to the late 
 king's funeral, Hamlet has not seen him nor heard 
 of his presence there: this lack of knowledge indi- 
 cates how entirely he has separated himself from 
 the court and submitted to the hopeless sadness 
 that shut down lipon him when he returned to 
 Denmark. Ophelia has probably been his only 
 companion ; in her society he could for a while 
 forget his grief, and he indulged himself in the com- 
 fort of her presence until he had won her love and 
 awakened a responsive passion in his own breast. 
 
 After questioning Horatio and his two friends 
 calmly and with coherence of thought and speech, 
 Hamlet decides to join them in their watch that 
 
72 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 night, hoping, he knows not what. On his return 
 to Denmark he had been told the story of his 
 father's death, but had given it only half belief. 
 He sa'w that godlike body 
 
 bark'd about, 
 Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust. 
 
 and the story that a serpent's sting had produced 
 so remarkable an effect has proved incredible. He 
 doubts some foul play, but in what particular 
 thought to act he knows not. Now the intelligence 
 that his father's spirit is in arms encourages him to 
 hope that aid may come to him from the other 
 world. His faith in the eternal justice is so strong 
 that he believes, 
 
 foul deeds will rise, 
 Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. 
 
 Thus, at the end of the second scene, we see that 
 Hamlet is aroused from his lethargy, and, impatient 
 for the coming of the night, is already cherishing a 
 hope that his condition may be changed. 
 
VI, 
 
 Immediately after Hamlet has expressed his in- 
 tention that night to question the apparition should 
 it again assume the appearance of his father, but 
 before the hour has arrived for him to do so, 
 Ophelia is introduced to us. It is the poet's wisdom 
 that shows us Hamlet's feeling against his mother 
 before the interview with the ghost. It is also his 
 wisdom that makes Scene III. — the parting of Laer- 
 tes from Ophelia and Polonius — precede the reve- 
 lation of Gertrude's guilt, and Hamlet's consequent 
 determination to ren mm re-Ophelia. 
 
 From the moral training that Polonius would give 
 his daughter there could scarcely result a pure- 
 minded, high-principled, self-controlling character. 
 The precepts that he parroted over to Laertes were 
 mere echoes of other people's morality ; his real 
 nature, and his views on the subject of youthful 
 education, are shown in Act II. Scene I. when he 
 gives Reynaldo his instructions as to the means he 
 shall employ to discover how Laertes is behaving 
 himself in France, The instructions are these : 
 
 Pol. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. 
 
 Rey. I will, my lord. 
 
 Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, 
 
 Before you visit him, to make inquire 
 
 Of his behaviour. 
 Rey. My lord, I did intend it. 
 
 73 
 
74 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Pol. Marry, well said ; very well said. Look you, sir. 
 
 Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris ; 
 
 And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, 
 
 What company, at what expense ; and finding 
 
 By this encompassment and drift of question 
 
 That they do know my son, come you more nearer 
 
 Than your particular demands will touch it : 
 
 Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him ; 
 
 As thus, ' I know his father and his friends, 
 
 And in part him :' do you mark this, Reynaldo? 
 Rey. Ay, very well, my lord. 
 Pol. ' And in part him ; but' you may say ' not well : 
 
 But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild ; 
 
 Addicted so and so : ' and there put on him 
 
 What forgeries you please ; marry, none so rank 
 
 As may dishonour him ; take heed of that ; 
 
 But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips 
 
 As are companions noted and most known 
 
 To youth and liberty. 
 Pey. As gaming, my lord. 
 
 Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, 
 
 Drabbing : you may go so far. 
 Pey. My lord, that would dishonour him 
 Pol. 'Faith, no ; as you may season it in the charge. 
 
 You must not put another scandal on him. 
 
 That he is open to incontinency ; 
 
 That's not my meaning : but breathe his faults so quaintly 
 
 That they may seem the taints of liberty. 
 
 The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, 
 
 A savageness in unreclaimed blood. 
 
 Of general assault. 
 Pey. But, my good lord, — 
 
 Pol. Wherefore should you do this ? 
 Pey. Ay, my lord, 
 
 I would know that. 
 Pol. Marry, sir, here's my drift ; 
 
 And, I believe, it is a fetch of wit : 
 
 You laying these slight sullies on my son. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 75 
 
 As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, 
 
 Mark you, 
 
 Your party in converse, him you would sound, 
 
 Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes 
 
 The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured 
 
 He closes with you in this consequence ; 
 
 ' Good sir,' or so, or ' friend,' or ' gentleman," 
 
 According to the phrase or the addition 
 
 Of man and country. 
 Rey. Very good, my lord. 
 
 Pol. And then, sir, does he this — he does — what was I about 
 
 to say ? By the mass, I was about to say something: where 
 
 did I leave ? 
 Rey. At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' and 
 
 ' gentleman.' ' 
 
 Pol. At ' closes in the consequence,' ay, marry ; 
 
 He closes thus : ' I know the gentleman; 
 
 I saw him yesterday, or t'other day. 
 
 Or then, or then ; with such or such ; and, as you say. 
 
 There was a' gaming ; there o'ertook in's rouse ; 
 
 There falling out at tennis :' or perchance, 
 
 ' I saw him enter such a house of sale,' 
 
 Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. 
 
 See you now ; 
 
 Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth : 
 
 And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, 
 
 With windlasses and with assays of bias. 
 
 By indirections find directions out : 
 
 So by my former lecture and advice. 
 
 Shall you my son. You have me, have you not ? 
 Rey. My lord, I have. 
 
 Pol. God be wi' you ; fare you well. 
 
 Rey. Good my lord ! 
 
 Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself. 
 
 Rey. I shall, my lord. 
 
 Pol. And let him ply his music. 
 Rey. Well, my lord. 
 
 Pol. Farewell ! 
 
^6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 From a father who entertains such broad ideas as 
 to what would dishonor his son, Ophelia has re- 
 ceived her moral training. _ She has grow nto woman- 
 ' ho od withou t a mother's tender care and guidance, 
 and never has been taught either to control her im- 
 pulseSjjor_jQ. know the danger that would jresult 
 Trom the indulgence of them. We see her first in 
 the third scene, unless, indeed, she was present 
 with the other ladies of the court in the preceding 
 scene. Shakespeare seems especially to present 
 Ophelia now, so that we may know the ground for 
 Hamlet's decision, when, that same night, after the 
 revelation of the ghost, the suspicion of her pos- 
 sible frailty presents itself to him. 
 
 Her brother, who fondly loves her, is parting from 
 her to go to France : he has bidden her farewell, 
 but he lingers to caution her against the entertain- 
 ment of Hamlet's love, — first, because Hamlet may 
 change; and second, because his station may make 
 it difificult for him to choose as he would. But 
 Laertes goes further still ; he cautions her against 
 herself ; he bids her — 
 
 Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain. 
 
 If with too credent ear you list his songs. 
 
 Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open 
 
 To his unmaster'd importunity. 
 
 Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister. 
 
 And keep you in the rear of your affection. 
 
 Out of the shot and danger of desire, 
 
 .... best safety lies in fear : 
 Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. 
 
 Ophelia, who is always obedient and pliant, answers 
 to this : 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 77 
 
 I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, 
 As watchman to my heart. 
 
 but her answer does not end here : the rest is 
 either impudent, or shows the extreme of innocence ; 
 it certainly is not the reply we should expect a 
 chaste, pure-minded, self-restraining maid to make ; 
 it is not the answer that Miranda in like circum- 
 'stances, or Marina, would have made: 
 But, good my brother. 
 Do no*, as some ungracious pastors do. 
 Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven ; 
 Whiles, like a puff 'd and reckless libertine. 
 Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, 
 And recks not his own rede. 
 
 Ophelia manifests that hers was a nature for which 
 the primrose path of dalliance had strong attractions. 
 This is plainly indicated by Laertes's speech, and her 
 reply to it, and by her father's succeeding caution. 
 Ophelia's words, in this scene, should be so ren- 
 dered as absolutely to disclose her disposition to 
 the audience. Her first reply to Laertes — No 
 more but so? — should be given with no touch of 
 sadness or of belief in his estimate of Hamlet's^ 
 favors, but rather with an airy confidence resulting 
 from the reflection that her brother does not know, 
 as she does, that Hamlet has importuned her with 
 love in honorable fashion. This confidence should 
 animate her all through the conversation- ^j^^ 
 Laertes, and should continue through the covc^^^^k 
 tion with her father, until he commands her ^c>^^^^| 
 of? all irvtj&reojjrse \^flfl^ prince : then she snqBjH 
 sho^^^ the grief she^^^^Bj^ch a harsh and, as she 
 brieves, unnecess^^j^^^^B^d. 
 
78 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Polonius's cautions are evoked by some words in 
 Laertes's farewell to Ophelia, and he asks: 
 
 Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you ? 
 
 Oph. So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. 
 
 Pol. Marry, well bethought : 
 
 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late 
 
 Given private time to you ; and you yourself 
 
 Have of your audience been most free and bounteous : 
 
 If it be so, as so 'tis put on me. 
 
 And that in way of caution, I must tell you, 
 
 You do not understand yourself so clearly 
 
 • As it behoves my daughter and your honour. 
 What is between you? give me up the truth. 
 
 Oph. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders 
 Of his affection to me. 
 
 Pol. Affection 1 pooh ! you speak like a green girl. 
 Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. 
 Do you believe his tenders, as you call them ? 
 
 Oph. I do nojJ jjaow^-myUQrd, what I should 4fein-k. 
 
 Pol. Marry, I'll teach you : think yourself a baby ; 
 That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay. 
 Which are not sterHng. Tender yourself more dearly ; 
 Or — not to crack the wind of the poor phrase. 
 Running it thus — you'll tender me a fool. 
 
 Oph. My lord, he hath importuned me with love 
 ^ In honourable fashion. 
 
 Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it ; go to, go to. 
 
 Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord. 
 With almost all the holy vows of heaven. 
 
 Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, 
 \Vhen the blood burns, how prodigal the soul 
 ^^ds the tongue vows : these blazes, daughter, 
 ^■|ing more light than heat, extinct in both, 
 HKn in their promise, as it is^n^cing, 
 Vou must not take for firej^^^^B^is time 
 Be somewhat scanter of Jf^^^^^B presence ; 
 Set your entreatments ^^^^^^BPite 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 79 
 
 Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, 
 
 Believe so much in him, that he is young. 
 
 And with a larger tether may he walk 
 ] Than may be given to you : in few, Ophelia, 
 \ Do not believe his vows ; for they are brokers, 
 ' Not of that dye which their investments show, 
 I But mere implorators of unholy suits. 
 
 Breathing hke sanctified and pious bawds, 
 
 The better to beguile. This is for all : 
 
 I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, 
 
 Have you so slander any moment leisure, 
 
 As to give words or talk to the lord Hamlet. 
 
 Look to 't, I charge you : come your ways. 
 OpA. I shall obey, my lord. 
 
 J[n_J|us. scene_ OpheliAJs_£autiQiL?.^^ first by her"^ 
 brother, and then by her father, not only to doubt 
 TKeTntegrity of Hamlet's professions of love, but to 
 restrain her own desires, and to guard her honor. 
 Had Polonius or Laertes appreciated the absolute 
 uprightness of Hamlet's character, these warnings 
 would have remained unuttered, but they both 
 judge him b)^what^.,theiagg.Jxgs__?re., capable of. 
 They~3o~not suppose that the prince is contem- 
 plating marriage — such an ending to the love-story 
 they gladly would accomplish— but they fear that 
 he may tempt the maiden, and tkej/ fear that she 
 ■will not resist. Polonius speaks with much warmth, 
 telling Ophelia that people have observed her lack 
 of maidenly reserve, and have cautioned him in 
 reference to the danger there might be to her in 
 such close intimacy with Hamlet. Have her father 
 and Laertes such a knowledge of Ophelia's dispo- 
 sition that they know this warning to be needed ? 
 It is a strong measure absolutely to forbid a young 
 
I 
 
 80 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 maid to " give words or talk with " a lover, unless 
 he be a libertine. Do they fear Ophelia will melt in 
 her own fire ? At any rate they doubt the ability 
 of her virtue to resist assault, and " others " have 
 conceived the same doubts : she is innocent, but her 
 innocence i^/t he innocence of un assailed ignorance 
 and not of principle. This is the view ot Ophelia's 
 character which is first presented to us by the poet :i 
 
 ^we see her ability to resist temptation doubted by 
 those who know her best, and by others. We see 
 that her very obedience arid pliability expose her to^ 
 danger : she should have made a braver fight for her 
 lover, and repelled the insinuations of her father and 
 her brother — they should have been intolerable to 
 
 I her, not only on her own account but on his. 
 
 We shall be constrained to believe, as we examine 
 the play, that, in Ophelia, Shakespeare has repro- 
 duced the • " faire and beawtifuU woman \ of the 
 \„ . ^ 
 
 .^j/crzV who was set "toentice Hamlet. She was a 
 gentlewoman who " from her infancy loved and 
 favored " Hamlet, and who now loved him " more 
 than herself." Exactly such a character as the 
 Hystorie discloses we could not cover with even the 
 broad mantle of charity; therefore Shakespeare al- 
 ters and modifies it, depicting Ophelia as an inno- 
 cent maiden who was truly described by Goethe in 
 these words :* 
 
 " Her whole existence flows in sweet and ripe sen- 
 sation. Her attachment to the Prince, to whose 
 hand she may aspire, flows so spontaneously, her 
 
 * Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, p. 228. Translated 
 by R. Dillon Boylan. London 1870. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 8i 
 
 affectionate heart yields so completely to its impulse, 
 that both her father and brother are afraid, and 
 both give her plain and direct warning of her dan- 
 ger. Decorum, like the thin crape upon her bosom, 
 can not conceal the motions of her heart, but on 
 the contrary it betrays them. Her imagination is 
 engaged, her silent modesty breathes a sweet desire, 
 and if the convenient goddess Opportunity should 
 shake the tree, the fruit would quickly fall." ■ ' 
 
 The censure of Polonius and Laertes, while it 
 seems harsh, is not unnecessary. Ophelia is so truly 
 i nnocent and unconscious, that even the cause of 
 her own sensations is riot recognized by her ; she 
 knows that all the currents of her being set to 
 Hamlet, but she recognizes nothing of the danger 
 involved in being carried onward by them. In 
 Hamlet's presence, and with him, she delights to 
 tread " the primrose path of dalliance." This Ham- 
 let knows, and the knowledge leads him afterward 
 to condemn her for a fault that he, and he only, 
 "jTad-tejo^it e d h e FT o~e oui ii lit. 
 
 All our sympathies enwrap Oph"elia when we see 
 her repudiated and disowned by a lover whom she 
 does not know that she has ever offended. This 
 double strain in the tragedy — H amlet condemjl iag 
 before it is proven that condemnation is necessary, 
 and Ophelia suffenn9'Tor'al[i^7i\S'rS^'^'^ noU k-nniy 
 
 she has committed — gives to the present view of the 
 play its'" special charm. From Hamlet's point of 
 view we agree with him, and justify him in his de- 
 cision to renounce his love. We admit, when he re- 
 minds us of it, that by a.: maiden's behavior before 
 marriage we can foretell and determine her de- 
 
82 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 meanor after it ; we agree in thinking that reserve 
 and self-control are necessary qualities in a girl who 
 is to make a faithful, self-respecting wife. 
 
 But when Ophelia discloses her deep and true 
 affection, supposing that she is revealing only that 
 of Hamlet, we see it is nature and not depravity 
 that speaks. We long to tell the maid what her 
 dead mother would have told her. We weep in spirit 
 when we see her agony at the belief that, by her 
 absolute obedience to her father's harsh command, 
 she has dethroned Hamlet's " noble and most sove- 
 reign reason." We mourn over the sorrow these 
 two young souls endure : how gladly would we use 
 our knowledge of them both to make the truth clear 
 to their wounded hearts. Shakespeare puts us in this 
 position, where we can hear and justify both sides. 
 We are the gods who sit above the clouds, longing 
 to help, but knowing that a clumsy interfering 
 touch will disarrange more than it would relieve. 
 We see the cross-purposes with which the play 
 abounds ; the irony of Fate is made clear to us ; we 
 £ealize_that it Is from the^lesaons of .tke ijueett-tiiat 
 Hamlet has constructed his ideal of wonjJLOly v^irtue, 
 and we know the horrid truth, that these lessons 
 were given with the hope that by preaching purity 
 she would be esteemed to practice it. Even for 
 those who have not gained our clearer insight the 
 story has a boundless charm ; for us it is the play of 
 plays: every light cast upon it reveals a new beauty. 
 It is the picture of the life we live or that is lived 
 beside us every hour. 
 
 Shakespeare, then, showed us Ophelia, and let her 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 83 
 
 disclose her disposition to us thus early in the play, 
 so that we might not absolutely rebel when inexo r- 
 able faithfulness to his own ideal made Hamlet 
 
 deterniine to tear his lovefor her out of his heart, 
 and t o separate her froni his life ; this he does on 
 the night of the same day that the gentle maiden is 
 introduced to us. 
 
VII. 
 
 In the fourth scene of the first act Hamlet goes 
 to the platform to await the appearance of the ghost. 
 As this is not a eulogy but an exposition of Shakes- 
 peare, I shall not now, nor as we advance, direct 
 attention to, or speak in admiration of, any of the 
 manifold beauties of the play : I am not more capa- 
 ble to discover and appreciate these than my reader. 
 Nor shall I step aside to allude to the interpreta- 
 tions that have been put by critics on certain 
 phras6s or situations, unless it be absolutely neces- 
 sary to the unfolding of the story. While I believe 
 that the student who for the first time compares 
 the original editions with our modern edition will 
 be struck by many manifestly corrupt readings, yet 
 this is not an examination of the text of Hamlet, but 
 of the story ; and I mean to confine myself to point- 
 ing out what the story is that the text expounds, 
 passing quickly from points that need no explication, 
 and repeating, again and again, what I believe to be 
 the explanation of passages of confused or doubtful 
 meaning. 
 
 Hamlet, then, waits on the platform, with his 
 friends, for the appearance of the ghost. He is not 
 nervous or apprehensive, he is even cheerful, he has, 
 his nerves and mental forces so under control that 
 he can chat with Horatio about the bad habits of his 
 
 84 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 85 
 
 uncle, and put his moralizings on the subject into a 
 didactic, epigrammatic form. The truth is, he does 
 not thoroughly believe the ghost story; he is not on 
 the qui vive, and the apparition enters unseen by 
 him. His first words, when Horatio calls his atten- 
 tion to it, show that the majesty of the ghost's ap- 
 pearance and its resemblance to his father have 
 surprised him. Little by little he lets belief take 
 hold on him, until at last he calls the apparition — 
 " Hamlet, King, Father, Royal Dane," but to this 
 invocation the ghost is dumb. Hamlet's interest 
 and excitement grow so intense that he breaks away 
 from his friends, who would forcibly restrain him, 
 and, following the ghost, he leaves the scene with 
 it. Alone with the spirit, dread takes hold on him, 
 and he stops, fearing it may indeed be a " goblin 
 damn'd" who is leading him to destruction. 
 
 Ham. Where wilt thou lead me } speak ; I'll go no further. 
 
 Ghost. Mark me. 
 
 Ham. I will. 
 
 Ghost. My hour is almost come, 
 
 When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames 
 
 Must render up myself. 
 Ham. Alas, poor ghost ! 
 
 Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing 
 
 To what I shall unfold. 
 Ham. Speak ; I am bound to hear. 
 
 Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. 
 Ham. What? 
 Ghost. I am thy father's spirit, etc. 
 
 Hamlet's answers, when the ghost first speaks, 
 show that the critical faculty is aroused in him, and 
 that he intends to weigh whatever he may hear, and 
 
86 • THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 decide, with the help of his reason, whether the 
 spirit comes with " intents wicked or charitable." 
 After the first replies, which suggest an incredulity 
 that is rebuked by the ghost in the words, — 
 
 So art thou to revenge, when thou shall hear, — 
 Hamlet listens, without any interruption, except an 
 occasional exclamation, until the ghost announces : 
 
 The serpent that did sting thy father's life 
 
 Now wears his crown. 
 
 Then the belief that has been growing in Hamlet is 
 confirmed, and his pent-up excitement is relieved, 
 by the cry : 
 
 O my prophetic soul ! 
 My uncle ! 
 
 He has been told something that he wishes to be- 
 lieve, and he fully credits it, as also all the succeed- 
 ing revelations. 
 
 The apparition of the late king describes the cir- 
 cumstances of his taking off, having first impressed 
 upon Hamlet the duty to avenge his murder. As 
 the revelation proceeds, and the story of Gertrude's 
 alienation from her husband and of her falseness is 
 presented to Hamlet, the ghost seems to feel that 
 Claudius had wrought a greater crime when he won 
 Gertrude to his shameful lust, than when he secured 
 the crown by murdering his brother. And so, in 
 truth, he had, for he had d estroyed the imm ortal 
 pafrofGerl i ude^^her virtue — while the king he had 
 but deprived^ofjife. 
 
 The revenge which the ghost desires Hamlet to 
 procure is not to be obtained by wrenching the 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 87 
 
 crown from the usurper's grasp, or by his death. 
 To the late king the crown is but a bauble when 
 compared with the love of his most seeming-virtuous 
 queen. The injunction laid on Hamlet is : 
 
 Let not the royal bed of Denmark be / 
 
 A couch for luxury and damned incest. 
 
 His t ask was not alone to be the killing of the 
 king, but the weaning of the queen from her guilty 
 affectionTor him. The ghost is most particular in 
 this, and his feeling against his brother is manifested 
 chiefly because he had debauched the queen, ^ie 
 is called 
 
 That incestuous, that adulterate beast, 
 not " that murderer/j The ghost assumes that the 
 queen was subdued to a power which she could not 
 successfully struggle against. The " witchcraft " of 
 Claudius's wit was too strong for her to resist it, 
 therefore her husband's love for her is not destroyed, 
 and he cautions Hamlet — 
 
 But, howsoever thou pursuest this act 
 (the act being that by which he should purify the 
 royal bed of Denmark), — 
 
 Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive 
 Against thy mother aught : leave her to heaven 
 And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge ~ 
 To prick and sting her. 
 
 j The ghost feels this to be a necessary caution ; he 
 fears that Hamlet will be more incensed against his 
 mother than against his uncle, and he tries to pro- 
 tect his dearly loved Gertrude from the possible 
 results of her son's judgment of herj (When he 
 again appears to Hamlet in the queen's closet, he 
 
88 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 makes a like effort to protect and comfort her.) 
 The ghost is wise in laying this injunction on Ham- 
 let ; without it, Gertrude would have been the first 
 object on which his righteous wrath would expend 
 itself. 
 
 I think it is not right to represent Hamlet — 
 as so many actors do — as terrorized on the first ap- 
 pearance of the ghost. He has come to the plat- 
 form prepared to see a something in his father's 
 form and semblance ; he has expressed the deter- 
 mination, — 
 
 If it assume my noble father's person. 
 
 I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape 
 
 And bid me hold my peace ; 
 
 and, when the ghost appears, he does question it, 
 not hurriedly or fearfully, but with deep awe, tem- 
 pered with affection and pity. Hamlet's lines give 
 no indication of fear or hesitation, until after he has 
 followed the apparition to a more remote part of 
 the platform ; then, indeed, he says : 
 
 Where wilt thou lead me ? speak ; I'll go no further. 
 But this seems only caution, not fear. Why should 
 he fear? his friends have thrice before encountered 
 the dread shape, and have escaped unhurt, and his 
 loving father would be no less tender towards him 
 than them. If fear take possession of the human 
 breast it leaves no room for any other sensations ; 
 but Hamlet manifested sympathy, pity, indignation, 
 hatred, and disgust. These feelings animate and 
 sway him; he is intensely agitated and excited, but 
 I think he feels no fear. On the stage, during the 
 latter part of the revelation, Hamlet should control 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 89 
 
 the manifestation of every feeling, except when a 
 wave of tender affection sweeping over him bears 
 him nearer to his beloved father. On the depart- 
 ure of the apparition he should still be controlled 
 by the awe with which its presence had inspired him. 
 It should press on him like a weight, and should 
 help to bow his knees to a sudden collapse when he 
 asks. And shall T couple ? From that point, as he 
 controls his bodily weakness, he emancipates him- 
 self from the sway of the feeling that had governed 
 him in the presence of the apparition, and continues 
 free from it until the repeated — Swear — from be- 
 neath the platform, again subjects him to its do- 
 minion. It is awe that inspires Hamlet's answer to 
 Horatio : 
 
 And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. 
 And— 
 
 Rest, rest, perturbed spirit ! 
 
 is the prayer of an awe-stricken soul. 
 To the sad farewell of the apparition — 
 
 Adieu, adieu ! Hamlet, remember me — 
 
 Hamlet returns no answer. He is lost in con- 
 templation of the change its revelation has already 
 made in his duties and responsibilities. His rela- 
 tion to the universe has suddenly been changed ; he 
 is not now a sufferer only — the football of the gods 
 — he has been constituted an avenger. His first 
 words after the departure of the spirit do not ex- 
 press tender commiseration of his father's wrongs, 
 nor a vow to avenge them, nor filial love trying to 
 alleviate them : the ghost for a moment is a second- 
 
90 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 ary consideration, and Hamlet thinks only of him- 
 self, and contemplates his future life. His first 
 words are an appeal to the hosts of heaven. He 
 does not expect thence any instant help to bear the 
 dreadful revelation, but it is our impulse to turn in 
 trouble toward something stable and eternal, not 
 changeable by the accidents of life. Hamlet ex- 
 claims : 
 
 O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! 
 
 and then he thinks : My father is murdered, my 
 mother is estranged, my crown is usurped ; I have 
 neither father, nor mother, nor home. What else? 
 what else can I be deprived of? Into his mind 
 comes the remembrance of Ophelia, and, for a mo- 
 ment, he believes he can take sanctuary near the 
 altar of their mutual love. But quickly he consid- 
 ers whether he is indeed secure of her affection. He 
 recalls his old idea ofjthe queen, and, pic turing Ophe- . 
 lia to himself, recalling the^^fregiana^with. whieh-sli«_- 
 has returned his demonstrations of affection, he in- 
 stantly determines that she is no better, ho purer Dy 
 nature, than his mother. With grim cynicism he 
 perceives that a celibate life will deprive outrageous 
 fortune of one of the arrows she might aim against 
 him, as she had employed it against his father, and 
 he almost laughs, with a sardonic joy, as he makes 
 his judgment of Ophelia, and exclaims : 
 
 And shall I couple ? Hell ! * 
 
 * The use of this word is suggested by the Hystorie (p. 298), 
 in a strongly elaborated sentence. The verb is used several 
 times in the Hystorie, e. g., pp. 288, 331. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 91 
 
 This judgment shuts out the last ray of light from 
 a life already darkened by clouds of sorrows ; what 
 wonder that soul and body tremble under the depri- 
 vation. He is a brave man, who, if his eye offend 
 him, can pluck it out and cast it from him : Hamlet 
 tore out the very heart from his bosom ; what won- 
 der then that the loss unnerved him ! But it was 
 only for a moment ; beginning to recover command 
 of his mental parts, he exclaims — " O, fie ! " in rep- 
 rehension of his bodily weakness. 
 
 O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart; 
 And you, my sinews,grow not instant old, 
 But bear me stiffly up. 
 
 Then follows : 
 
 Remember thee ! 
 Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat 
 In this distracted globe. 
 
 How could he but remember, when their condi- 
 tions, as it seemed, were so parallel — both deprived 
 of their heart's idol, and by her own unworthiness. 
 
 Remember thee ! 
 Yea, from the table of my memory 
 I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, 
 All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, 
 That youth and observation copied there ; 
 And thy commandment all alone shall live 
 Within thebook and volume of my brain, 
 Unmix'd with baser matter : yes, by heaven ! 
 
 Then he pauses a moment, and is again aroused 
 to invective by the recollection that it is his mother 
 who is the cause of all his misery. Had she been 
 true his father might have lived, for Claudius would 
 
92 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 have lacked the chief incentive to his crime. He 
 sees that it is his mother's wickedness, and weakness 
 under temptation, that has dethroned his ideal of 
 womanly purity, and set in motion all the engines 
 that have destroyed his hopes for happiness. His 
 wrath is directed to her first, before it touches Clau- 
 dius. Claudius is but an instrument. He ex- 
 claims : 
 
 O most pernicious woman ! 
 
 " most pernicious " if she can so blast the lives of 
 father and of son. Then he remembers that with- 
 out temptation she would have remained as pure 
 as she once seemed to be, and he cries out: 
 
 villain, villain, smiling, damned villain ! 
 My tables, — meet it is I set it down, 
 
 That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain ; 
 At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark. — 
 
 then he writes. 
 
 Although neither the Quartos nor the First Folio 
 gives thedirection found in the modern editions — 
 Writing — I do not believe that Hamlet merely jabs 
 the point of his stylet into the tables. He has just 
 determined to make his memory a blank, so that 
 his father's commandment may live there all alone, 
 and he can not therefore commit this reflection to 
 its charge — he must set it down — and he does so, he 
 inscribes something; not those very words, it may 
 be, but something german to the subject, for he 
 says : 
 
 So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word ; 
 It is ' Adieu, adieu ! remember me." 
 
 1 have sworn't. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 93 
 
 This writing was an ordinary every-day act to 
 which Hamlet was accustomed in that other world 
 where ghosts were, strangers, and it let his nerves 
 down from their extreme tension ; it was a break 
 that allowed him to reply with an assumption of 
 calmness to the calls of his companions. This calm- 
 ness he could not maintain consistently under their 
 questionings, but as we have already considered his 
 fencing with their inquiries, and the reasons for it, 
 we need not again advert to it, except to say that a 
 sober realization that his murdered father had re- 
 turned to purgatorial fires would then have unsettled 
 Hamlet's reason. He put the conviction aside and 
 tried by mockery to conceal, from his companions 
 and himself, the depth of his emotion. The solemn 
 Swear, from beneath their feet, was not needed 
 only to convince Horatio and the others that the 
 ghost had voice as well as motion, but it gave Ham- 
 let an instant's hope. The ghost had said : 
 My hour is almost come, 
 When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames 
 Must render up myself. 
 
 and the revelation had been cut short because the 
 dawn approached. This tarrying and echoing of 
 Hamlet's voice allowed him to ignore the belief 
 that his beloved father was a sufferer, and to post- 
 pone the sympathetic commiseration of his agony. 
 It was many weeks before he arrived at the fixed 
 conclusion that this spirit, that " had been loosed 
 out of hell to speak of horrors," was his revered 
 father, and this interval of oscillation between doubt 
 and belief was the salvation of Hamlet's reason. 
 
94 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 But, at the instant that he heard the revelation, he 
 accepted the obligation to obey the ghost's com- 
 mand, and from that moment we see his office in 
 the play. Hamlet is the Avenger. 
 
 The crime he has to punish, the object he has to 
 attain, is a double one : he must kill the king, and 
 restore his mother to her former allegiance to his 
 dead father. This HamJet resolved to do. His 
 father's injunction was: 
 
 If thou hast -nature in thee, bear it not; 
 Let not the royal bed of Denmark be 
 A couch for luxury and damned incest. 
 
 [Remove my brother from your mother's bed, and 
 from her heart.] 
 
 The command to kill that brother was not so ex- 
 plicit ; it was included in the command : 
 
 If thou didst ever thy dear father love — 
 Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. 
 
 Both of these tasks, and a third one also, Hamlet 
 resolve'd to execute : he determined to separate him- 
 self ^rom Oph elia. L^ot because he had the former 
 tasks to perform, but because he had convinced him- 
 self that a union with her would expose him to the 
 same unhappiness his father had endured, and pos- 
 sibly compel him, in his turn, to burden a son with 
 the same obligation that he must now labor to ful- 
 fill. jHe resolved to renounce Ophelia now, in order 
 to secure his own future peace of mind ; he resolved 
 to win Gertrude back to her lawful allegiance in 
 order to secure the quiet repose of his father's spirit. 
 This was his task. Never was son given a more dif- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 95 
 
 ficult one ; his very son-ship made it the more im- 
 possible. A stranger who was not under filial obli- 
 gation might have set about it forthwith, but Ham- 
 let delayed action for two months, unable to devise 
 a scheme by which to effect his mother's restoration 
 to moral purity, and while he thus delayed he was 
 " torn by conflicting doubts," 
 
 In the old Hystorie, Hamblet never knows that his 
 mother was false to his father during his life-time. 
 Hamblet was there prompted to kill his uncle only 
 by the natural sentiments of ambition and revenge. 
 When Shakespeare introduced the ghost, and 
 allowed it to reveal Gertrude's unfaithfulness, he 
 altered Hamlet's relation to the crime he had to 
 punish. It was no longer the injury done to his 
 father and himself, by the murder and assumption 
 of the crown, that he was required to revenge, but 
 he was expected to right a wrong that he could not 
 prove had been committed. This was more difficult 
 than to prove a murder when no dead body has been 
 found. When Shakespeare altered the features of 
 Hamlet's duty, by the alteration he necessitated 
 the use of other efforts to perform it than those em- 
 ployed by the young prince in the novel. There he 
 used cunning to preserve his life only until he could 
 successfully punish the unlawful exercise of force, 
 by force. 
 
 It has been said that the comprehension of the trag- 
 edy of Hamlet is the history of a man's own mind. 
 This seems to me a sweeping statement, but I do be- 
 lieve that if a man will put himself in Hamlet's 
 place, and then examine the workings of his own 
 
96 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 mind, he will understand what Hamlet was suffer- 
 ing and thinking during the two months of inaction 
 that followed the revelation of the ghost. 
 
 He knew that he was doubly bound by filial obli- 
 gation to obey his father's command. His duty 
 to his mother, as well as to his father, forbade him 
 to neglect it. His was the task to save his mother's 
 soul from perdition, by inducing her to repent her 
 sin, and renounce the thing she sinned for. Ham- 
 let's conscientiousness made him feel this was im- 
 perative, it was a religious obligation, and he ac- 
 cepted and meant to perform it. While his cause 
 for grief had been increased by his father's revela- 
 tion, his sorrow was not so overwhelming after as be- 
 fore it : he no longer sorrowed as one without hope. 
 Obedience to his father was obligatory ; in this was 
 included his duty to both his parents ; by perform- 
 ing this duty he would seat himself upon the throne ; 
 this Hope whispered whenever his purpose cooled. 
 The revelation of the ghost had given his life an ob- 
 ject, and had stimulated his soul to a feverish eager- 
 ness. He was no longer always despondent ; he 
 watched his uncle when with him, and thought about 
 him when absent. He hoped that by some overt 
 act or word Claudius, would betray his guilf . 
 
 Nor did Hamlet's conscience trouble him when 
 he contemplated the killing of the king ; the king 
 was an adulterer, a murderer and a thief: it would 
 be " perfect conscience " to rid the world of him. 
 In the old Hystorie (p. 304) Hamlet expresses this 
 conviction in the following words : 
 
 ^' And who knoweth not that traytors and periured 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 97 
 
 persons deserve no faith nor loyaltie -to be obserued 
 towardes them, and that conditions made with mur- 
 therers ought to be esteemed as cobwebs, and ac- 
 counted as if they were things neuer promised nor 
 agreed vpon : but if I lay handes vpon Fengon, it 
 will neither be fellonie nor treason, hee being neither 
 my King nor my Lord : but I shall iustly punish 
 him as my subiect, that hath disloyaly behaued him- 
 selfe against his Lord and soueraigne prince." 
 
 If Hamlet's task had been nothing more than to 
 compass the death of his uncle, it would have been 
 instantly accomplished. To give rest to his father's 
 perturbed spirit Hamlet would have rushed upon 
 Claudius and stabbed him to the heart even though 
 the courtiers' daggers had the next moment been 
 buried in his own breast. He did not set his life 
 at a pin's fee. 
 
 But by thus killing the king he would make it for- 
 ever impossible to fulfill the remainder — the most 
 important part — of his father's imposition, and 
 would involve Gertrude still further in her guilt. 
 Her love for Claudius would blaze up anew when 
 he was slain ; she would see in the murder only the 
 personal revenge of Hamlet because he had been 
 ousted from the throne ; she would wrap Claudius 
 in her love, and embalm him in her heart, feeling 
 that he had fallen a martyr to an unjustifiable ha- 
 tred. Hamlet could not kill the king until he had 
 separated Gertrude's affections from him. This was 
 the chief consideration that held him so long in- 
 active. 
 
VIII. 
 
 |[Hamlet loved Ophelia : until that dreadful night 
 with the ghost, he had hoped she would become his 
 loved and honored wife. His mother he had always 
 revered as the embodiment of womanly virtue, and 
 Ophelia — highest praise that he could give her — was 
 like his mother. The revelation of the ghost has 
 made this likeness fatal. He must renounce Ophe- 
 lia now. niHe can not for an instant contemplate 
 giving t^Tiis own children such a mother as he him- 
 self possesses. Hamlet thinks this in the days that 
 followed the revelation of the ghost, but this is not 
 all he thinks : sometimes he is incredulous as to 
 the reliability of the apparition ; he reflects that the 
 spirit he has seen may be the devil — the father of 
 lies — and he doubts whether his father was mur- 
 dered, he doubts whether his mother is criminal ; 
 he fears the arch-adversary may have set a trap for 
 his soul, which he hopes to secure by making him 
 kill the king. 
 
 £He can not determine how to find out the truth. 
 Much as he dislikes the king, how gladly would he 
 disbelieve the ghost. Could he but prove the ghost 
 a liar he might again indulge his love ; he would 
 not need to abandon his faith in Ophelia or control 
 his affection for herT\ 
 
 It was in some such mood as this that he wrote 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 99 
 
 the letter to Ophelia that Polonius afterward read 
 to the king and queen. 
 
 The First Quarto represents this letter, which is 
 much shorter there than it now reads, as having 
 been sent to Ophelia before her father cautioned 
 her to avoid Hamlet and receive no tokens from 
 him, and therefore before the revelation of the 
 ghost. We are forced to this conclusion by Co- 
 rambis's (Polonius's) statement to the king : 
 
 Now when I faw this letter, thus I befpake 
 
 my maiden : 
 Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of your ftarre. 
 
 But in preparing the Second Quarto Shakespeare 
 re-wrote the whole scene in which the letter is read, 
 and added to it more than one-half as much as it 
 before contained. He cut out the statement which 
 fixes the time at which the letter was received, and 
 greatly amplified it : in the First Quarto it consisted 
 only of the rhymed lines : 
 
 Doubt that in earth is fire, 
 
 Doubt that the ftarres doe moue, 
 
 Doubt truth to be a Uar, 
 
 But doe not doubt I loue. 
 
 To the beautifull Ofelia : 
 
 Thine euer the most vnhappy Prince Hamlet. 
 
 The changes Shakespeare made in this letter, and 
 the additions to it, embodying Hamlet's statement — 
 
 O dear Opheha, I am ill at these numbers ; I have not art to 
 reckon my groans : but that I love thee best, O most best, 
 believe it — 
 
 justify us in attributing it now to a time after the 
 revelation of the ghost. If the ghost were really 
 
loo THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 his father's spirit, Hamlet felt that the story it told 
 would compel him to separate himself forever from 
 Ophelia ; but while he was unable to convince him- 
 self that the story was true, his heart constantly 
 pleaded with his reason for permission to cherish 
 and preserve its love. Hamlet knew that he had 
 been excluded from Ophelia's presence, his former 
 letters had been returned to him and audience 
 denied him.l He pondered over the causes that 
 might haVe induced this changed behavior, and 
 reasoned something in this way : ' I doubt my uncle, 
 I doubt my mother, I doubt Ophelia, I doubt even 
 my own judgment as to right and wrong, because I 
 doubt the indications from which my judgment 
 must be made. Is my mother only seeming-virtu- 
 ous, and my uncle a smiling villain ? If I doubt 
 Ophelia, for an unproved reason, may not Ophelia, 
 in her turn, doubt me?' He can not bear to be 
 suspected of changeableness by her whom he so 
 dearly loves, even though he does doubt her, and, 
 desiring that she shall- not relinquish her faith in his 
 affection until he has been absolutely convinced that 
 he must withdraw it, he sends her the letter, the 
 only one Polonius sees. In the happy days when 
 Ophelia was of her "audience most free and boun- 
 teous," they did not need to write. This is the 
 letter: 
 
 To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia, 
 — In her excellent white bosom, these, &c. 
 
 Doubt thou the stars are fire ; 
 Doubt that the sun doth move ; 
 Doubt truth to be a liar ; 
 But never doubt I love. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. loi 
 
 O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers ; I have not art to 
 reckon my groans : but that I love thee best, O most best, 
 believe it. Adieu. 
 
 Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 In spite of her father's commands Ophelia did not 
 return this letter to Hamlet — who would not wish 
 to retain so earnest and impassioned an avowal of 
 love ? But her disobedience ended here, in self- 
 indulgence. Hamlet waited, vainly hoping for an 
 answer. Ophelia had received the letter and he 
 wearied for a reply. LAgain he became a prey to 
 his belief in the dreadful visitation, once again he 
 believed that Ophelia was faithless and unworthy.^ 
 Day after day he revolved her conduct in his mind, i 
 night after night he brooded over the revelation of 
 the ghost. i_Two months had passed since he re- ] 
 ceived it, and he had not yet proved its truth or 
 falsity. During all this time he had had no inter- 
 view with Ophelia, and had been unable to resolve 
 his doubts as to her integrity, and the continuance 
 of her lovCjJ This struggle had impaired his health, 
 he could neither eat nor sleep; and finally, driven to 
 absolute lack of self-control by his solitary com- 
 munings with his melancholy, iHamlet broke into 
 Ophelia's presence, which he sought in her very 
 chamber; but when he stood before her, he regained 
 his self-command, and withheld himself from speak- 
 ing any of the words with which he might have 
 blasted her ear._j The particulars of the interview 
 we know from Ophelia's report of it to her father. 
 We, who know what was in Hamlet's mind, who 
 
102 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 know that with every sense he sought from Ophelia's 
 mien the confirmation or the resolution of his doubts, 
 can pity him : his very appearance should excite 
 our pity. 
 
 His doublet all unbraced ; 
 
 No hat upon his head ; his stockings foul'd, 
 
 Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle ; 
 
 Pale as his shirt ; his knees knocking each other ; 
 
 And with a look so piteous in purport 
 
 As if he had been loosed out of hell 
 
 To speak of horrors. 
 
 Even such a physical condition had the conflict 
 in Hamlet's soul produced.* There was no inter- 
 change of speech at this short meeting; if Ophelia 
 were false he could not trust her words, but he 
 had faith in the " eternal blazon of her lineaments." 
 She describes Hamlet's behavior to her father : 
 
 He took me by the wrist and held me hard ; 
 
 Then goes he to the length of all his arm; 
 
 And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow. 
 
 He falls to such perusal of my face 
 
 As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so ; 
 
 At last, a little shaking of mine arm 
 
 And thrice his head thus waving up and down, 
 
 He raised a sigh so piteous and profound 
 
 That it did seem to shatter all his bulk 
 
 And end his being : that done, he lets me go : 
 
 * I think Shakespeare would not have represented Hamlet in 
 this condition of disorder were it not for these lines in the old 
 Hystorie (p. 290) : 
 
 hee rent and tore his clothes, wallowing and lying in the durt 
 and mire, his face all filthy and blacke, running through the 
 streets like a man distraught, not speaking one worde, but such 
 as seemed to proceede from madnesse, and meere frenzie. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 103 
 
 And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd. 
 He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; 
 For out o' doors he went without their help, 
 And, to the last, bended their light on me. 
 
 Poor maid ! the last time the light of Hamlet's 
 eyes was turned on her in love ! 
 
 Who can tell what trifle light as air confirmed him 
 then in the renunciation of Ophelia ? A look, a move- 
 ment, magnified by vigilant jealousy, is confirmation 
 strong as proof of holy writ. VPf^''^''^ tells her 
 father she had been much affrighted : it may be 
 Hamlet saw her shrinking fear, and attributed it 
 to changing love, or to an inability to meet his ques- 
 tioning eye without a blushj_j j^He, knew Ophelia 
 well — much more intimately than we do — he knew 
 what license she had given to the expression of her 
 love, and, after debating the question for two end- 
 less months, he finally decides, in this pathetic in- 
 terview, that she has manifested at least the poten- 
 tiality of wrong-doiBgl Did we not know that her 
 father and her brother had judged her with the 
 same harsh judgment, we might condemn Hamlet 
 when he thus repudiates his love, for no apparent 
 cause. (The frailty of his mother is not a sufificient 
 reason for his severe judgment of Ophelia, but it 
 was fortified, and suspicion fostered in Hamlet's 
 mind, by his recollection of the private hours he 
 had passed in Ophelia's presencej \Eaor girl ! she 
 
 ha d no mother to teach b fr thp hpanty nf rpfirpnrp 
 
 ocj naidenly rese rve^aad-now she pays the penalty 
 of herjincons cious fau lt. We must accept Hamlet's 
 judgment as to the possible frailty of Ophelia. May 
 
104 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 we not believe that he had seen some sensitiveness, 
 some susceptibility, some riot in her blood, which, 
 pondered on, led to his final judgment of her char- 
 acter, and drove him to the bitter conclusion that 
 he dared not entrust the guardianship of his honor 
 to her ? J 
 
 Hamlet leaves Ophelia's chamber convinced of 
 the reliability of the ghost, and knowing that he 
 must obey his father's command ; but in the hours 
 that intervene between this interview and the mock- 
 play, when his doubts are set at rest forever, he 
 suffers many alternations of doubt and of belief. 
 If he could trust the ghost his course would all 
 along be comparatively clear to him : it is his fear 
 that he may be the victim of a delusion that pre- 
 vents his taking any steps to obey its dread com- 
 mand. How dare he, on no other testimony than 
 the unwitnessed statement of an apparition, accuse 
 his mother of adultery, his uncle of murder? 
 
 Do you say this vacillation between doubt and 
 certainty indicates a diseased and unbalanced mind? 
 Not so. Put yourself in Hamlet's place, and frank- 
 ly confess you would have wavered as he did, or 
 else point out the grounds from which you could 
 derive a fixed opinion. 
 
IX. 
 
 It is not until after Hamlet goes to Ophelia's cham- 
 ber, two months after the revelation of the ghost, 
 that we receive any intimation that he is considered 
 insane. As Ophelia describes his appearance and 
 behavior to Polonius, the old chamberlain jumps 
 to a conclusion that is very pleasing to him — he 
 would gladly see his daughter married to the crown 
 prince — and exclaims : 
 
 Mad for thy love ? 
 
 and Ophelia replies : 
 
 My lord, I do not know ; 
 But truly, I do fear it. 
 
 Ophelia knew that Hamlet had been sad before 
 she sent back his letters and refused to receive his 
 visits, in obedience to her father's command ; but 
 she had seen that in her society his grief seemed 
 forgotten, and she had hoped that, the memory of 
 his father's death growing fainter, he would find 
 renewed happiness in the enjoyment of her love. 
 She had not spoken with him in two months, al- 
 though he had tried to obtain speech of her, and it 
 was natural that she should think Hamlet's altered 
 bearing arose from her unkind treatment of him, 
 which, as we know, began on the very day he re- 
 ceived the revelation from his father's spirit. She 
 too was moat unhappy : her heart was like to 
 
 105 
 
io6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 break at the thought that she had been compelled 
 to inflict this sorrow on her lover. 
 
 As soon as she disclosed to her father the partic- 
 ulars of Hamlet's visit to her closet, Polonius at 
 once determined to take her with him to the king. 
 
 Come, go with me : I will go seek the king. 
 
 This is the very ecstasy of love, 
 
 Whose violent property fordoes itself 
 
 And leads the will to desperate undertakings 
 
 As oft as any passion under heaven 
 
 That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. 
 
 What, have you given him any hard words of late .' 
 Oph. Noi my good lord; but, as you did command, 
 
 I did repel his letters and denied . 
 
 His access to me. 
 Pol. That hath made him mad. 
 
 I'm sorry that with better heed and judgement 
 
 I had not quoted him : I fear'd he did but trifle, 
 
 And meant to wreck thee ; but, beshrew my jealousy ! 
 
 By heaven, it is as proper to our age 
 
 To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions 
 
 As it is common for the younger sort 
 
 To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: 
 
 This must be known ; which, being kept close, might move 
 
 More grief to hide than hate to utter love. 
 
 Polonius hoped to prove that love-sickness was 
 the cause of Hamlet's changed behavior, and he 
 hoped also that Ophelia might be required of him 
 as a bride for the prince, if that should prove to be 
 the physic that his case required. This is made a 
 little more evident by the First Quarto: 
 
 Lets to the King, this madneffe may prooue. 
 Though wilde a while, yet more true to thy loue. 
 
 Ophelia apparently begged to be spared this pain- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 107 
 
 ful interview, and, to avoid it, gave her father the let- 
 ter which he shortly afterward read to the king and 
 queen. fT^hat Polonius desires his daughter in person 
 to bear witness to Hamlet's love for her, is only one 
 of the many touches by which Shakespeare paint; 
 the father's character. He was by nature shrewd 
 cautious, unscrupulous, and calculating: Claudius 
 recognizes his worth as a willing instrument, when 
 dirty work is to be done. Very probably the honest- 
 hearted elder Hamlet despised him for his crooked- 
 ness, and did not conceal his opinion : both Hamlet 
 and the queen show a dislike to him from the first. 
 Clandius may have been indebted to him for his 
 services with the populace when Hamlet was over- 
 looked and his uncle seated on his throne ; this ser- 
 vice was probably the incentive to Claudius's words 
 to Laertes: 
 
 The head is not more native to the heart. 
 The hand more instrumental to the mouth, 
 Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. 
 
 and he was certainly a favorite with the populace, 
 who, to avenge his death, would have made Laer- 
 tes king. It is possible that the chamberlain sus- 
 pected the foul play by which the throne was 
 vacated, but if he did he gave his "'heart a winking, 
 mute and dumb," and made no sign : he was a per- 
 fect courtier, and Claudius fully recognized his value. 
 He went to the palace with very little doubt that if 
 Hamlet preferred his suit to Ophelia, the king would 
 overlook the difference in their rank and join their 
 hands in marriage ; but he was very careful not to 
 express this to their majesties. 
 
io8 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 While Polonius is going from his own house to 
 the castle we are present at the reception of Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern. They had been hastily 
 sent for, with the hope that as they were school- 
 fellows of Hamlet, 
 
 brought up with him. 
 And sith so neig-hbour'd to his youth and 'haviour, 
 
 they might draw him on to pleasures, and dis- 
 cover, as the king says. 
 
 Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, 
 That, open'd, hes within our remedy. 
 
 The king explains the need that he had of their 
 services,, saying : 
 
 Something have you heard 
 
 Of Hamlet's transformation ; so call it, 
 
 Sith not the exterior nor the inward man 
 
 Resembles that it was. 
 
 And the queen adds — 
 
 And I beseech you instantly to visit 
 My too much changed son. 
 
 The king speaks of Hamlet's " transformation," and 
 Gertrude calls him her "too much changed son"; 
 only Polonius afterward speaks of Hamlet's mad- 
 ness, saying: 
 
 I do think, . . . that I have found 
 The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. 
 
 The king in repeating this to Gertrude does not 
 use Polonius's harsh word, but says : 
 
 He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found 
 The head and source of all your son's distemper. 
 
 Gertrude, having, no suspicion that her son is mad, 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 109 
 
 and knowing that it is very unlikely that Polonius 
 has made a valuable discovery, replies : 
 
 I doubt it is no other but the main ; 
 
 His father's death, and our o'er hasty marriage. 
 
 Neither of these causes is sufficient to dethrone 
 Hamlet's reason, and neither king nor queen seems 
 at this time to have considered him a lunatic. 
 
 We must now inquire what have been Hamlet's 
 occupations during the past two months, with intent 
 to discover whether he has before indicated that he 
 is mad. We know what his thoughts have been, 
 how he alternately doubted and believed the ghost, 
 but what were his actions ? what did he do or re- 
 frain from doing ? The first information on the 
 subject comes from Polbnius, and Is, as we might 
 expect, a little exaggerated : 
 
 And he, repulsed — a short tale to make — 
 Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, 
 Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, 
 Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension. 
 Into the madness whereon now he raves. 
 And all we mourn for. 
 
 This, translated into plain English, means : he was 
 very sad, so sad that he would neither eat nor sleep, 
 therefore he became weak and light-headed, and 
 from this condition he has become mad, as is proved 
 by his behavior to my daughter just now. This, 
 barring the conclusion, is a true statement of facts. 
 These are the conditions, with the exception of 
 the last (the madness), that an able physician would 
 expect in a sensitive soul indulgent of its grief and 
 brooding over its unhappiness, doubting and unable 
 
no THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 to resolve its doubts. Hamlet's sensibility and his 
 self-tormenting do not indicate a strong and self- 
 reliant man, and critics find it hard to reconcile the 
 vacillations and inconsistencies he exhibits. But 
 we know that Hamlet is, in fact, only a youth, he 
 has a woman's soul, we must " judge him by the 
 heart and not the intellect "; all that seems ex- 
 treme in him would be at once excused in a super- 
 sensitive, emotional girl, because it would seem nat- 
 ural in her, and We should not call it madness. 
 
 But Hamlet did not pass all these two months in 
 solitary brooding; to be sure, he tells Rosencrantz 
 and Guildenstern, — 
 
 I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, 
 foregone all custom of exercises, — 
 
 but this does not mean that he has taken no exer- 
 cise ; he has abandoned the exercises he was accus- 
 tomed to, those probably that would bring him into 
 intimate contact with the courtiers : still Polonius 
 says, while unfolding his discovery to the king and 
 queen : 
 
 You know, sometimes he walks four hours together 
 Here in the lobby. 
 
 And in Act V. Scene H. Hamlet, telling Horatio 
 about his skill in fencing, says : 
 
 Since he — 
 (Laertes, who departed the very day Hamlet heard 
 the revelation of the ghost) 
 
 went into France, I have been in continual practice ; I shall 
 win at the odds. 
 
 It was before Hamlet's visit to Ophelia's closet 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. iii 
 
 that the Frenchman's — Lamond's — visit to the Dan- 
 ish court was paid, and at that time Hamlet had 
 become so proficient with the foils that, inspired 
 by the Norman's report of Laertes's skill in fencing, 
 " he could nothing do but wish and beg " the 
 latter's " sudden coming o'er to play with him." 
 These statements show clearly that Hamlet had 
 not been physically inactive; but we should be 
 almost sure of it without this testimony. His 
 father's command and the results which Hamlet 
 expected from obedience to it, had made him hope- 
 ful; audit does not appear that he secluded him- 
 self, even in the first days of his fasting and watch- 
 ing, — the testimony is rather against this supposi- 
 tion. It is evident from the last scenes of the 
 tragedy that the king and queen recognize Horatio 
 as Hamlet's especial friend, and all the manifesta- 
 tions on which they base this conclusion must have 
 been made after the revelation of the ghost, for 
 Hamlet did not know of Horatio's presence in Elsi- 
 nore until the day on which the revelation was 
 made. After the arrival of Rosencrantz and Guil- 
 denstern, when Hamlet has chatted a little while 
 with them, he does not try to excuse himself and 
 escape to solitude ; he says : 
 
 Shall we to the court .' for, by my fay, I cannot reason. • 
 And the entertainment of the players, and the quick 
 determination to present a play, to which the court 
 should be invited, indicate that he had not with- 
 drawn himself into solitude. He would have 
 suffered more in separating himself entirely from 
 the court life, than in sharing it : seclusion would 
 
112 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 have deprived him of all opportunity to advance in 
 the performance of his task. Hamlet was always 
 thinking of this, and preparing himself to accom- 
 plish it. His fencing was not caused by envy of 
 Laertes's skill, but was pursued in anticipation of the 
 hour when he might need all his strength and cun- 
 ning to complete the fulfillment of the ghost's 
 behest, and kill the king— his father's murderer. 
 Hamlet had undoubtedly been very watchful of 
 Claudius, hoping some unguarded word or act would 
 furnish evidence to support the testimony of the 
 apparition : he probably was informed of every- 
 thing that his uncle did or said. He had kept much 
 closer watch upon the king than had Claudius upon 
 him; therefore when Polonius came with the report 
 of his discovery, Claudius, who had not cared or 
 noted what Hamlet was about, except that he 
 still seemed to be unreconciled to his situation, was 
 ready to believe the prince insane. He was glad to 
 believe it : madness would account for Hamlet's 
 " transformation," and a mad prince could not ex- 
 pect to succeed to the throne of Denmark. 
 
 I think Hamlet was never mad, and I think that 
 he never feigned madness until after Polonius 
 ascribed it to him. He had charged his friends, 
 should he "see fit to put an antic disposition on," 
 that they should not reveal the deception; but 
 Shakespeare's Hamlet probably would never have 
 thought of feigning madness, had it not been set 
 down in the old Hystorie, as the means adopted 
 there by the young prince to prolong his life. 
 
 Hamlet does not feign madness with that design; 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 113 
 
 his life is not threatened until after he has done so : 
 it is used by him only that he may profit by the license 
 madness takes to mock and abuse its interlocutors. 
 Hamlet found in it a relief from the silence he ha- 
 bitually imposed on himself in the presence of any 
 member of the royal circle. He could not meet and 
 converse with them on any common ground, but, 
 after insanity was attributed to him, he was ena- 
 bled to express his opinions without being compelled 
 either to justify or to retreat from his position. 
 
 Shakespeare borrowed the expedient from the 
 Hystorie, but he took great care that Hamlet should 
 never seem to the audience to be mad. He re-wrote 
 and modified every speech of every personage in 
 the First Quarto that might lead his hearers to 
 judge that the madness was real and not assumed. 
 Whenever Hamlet, for the purpose of indulging lib- 
 erty of speech toward Polonius, or the king, or his 
 two school-fellows, affects the license madness gives, 
 if it is not palpable to the audience that the madness 
 is only assumed, Shakespeare makes his hero, by 
 some speech like "these tedious old fools," or "they 
 fool me to the top of my bent," indicate that he is 
 only covered with a mantle that he can drop as soon 
 as the need for its use is past. Every outbreak that 
 might make us conclude his mind was really diseased 
 is followed, at once, by a conversation or a soliliquy 
 in which he shows more than the acuteness and the 
 mental balance of an average mortal. The king and 
 Polonius, however, are not in Shakespeare's confi- 
 dence ; therefore, when the councilor asserts that 
 Hamlet is mad, and produces what he considers 
 
114 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 proof, Claudius, who would much rather believe 
 Hamlet incapable of making inquiries into the par. 
 ticulars of his father's death, than that 
 
 There's something in his soul, 
 
 O'er which his melancholy sits on brood, 
 
 gladly accepts it as the truth, and asks : 
 
 How may we try it further ? 
 
 Polonius, desiring at any sacrifice of his own or his 
 daughter's delicacy, to secure Hamlet as a son-in-law, 
 even though he be mad, suggests that a meeting be 
 contrived between his daughter and the prince, of 
 which the king and he shall be hidden witnesses ; this 
 Claudius assents to, but elaboration of the plan is 
 prevented by Hamlet's approach. Gertrude first per- 
 ceives him and says : 
 
 But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. 
 
 This is one of Shakespeare's delicious little 
 touches the subtlety of which often escapes us. The 
 prince, who has just been represented as a raving 
 lunatic, slips quietly into our presence lost in the 
 perusal of his book. This master-stroke we may be 
 sure was purposely introduced to point out the con- 
 trast between Hamlet's reported and his actual con- 
 dition. We had not seen him since the night of his 
 wild interview with the ghost, and it was necessary 
 that we should have testimony on which to believe or 
 disbelieve Polonius's astounding proposition. His 
 quiet, unostentatious approach convinces us that 
 his interview with Ophelia an hour before can be 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA, 115 
 
 attributed to some other cause than madness; but 
 Polonius, impatient to prove what he so much de- 
 sires, but which as yet rests only on his daughter's 
 report, requests their majesties to withdraw and let 
 him meet the prince alone. 
 
X. 
 
 We know that Hamlet decided, when he forced 
 his way into Ophelia's presence and perused her 
 countenance, that he must cast her out of his life, 
 even though he might not be able at once to remove 
 her from his hearjLj \Hamlet dearly loved Ophelia, 
 and he had believed that she loved him_i Reflection 
 on her bearing during the morning's interview re- 
 newed his belief in her affection, and, searching for 
 the reason that had induced her for two months to 
 seclude herself from him, he concluded that she had 
 done so only in obedience to her father's commands. 
 Further reflection convinced him that these com- 
 mands had been given wholly with the view of forc- 
 ing from him a demand for the maiden's hand in 
 marriage. This request he has now determined 
 never to make, and from this decision he never again 
 wavers. 
 
 We are nowhere expressly told that Hamlet knew 
 what Polonius had been hoping, but he was quick 
 of apprehension, shrewd, and even worldly wise, and 
 we must infer this, and nothing else, from the con- 
 versation that ensued between them. Lit indicates 
 to us very plainly, that .H^let wishes to inform the 
 chamberlain that he prefers-rto suit to Ophelia, and 
 so Polonius would have understooS^ it had he not 
 been blinded by his preconceived ideasj 
 
 ii6 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 117 
 
 Pol. O, give me leave : 
 
 How does my good lord Hamlet ? 
 
 Ham. Well, God-a-mercy. 
 
 Pol. Do you know me, my lord ? 
 
 Ham. Excellent well ; you are a fishmonger. 
 
 Pol. Not I, my lord. 
 
 Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. 
 
 Pol. Honest, my lord ! 
 
 Ham. Ay, sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one 
 man picked out of ten thousand. 
 
 Pol. That's very true, my lol-d. 
 
 Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a 
 god * kissing carrion, — Have you a daughter ? 
 
 Pol. I have, my lord. 
 
 Ham. Let her not walk i' the sun : conception is a blessing; 
 but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't. 
 
 Pol. [Aside.} How say you by that ? Still harping on my 
 daughter : yet he knew me not at first ; he said I was a fish- 
 monger : he is far gone, far gone : and truly in my youth I 
 suffered much extremity for love ; very near this. I'll speak to 
 him again. What do you read, my lord. 
 
 Ham. Words, words, words. 
 
 Hamlet knew, as well as we do, that measured by 
 the rule and square of the proprieties, his visit to 
 Ophelia's chamber was an unpardonable liberty. 
 He feels assured that the maiden has already told 
 her father of the occurrence, and when he first per- 
 
 * To be consistent I make this quotation as it is given in the 
 Globe Shakespeare, from which I have made all others, but ref- 
 erence to the Quartos and Folio will show that Shakespeare 
 wrote " good," — -good kissing carrion. Good is the word he 
 employed and most editors retain it. Warburton first made the 
 change from good to god, and advanced a long argument to 
 sustain it, and Johnson, in approving it, said, " This is a noble 
 emendation, which almost sets the critic on a level with the 
 author." 
 
ii8 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Cgives the old chamberlain he is not sure what will 
 be, his action under the circumstances ; he believes 
 th.. t, with justice, he will be incensed ; but Polonius's 
 first question, " How does my good lord Hamlet ? " 
 shows that the old courtier does not mean to mani- 
 fest displeasure, or to abandon his design to unite 
 his daughter and the prince. His secon3~question, 
 ":Do~yoiri?aow m ^Tniy lord ? " indicates, to Ham- 
 let's quick discernment, that Polonius attributes his 
 condition of disorder, a few hours before, to mad- 
 ness. "Do you know me, my lord?" — a question 
 to be asked only of a madman or a fool. Quick as 
 thought Hamlet sees the old man's mistake, and de- 
 termines to humor it. He had no fear of the con- 
 sequences ; he had already seen himself indulged in 
 the exhibition of an extreme sadness and melan- 
 choly, which, under the circumstances, must have 
 been intensely irritating to king Claudius, and he 
 believed that by an exaggeration of his bearing he 
 could secure still further indulgence. Therefore, 
 when he heard the question, " Do you know me, my 
 lord ?", showing so plainly what Polonius was think- 
 ing, Hamlet answered, looking him straight in the 
 eye, to observe whether the shot told, " Excellent 
 well ; you are a fishmonger." Many far-fetched 
 explanations of the meaning of this answer have 
 been made, but the spirit of the reply is plain. 
 Hamlet meant that Polonius was making merchan- 
 dise of his daughter, desiring to secure a husband 
 for her; Hamlet said fishmonger, because fish must 
 be disposed of immediately, or they become worth- 
 less. When he sees that Polonius attributes this 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 119 
 
 reply to madness, taking the term literally, and not 
 seeing the application of it, he says, " I would you 
 were so honest a man," and the thought in his mind 
 is, ' A fishmonger cries his wares publicly and tries 
 to dispose of them, knowing that purchasers appre- 
 ciate their perishable nature ; you are trying to dis- 
 pose of Ophelia, and you conceal your thoughts 
 about her ; you do not intimate that you consider 
 her virtue vulnerable by me, although you have 
 already manifested it, by shutting her away from 
 my society.' Hamlet's succeeding speech is al- 
 most brutal, uttered, as it is, to a father about his 
 daughter; but Hamlet felt that he was justified in 
 making it by his knowledge of Ophelia's dispo- 
 sition, and by Polonius's efforts to secure him for a 
 son-in-law. Still, when the speech was on his lips, 
 he hesitated, and involved his meaning, so that it 
 not only puzzled Polonius then, but has puzzled 
 the host of commentators on the passage ever 
 since. 
 
 The speech has no counterpart in the First Quarto. 
 The only difference of the First Folio from the 
 Second Quarto is in the spelling, and the use of a 
 dash instead of a period in punctuating. In the 
 Folio, the passage stands thus : 
 
 Ham. For if the Sun breed Magots in a dead dcgge, being 
 a good kissing Carrion — 
 Have you a daughter ? 
 Pol. I have my lord. 
 Hajn. Let her not walke i' th' Sunne : 
 
 Conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may 
 conceive. Friend looke too 't. 
 
120 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 In The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act III. Sc. III. 
 205, is this line : 
 
 Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress Quickly, to him .' 
 In Julius Ccesar, Act II. Sc. I. 129,' we find : 
 
 Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, 
 Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls. 
 
 In Romeo and Juliet, Act III. Sc. V. 157, Capulet, 
 abusing Juliet because she wishes not to marry 
 Paris, cries : 
 
 Out, you green-sickness carrion ! out, you baggage ! 
 You tallow-face ! 
 
 Johnsons Dictionary defines carrion as " a name 
 of reproach for a worthless woman." This is the 
 sense in which Hamlet used the word : it is a term 
 of opprobrium, a name of reproach, and, if his heart 
 had not failed him when he used it, so that he felt 
 compelled to interrupt himself with a question that 
 required no answer: 
 
 Have you A daughter } 
 
 there would have been no misunderstanding of the 
 phrase. Good kissing Carrion Hamlet used in 
 the sense, good to kiss ; as we say " good looking," 
 meaning " good to look at " ; and " good eating," 
 "good to be eaten." The For referred to his 
 preceding thought about Ophelia's virtue, and con- 
 nected it with the dead dog that invited the kiss 
 of the sun. Suppose we read the speech as Hamlet 
 meant to utter it : 
 
 For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good 
 kissing carrion, let your daughter not walk in the sun : concep- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 121 
 
 tion is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. 
 Friend, loolt to it. 
 
 This we may paraphrase to make the meaning per- 
 fectly clear: 
 
 For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, let your daughter 
 not walk in the sun ; she, being a good kissing carrion (or 
 baggage), may be corrupted you know not how : conception is 
 a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, 
 look to it. 
 
 There is no play upon words in the passage ; it 
 is a harsh statement of what Hamlet- helievetLtn be 
 th g truth — t hat is, that Ophelia was "f ^ rjif^pn^ifinn 
 that could not resist_ temptation : . but Polonius did 
 not understand it so, or if he did he ascribed the 
 censure to madness. He speaks up sharply as 
 Hamlet finishes his speech, and says : 
 
 How say you by that ? 
 
 meaning, " What do you mean by that?" This is 
 not given as an aside, in any of the early editions ; 
 it is an alarmed inquiry that the father directs to 
 Hamlet, but, without waiting for an explanation, he 
 instantly soothes his o\yn fear to sleep with the 
 words : 
 
 Still harping on my daughter : yet he knew me not at first ; 
 he said I was a fishmpnger : he is far gone, far gone. 
 
 Throughout this conversation, which we need not 
 follow further, Hamlet continually flouts Polonius 
 and gives him equivocal answers, and at the end 
 of the interview, as the lord chamberlain leaves 
 him, the prince, to make clear to the audience, who 
 have not seen him since that night two months 
 
122 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 before when he had departed from their sight in 
 such perturbation of spirit, that he has only been 
 assuming madness, exclaims : 
 
 These tedious old fools! 
 
 Polonius does' not know exactly what to think; 
 he almost fears his sagacity has been at fault : he 
 believes that Hamlet is mad, yet some of his re- 
 plies are so apt that he is driven to the reflection : 
 
 Though this be madness, yet there is method in't. 
 
 With his usual perspicacity he thinks the very 
 pertinence and- fulness of meaning in Hamlet's re- 
 marks are a proof that he must be mad. He says : 
 
 How pregnant sometimes his replies are ! a happiness that 
 often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so 
 prosperously be delivered of. 
 
 In other words — a sane man cannot appear so sane 
 as an insane one. This is a fair specimen of Polo- 
 nius's wisdom. 
 
 The audience understand Hamlet's meaning in 
 the foregoing conversation, if Polonius does not. 
 They remember his answer to the question And 
 shall I couple f and know that his words have 
 reference to his design to renounce Ophelia. Stu- 
 dents ought to realize that the fact of his holding 
 this conversation, and expressing to Polonius his 
 judgment of Ophelia before the mock-play has ab- 
 solutely convinced him that the story of the ghost 
 is true, is a proof that Hamlet was not a laggard, or 
 irresolutely incapable to execute his task when the 
 hour for doing so should arrive. 
 
XI. 
 
 At the close of the interview between Hamlet and 
 Polonius, as the lord chamberlain takes his leave, 
 Rosencrantz and Guildenstern enter and are directed 
 by him to the prince,- — a very meddlesome, unnec- 
 essary direction, as they are already in his presence, 
 but we all think we can speak before a sick or an in- 
 sane person without being noticed or understood. 
 
 Hamlet receives his two friends with cordiality 
 and affection, with almost the same affection he 
 had displayed to Horatio. They were his play- 
 fellows, brought up with him from youth to man- 
 hood, intimately known to his dead father, and 
 Hamlet believes that loving remembrance has 
 brought them to his side, as it had brought his 
 other friend. He expects from them sorrow for his 
 loss, and sympathy with his grief, but he jokes with 
 them as young men do joke, and then tells them that 
 he is most unhappy, that Denmark is a prison, that 
 he has bad dreams. It is evident that he is ready 
 to unbosom himself to his dearly loved companions, 
 but he does not force the conversation back to the 
 consideration of his sorrow when they speak about 
 the players, but questions them, instead, with in- 
 terest and great intelligence, as to the condition of 
 the stage in the city, why the players travel, and 
 so on. Hamlet manifests no madness during the 
 
 123 
 
124 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 whole conversation, nor does he show any incohe- 
 rence or inconsequence; he exhibits only practical 
 good sense, and he is on the point of confiding to 
 his school-fellows some of the causes of his dis- 
 content with his surroundings, when he is inter- 
 rupted by the re-entrance of Polonius, who comes 
 meaning to announce the arrival of the players. 
 Hamlet, seeing him before he has approached very 
 close, checks himself, and changes the conversation, 
 saying: 
 
 • Hark you, Guildenstern ; and you too : at each ear a hearer : 
 that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling 
 clouts. 
 
 J!os. Happily he's the second time come to them; for they 
 say an old man is twice a child. 
 
 Ham. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players ; 
 mark it. 
 
 All this is said so low that Polonius does not hear 
 it, but, as he comes nearer, Hamlet, raising his 
 voice so that it may be audible to him, continues as 
 if he was finishing something he had been telling 
 his friends in. their ear: 
 
 You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; 'twas so indeed. 
 
 This bore Vio reference to anything they had been 
 speaking of, and was uttered only to deceive Polo- 
 nius and lead him to believe their talk had been on 
 indifferent subjects. But Hamlet was not content 
 with this. He probably disliked the lord chamber- 
 lain before the late king's death ; he knows that Po- 
 lonius was instrumental in depriving him of his in- 
 heritance, he knows that he has interfered to keep 
 Ophelia from him, he knows that he believes him 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 125 
 
 mad, and, recalling the fact that, a few moments be- 
 fore, he had found Polonius in close conversation 
 with the king and queen, who retired on his ap- 
 proach, he now suspects that he has aimed a further 
 blow at him by representing to their majesties that 
 his reason is dethroned. Hamlet does not fear the 
 result of this imputation, he even sees that it may 
 be useful to him, but, instinctively, he resents the 
 knowledge that Polonius has it in his power to make 
 him seem ridiculous, and he revenges this upon the 
 old councilor by making him a butt for ridicule, 
 and rejoices because, in so doing, he confirms him in 
 a belief in his insanity. He will scarcely listen when 
 Polonius tries to tell him of the actors' coming ; he 
 gibes the old man unmercifully, and, from this time 
 forth, seems unable to refrain from doing so when- 
 ever he encounters him. Polonius has become to 
 Hamlet what the red cloak is to the bull — wherever 
 he sees it he charges on it. Even in the presence 
 of the players he ridicules him, though he takes the 
 pains to tell them that they must not allow them- 
 selves the same liberty. 
 
 As Polonius is indissolubly connected in Hamlet's 
 mind with his lost love, his bantering words are 
 suggested a second time on this same day by the re- 
 membrance of Ophelia : instead of replying to her 
 father's encomiums of theplayers, he breaks in upon 
 their praises with the words : 
 
 O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou ! 
 Pol. What treasure had he, my lord ? 
 Ham. Why, 
 
 ' One fair daughter, and no more. 
 The which he loved passing well.' 
 
126 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 These lines were quoted from an old ballad well 
 known to Shakespeare's audiences. Had the poet a 
 subtle design in selecting them ? Did he mean to 
 suggest that there was a further parallel in Hamlet's 
 mind when he saluted Polonius as " Jephthah, judge 
 of Israel " ? Did he wish them to remember that 
 the daughter of Jephthah retired to the wilderness 
 to bewail her virginity? Hamlet might have recited 
 the whole ballad with personal applications, had he 
 not been interrupted by the entrance of the players. 
 He received them with a flattering welcome, and at 
 once required the First Player to repeat a speech 
 that he had heard before which pictures the grief of 
 Hecuba at the death of Priam. By this recitation 
 the Player is so moved that tears rise to his eyes, 
 and he grows pale, and Hamlet, seeing his agitation, 
 conceives a plan by which he can convince himself 
 whether the apparition he has seen was really his 
 father's spirit, or an emissary of the devil. He ar- 
 ranges for the presentation of a play the following 
 night, and demands of the First Player, when the 
 other actors have left his presence, whether he could 
 play The Murder of Gonzagp and insert in it a speech 
 of some dozen or sixteen lines which he should set 
 down for him. When he is left alone his Third So- 
 liloquy informs us why he asked these questions, 
 and what his project is. He says : 
 
 I have heard 
 That guilty creatures sitting at a play 
 Have by the very cunning of the scene 
 Been struck so to the soul that presently 
 They have proclaim'd their malefactions ; 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 127 
 
 For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak 
 
 With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players 
 
 Play something like the murder of my father 
 
 Before mine uncle : I'll observe his looks ; 
 
 I'll tent him to the quick : if he but blench. 
 
 I know my course. The spirit that I have seen 
 
 May be the devil : and the devil hath power 
 
 To assume a pleasing shape ; yea, and perhaps 
 
 Out of my weakness and my melancholy. 
 
 As he is very potent with such spirits. 
 
 Abuses me to damn me : I'll have grounds 
 
 More relative than this : the play's the thing 
 
 Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. 
 
 On beginning this soliloquy, which closes the 
 second act, Hamlet is most bitter in his self-abuse : 
 he contrasts the tender-heartedness of the Player, 
 who shed tears at the mere recital of imaginary 
 woes, with his own callousness and inaction under 
 an incentive so much greater: he displays the 
 natural exaggeration of invective that we employ 
 against ourselves, and sometimes against our most 
 valued friends, but the very fact that he reviles and 
 blames himself for a necessary delay in the execution 
 of what he, even yet, is not sure was his father's com- 
 mand, convinces his hearers that when once he is 
 assured the ghost is reliable he will quickly find out 
 a means to disenchant the queen, and to kill her 
 seducer. 
 
 Hamlet arrests himself in his torrent of self-abuse 
 with words that are, I think, generally misunder- 
 stood : 
 
 About, my brain ! 
 
 It is considered that these words are equivalent to 
 To work, my brain ! 
 
128 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 and the succeeding words, " I have heard, etc.," are 
 supposed to express the plan that the brain, 
 by its working, evolves. This is not so ; the plan 
 was conceived in all its details, while the Player 
 was describing Hecuba's imaginary sorrow, and 
 Hamlet had already arranged, before he spoke the 
 thought aloud, that the next night The Murder of 
 Gonzago, with some pertinent inserted lines, should 
 be played before his uncle. "About, my brain!" 
 means, ' Turn about, my brain ! do not consider my 
 remissness any longer. I have now arranged a trap 
 that shall catch my uncle if he be guilty.' It is 
 the same kind of speech as that with which he inter- 
 rupts himself the next night in his assertion of 
 friendship for Horatio : 
 
 Something too much of this. 
 Hamlet knows that when he is alone, or with a 
 trusted friend, he indulges in too much speech in 
 the reaction from his usual taciturnity. 
 
 In the Third Soliloquy although Hamlet expresses 
 great dissatisfaction with himself — dissatisfaction 
 which I think is not justified — yet he utters noth- 
 ing that can be ascribed to loss of mental power. 
 How is it possible to believe that he alternates 
 from reason to unreason? We know that lunatics 
 in the presence of their keepers have the art and 
 self-control to hide the manifestations of their in- 
 sanity, but Hamlet seems to hide them most when 
 he is absolutely alone. 
 
 The act which we have just considered represents, 
 in its two scenes, the occurrences of one day at the 
 Danish court — the first dav of the Second Period. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 129 
 
 We must remember that this day is two months , 
 after the revelation of the ghost. The revelation 
 of the ghost is so often alluded to because it was 
 the inspiration of all Hamlet's acts. The incidents 
 of the day, which I wish to recall, even though 
 to do so be tedious, are these : Early in the morn- 
 ing Hamlet forces his way into Ophelia's chamber; 
 his bearing convinces Ophelia, and Polonius to 
 whom she relates the circumstances of the visit, 
 that he is mad ; Polonius hastens to tell the king ; 
 Rosencrantz and Guildenstern arrive; the ambas- 
 sadors who were sent to Norway make their rep'ort ; 
 Polonius imparts his discovery to the king and 
 queen, and Claudius, on his suggestion, agrees that 
 Ophelia shall meet Hamlet where the king and 
 Polonius can overhear their talk ; Hamlet ap- 
 proaches, and, by a conversation in which he indi- 
 cates to the audience that he is still determined to 
 renounce Ophelia, confirms Polonius in the belief 
 that he is mad ; Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are 
 affectionately received by Hamlet, and are inter- 
 rupted in their conversation with him by the en- 
 trance of Polonius and the players ; Hamlet de- 
 sires the recitation of a speech he had once heard, 
 and the emotion of the Player while declaiming it 
 suggests a means by which he may entrap the 
 king's conscience and determine whether or not the 
 ghost had spoken sooth ; he arranges that a play 
 shall be acted before his uncle in which some 
 lines of his own composition shall'be inserted ; and 
 finally, in the Third Soliloquy, after a torrent of 
 self-abuse, he plainly expresses the reason why he 
 
130 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 has remained so long inactive ; — namely, the fear 
 that the spirit he has seen may be the devil, and 
 not his honored father, has constrained him to wait 
 for proof. 
 
 All these are the occurrences of one day — the day 
 on which Rosencrantz and Guildenstern arrive at 
 court. It is hard to realize that the next night 
 they leave Elsinore forever, going with Hamlet to 
 their death in England. We get the impression 
 that they were a long time at the Danish court, and 
 had formed their opinion as to Hamlet's madness 
 from many and varied interviews with him. In no 
 play is there more need to discriminate the time- 
 keeping of Shakespeare's two clocks — as Christo- 
 pher North expresses it — than in this. 
 
XII. 
 
 The first scene of the third act introduces the 
 king and queen, Polonius and Ophelia, and Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern, who are making their first 
 report, on the morning after their arrival. 
 
 The relations of Hamlet and his two school-fellows 
 are, I think, generally misunderstood ; the scene of 
 their meeting in the preceding act is misrepresented. 
 This misunderstanding exists because we do not 
 inquire what Shakespeare meant, but accept the 
 interpretation this or that commentator or actor 
 puts upon his lines. In the whole interview I do 
 not find a word to indicate that Hamlet distrusted 
 or suspected Rosencrantz and Guildenstern at their 
 first meeting; indeed, all the testimony opposes 
 this idea. It will be said that Hamlet's aside: 
 
 Nay, then, I have an eye of you, 
 indicates that he suspected them, and I might agree to 
 this if I felt sure that Shakespeare meant these words 
 to be said "aside," but there is no such direction in 
 any of the early editions. Steevens first inserted it, 
 but it is not in the Quartos or the Folio, and these 
 are the legitimate sources of the play. I think these 
 words should be spoken openly, in a frank and 
 cheery tone; the context indicates this. Hamlet 
 believed the king and queen had sent for his two 
 
 131 
 
132 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 friends, and he wanted to help them to the confes- 
 sion that this was so. While he would have pre- 
 ferred to have them come from pure love of him, as 
 Horatio had done, he did not suspect their friendli- 
 ness because their visit was made on the solicitation 
 of his mother. He had been, and still was, unhappy 
 and ill — transformed from his former self, and it 
 did not grieve or displease him to know that his 
 friends had been sent for to cheer him, but he did 
 want to know what they had been told respecting' 
 his condition. Until that morning — the morning of 
 their coming — there had existed no suspicion that 
 he was mad. Polonius had conceived the idea only 
 a few hours before, and had communicated it to the 
 king and queen. Hamlet had seen the three in 
 close conversation, and had seen their majesties 
 disappear as he approached, and, when he discovered 
 that Polonius supposed him mad, and, for that 
 reason, excused his conduct to Ophelia, he felt 
 assured that the old councilor had made the king 
 and queen partakers of his secret, and he thought 
 it possible that they, in turn, might have told 
 Guildenstern and Rosencrantz that their son's mind 
 was diseased. He wanted to discover if this was 
 so ; he meant to confide in his friends and laugh 
 with them at the idea, and he afterward introduced 
 the subject with this design, but was interrupted by 
 the entrance of Polonius : and it was Hamlet's rec- 
 ognition of Polonius's foolishness in judging him 
 insane that inspired his words to his friends : 
 
 That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swacl- 
 dling-clouts. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 133 
 
 When Hamlet asked his two school-fellows : 
 
 But, in the beaten way of friendship what make you at 
 Elsinore ? 
 
 he felt no suspicion of their integrity ; he had thrice 
 asked Horatio the same question : 
 
 And what malce you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? 
 But what, in faith, malce you from Wittenberg ? 
 and, 
 
 But what is your affair in Elsinore ? 
 
 Hamlet believes that loving remembrance has 
 brought his play-fellows to court, but he also sus- 
 pects that they were invited to come, and therefore 
 he asks the triple question : 
 
 Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a 
 free visitation ? 
 
 The question is thrice repeated because they do 
 not reply promptly to his first inquiry. He knows 
 that his mother is grieving over the change in his 
 conduct and disposition, and is not surprised at her 
 sending for his two friends ; he realizes that they 
 may not like to confess that they were prompted 
 to their visit ; he even thinks it possible that they 
 have been bound to secrecy; and he continues his 
 questioning, but without any suspicion that their 
 regard for him is not as warm and strong as his for 
 them. 
 
 But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by 
 the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-pre- 
 served love, and by what more dear a better proposer could 
 charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you 
 were sent for, or no. 
 
134 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Is it possible to believe that this beautiful adju- 
 ration was used by Hamlet as a cover to his 
 thoughts, and that he knew their " ever-preserved 
 love " was even then a thing of the past ? No ! 
 Hamlet used this language in all sincerity, desiring 
 only to make it easy for his friends to confess that 
 they were sent for. The false friends were young 
 men, unschooled in deceit and concealment, and, 
 responsive to this earnest appeal, each sought from 
 the other's face permission to make Hamlet par- 
 taker of the knowledge they possessed. Seeing the 
 interchange of glances, noting Rosencrantz's ques- 
 tion, " What say you ? " to encourage them to frank- 
 ness, Hamlet exclaims : 
 
 Nay, then, I have an eye of you, — [I see your confusion ;] 
 If you love me, hold not off. 
 
 And, in response, Guildenstern admits: 
 
 My lord, we were sent for. 
 Hamlet knew that thus to betray a confidence 
 reposed in them by their sovereigns was no slight 
 proof of friendship, and he accepted this admission 
 as an earnest of his school-fellows' love, and fore- 
 stalled their further confession by himself telling 
 them why they had been summoned. He would 
 have told them more if the current of his thoughts 
 had not been altered by the news of the players' 
 approach. If Hamlet had suspected his school- 
 fellows of being spies upon him he would never 
 have said : 
 
 My uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. ... I am 
 but mad north-north-west : when the wind is southerly I know 
 a hawk from a handsaw. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 135 
 
 Nor would he have arranged, in their presence, for 
 the insertion, by the players, of any lines in The 
 Murder of Gonzago ; neither would he, in parting 
 from them, have said, — 
 
 My good friends, I'll leave you till night : you are welcome to 
 Elsinore. 
 
 Actors make Hamlet hesitate at the v^orA friends, 
 and finally pronounce it as though it were an iron- 
 ical appellation, and this constrains them to omit 
 "You are welcome to Elsinore." Hamlet would 
 not have uttered these words if he had not meant 
 them — nowhere does he conceal his feelings by 
 falsehood, and Shakespeare would have omitted 
 them if he had not thought them essential. , Actors 
 make Hamlet treat the two courtiers with marked 
 rudeness, his tongue is tipped with sarcasms, and he 
 shows more civility to the players than to them. If 
 Hamlet had received and entertained his friends as 
 actors represent, is it possible that Rosencrantz and 
 Guildenstern would not have described this beha- 
 vior to the king and queen next morning ? What 
 they do say is this : 
 
 King. And can you, by no drift of circumstance, 
 
 Get from him why he puts on this confusion. 
 
 Grating so harshly all his days of quiet 
 
 With turbulent and dangerous lunacy ? 
 Ros. He does confess he feels himself distracted ; 
 
 But from what cause he will by no means speak, 
 Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, 
 
 But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof. 
 
 When we would bring him on to some confession 
 
 Of his true state. 
 Queen. Did he receive you well } 
 
136 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Eos. Most like a gentleman. 
 Guz'L But with much forcing of his disposition. 
 Ros. Niggard of question ; but, of our demands, 
 Most free in his reply. 
 
 This report proves that Rosencrantz and Guilden- 
 stern have seen and talked with Hamlet a second 
 time, because, in the first conversation, of which we 
 were hearers, the prince did not " put on this confu- 
 sion," or " confess himself distracted "; nor did his 
 school-fellows try to ," bring him on to some con- 
 fession of his true state." After parting from them 
 in the morning Hamlet probably reflected that his 
 friends had expressed no sorrow for the necessity 
 which induced the sending for them, and no sym- 
 pathy with his unhappiness, and this reflection pre- 
 pared his mind for a just judgment of them in their 
 second interview, which he had appointed for the 
 evening — " I'll leave you till night." Of this inter- 
 view Shakespeare gives us no record, but we can in- 
 fer its nature from the report of it I have just 
 quoted, and we must conclude that at this second 
 meeting Hamlet began to suspect the two spies, and 
 that, the doubt of their integrity once born, it grew 
 apace, until at the end of the next twenty-four hours 
 it ripened into open repudiation and defiance. 
 
 It may be objected that unless Hamlet, in an in- 
 terview of which we are v/itnesses, manifests his dis- 
 trust of his friends, the change in his bearing toward 
 them when we next see them together will be too 
 abrupt — not to be accounted for. To understand 
 the Tragedy of Hamlet, we must study it from the 
 text as Shakespeare wrote it, not from the modern 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 137 
 
 actor's rendering of it. We shall find that it is a play 
 in which results are presented, not processes. We 
 see the results of certain thoughts and actions, but 
 we must infer from the results, and from our knowl- 
 edge of character, what these thoughts and actions 
 have been. Thus Hamlet renounces Ophelia, but 
 we are not told by what process of reasoning he 
 made the decision to do so. Ophelia dies insane, 
 but we do not know madness is impending until we 
 see her absolutely deprived of reason : then we 
 judge that the loss of her father and of her lover has 
 destroyed her mind. Laertes appears suddenly in 
 Denmark, two months after his father's death. We 
 do not know he is coming, but when we see him we 
 instantly recognize that Ophelia's summons has 
 brought him thither. In the same way Shakespeare, 
 in the scene of the mock-play, shows us that Ham- 
 let distrusts his two school-fellows, and we know 
 that he has ground for doing so, although we have 
 not been shown the very manifestations of their 
 treachery that have enlightened him. The report 
 made by the two spies should assure the audience 
 how thoroughly they are the creatures of the king. 
 Taking their cue from him, in the teeth of opposing 
 testimony, they seem convinced of Hamlet's " crafty 
 madness," and speak of it openly in the presence of 
 Polonius and Ophelia. To be sure they have ob- 
 served the frivolity and impertinence of the prince's 
 behavior to the lord chamberlain, but they know 
 this bearing was assumed, even though they may 
 not have known the reason why, and this, there- 
 fore, gave them no excuse for believing what Clau- 
 
138 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 dius pretended to credit, — that Hamlet was really- 
 mad. 
 
 The question has bee'n raised whether Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern deserved the death that 
 Hamlet sent them to. I think the report they 
 made to the king answers this question. There is 
 no proof that they knew the contents of the com- 
 mission Claudius sent by them to England, but 
 there is also no proof that, had they known them, 
 they would have refused to carry it; and their ready 
 acceptance of Claudius's dictum, that Hamlet was a 
 dangerous lunatic, shows they were the king's in- 
 struments, and that he could use them for any 
 ofifice in their capacity to perform. 
 
XIII. 
 
 In making their report, in their anxiety to please 
 the king, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern did not 
 notice that Gertrude had not assented to the sug- 
 gestion that her son was mad ; but her silence and 
 curt questions indicate plainly that Claudius's belief 
 displeases her. She does not think Hamlet is 
 insane, and she suggests this by her two questions: 
 
 Did he receive you well ? 
 and, 
 
 Did you assay him to any pastime ? 
 
 These questions interrupt the flow of their con- 
 versation, and suggest that she is judging her son 
 from a totally different point of view from theirs. 
 When Claudius asks her to withdraw, so that he 
 and Polonius alone may listen to Hamlet's coming 
 encounter with Ophelia, she coldly answers : 
 
 I shall obey you. 
 
 To Polonius, during all this scene, she does not 
 speak a word. She does not wish to lend her 
 countenance to the plan he and the king have 
 formed ; she still believes that " his father's death " 
 and her " o'er hasty marriage " are cause enough for 
 all the altered bearing that Hamlet has displayed ; 
 Lbut she is courteous to Ophelia, and exempts her 
 from the displeasure she exhibits toward the others. 
 
 139 
 
140 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 AShe knows that the maiden loves her son, and is 
 doing now only what filial, obedience constrains her 
 to, and she parts from her with the words: 
 
 And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish 
 
 That your good beauties be the happy cause 
 
 Of Hamlet's wildness : so shall I hope your virtues 
 
 Will bring him to his wonted way again. 
 
 To both your honours. 
 
 ^ This is the first avowal Polonius has received that 
 Hamlet's suit to Ophelia, if he shall press it, will be 
 allowed. He is delighted, and instantly begins to 
 place his daughter, and bestow himself and Clau- 
 dius, so that they may witness the coming inter- 
 view without themselves being seen. Ophelia's 
 reply to the parting words of the queen enable us 
 to judge with what feelings she is going to this 
 interview. There is a dignity in their simplicity 
 that touches us : 
 
 Madam, I wish it may. 
 wShe has forgotten the ceremony that hedges a 
 queen : to her, at that moment, Gertrude is only the 
 mother of her love : this is her highest title. They 
 are two women whose hearts meet on one object, 
 and whose dearest hope is the happiness and well- 
 being of the prince_i The very lack of grammatical 
 accord with Gertrude's preceding words shows how 
 indifferent Ophelia is to her immediate surround- 
 ings. The brevity of her reply, which gives no ex- 
 cuse for the wish, no explanation of what she hopes 
 may result from the interview, shows how fully her 
 heart is possessed by it. 
 
 Madam, I wish it may. 
 
 J 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 141 
 
 She wishes it so absolutely, so intensely, that the 
 fewest, simplest words are used to express her 
 longing. A single syllable added would weaken the 
 force of her reply; protestation or amplification 
 would only lessen our belief in the maiden's love. 
 Polonius gives her a book — a book of devotion — 
 and she takes it without a word. She does not per- 
 form any of the ceremonies of politeness ; with her 
 hand upon her heart to control its tumult she waits 
 only for the coming of the prince ; her mind is so 
 projected into the coming interview, from which she 
 hopes so much, that she forgets she is the companion 
 of her king in a plot against her lover. She has not 
 sought the interview, it has been forced upon her; a 
 maiden less pliant would have avoided such a meet- 
 ing ; butOph eJi^ '"= irippy in the knowledge that her 
 father's command no longer exiles Hamlet from her 
 presence, and she hopes by tender indications of her ' 
 continued affection to restore him to mental healthy 
 ,.^he believes that madness animated him the day 
 before, when he so rudely sought and left her pres- 
 ence without a word, but she feels no fear; she 
 thinks her separation from him has been the cause 
 of all his changed behavior; and she believes that, 
 the cause removed, the effect will also disappear. ' 
 These are her thoughts as Hamlet approaches. 
 Poor maid ! how horribly are they disproved and 
 disarranged on his departure. When he enters the 
 lobby she is not praying, though she appears to do 
 so ; she observes him ^with the eye of her soul, 
 though her gaze seems fixed upon her book. She 
 cannot speak till he has noticed her, she could not 
 
142 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 speak even if she would ; her heart has left her breast 
 and tries to reach her lips ; its beating prevents the 
 use of speech ; and Hamlet's long soliloquy gives 
 her no more than time to recover command of her 
 wavering courage and faltering tongue. 
 
 Claudius had sent for Hamlet to come to the 
 lobby to meet him ; and the prince, when he reaches 
 the appointed place, glances carelessly around ex- 
 pectinig to see his uncle. In his absence he con- 
 tinues the thoughts with which he was occupied 
 when the summons reached him ; he deliberates upon 
 the new plan he has conceived by which he can sat- 
 isfy himself as to his uncle's guilt or innocence ; and 
 he expresses his deliberations in speech. 
 
 Hamlet is more hopeful now than he has been 
 since his mother's second marriage. When that was 
 celebrated he was plunged into profound grief, for 
 which he did not see any prospect of alleviation. 
 His sorrow for his lost father he thought would en- 
 dure forever, as would his disgust at his mother's 
 inconstancy and abandonment of her son's claim to 
 the crown. Her action had cut him oS from his 
 rightful succession until after his uncle's death. By 
 her union with Claudius she had sanctioned the 
 means by which he had obtained the throne, and 
 Hamlet did not, at that time, think of trying to de- 
 pose his uncle. Obedience to authority was Ham- 
 let's controlling principle; and he submitted to the re- 
 sult of his mother's inconstancy, because she was his 
 mother. Filial obedience did not, however, remove 
 his cause for sorrow ; and on his first appearance in 
 the play we saw Hamlet wishing^ — as unhappy 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 143 
 
 youth so often wishes — that death would end his 
 misery, and rebellious because the Almighty had 
 " fix'd his canon 'gainst self-slaughter." This rebel- 
 lion of spirit did not even then tempt him to diso- 
 bey his Heavenly Father's command, and since that 
 sad day — the second day of the play — his situation 
 has changed and he is now content to live : he no 
 longer believes that a waste of years separates him 
 from the throne. His father, whose claim on his 
 obedience supersedes his mother's, has come from 
 the grave and commanded him to kill his uncle. 
 
 With this command Hope woke in Hamlet's heart, 
 and Ambition and Revenge. These three spirits 
 have been his companions for two months. They 
 have not led him any nearer to his goal, but their 
 presence has cheered and encouraged him. Doubt 
 has assailed him from time to time as to the identity 
 of the apparition, and he has convinced himself that 
 the apparition was his father's only to doubt again 
 when he reflected on the grossness of the revelations 
 it had made. But he had at last, only the day be- 
 fore, contrived a means to exorcise this demon for- 
 ever, and the knowledge that he possesses this 
 power renders him calm and comparatively happy 
 while he waits for the hour to come in which he 
 shall work the spell. He knows that the mock-play, 
 whenever he presents it, will convince him of his 
 uncle's guilt or innocence, but he is not absolutely 
 certain that the time is ripe for its exhibition. Since 
 he conceived the plan he has reflected on the ulti- 
 mate results of the experiment. He fears that it 
 will force immediate action on him if the king be 
 
144 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 guilty; for if the mock-play convinces Hamlet that 
 the ghost is trustworthy, it will also reveal to the 
 king that Hamlet knows his secret ; and Claudius 
 will lose no time in silencing him forever, unless he, 
 by more speedy action, prevents it. Hamlet reflects 
 that if he kill the king before his own life is assailed 
 — convinced of his guilt by the mock-play — he has 
 no testimony that will satisfy the Danes that the 
 deed was justified. They may believe only that he 
 is a regicide who deserves death, and may at once 
 inflict it. He doubts whether the presentation of 
 the play, before he has secured proof that will sat- 
 isfy others of his uncle's guilt, is a wise expedient. 
 He believes that the play, if it convict the king, 
 must also touch his mother's conscience to the same 
 extent (he believes she was a party to her husband's 
 murder), and he fears that, being the accomplice of 
 Claudius, she niay cling to him more closely than 
 before their mutual guilt was discovered. This 
 would postpone instead of hastening the fulfillment 
 of his father's command. These considerations 
 make him hesitate to put his plan at once in action. 
 He reflects that trouble will inevitably result from 
 the mock-play, be his uncle guilty or innocent. The 
 play will touch him even if he did not kill his 
 brother; the king and queen will be publicly re- 
 buked for their "o'er-hasty marriage;" and the death 
 of the player king by violence, and not by accident, 
 will make public Hamlet's unfounded suspicions of 
 his uncle. He realizes that his plan, formed hastily, 
 and under the stimulus of the player's agitation, 
 may be a foolish one. He almost concludes that it 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 145 
 
 will be better that he should continue to suffer — as 
 he must still do if the ghost is proven a liar — than 
 that he should cover two other comparatively inno- 
 cent persons with shame, and direct suspicion to- 
 ward them. These thoughts are not plainly ex- 
 pressed in the text, but we impute them to Ham- 
 let because he expresses the result of them in the 
 Fourth Soliloquy — To be, or not to be. He certainly 
 weighed every consideration, for and against, before 
 he" finally determined to carry out his plan of the 
 mock-play as he had at first conceived it. 
 
 He was occupied with his deliberations when 
 Claudius's message summoned him to the lobby, 
 and, when he found that his uncle had not yet come 
 to the spot where he expected to meet him, Shake- 
 speare makes Hamlet continue his meditation, and 
 express it in speech, so that the audience may be 
 certified as to the subject with which his thoughts 
 are engaged. 
 
 The soliloquy. To be, or not to be, expresses his 
 deliberations, and does not relate to suicide. Let us 
 inquire what proof there is of this. 
 
XIV. 
 
 If we insert the nominative phrase that precedes, 
 in Hamlet's mind, the words, To be, or not to be, the 
 sentence will read : ' Is this thing, this plan, this 
 play, with all its inevitable results, to be? Is it. to 
 be, or not to be : that is the question.' To be, or not 
 to be, and the rest of this soliloquy, does not show 
 us this prince advancing an argument to restrain 
 himself from self-murder, but he reflects that his 
 own death at his uncle's hands will probably be the 
 result of the play if he presents it, and he rehearses 
 the considerations that move all men, even those 
 who have a Christian hope, to endure a long life 
 with its known evils, rather than to seek death with 
 its unknown miseries. If, with the belief that 
 Hamlet is thinking of suicide, we try to express 
 the words understood, in connection with the first 
 words of. the soliloquy, we must say, either — ' Am 
 I to be or not to be : that is the question ;' mean- 
 ing, ' Am I to exist, or not to exist ? ' or, 'Is it (my 
 self-murder) to be, or not to be : that is the ques- 
 tion.' This is not a thought that the succeeding 
 words elucidate : 
 
 Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
 The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
 Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
 And by opposing end them ? 
 146 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 147 
 
 In other words, ' the question is whether 'tis nobler 
 for me to continue in my mipd to suffer the slings 
 and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms 
 against a sea of troubles, and, by opposition, to end 
 them? ' If we infer that the opposing which is to 
 end the troubles is suicide, we must perceive that 
 this is not opposition. Oblivion, if it followed 
 death (but Hamlet knew it did not), might end 
 his troubles, and a different nature from Hamlet's 
 might contemplate seeking death as a relief from 
 the task he had vowed to perform ; but this would 
 really be submitting to be overwhelmed by the sea 
 of troubles, and not ending them by opposing 
 them — which is the alternative Hamlet expresses. 
 If Hamlet was contemplating suicide, and argued 
 himself out of the idea, he would not afterward 
 say: 
 
 Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 
 And thus the native hue of resolution 
 Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, . 
 And enterprises of great pith and moment 
 With this regard their currents turn away, 
 And lose the name of action. 
 
 He could not speak of self-murder as an enterprise 
 of great pith and moment. 
 
 These difficulties are inherent in the soliloquy if 
 we interpret it as a contemplation of suicide ; they 
 all vanish when we admit that he had not quite de- 
 cided to present the play, and that he was review- 
 ing the possible results of doing so. 
 
 Hamlet's thoughts ran something in this way: 
 ' I cannot decide whether it is wiser to present 
 
148 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 this play or not : there are reasons for and against 
 it : is it to be, or not to be ? — -that is the question. I can 
 not even determine whether 'tis nobler in the mind 
 to continue passively to suffer the slings and arrows 
 of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea 
 of troubles, and by opposing end them ? I am not 
 even sure that if I oppose them I shall end them. 
 I may not be successful. I may die in the attempt. 
 Even so ? — to die is to sleep ; no more ; and by a sleep 
 to say we end the heart-ache, and the thousand nat- 
 ural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 
 devoutly to be wish'd for, and I can not see why all 
 men do not welcome death. To die, is surely to 
 sleep ; but to sleep is not always to rest ! — to sleep \% 
 perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub ; [for in that 
 sleep of death what dreams may come when we have 
 shuffled off tliis mortal coil, must give us pause. This 
 is the reason men do not welcome death ; there's 
 the respect that makes calamity of so long life ; for 
 who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the 
 oppressor' s wrong, the proud man s contumely, the 
 pangs of despised love, the law's delay, the insolence 
 of office and the spurns that patient merit of the un- 
 worthy takes, when he himself m,ight his quietus make 
 with a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, to grunt 
 and sweat under a lueary life, but that the dread of 
 something after death, the undiscover d country, from 
 zvhose bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will and 
 makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to 
 others that we know not of? These are the consid- 
 erations that restrain men from death. Thus con- 
 science does make cowards of us all ; and thus the 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 149 
 
 native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale 
 cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and mo- 
 ment with this regard their currents turn awry, and 
 lose the name of action.' 
 
 I think this paraphrase briefly expresses Hamlet's 
 thoughts while he was waiting for his uncle. At 
 the beginning he was contemplating what must fol- 
 low the mock-play, and he saw that instead of kill- 
 ing Claudius he might be killed by him. At first 
 thought, this seemed a consummation devoutly to 
 be wished ; to die was to sleep ; no more ; and 
 this philosophic reflection set a text for his thoughts, 
 which he pursued until he had set in array the 
 troubles mankind is subject to, and had decided 
 that, if death were only a sleep, all unhappy men 
 would " their quietus make with a bare bodkin." 
 The troubles he enumerates are not those only that 
 he has suffered from ; but the list is a synthesis of 
 the miseries of rich and poor, of prince and peasant. 
 
 Hamlet has not been subjected to all, or half, the 
 miseries he enumerates; but he knows that there 
 are men who bear them, and he meditates on the 
 incentive that induces humanity to suffer so long : 
 this he says is dread of the worser troubles after 
 death. He does not say that suicide, only, entails 
 punishment ; all death, whether self-inflicted or not, 
 entails it. Conscience whispers to all men that 
 they deserve discipline, and not knowing what it 
 will be, mankind hesitates to seek relief in death 
 from the troubles of this world : they fear to fly to 
 evils that they know not of. 
 
 This generalization, this moralizing on present 
 
ISO THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 and future punishment is the extent of Hamlet's 
 meaning in the latter part of the soliloquy. The 
 words, To be or not to be : that is the question : relate 
 to the plan he has conceived and its results, and so 
 Claudius understood it. He and Polonius hear the 
 soliloquy, as they wait in hiding to observe Hamlet's 
 conduct toward Ophelia ; and Claudius, while he 
 does not know — as the audience does — what subject 
 Hamlet is revolving, perceives that it is some plan 
 which bodes danger to him. He says : 
 
 There's something in his soul. 
 O'er which his melancholy sits on brood ; 
 And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose 
 Will be some danger. 
 
 Some danger to me, Claudius means, and not to 
 Hamlet. If Hamlet spoke of suicide, and Claudius' 
 understood him, the danger would be disclosed : it 
 would menace Hamlet only, and Claudius need not 
 fear the hatch. But the king knew from this solilo- 
 quy that Hamlet was brooding over something ; 
 incubating it; and he realized that the hatch and the 
 disclose of the as yet unknown subject of medita- 
 tion would be some danger to himself. Hamlet's 
 threat to Ophelia, all but one shall live, confirmed 
 this conclusion, and therefore Claudius determines, 
 on the instant, to banish Hamlet from the court. 
 He says, , 
 
 I have in quick determination 
 
 Thus set it down : he shall with speed to England, 
 
 For the demand of our neglected tribute : 
 
 Haply the seas and countries different 
 
 With variable objects shall expel 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 151 
 
 This something-settled matter in his heart, 
 Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus 
 From fashion of himself. 
 
 but this was not his real object. He does not care 
 to restore Hamlet to happiness, but he determines 
 to save himself. If he thought Hamlet spoke of 
 suicide, Claudius would rejoice : his happiness would 
 be secured if Hamlet, by his own act, should remove 
 himself forever from his path. If he thought Ham- 
 let spoke of suicide he would make no effort to 
 expel this something-settled matter in his heart by 
 sending him on a sea voyage, but would encourage, 
 if he could, the broodings that were prompting 
 Hamlet to invite death. The something-settled 
 matter that was in Hamlet's heart was the project 
 of the mock-play. 
 
 This scene is one of many where the audience- 
 being the friends and confidants of Hamlet^ — under- 
 stand the meaning of his words, and follow the 
 current of his thoughts, while they seem unintelli- 
 gible and inexplicable to those with whom he is in 
 converse. 
 
 If Hamlet had been represented by Shakespeare 
 as entering the lobby with his eyes fixed on a scroll 
 in which was written out the lines he had prepared 
 for the players to insert in The Murder of Gonzago, 
 the meaning of To be, or not to be, never would have 
 been disputed. It would be evident when he spoke, 
 that he was considering the mock-play. To repre- 
 sent him thus is a liberty that any actor might take ; 
 and this little aid to understanding would be 
 all that even a stupid audience would need to 
 
152 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 make them discover the subject of Hamlet's 
 thoughts. 
 
 The meaning of this soliloquy does not affect 
 the progress of the' play, it might be omitted with- 
 out interfering with the action or understanding of 
 it ; but its true interpretation, if it be retained, 
 is very essential to the development of Hamlet's 
 character. We degrade Hamlet utterly if we ad- 
 mit that at this hour, when he has at last conceived 
 a plan that will impose action on him, he is thinking 
 of death as a possible means of release from the ob- 
 ligation he has accepted. From the moment he 
 receives the command of his father's spirit, Hamlet 
 never attempts to evade the performance of it, but 
 he desires to convince himself that the imposition 
 did not come from the devil. He did not feel that 
 the duty — if it were a duty — was too heavy for him 
 to accomplish ; he felt competent to kill his uncle, 
 and he believed he would be able to detach his 
 mother's heart from him. He did long for death 
 when he first realized that he had lost his father, 
 his inheritance, and his place in his mother's heart ; 
 when he thought there was no place for him — an 
 absolutely upright soul — in the unweeded garden of 
 the world, but not after he had recognized as his 
 duty the obligation to reclaim the crown from a 
 murderer and a thief, and even when he most de- 
 sired the balm of oblivion he had no thought of 
 procuring it for himself. The duty afterward im- 
 posed on him by the apparition compelled him to 
 live, and made life bearable, because it gave him 
 hope of happier days. He vowed to perform the 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 153 
 
 task, and he expects to receive for its performance, 
 in addition to the satisfaction of giving rest to his 
 beloved father, the guerdon of a crown. The 
 ghost's revelation, by making him reflect on Ophe- 
 Ha's disposition, has necessitated a great sacrifice, 
 though it did not command it — the renunciation of 
 a union with the maiden, but Hamlet's rectitude 
 is so perfect that he knows he would not be happy 
 with any but an absolutely pure nature, and he is at 
 last reconciled to live without Ophelia. He made 
 his final decision the day before he uttered this so- 
 liloquy, and conveyed it to Ophelia and Polonius. 
 Since making that decision he has made a further 
 advance toward fulfilling the ghost's command : he 
 has conceived a plan that must force action upon 
 him, if the spirit was indeed his father's. 
 
 Critics say that at this juncture, when at last he 
 has secured the means to learn the truth, — the means 
 for which he has been seeking for two months,- — 
 Hamlet, because he sees that the mock-play will 
 necessitate action, seeks to evade it by committing 
 suicide. What does he gain by suicide? If his 
 uncle be guilty it should be as easy to kill him as to 
 kill oneself, and why should he commit self-murder 
 before he attempts to kill the king, when death is 
 the utmost penalty that he can suffer if he make 
 the attempt? If he tries to kill the king he may 
 succeed, even if he pay the forfeit of his own life, 
 but to die without attacking his uncle would be the 
 height of cowardice, physical and moral. Why 
 should Hamlet prefer self-murder to death at his 
 uncle's hands or at the Danes' ? 
 
154 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 The soliloquy To be, or not to be, is prompted only 
 by doubts whether it is best to present the mock- 
 play, and a temptation to suicide does not enter 
 Hamlet's mind. ^ 
 
 In confirmation of this interpretation of Hamlet's 
 musings let us consider how the current of his 
 thoughts is indicated to us, all through the play. 
 Every time he leaves our presence he is possessed by 
 some controlling idea, and his mind is occupied by it 
 until he again appears, and, taking up the considera- 
 tion of the same subject, continues it in our sight and 
 hearing. Thus, when we see him first he is disgusted 
 with life and desirous to be rid of it. Horatio dis- 
 places these reflections by the intelligence that the 
 dead king's spirit walks, and Hamlet leaves our pre- 
 sence possessed by this thought and by the determi- 
 nation to watcli that night. When we next see him 
 he has come to the platform to carry out that inten- 
 tion, and, when he leaves us again, he has sworn to 
 make his memory a blank, to " wipe away all tender 
 fond records," and devote himself to revenging his 
 father's murder. Our next knowledge of him, which 
 we get from report, not sight, shows him engaged in 
 an act that his father's revelation has made necessary 
 — the renunciation of Ophelia, and when we do see 
 him, soon after this renunciation, his thoughts are 
 .still occupied by it, and he expresses his determina- 
 tion to Polonius, who does not, however understand 
 him. The arrival of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, 
 and of the players who follow them, suggests other 
 thoughts. Hamlet requests the player to recite some 
 lines, and, while listening to them, he conceives a 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 155 
 
 plan to entrap his uncle : he makes arrangements to 
 execute it, and leaves our presence intent upon the 
 idea. When he next appears the Fourth Soliloquy, 
 To be, or not to be, indicates that he is still revolving 
 the plan, which does not now seem so desirable as 
 when he first conceived it. After continuing this 
 soliloquy for some time, without making a decision, 
 he interrupts himself, on catching sight of Ophelia, 
 who compels him to repulse her by words, as he has 
 already done by action. This conversation with her, 
 on a subject that was already settled so far as he was 
 concerned, does not engross him after it is ended, 
 and his thoughts return to the consideration of the 
 mock-play. When we see him next he is instructing 
 the player how to speak the lines he wishes inserted 
 in it. In spite of the risk of defeat and death he has 
 decided to set his " mouse-trap." The principle of 
 obedience exacts that he shall at least assure himself 
 that the spirit was his father's. After the mock- 
 play we clearly see all his thoughts until he leaves 
 Denmark for England. The last words we hear him 
 speak before he sails — 
 
 O, from this time forth. 
 My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth ! — 
 
 lead us to expect that bloody thoughts will occupy 
 him when next we see him. He remains away 
 almost two months, but, on his return to Denmark, 
 his conversation with Horatio and the grave-digger 
 proves that his only desire is at once to kill the king, 
 and this feeling possesses him until the end of the 
 play. Ophelia's funeral, and the fencing match, in- 
 
156 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 terrupt but do not turn aside his thoughts from this 
 one subject, and he dies having accomplished his 
 father's injunction. Hamlet's speeches on his every 
 entrance in the play indicate progress toward this 
 point and not retrogression. The coherence of 
 thought from one appearance to another is un- 
 broken, unless we admit that in the soliloquy, To be, 
 or not to be, his thoughts have been dislocated and 
 turned back to connect with those he expressed in 
 the First Soliloquy. This I can not allow. 
 
XV. 
 
 A CONSIDERATION of the First Quarto and of the 
 old Hystorie of Hamblet will help us to make a 
 judgment, as to the subject of the prince's thoughts ; 
 but first we must convince ourselves that Hamlet 
 has absolutely no doubt of the immortality of the 
 soul, and steadfastly believes in a state of future 
 rewards and punishments. He could not express 
 this more, strongly than he does in the Sixth 
 Soliloquy, as he who runs may read. But, indeed, 
 the return of his father's spirit from the grave 
 should have convinced him that death did not end 
 existence, had he ever felt any doubt, of which there 
 is no proof. Most of Hamlet's suffering was the 
 reflex of what his father was enduring after death. 
 We need only now consider the' Sixth Soliloquy 
 with reference to the proof it gives us of Hamlet's 
 belief in a future life. He sees the king on his 
 knees absorbed in prayer, and is tempted to kill him. 
 
 Now might I do it pat, now he is praying ; 
 And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven ; 
 And so I am revenged. That would be scann'd : 
 A villain kills my father ; and for that, 
 I, his sole son, do this same villain send 
 To heaven. 
 , O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. 
 He took my father grossly, full of bread ; 
 With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May ; 
 
 r57 
 
158 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 And how his audit stands who knows save heaven ? 
 
 But in our circumstance and course of thought, 
 
 'Tis heavy with him : and am I then revenged, 
 
 To take him in the purging of his soul, 
 
 When he is fit and season'd for his passage ? 
 
 No! 
 
 Up, sword ; and know thou a more horrid hent : 
 
 When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, 
 
 Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed ; 
 
 At gaming, swearing, or about, some act 
 
 That has no relish of salvation in't; 
 
 Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, 
 
 And that his soul may be as damn'd and black 
 
 As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays : 
 
 This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. 
 
 Does not this convince us that Hamlet knew death 
 was much more than a dreamless sleep? 
 
 In the First Quarto the soliloquy To be, or not to 
 be, and the succeeding conversation with Ophelia are 
 introduced earlier in the drama. They precede the 
 coming of the players and the conception of the 
 idea of the mock-play : they iinmediately succeed 
 the interview with Ophelia in her chamber. The 
 convei:sation with Ophelia in the lobby is in sub- 
 stance, though not in literal expression, the same as 
 that which Shakespeare, while altering its location, 
 preserves in the Second Quarto, but the soliloquy 
 is as follows : 
 
 To be, or not to be, I there's the point. 
 
 To Die, to fleepe, is that all ? I all : 
 
 No, to fleepe, to dreame, I mary there it goes, 
 
 For in that dreame of death, when wee awake, 
 
 And borne before our euerlasting fudge. 
 
 From whence no paffenger euer return'd, 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 159 
 
 The vndifcouered country, at whofe fight 
 
 The happy fmile, and the accurfed damn'd. 
 
 But for this, the ioyfull hope of this, 
 
 Whol'd bear the fcornes and flattery of the world, 
 
 Scorned by the right rich, the rich curffed of the poore ? 
 
 The widow being oppreffed, the orphan wrong'd. 
 
 The tafte of hunger, or a tirants raigne. 
 
 And thoufand more calamities befides. 
 
 To grunt and fweate 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 fomething after death ? 
 
 Which pufles the braine, and doth confound the fence, 
 
 Which makes vs rather beare thofe euilles we haue. 
 
 Than flie to others that we know not of. 
 
 I that, O this confcience makes cowardes of vs all. 
 
 Lady in thy orizons, be all my finnes remembred, 
 
 Shakespeare, when he revised the play, kept the 
 soHloquy and the conversation with Ophelia in 
 apposition, but, while he made very little change in 
 ' the conversation, he entirely re-wrote the soliloquy, 
 altering and expanding it, and changing its appli- 
 cation and its prominent idea. 
 
 In the First Quarto, the soliloquy, in the relation 
 in which it stood to the other scenes, could not 
 refer to the mock-play. There was no question of 
 a play the result of which might necessitate killing 
 Claudius, but Hamlet squarely debated the subject 
 he had been considering for two months, — whether 
 he should believe ths ghost and act on its command 
 or not. In the First Quarto the words. To be, or not 
 to be, refer for their antecedent phrase to the reve- 
 lation of the gho.st and the duty imposed by it. The 
 question thus suggested is the one for which the 
 
i6o THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 comprehensive it (understood) is substituted. To 
 be, or not to be, I there's the point, means, ' Am I to 
 take the word of the apparition for sooth, and kill 
 the king on this testimony, or not ? Is it to be, or 
 not to be ? ' 
 
 Shakespeare saw the possibility that the appli- 
 cation of these words might not be perfectly plain, 
 and he saw that the place they occupied in the First 
 Quarto was not the most effective for them : there- 
 fore he removed the soliloquy to its present posi- 
 tion. 
 
 I there's the point 
 
 did not suggest the consideration of alternatives as 
 
 plainly as, 
 
 That is the question. 
 
 Therefore he removed the former phrase from its 
 position in the first line, and inserted it further on, as, 
 
 ay, there's the rub, , 
 
 filling the hiatus formed by its removal with, 
 
 That is the question. 
 Then he expressed another question, on the answer 
 to which the answer to the first depended : 
 
 Whether 'tis (= is it) nobler in the mind to suffer 
 The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. 
 Or to take arms against a sea of troubles. 
 And by opposing end them ? 
 
 This second question is not given in the First 
 Quarto : that instantly jumps to the consideration 
 that death might result from Hamlet's efforts to 
 obey the ghost. But Shakespeare, when he wrote. 
 And by opposing end them, 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. i6i 
 
 did not think that the phrase would be interpreted 
 and by uniting ivith them enable them to overcome me. 
 He thought he had exhibited Hamlet with such a 
 noble character that other noble minds would not 
 accuse him of cowardice and procrastination. He 
 held the clue to all of Hamlet's thoughts and 
 hesitations and actions, and he believed he had ex- 
 pressed all that was necessary to give others a hold 
 on it. In a drama a character does not, as in a 
 narrative, say, " At such a juncture I thought so 
 and so :" his thoughts must be divined from his 
 actions. Hamlet's soliloquies are, in this sense, his 
 actions. 
 
 Some critics think that the change of position of 
 the Fourth Soliloquy was injudicious, and their 
 judgment is right if Hamlet was thinking of suicide. 
 Its proper place with that interpretation is as near 
 the First Soliloquy — 
 
 O, that this too too solid flesh would melt — 
 
 as possible. But Shakespeare did not make the 
 change of place without consideration. The elabor- 
 ation of the soliloquy and the change of the 
 restraining motive should convince us that he 
 considered this matter also, and put the lines where 
 he thought they were needed, filling the place from 
 which he took them by the conversation of Ham- 
 let and Polonius, and supplying words to introduce 
 it that were not called for where the soliloquy was 
 before located. 
 
 The change in the position of the soliloquy 
 ' and its amplification was not the only alteration 
 
i62 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Shakespeare made : he changed its main idea. Ac- 
 cording to the First Quarto men endure trouble in 
 this world buoyed up by the hope of a blissful im- 
 mortality : 
 
 But for this, the ioyfull hope of this,* 
 
 Whol'd bear the fcornes and flattery of the world, 
 
 . . . who would this indure. 
 But for a hope of fomething after death ? 
 
 In the First Quarto Hope is the angel who sus- 
 tains humanity during a long life ; in the Second 
 Quarto a threatening Nemesis, whispering of future 
 punishment, frightens mankind into enduring it so 
 long. This is a vital change in the prominent idea 
 of the soliloquy. The First Quarto expresses the 
 Christian sentiment, and this we should expect to 
 animate Hamlet. It must be some strong reason 
 that induced Shakespeare to substitute the pagan 
 opinion for the Christian teaching. This reason we 
 find on turning to p. 304 of the Hystorie of Hamblet. 
 Reading from, " To conclude, glorie is the crowne 
 of vertue," through the paragraph, we find there the 
 origin of each idea of the soliloquy. Shakespeare 
 re -wrote with the Hystorie before him, and he ex- 
 pressed in To be, or not to be, the same thoughts 
 that moved prince Hamblet in the old novel. He 
 altered their order and expressed them differently, 
 but the end of Hamblet's conversation with his 
 mother is paraphrased in To be, or not to be. Let us 
 place the passages from the old Hystorie in the 
 order in which Shakespeare used them, and point 
 out the thoughts each one suggested to him, and 
 the manner of their rendering in the soliloquy. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 163 
 
 Hamblet has been debating whether he would 
 better kill his uncle, and the means to be employed. 
 He says : (p. 299) 
 
 it was not without cause, and iuste occasion, yt my 
 gestures, countenances, and words seeme all to pro- 
 ceed from a madman, and that I desire to haue all 
 men esteeme mee wholly depriued of sence and rea- 
 sonable vnderstanding.because I am well assured, that 
 h.e hath made no conscience to kill his owne brother, 
 (accustomed to murthers, & allured with desire of 
 gouernement without controll in his treasons) will not 
 spare to saue himselfe with the like crueltie, in the 
 blood & flesh of the loyns of his brother, by him 
 massacred : & therefore, it is better for me to fayne 
 madnesse then to vse my right sences as nature hath 
 bestowed them vpon me. The bright shining clear- 
 nes thereof I am forced to hide vnder this shadow 
 of dissimulation, as the sun doth hir beams vnder 
 some great cloud, when the wether in sommer time 
 ouercasteth : the face of a mad man, serueth to 
 couer my gallant countenance, & the gestures of a 
 fool are fit for me, to y" end that guiding myself 
 wisely therin I may preserue my life for y^ Danes, 
 & the memory of my late deceased father, for y* 
 the desire of reuenging his death is so ingrauen in 
 my heart y* if I dye not shortly, I hope to take such 
 and so great vengeance, that these Countryes shall 
 foreuer speake thereof. Neuerthelesse I must stay 
 the time, meanes, and occasion, lest by making ouer 
 great hast, I be now the cause of mine owne 
 sodaine ruine and ouerthrow, and by that meanes, 
 end, before I beginne to effect my hearts desire : hee 
 that hath to doe with a wicked, disloyall, cruell, 
 and discourteous man, must vse craft, and politike 
 inuentions, such as a fine witte can best imagine, 
 not to discover his interprise : for seeing that by 
 force I cannot effect my desire, reason alloweth me 
 
i64 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 by dissimulation, subtiltie, and secret practices to 
 proceed therein. 
 
 And further he adds: 
 
 I know it is foolishly done, to gather fruit before 
 it is ripe, & to seeke to enioy a benefit, not know- 
 ing whither it belong to vs of right. 
 
 As these thoughts occupy Hamblet in the old 
 novel, so they occur to our prince before he begins 
 to speak : he knows it is foolishly done to seek to 
 kill his uncle, in obedience to the ghost's command, 
 before he secures testimony that will satisfy his 
 mother and the Danes that Claudius deserves death ; 
 he knows it is foolishly done to seek to place him- 
 self upon the throne, before he is absolutely certain 
 that his uncle wrongfully withholds it from him ; 
 he knows it is foolishly done to expose to his crafty 
 uncle any device that his fine wit entertains, unless 
 he is certain it will be successful ; and, knowing all 
 this, he does not know that it is wise to present the 
 mock-play. These thoughts precede and suggest 
 the first line of the soliloquy and its expansion. 
 Because he knov/s all this, he says, speaking about 
 the play: 
 
 To be, or not to be : that is the question : 
 
 [I cannot decide it, nor can I now decide,] 
 
 Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
 The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
 Or to take arms against a sea of troubles. 
 And by opposing end them .' 
 
 The next passage from the Hystorie — 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 165 
 
 glorie is the crowne of virtue, & the price of con- 
 stancie, and seeing that it neuer accompanieth 
 with infelicitie, but shunneth cowardize and spirits 
 of base & trayterous conditions, it must necessarily 
 foUowe, that either a glorious death will be mine 
 ende, or with my sword in hand, (laden with try- 
 umph and victorie) I shall bereaue them of their 
 Hues, that made mine vnfortunate — 
 
 leads him to think that, as his uncle is a coward 
 and a traitor, the attempt against him may be suc- 
 cessful. 'But if it be not,' Hamlet thinks, 'what of 
 it? what if I be killed? what is it to die ? to sleep ; 
 no more.' The amplification of this thought is 
 
 expressed by — 
 
 To die ; to sleep ; 
 
 No more ; and by a sleep to say we end 
 
 The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks 
 
 That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 
 
 Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep ; 
 
 To sleep : perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub ; 
 
 For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 
 
 When we have shuffled off this mortal coil. 
 
 Must give us pause : there's the respect 
 
 That makes calamity of so long life. 
 From this point the soliloquy is an expansion of 
 the following passage : 
 
 For why should men desire to Hue, when shame 
 & infamie are the executioners that torment their 
 consciences, and villany is the cause that witholdeth 
 the heart from valiant enterprises, and diuerteth the 
 minde from honest desire of glorie and commenda- 
 tion, which indureth for euer? 
 
 Not all the lines suggested by this passage are 
 
 found in the First Quarto : the lines that follow, 
 
 Thus conscience does make cowards of us all. 
 
i66 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 have no counterpart in it ; but these lines are plainly 
 a paraphrase of the passage I have just quoted, and 
 the lines preceding it are, as plainly, suggested by it. 
 
 When Shakespeare added this paraphrase to the 
 soliloquy, he perceived that a hope of happiness 
 after death was not the motive that supported 
 those whose consciences were tormented by " shame 
 and infamie." He knew that men who were at- 
 tended by these executioners did not hope but 
 feared, and preferred to bear those ills they had, 
 rather than fly to others that they knew not of. 
 This is the reason Shakespeare made the change of 
 hope to dread. 
 
 If we allow that Shakespeare paraphrased the 
 Hystorie, we shall be constrained to admit that it 
 expresses what Hamlet meant to express in the 
 Fourth Soliloquy. We shall be compelled to per- 
 ceive that he was revolving in his mind some 
 " politic inventions, such as a fine wit can best 
 imagine, not to discover his enterprise," and we 
 shall be forced to conclude that he spoke of death in 
 general, as affecting all mankind, and, when he con- 
 templated the possibility of his own death, thought 
 of it as inflicted by others, and not by his own hand. 
 
 Early in this century Ziegler, a German actor, ad- 
 vanced the theory that Hamlet, by To be, or not to 
 be, referred to the mock-play, and not to suicide, 
 and several other German critics have since agreed 
 with him. This seems to be the only interpretation 
 that does not degrade Hamlet in our estimation : 
 to see him seeking oblivion by suicide minifies him. 
 This idea of the soliloquy does not rob it of any of 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 167 
 
 its beauties, but it enriches our idea of Hamlet. 
 We see that he has even greater moral and intel- 
 lectual gifts than we before attributed to him. We 
 realize that in spite of his appreciation of what 
 might ensue, he did present the mock-play, and we 
 are forced to confess that he did not delay unduly 
 to prove the ghost reliable, or to try to execute its 
 dread command. 
 
 Shakespeare did not, as is asserted, write care- 
 lessly when, after the return of the ghost from the 
 other world, he made Hamlet speak of 
 
 The undiscover'd country from whose bourn 
 No traveller returns. 
 
 Hamlet meant that country from which no traveler 
 can return. All other journeys a traveler can 
 abandon if he be dissatisfied with what he finds at 
 his journey's end, but from beyond the bourn of 
 Death no traveler returns. If once he reaches that 
 undiscovered country he is a prisoner ; he must be- 
 come an inhabitant ; his sojourn is not a visit that 
 he can end at will, but a compulsory residence ; nor 
 can he send back any account of it, or of its people. 
 In this it differs from all other countries, and in this 
 sense it is undiscovered, unknown. Hamlet does 
 not forget that his father had come from hell to 
 speak with him, but he does not consider this the 
 return of a traveler: it was only a momentary re- 
 lease from confinement. This explanation seems 
 necessary to confirm the belief that Shakespeare 
 thoughtfully considered the Fourth Soliloquy, and 
 the changes he made from the first conception of it. 
 
XVI. 
 
 With any interpretation of the Fourth Soliloquy, 
 I do not see how critics have persuaded themselves 
 to believe that the same mind that gives expression 
 to these grand and beautiful thoughts, in words that 
 echo the feeling of every world-weary mind, can in a 
 moment assume and feign the rudeness and cruelty 
 of Hamlet's tauntings of Ophelia. Nothing can 
 excuse them except the belief that they are wrung 
 from his tortured heart by the thought that Ophe- 
 lia, Polonius, and the king are all combined in a 
 league to force him to a marriage that the revela- 
 tion of the ghost has made forever impossible. But 
 Hamlet, when he comes to the lobby obedient to 
 his uncle's summons, has forgotten Ophelia ; has 
 forgotten that he means to separate himself from 
 her; he thinks only of his new-made plan, 
 speaking his thoughts aloud. In his surprise, 
 when he first perceives the maiden there, the 
 habit of his happier hours controls his tongue, and 
 he breaks off his graver speech with the tender 
 words : 
 
 Soft you now ! 
 The fair Ophelia ! Nymph, in thy orisons 
 Be all my sins remember'd. 
 i68 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 169 
 
 The spell still controls him when, in reply to her 
 timorous greeting — 
 
 Good my lord, 
 How does your lordship for this many a day ? 
 
 he answers : 
 
 I humbly thank you ; well, well, well. 
 
 But it is rudely broken by her succeeding speech : 
 
 My lord, I have remembrances of yours. 
 That I have longed long to re-deliver ; 
 I pray you, now receive them, 
 
 Ophelia has brought these little gifts without the 
 knowledge of her father. There was a sort of pre- 
 science in her heart that told her Hamlet might be 
 eternally estranged, and her maidenly pride had 
 found a way to retreat from the interview without 
 exposing itself to absolute rout and defeat, while at 
 the same time it invited Hamlet to renew his vows 
 of love. She would be the first to suggest the sepa- 
 ration ; if Hamlet objected to it, her happiness 
 would be the greater. Her words recall to Hamlet 
 all his recent determinations ; he still adheres to 
 them, but he had not meant to hurt the maid with 
 speech. He thought that absence from her, and 
 silence, would indicate his changed intentions, but 
 now the subject is forced upon him, and he tries to 
 avoid it and to save Ophelia by denial. He trusts to 
 her belief in the report that he is mad, and answers : 
 
 No, not I ; 
 I never gave you aught. 
 
 This is not only contrary to the truth, but it is con- 
 trary to the testimony that Ophelia is expecting to 
 
I70 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 furnish her two listeners, and she is forced to press 
 the gifts on Hamlet : 
 
 My honour'd lord, you know right well you did ; 
 And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed 
 As made the things more rich : their perfume lost. 
 Take these again ; for to the noble mind 
 Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. 
 
 She hands them to him, with the words that breathe 
 her satisfaction in so much accomplished : 
 
 There, my lord. 
 
 There is both dignity and self-assertion in Ophelia's 
 tender words. Hamlet is touched by the expres- 
 sions that reveal her love, and, while he laughs off 
 her contradiction, once more a passing doubt assails 
 him as to whether he must, to keep his self-respect, 
 abandon so fair an epitome of youth and love. He 
 asks her : 
 
 Ha, ha ! Are you honest ? 
 
 Honest does not carry the same meaning as when 
 Hamlet employed it to Polonius : it differs as does 
 honor when we apply it to women or to men. It 
 means here, 
 
 Are you virtuous ? 
 
 and so Ophelia understands it, and shows her under- 
 standing in her exclamation of shocked surprise : 
 
 My lord ? 
 
 Hamlet perceives her emotion, and looking on her 
 face he answers his own question by another: 
 
 Are you fair .' 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 171 
 
 Ophelia, alarmed at she knows not what, re- 
 sponds : 
 
 What means your lordship ? 
 
 and he replies : 
 
 That if j^ou be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no 
 discourse to your beauty. 
 
 And he mentally continues : 
 
 [for you are of such a natural disposition that if you be exposed 
 to temptation you will inevitably succumb to it.] 
 
 This is the same thought he had before expressed to 
 Polonius: 
 
 Have you a daughter ? . . . Let her not walk i' the sun : 
 conception is a blessing : but not as your daughter may con- 
 ceive. Friend, look to't. 
 
 To Hamlet's spoken words Ophelia replies : 
 
 Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with 
 honesty ? 
 
 and Hamlet substantially repeats his assertion: 
 
 Ay, truly ; for the power of beauty will sooner transform 
 honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty 
 can translate beauty into his likeness : this was some time a 
 paradox, but now the time gives it proof, [the time in which I 
 have discovered the ruin my mother's beauty wrought upon 
 her honesty.] 
 
 Thinking on the happy time when he had believed 
 her innocent, he adds: 
 
 I did love you once. 
 OpA. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. 
 
 The use of this word indeed, by the tone it imparts 
 to the spoken reply, shows to a sensitive ear that 
 
172 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 hope is stirring in Ophelia's breast, but Hamlet's 
 next words paralyze it forever : 
 
 You should not have believed me ; [I myself hardly believe 
 it. I doubt everything. I doubt you, and love that doubts is 
 not true love. I doubt if I have the virtue of constancy, my 
 mother-did not have it. I incline to be virtuous, but am not 
 sure I shall continue so,] for virtue can not so inoculate our 
 old stock but we shall relish of it : [i.e., of our old stock] I loved 
 you not. 
 
 With gentle submission to the inevitable, Ophelia 
 
 answers : 
 
 I was the more deceived. 
 
 Poor child ! Hamlet has disarranged her rela- 
 tions to the universe : if she is deceived in what her 
 soul was so united to, how can she believe that any- 
 less essential thing is what it seems ? Hamlet's ten- 
 derness tries to make Ophelia understand that union 
 with him is not desirable, at the same time that his 
 jealous love seeks to separate her from all other 
 
 men. 
 
 Get thee to a nunnery : 
 
 he says. This does not seem to him a cruel sen- 
 tence ; he has not found the world so lovely that 
 he wants to linger in it ; a nunnery to him means 
 safety and peace, and he counsels Ophelia : 
 
 Get thee to a nunnery : [where thou wilt be the bride of 
 heaven alone. Marry no one] why wouldst thou be a breeder 
 of sinners ? I am myself indifferent honest ; but yet I could 
 accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had 
 not borne me : I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with 
 more offenses at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, 
 imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in, What 
 should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven.' 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 173 
 
 [Do not desire to be the mother of others like me.] We are 
 arrant knaves, all ; believe none of us. Co thy ways to a nun- 
 nery. 
 
 Then, suddenly remembering that believing him 
 to be an arrant knave, Polonius has removed Ophe- 
 lia from his society, he perceives that, ignoring his 
 rudeness of the day before, she is here, in the royal 
 castle, alone, away from her own house, not in his 
 mother's apartments but in the public lobby where 
 she might expect to meet him whom her father has 
 forbidden her to see. The tender of the presents 
 shows that it was a planned meeting on Ophelia's 
 part ; s^ll her father may be with her, she may have 
 come with him? and Hamlet looks around him for 
 Polonius, and not discovering him he asks: 
 
 Where's your father? 
 
 Not suspecting what his thoughts have been, 
 Ophelia answers, it' may be with a hesitating 
 tongue : 
 
 At home, my lord. 
 
 There is no reason to believe that Hamlet sus- 
 pects this to be a lie; his reply does not show it ; 
 it discloses only his feeling toward the man whom 
 he knows to be his uncle's tool, the man who shut 
 Ophelia away from him, — the man who with so 
 little cause thinks him insane : 
 
 Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no 
 where but in's own house. 
 
 But in looking for Polonius, Hamlet has been re- 
 minded that he came to the lobby to meet Claudius, 
 who had " closely " sent for him : instead he has 
 
174 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 found Ophelia, [jle instantly conceives, what is the 
 truth, that collusion between the king and Ophelia 
 has brought her hither. Her answer : 
 
 At home, my lord. 
 
 shows him, as he supposes, that Ophelia is capable, 
 on Claudius's suggestion, of deceiving her father and 
 disobeying him, of coming unattended and alone to 
 the castle for the ostensible purpose of returning gifts 
 that she could at any time return by messenger, but 
 really with the design to wring from him a new ex- 
 pression of his love. This answer, as indicating 
 Ophelia's duplicity, and her understanding with Clau- 
 dius, gives to his vigilant jealousy the testimony 
 he has so long been seeking. She is not honest ! 
 She will prove untrue ! He has at last received the 
 proof that his mind sought yet dreaded to admit. 
 In a sudden paroxysm of grief and despair he breaks 
 away, saying only : 
 
 Farewell ! 
 Ophelia's prayer : 
 
 O, help him, yon sweet heavens ! 
 
 enrages him, and he turns and exhibits the involun- 
 tary disorder of. his soul. How dare she, who has 
 brought him to this misery, appeal in his behalf to 
 heaven ! Can she not see that though he may seem 
 mad to others he is not so in fact, but is driven to 
 his conduct in great part by her weakness and lack 
 of principle? Unhappy Hamlet ! he is nearer loss 
 of reason now than ever before ; he is alienated from 
 his nobler self. His rage breaks its bounds, he can 
 not control the tumult of his thoughts, and no longer 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 175 
 
 restrained by the hope that Ophelia may be abso- 
 lutely upright, he overwhelms her with the waters 
 of his indignation : 
 
 If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry : 
 be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape 
 calumny, [thou hast that within thy blood which must expose 
 thee to it.] Get thee to a nunnery, go : farewell. Or, if thou 
 wilt needs marry, marry a fool ; for wise men [men as wise as 
 I] know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a 
 nunnery, go, and quickly too. Farewell. 
 
 Ophelia, believing herself in the presence of a 
 madman, excuses and compassionates him, and prays 
 again : 
 
 O heavenly powers, restore him ! 
 
 and Hamlet turns once more, partly in self-justifica- 
 tion : 
 
 I have heard of your paintings too, well enough ; God has 
 given you one face, and you make yourselves another : you jig, 
 you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and 
 make your wantonness your ignorance. (z>., you dance affect- 
 edly, you walk carelessly, you^speak indistinctly and with affec- 
 tation, and you give foolish names to God's creatures, and 
 make your negligence of restraint appear to come from ignor- 
 ance : these are the wiles and snares by which you worthless 
 women entrap honest men and delude them into marriage with 
 you.) Go to, I'll no more on't ; it hath made me mad. I say, 
 we will have no more marriages : those that are married already, 
 all but one, shall live ; the rest shall keep as they are. To a 
 nunnery go. 
 
 This statement to Ophelia, // hath made me mad, 
 is only the exaggeration of a lover who feels how 
 much of his misery arises from the misconduct of 
 his mistress. It has been echoed by hundreds of 
 
176 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 lovers, before and since, without exciting a doubt 
 as to their absolute sanity. Hamlet's meaning is : 
 
 [This conflict in my soul, which you believe is madness, does 
 not arise from your repulse of my love but from the constitu- 
 tional duplicity of womankind : my mother's exhibition of it has 
 enlightened me, and I see in you the potentiahty of all that ex- 
 ists in her.J I'll no more on't. // hath made me mad. I say 
 we'll have no more marriages. 
 
 As Hamlet leaves Ophelia after this scathing de- 
 nunciation, she forgets that Iier father and the king 
 have listened to it, she only mourns over the de- 
 thronement of her lover's reason and her own con- 
 sequent unhappiness. She agrees with Hamlet's 
 general strictures on womankind, but thinks that 
 nothing but mental alienation could have licensed 
 him to express them. She says : 
 
 O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ! 
 
 The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword ; 
 
 The expectancy and rose of the fair state. 
 
 The glass of fashion and the mould of form. 
 
 The observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down ! 
 
 And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, 
 
 That suck'd the honey of his music vows. 
 
 Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, 
 
 Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; 
 
 That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth 
 
 Blasted with ecstasy : O, woe is me. 
 
 To have seen what I have seen, see what I see ! 
 
 Except her troubled exclamations at the play, these 
 are the last words we hear Ophelia speak until 
 madness has deprived her utterances of their true 
 value, and they live in our memories and echo in 
 our ears when we next see her seeking the " beau- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 177 
 
 teous majesty of Denmark?" When Polonius and 
 the king enter from their retirement, even Polonius's 
 mercenary heart is touched by Ophelia's grief. He 
 allows her unnoticed to indulge it, while Claudius 
 says: 
 
 Love ! his affections do not that way tend ; 
 
 Nor what he spake, though it lacl<'d form a little. 
 
 Was not like madness. 
 
 Why will not critics accept these words as evi- 
 dence ? Why will they insist that Hamlet either 
 was mad, or counterfeited madness to alienate 
 Ophelia and reconcile her to a separation from him? 
 Claudius says " what he spake was not like mad- 
 ness." Ophelia believed it was, but the belief had 
 been suggested to her, and her self-respect could 
 provide no other interpretation of Hamlet's harsh 
 words. Claudius, whose guilt made him clear- 
 sighted, and we, who know so much more than he, 
 know that disgu st with womankind in general, and 
 Gertrude and Ophelia in particular, was the in spira- 
 tion for Hamlet's words. 
 
 It may be objected that in the foregoing conver- 
 sation I have inserted much more than there is any 
 justification for. But " Shakespeare wrote to be 
 acted and not to be read." In the acting are in- 
 cluded pauses that are only indicated in the text, 
 but which are often more eloquent than words. 
 Warburton said : " This wonderful man had an art, 
 not only of acquainting. his audience with what his 
 actors say, but with what they think." The pauses 
 in which Hamlet pursues his distracted thoughts 
 
178 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 are filled with meaning for the thoughtful hearer, 
 and the interpretation of these pauses both here and 
 elsewhere may be, and I believe is, that which I have 
 given them. 
 
 While hiding, Claudius had heard Hamlet's 
 threat, " all but one shall live." He realizes that 
 this was aimed at him, and his determination is 
 straightway taken to send his nephew into Eng- 
 land, or maybe he already decides to send him 
 on a longer journey. Whatever his intention, he 
 tells Polonius that he means the prince shall at once 
 be sent to England, in the hope that change of air 
 may benefit him. Polonius fears the result of separ- 
 ating Hamlet and Ophelia, he can not renounce the 
 hope that Hamlet's " grief sprung from neglected 
 love;" therefote, knowing Hamlet's affection for the 
 queen, and hers for him, remembering that she has 
 never assented when her son is pronounced mad, 
 believing that she may be the confidante of the 
 prince, he suggests that after the play that night, 
 when it might be supposed Hamlet and his mother 
 could meet and speak with no fear of being over- 
 heard, the queen shall send for Hamlet and " all 
 alone entreat him to show his grief." His idea is 
 to hide and listen to their conference, hoping that 
 Hamlet will proclaim his love for Ophelia. Clau- 
 dius, whose crimes make him suspicious of even his 
 nearest and dearest, assents to this scheme, and 
 afterward induces Gertrude to perform her neces- 
 sary part in it. The fact -that Claudius is willing 
 that Polonius shall hear Hamlet's private confes- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 179 
 
 sion to his mother, helps us to determine the extent 
 of the councilor's complicity in his master's crimes. 
 Guilty as the king knew himself to be, and fearful 
 that Hamlet had some knowledge, or at least a 
 strong suspicion, of his guilt, he would have with- 
 held the lord chamberlain from the private confer- 
 ence of the prince and Gertrude, if Polonius had not 
 already known all that Claudius feared might there 
 be revealed. In this case too we have to divine the 
 thoughts of the actors. Neither Claudius nor Pol- 
 onius utters them, but we see what the former fears, 
 and we appreciate the service that Polonius will 
 render him, when he repeats the revelation Hamlet 
 makes. Polonius is completely the tool of Claudius 
 when he is needed for any dirty work, and he, in 
 turn, uses his sovereign for his purposes. Each 
 understands and has taken the measure of the 
 other, and Polonius presumes on his knowledge 
 of Claudius's depraved nature when he invites 
 him to become an eavesdropper, and asks for 
 a commission to listen in the closet of the 
 queen. 
 
 The report of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, the 
 interview of Hamlet and Ophelia, and the conversa- 
 tion between Claudius and the old councilor, each 
 succeeded the other early in the day. No other 
 action is represented until the evening. We know 
 that Hamlet has finally renounced Ophelia, and we 
 recognize that the result of the mock-play, if he 
 present it, will assure him that he has not erred in 
 his condemnation of his mother and of the king. 
 
i8o HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 We do not know what his decision will be — he 
 interrupted himself in the consideration of the sub- 
 ject — but his line of reasoning would naturally 
 conduct him to a determination to apply the touch- 
 stone. We believe that he will put the matter to 
 the test, in the way he had devised, and this belief 
 is confirmed on his next appearance. 
 
XVII. 
 
 ' When we next see Hamlet, he enters a hall in 
 the castle — probably the apartment in which we saw 
 him first — in company with the players, and con- 
 tinues the instructions he had already given the 
 First Player about the inserted speech, thus inform- 
 ing the audience that the play is to be. His words 
 do not show any agitation, or incoherence, he ex- 
 hibits no undue haste, but, with his nerves perfectly 
 under control, he gives the players a lesson in the 
 art of elocution. As he dismisses them Polonius 
 enters, with Guildenstern and Rosencrantz, to tell 
 him that the king and queen are ready to hear the 
 play ; he sends the three to hasten the preparations 
 of the players, and thus secures a means to speak 
 without auditors to Horatio, to whom he had al- 
 ready told the circumstances of his father's death, 
 but not, I am sure, his suspicions about his mother. 
 After justifying the demand he is about to make, 
 by assuring Horatio that he wears him in his heart 
 of hearts and dearly loves him, he asks of his recip- 
 rocal friendship a favor. He says : 
 
 There is a play to-night before the king- ; 
 One scene of it comes near the circumstance 
 Which I have told thee of my father's death : 
 I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, 
 i8i 
 
i82 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Even with the very comment of thy soul 
 
 Observe mine uncle : if his occulted guilt 
 
 Do not itself unkennel in one speech. 
 
 It is a damned ghost that we have seen, 
 
 And my imaginations are as foul 
 
 As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note ; 
 
 For I mine eyes will rivet to his face. 
 
 And after we will both our judgements join 
 
 In censure of his seeming. 
 
 Horatio, who is not so absolute a believer in the re- 
 liability of the ghost, falls in with Hamlet's humor, 
 and says : 
 
 Well, my lord : 
 If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, 
 And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. 
 
 The Danish march is heard, and Hamlet says : 
 
 They are coming to the play ; I must be idle : 
 Get you a place. 
 
 The king and queen, Polonius and Ophelia, Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern, these and many more, en- 
 ter and take their places to see the play. Claudius 
 greets Hamlet with treacherous cordiality, but Ham- 
 let disdains to feign friendliness, and the report of 
 his insanity furnishes him with a most effectual 
 means to disguise his feelings. Not against the king, 
 however ; the king knows that Hamlet is not mad, 
 and the insolence of his answer stings him, but he 
 turns it aside, appearing not to see its pertinence. 
 Hamlet next salutes Polonius. It is his part now to 
 cultivate the belief in his madness ; he sees that it 
 may be useful to him so soon as the story of the 
 ghost is confirmed. Hamlet turns to Polonius, and. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 183 
 
 as usual, begins to use him for his mirth, but inter- 
 rupts himself to ask : 
 
 Be the players ready ? 
 
 Rosencrantz replies : 
 
 Ay, my lord ; they stay upon your patience. 
 
 Gertrude then speaks to Hamlet. She knows the 
 others consider him insane, for in a court such 
 news flies swiftly; he is not courted as when his 
 father was alive ; his reply to the king a moment 
 before showed that he is still unreconciled to the 
 loss of his kingdom, and her mother's heart speaks 
 for him, and tells her to rehabilitate him, at least 
 in the consideration of the courtiers. She says: 
 
 Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. 
 but Hamlet answers : 
 
 No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. 
 
 Think how this speech must wring Ophelia's heart. 
 She has had time to realize that Hamlet has 
 spurned her and abused her, in the hearing of the 
 king and of her father ; she has recalled the bitter 
 words he used, and she fears his madness may allow 
 him now to flout her, in the face of all the court. 
 She does not hope this honeyed speech may be an 
 indication of returning love — her hope is dead — 
 and when Hamlet asks : 
 
 Lady, shall I lie in your lap ? 
 she says : 
 
 No, my lord. 
 
 Even were she not possessed by the feeling of out- 
 raged modesty, she would prefer that he should 
 
i84 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 place himself at a greater distance ; self-control will 
 be hard enough under any circumstances, but close 
 proximity to her lost lover is almost unendurable. 
 Hamlet, however, disregards this feeling, and says : 
 
 I mean, my head upon your lap ? 
 and Ophelia replies quickly : 
 
 Ay, my lord. [I know what your meaning was.] 
 
 but Hamlet wilfully misunderstands this answer, 
 and, taking it for an assent to his request, he lies 
 down at her feet, and begins the conversation which 
 we hear, though king and court do not, as it is 
 spoken with Ophelia apart. To them he wishes still 
 to seem the lover of the maiden ; he thinks the king 
 believes he loves her, and he delights to deceive 
 Claudius and old Polonius. For the audience, 
 although Hamlet has made choice of his seat with 
 flattering words, they know he did not mean- them, 
 and they hear his conversation with Ophelia, which 
 indicates the extreme of familiar contemptuousness 
 and disrespect. I wish that Hamlet had not thus 
 abused her, and I thank our modern Hamlets that 
 they do not now compel us to listen to the repeti- 
 tion of this coarseness on the stage. It is a blot 
 on Hamlet's fair escutcheon. Ophelia tries to 
 make him speak only of the play, but nothing can 
 screen her from his dreadful witticisms. Had she 
 not believed him mad, and not responsible for his 
 wild words, she might have gone to Gertrude for 
 protection, but her love forgave him every blow he 
 dealt her, for she thought it was his madness 
 prompted them. We can not excuse Hamlet as 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 185 
 
 she did; the only palliation of his fault is this: he 
 intended to make Ophelia fully comprehend that 
 his conversation with her in the morning was not 
 the ravings of frenzy only: he meant so to talk to 
 her that she should become disgusted, and want to 
 separate herself from him. He insulted her at 
 every opportunity, but his own words to the queen 
 after the play, he might as fitly have used now: " I 
 must be cruel only to be kind." While his abuse 
 really manifested his opinion of Ophelia, it was 
 regard for her that made him express, instead of 
 concealing it. He hoped she would excuse it from 
 her belief in his madness, but he desired to make 
 her think that madness only revealed his true 
 nature. He manifested incoherence purposely in 
 his conversation with her, so that she might finally 
 have the refuge of this belief. He wanted, if pos- 
 sible, to alienate her affection from him in order to 
 save her from suffering under the separation his 
 self-respect had decreed. 
 
 The mock-play goes on. The dumb show pre- 
 ceding it alarms the king, but he controls himself, 
 only asking Hamlet, when the hnes become very 
 pertinent : 
 
 Have you heard the argument ? Is there no offence in't ? 
 Finally the crucial moment arrives. Hamlet's im- 
 patience compels him to cry out : 
 
 Begin, murderer ; pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. 
 then, fearing this confession of deep interest may 
 excite surprise, he adds : 
 
 Come : ' the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' 
 
i86 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 He hopes by this ranting garbled quotation from 
 the old play of Richard the Third, to make his 
 whole outcry seem a piece of unmeaning bombast. 
 There is yet a possibility that his uncle is innocent, 
 and, in that case, there is no reason why Hamlet 
 should feel any undue agitation at the death of a 
 king, killed by poison while sleeping in a garden ; 
 therefore he controls himself, and listens while Lu- 
 cianus repeats his invocation, before pouring the 
 poison into the sleeper's ears. Then, with his eyes 
 riveted to the king's face, speaking loud enough 
 for Claudius to hear, by a mighty effort he calmly 
 continues, to Ophelia, his former exposition of the 
 play: 
 
 He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His name's Gon- 
 zago : the story is extant, and writ in choice Italian : you shall 
 see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. 
 
 I am sure that in speaking these words Hamlet 
 showed his agitation only by his clenched hands 
 and fixed eyes. He continued to gaze on Claudius, 
 who slowly rose, as Lucianus's guarded motions 
 renewed before him the particulars of his crime, 
 and, even when the king was fully on his feet, 
 paralyzed by the fear that his crime was discovered, 
 Hamlet still continued to gaze upon him, waiting for 
 some word of confession. It is Ophelia who first, 
 after Hamlet, notices the king's agitation ; all the 
 others are so intent on the slow approaches and 
 cautious movements of the player, that they do not 
 observe the disquietude of their sovereign. Ophe- 
 lia's wondering exclamation : 
 
 The king rises. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 187 
 
 startles Hamlet from the intentness of his observa- 
 tion, and his sensation of triumph at having finally- 
 confirmed the story of the ghost expresses itself in 
 the almost exultant cry : 
 
 What, frighted with false fire ! 
 
 That cry proclaims war to the knife between the 
 king and Hamlet, but the play, without it, would 
 have done so, and he is now prepared to meet the 
 issue. He knows the apparition was his father's 
 spirit, and at last he feels ready, at any cost, to obey 
 its dread command. Nothing he can now say to his 
 mother, nothing he can do to his uncle will be more 
 than they deserve. 
 
XVIII. 
 
 The courtiers go out with the king ; and Hamlet, 
 left alone with Horatio, turns to him, and, in some 
 rhymed lines, that are intended to seem a part of 
 some old ballad recalled by the running away of all 
 the others, gives a partial vent to his so long con- 
 trolled excitement. Now, as after the revelation of 
 the ghost, Hamlet can not express himself in meas- 
 ured words. He, and Horatio, both, are in such a 
 state of exaltation that they can not instantly de- 
 scend to sober consultation. Hamlet seems to 
 ignore the ultimate result of the lines inserted in 
 the mock-play, and asks only if he has not proved 
 his qualification for " a fellowship in a cry of play- 
 ers." Again he quotes a foolish rhyme, which gives 
 Horatio a chance to make a pointed allusion to 
 Claudius, and thus bring the subject they must next 
 consider immediately before them. Hamlet then 
 shudderingly says : 
 
 O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand 
 pound. Didst perceive .' 
 
 and Horatio, the balance-wheel, more calmly re- 
 plies : 
 
 Very well, my lord. 
 
 Upon the talk of the poisoning? 
 
 continues the poor prince ; and Horatio gently in- 
 terrupts him, saying : 
 
 I did very well note him. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 189 
 
 Thus far the conversation is a not unnatural expres- 
 sion of the feelings possessing both Horatio and 
 Hamlet, but the succeeding words seem to disclose 
 more than this ; they seem inexplicable on any 
 other theory than absolute loss of reason in Hamlet. 
 ' It does not seem that a sane man would start away 
 from a serious and confidential conversation with 
 his bosom friend, and suddenly exclaim : 
 
 Ah, ha! Come, some music ! come, the recorders! 
 For if the king like not the comedy, 
 Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. 
 
 Come, some music ! 
 
 yet this Hamlet does, and thus he furnishes to the 
 advocates of the theory of his madness their strong- 
 est argument against his sanity. How can we, who 
 know that he was always sane, explain these " wild 
 and whirling words.''" The Folio and the First 
 Quarto explain them for us. In them both, Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern are represented as entering 
 while Hamlet is speaking to Horatio, and before he 
 says, "Ah ha! Come, some music." If we recall 
 the conversation the prince held with his two school- 
 fellows when Polonius's entrance cut short their 
 talk about his madness, we shall remember that, as 
 Polonius appeared, Hamlet said aloud, and meaning 
 the old man should hear him, although his speech 
 had no connection with anything he had said 
 before : 
 
 " You say right, sir : o' Monday morning ; 'twas so indeed." 
 
 This case is a parallel to that. Hamlet is talking to 
 Horatio on a subject he can discuss with him only ; 
 
ipo THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 he sees the entrance of Rosencrantz and Guilden- 
 stern, and pretending that his speech with Horatio 
 is of no importance, he breaks off, as if the subject 
 was an indifferent one, and calls for music ; then, 
 fearing they may have heard some of his last words, 
 he boldly introduces his uncle's name in the care- 
 less rhyme : 
 
 For if the king like not the comedy, 
 
 [comedy he calls it !] 
 
 Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. 
 
 It is very easy to see how the stage direction, 
 Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterne, has shifted from 
 its proper place, (mistakes in the placing of the 
 stage directions is the most frequent fault made by 
 the old editors, and by modern ones) but it is dif- 
 ficult to realize that it is not now restored. The 
 early editors, those preceding 1770, seem to have 
 placed it where it should be, but in all modern edi- 
 tions I have consulted it is dislocated. In the First 
 Quarto the lines read : 
 
 Hor.* I Horatio, i'le take the Ghofts word 
 
 For more than all the coyne in Denmarke. 
 Enter Roffencraft and Gilderftone. 
 Roff. Now my lord, how if't with you ? 
 Ham. And if the king like not the tragedy. 
 
 Why then behke he likes it not perdy. 
 Roff. We are very glad to fee your grace fo pleasant. 
 My good lord, let vs againe intreate 
 To know of you the ground and caufe of your distem- 
 perature. 
 
 *Hor. is evidently a mistake, for Hamlet addresses Horatio. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 191 
 
 The Second Quarto reads as our modern edi- 
 tions do : 
 
 Ham. Vpon the talke of the poyfning. 
 
 Hor. I did very well note him. 
 
 Ham. Ah ha, come fome mufique, come the Recorders, 
 
 For if theKing like not the Comedie, 
 
 Why then belike he likes it not perdy. 
 Come, fome mufique. 
 
 Enter Rofencraus and Guyldensterne. 
 Guyl. Good my Lord, voutfafe me a word with you. 
 
 The Folio says : 
 
 Ham. Upon the talke of the poysoning ? 
 Hora. I did verie well note him. 
 
 Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterne. 
 Ham. Oh, ha ? Come some Musicke. Come y* Recorders : 
 
 For if the King hke not the Comedie, 
 
 Why then beHke he likes it not perdie. 
 
 Come some Musicke. 
 Guild. Good my Lord, vouchfafe me a word with you. 
 
 These are the three authorities from which our 
 modern editions are made up : two agree in making 
 the entrance of the two spies precede Hamlet's 
 sudden call for music, and his rhyme about the king. 
 The Folio, which is assumed to present the play in 
 its most perfect form, makes the entrance of the 
 spies precede the call for music, and prints the 
 words "Oh, ha?" with an interrogation point, as 
 much as to say, ' Oh, you are there, are you ? ' and 
 then follow the words, " Come, some music." I think 
 this is the reading we ought to adopt. Hamlet's 
 call for music, and his abrupt breaking away from a 
 serious conversation without apparent cause, has 
 
192 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 been a stumbling-block that the believers in his 
 sanity have found it impossible to remove : they 
 knew that he was sane, and they have stuck to that, 
 though unable to explain away what looked like 
 madness. This reading furnishes the explanation 
 of these words in this place, and the introduction of 
 a like irrelevant speech in the conversation with 
 Polonius, the day before, furnishes the precedent for 
 them. 
 
 The "spaniels," as Marshall calls them, though he 
 thus dishonors a most honest dog, have come to 
 summon Hamlet to his mother's closet. They have 
 not yet been at court two days, but they have 
 plainly seen already that Hamlet's star is a descend- 
 ing one ; they have in this short time advanced 
 from the position of school-fellow and friend to 
 that of guardian, and they now appear as mentors, 
 ready to tutor Hamlet for his late disrespect to the 
 king and queen ; transcending their ofifice, which 
 was only to summon him to his mother's presence. 
 His sarcastic, ironical answers to their impertinent 
 remarks disconcert them, and almost touch their 
 hearts; they at least remind Rosencrantz that Ham- 
 let has a heart, and, to entrap his friend he appeals 
 to it, saying : 
 
 My lord, you once did love me. 
 
 Hamlet's reply is exactly what the spies deserve : 
 
 So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. 
 
 The first part of the answer — so I do still — dis- 
 arms their anxiety by asserting that his love still 
 cherishes them ; and the end, with its adjuration, 
 
 y^ 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 193 
 
 not " by this hand " which Hamlet honors, but 
 " by these pickers and stealers " — the insignia of a 
 thief — again arouses it. The union of earnestness 
 and mockery so distorts the answer that its hearers 
 are disconcerted by it, and are compelled to let the 
 subject pass, and finally to proclaim their office by 
 asking : 
 
 Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper.' you do, 
 surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your 
 griefs to your friend. 
 
 This is a threat, but Hamlet does not instantly 
 resent it ; he seems to answer Rosencrantz with the 
 grave words : 
 
 Sir, I lack advancement. 
 
 Guildenstern had withdrawn from the conversa- 
 tion in anger, when Hamlet, with such mock 
 earnestness, ironically asserted, " my wit's dis- 
 eased," but, when the recorders were brought in 
 he drew near to the prince again. Just what his 
 intention was we can not tell, but Hamlet, resent- 
 ing his sullen exhibition of disrespect and ill-tem- 
 per, carried the war at once into Africa, and rebuked 
 him for pressing so close upon him. Guildenstern, 
 surprised by the attack, tried to evade it by a 
 counter complaint — a whine : 
 O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly. 
 
 meaning, ' as my duty, in your opinion, made me 
 too bold, so you now think my love, which led me 
 to come near to you, is too unmannerly. You did 
 not treat me kindly when I tried to do my duty and 
 deliver your mother's message, and you are again 
 
194 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 displeased because my love led ihe to approach 
 your side too closely.' Hamlet disdains to answer 
 to this accusation, and puts it aside with gentleness 
 and self-control ; and then, urging his two keepers 
 to play upon the pipe, he discovers, even to their 
 jaundiced minds, how unworthy they must seem to 
 every honest man. In all this interview Hamlet 
 exhibits perfect self-control, a quick and biting wit, 
 an honesty of purpose that will not disguise itself 
 in lies, and a scathing sarcasm that scorches every 
 spot it touches. The exaltation of his spirits con- 
 tinues through it all ; every sense seems sharper 
 and more active than ever before ; and, when Pol- 
 onius enters, impatient because the two friends 
 have stayed so long, Hamlet greets him with a 
 quick, " God bless you, sir ! " and, as soon as he has 
 discharged himself of his message, begins to turn 
 him into ridicule ; partly for the gratification of his 
 own feeling against him, and partly to show the 
 audience how thorough a courtier the old chamber- 
 lain is. Polonius would not for the world displease 
 his son-in-law, the crown prince—before he has se- 
 cured him — and he agrees with each vagary of 
 Hamlet's vision, seeing first a camel, then a weasel, 
 then a whale, where Hamlet points them out upon 
 the canvas of the sky. Having convinced himself 
 that Polonius will lie to humor him, Hamlet indi- 
 cates to the audience that this was his intent 
 in pretending to see these cloud-monsters. He 
 says : 
 
 They fool me to the top of my bent. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 195 
 
 and then, resuming his native dignity, he dismisses 
 the chamberlain by a repetition of the answer he 
 had already given him : 
 
 I will come by and by. 
 
 Turning then to the players who had brought in 
 the recorders, and to Horatio, ignoring the two 
 spies, he quietly says : 
 
 Leave me, friends. 
 
 and all, passing out, leave him at last alone. His 
 spirits are falling; a grim determination takes the 
 place of his late elation, and his only desire is to 
 make, or seize, an opportunity to kill the king. He 
 wonders that his father's spirit does not again ap- 
 pear to urge him to the vengeance which he now 
 believes is so well deserved, but he knows that the 
 certainty of his uncle's guilt has banished com- 
 punction from his mind forever. He says : 
 
 'Tis now the very witching time of night, 
 
 When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out 
 
 Contagion to this world : now could I drink hot blood, 
 
 And do such bitter business as the day 
 
 Would quake to look on. Soft ! Now to my mother. 
 
 heart, lose not thy nature ; let not ever 
 The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom : 
 Let me be cruel, not unnatural : 
 
 1 will speak daggers to her, but use none ; 
 My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites ; 
 How in my words soever she be shent. 
 
 To give them seals never, my soul, consent ! 
 
XIX. 
 
 Until now Hamlet has avoided the queen. His 
 love, and his contempt, his natural reverence for his 
 mother, and his obligation to his father, have so dis- 
 tressed him while he was undetermined whether the 
 ghost spoke truth, that he could not decide on any- 
 bearing toward her that would not either express a 
 lie, or else reveal his doubts of her purity. Now 
 his way is clear. She is an erring woman, and his 
 first duty, to his father and to her, is to replace her 
 feet in the path of virtue. He goes to the interview 
 with his mother feeling that the blessing of Heaven 
 accompanies him, and that he has received his com- 
 mission not only from his earthly father, but from 
 his Heavenly one ; no doubt or fear assails him ; he 
 goes believing her more guilty than she really is, 
 thinking she had assented to the murder of his 
 father. In the First Quarto it is made clear that 
 this was not the case, though from the Folio we can 
 only infer her innocence. 
 
 While Hamlet is going from the hall in which the 
 play was acted to his mother's apartments, we see 
 Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who have returned 
 to the king. Claudius has recovered his self-control, 
 and has elaborated his scheme for self-protection : 
 he intends to send Hamlet at once to England in 
 charge of his two school-fellows, who shall bear a 
 
 196 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 197 
 
 mandate from Denmark to England, desiring Ham- 
 let's instant murder the moment he arrives in the 
 island. He bids Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to 
 prepare immediately for the voyage, and they has- 
 ten from his presence to arm themselves for it. As 
 I have said before, Shakespeare leaves us in doubt 
 vsrhether or not the two friends knew the contents 
 of the letter they were to bear. I incline to think 
 they did not know them, and Horatio's impartial 
 mind seems to have held the same opinion. When 
 Hamlet, later, tells him how he had changed the 
 packets and sent his school-fellows to their death, 
 Horatio says, with a touch of deprecating sadness : 
 
 So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to 't, 
 
 and Hamlet strives to reassure him and justify him- 
 self by saying: 
 
 Why, man, they did make love to this employment. 
 
 I think they did not know the contents of the 
 packet, else would they not have delivered the com- 
 mission after Hamlet had escaped from them ; but 
 I believe that had Claudius exposed his plan to 
 them (which he was much too cautious to do), and 
 given them his reasons for it, they would still b&ve 
 been the willing instruments of his villainy. They 
 really were convinced that Hamlet was mad, and 
 believed as Rosencrantz said, that, 
 
 The single and peculiar life is bound. 
 With all the strength and armour of the mind, 
 To keep itself from noyance ; but much more 
 That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest 
 The lives of many. 
 
198 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 As the two sycophants leave Claudius to prepare 
 themselves for the voyage, Polonius enters, and, 
 after telling the king that Hamlet is going to his 
 mother's closet, he also goes to hide and listen to 
 their conversation. 
 
 When Polonius departs the king is at last at lib- 
 erty to throw aside the mask of comparative in- 
 difference he has so bravely worn, and, to our 
 surprise, we see that it does not cover a nature 
 entirely callous. Claudius's conscience is awake to 
 the knowledge that he owes a heavy debt to the 
 King of kings. The simulated murder in the mock- 
 play has recalled all the particulars of his own 
 guilt, and he sees his crime in the light in which it 
 must be viewed by God and man. No fear of 
 earthly punishment distresses him, he feels that he 
 is strong enough to cope with all the powers of 
 earth ; but conscience makes a coward of him, and 
 the dread of something after death — the inevit- 
 able retribution of a just God — cows his imperial 
 spirit. 
 
 He knows the way that he must take to restore 
 himself to amity with heaven, but it is a strait 
 and narrow one, through which he can carry no 
 ravished kingdom, no adulterous queen, and these 
 he is not ready to resign. He knows he is not 
 ready to repent — repentance entails restoration — 
 but this man's wicked nature is so strong, and has 
 so long controlled the forces surrounding him, that 
 he now attempts to juggle with his Maker and his 
 own conscience. He kneels to pray for mercy, hav- 
 ing first determined not to pay the price exacted for 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 199 
 
 it ; hoping some royal road to heaven may yet be 
 found for him ; hoping that even without repent- 
 ance " All may be well." 
 
 While Claudius is on his knees apparently lost in 
 supplication, Hamlet passes through the apartment 
 to reach his mother's. He perceives the king, as he 
 supposes, rapt in prayer, and his first impulse is to 
 kill him there, while he is unconscious of his justly 
 merited doom. He rushes toward him drawing his 
 sword, but the swift thought that his uncle is in 
 communion with heaven, and that a sudden death 
 might only make that communion more intimate 
 and perfect, stays his hand. 
 
 It is not doubt or cowardice that now withholds 
 Hamlet, else could he not have killed Polonius sup- 
 posing him to be the king hidden behind the arras. 
 His former fear has chiefly been that by killing him 
 he might commit injustice, but he is at last assured 
 that his uncle deserves death. This thought re- 
 strains him— that Claudius might escape damnation 
 if despatched while his soul, the immortal part of 
 him, is united in prayer with its Maker. 
 
 It has been objected that Shakespeare here 
 makes Hamlet too bloodthirsty : critics contend 
 that it is more than a legitimate revenge that would 
 destroy both soul and body ; but Hamlet did not 
 think so. He had too long thought of the ghost as 
 sometimes the devil himself, sometimes his father's 
 suffering spirit, to be willing that Claudius should 
 escape one tittle of the punishment to which his 
 father had been sent. Besides, Shakespeare found 
 the precedent for this " fiendishness," as Dr. John- 
 
200 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 son thought it, on page 303 of the old Hystorie, in 
 these words of Hamlet : 
 
 And reason requireth, that euen as trayterously 
 they then caused their prince to bee put to death, 
 that with the like (nay well much more) iustice 
 they should pay the interest of their fellonious 
 actions. 
 
 You knov; (Madame) how Hother your grand- 
 father, and father to the good King Roderick, 
 hauing vanquished Guimon, caused him to be 
 burnt, for that the cruel vilain had done the like to 
 his lord Geuare, whom he betrayed in the night 
 time. 
 
 and on p. 317 he says, just after he has killed the 
 wicked king : 
 
 now go thy wayes, and when thou commest in hell, 
 see that thou forget not to tell thy brother (whom 
 thou trayterously slewest) that (it was his sonne 
 that sent thee thither with the message. 
 
 Hamlet was not even willing to give his uncle 
 a grave ; he advised the Danes : 
 
 burne his abhominable body, boyle his lasciuious 
 members, and cast the ashes of him that hath beene 
 hurtfuU to all the world, into the ayre. 
 
 This is the state of mind Shakespeare bestows on 
 our young Hamlet, who knew his father had been 
 sent to hell, and was unwilling to allow his mur- 
 derer a chance to go to heaven. 
 
 In the Hystorie, on page 287, is also found the ex- 
 planation of some other of his words on this occa- 
 sion ; words which, critics say, and rightly too, are not 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 201 
 
 justified by anything in the play. While Hamlet 
 is contemplating his uncle he says : 
 
 He took my father grossly full of bread. 
 This information was derived, not from the ghost, nor 
 from the First Quarto. The First Quarto says: 
 
 He tooke my father fleeping. 
 Shakespeare, when he re-wrote the play, found the 
 statement in the following lines of the old novel : 
 
 But Fengon, . . .Horuendile, his brother being at a 
 banquet with his friends, sodainely set vpon him, 
 where he slewe him, etc. 
 
 Must we not admit that the influence of the Hys- 
 torie on this Tragedy has too contemptuously been 
 set aside ? 
 
 Hamlet does spare his uncle when he finds him 
 on his knees in prayer, and critics find in this delay 
 only another justification of their assertion that 
 irresolution and inability to act controlled him. 
 Let us suppose that he had killed the king then, 
 what would have been the result ? Hamlet would 
 have been seized, the indications of his madness 
 would all have been produced against him, and he 
 would have been confined in Bedlam, if he had suc- 
 ceeded in escaping instant death. This would have 
 been the immediate result ; another would have 
 been that which Hamlet's fears had foreseen as soon 
 as he received the revelation. Gertrude, being un- 
 convinced that the king was a murderer, would 
 have believed her son insane, and would have 
 mourned Claudius as his innocent victim. Claudius's 
 death would be useless to secure the repose of the 
 
202 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 ghost, or to effect the fulfilling of his command — 
 Gertrude would still be united in heart to her sedu- 
 cer. But this would not have been represented for 
 us : we know it would ensue, but the play would end 
 with Hamlet's removal ; there would no longer ex- 
 ist material to continue it. Let us be thankful then 
 that Hamlet withheld his hand, even though the 
 reason he advanced for doing so was a heathenish 
 one: we should condemn him still more had any 
 fear for his own ultimate safety influenced him. 
 From the moment the king rises " frighted with 
 false fire," Hamlet is ready and eager to obey the 
 ghost's command ; he is prepared in mind, and 
 body, and in spirit, to kill the king, butkilling him 
 would not fulfill the obligation imposed upon him : 
 he must make Gertrude see the error of her ways, 
 and his first action, after the play, is directed to that 
 end. He allows the king to live until he shall be 
 " about some act that hath no relish of salvation 
 in't," and proceeds to his mother's closet. 
 
XX. 
 
 The fourth scene of the third act discovers Ger- 
 trude and Polonius in conversation. Polonius is 
 urging her to reprove her son sharply, but I think 
 Gertrude did not know that the chamberlain meant 
 to listen to this reproof. It is true that in most of 
 the modern editions he says : 
 
 I'll sconce me even here; 
 
 but there is not, in my opinion, sufificient warrant 
 for this change from the Second Quarto and the 
 Folio. In both of these he says : 
 
 I'll silence me even here. 
 
 It is true that in the First Quarto Polonius di- 
 rectly addresses Gertrude, saying: 
 
 Madame, I heare yong Hamlet comming, 
 I'le fhrowde my felfe behinde the Arras. 
 
 and, in the First Quarto, in the scene in which the 
 plan is first expressed, it is to the queen and not to 
 the king, that he says : 
 
 Madam, fend you in hafte to fpeake with him. 
 
 And I my felfe will ftand behind the Arras, 
 
 There queftion you the caufe of all his griefe. 
 
 And then in loue and nature vnto you, hee'le tell you all : 
 
 My Lord, how thinke you on't ? 
 
 It is on the authority of this knowledge of Ger- 
 trude, expressed in Quarto,, that modern critics 
 
 203 
 
204 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 have changed Polonius's words, but the Folio 
 should be our guide, especially when it agrees with 
 the Second Quarto, which we are absolutely sure 
 was Shakespeare's work, and when we make any 
 change from it we are bound to be consistent. In 
 the Folio and in the Second Quarto, Polonius ad- 
 dresses the king — not Gertrude — when Gertrude 
 is not present, and suggests that he shall be a hid- 
 den witness to the interview between her son and 
 her. Afterward, in a passage that has no parallel 
 in the First Quarto, Polonius attributes to the king 
 the inception of the scheme, saying : 
 
 My lord, he's going to his mother's closet : 
 
 Behind the arras I'll convey myself. 
 
 To hear the process ; I'll warrant she'll tax him home : 
 
 And, as you said, and wisely was it said, 
 
 'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, 
 
 Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear 
 
 The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege : 
 
 I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, 
 
 And tell you what I know. 
 
 The idea which possesses both Claudius and the 
 chamberlain is, that Gertrude, since Nature makes 
 mothers partial, should be spied upon, so that if 
 she does not divulge the subject of Hamlet's con- 
 versation it may yet be known. Shakespeare in- 
 serted this speech and made the change of idea 
 from the First Quarto because the old Hystorie, 
 p. 302, makes Gertrude say : 
 
 Thou seest there is not almost any man wherein 
 thou mayest put thy trust, nor any woman to 
 whom I dare vtter the least part of my secrets, that 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 205 
 
 would not presently report it to thine aduersarie, 
 who, although in outward shew he dissembleth to 
 love thee, the better to injoy his pleasures of me, 
 yet hee distrusteth and feareth mee for thy sake, and 
 is not so simple to be easily perswaded, that thou 
 art a foole or mad. 
 
 Polonius hastens from the king to tell the queen 
 that Hamlet is at hand : he enters Gertrude'^ 
 closet, and hurriedly delivers his advice. She too, 
 is nervous, desiring that Polonius shall not hear 
 any part of her interview with her son, and fearing 
 that Hamlet may come in before he leaves. Her 
 impatience of his presence is so plain that he re- 
 treats saying, not, 
 
 I'll sconce me even here, 
 but, 
 
 I'll silence meeven here; 
 that is ; 
 
 [I have done ; I'll talk no more now.] 
 
 Shakespeare himself made the change from the 
 First to the Second Quarto, and made other 
 changes to accord with it, and it seems to me that 
 when his meaning is so plain he should not be 
 "improved "by anybody. The choice of words, 
 and so of facts, is important because it helps us to 
 judge of Claudius's and of Gertrude's characters. 
 
 If Claudius places Polonius here without the 
 knowledge and consent of Gertrude, it proves that 
 he suspects the queen, and is not absolutely sure 
 even of her affection for him : it proves that " his 
 shameful lust " was one of the tools by which he 
 
2o6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 gratined his unscrupulous ambition. His words to 
 Laertes — 
 
 The queen his mother 
 Lives almost by his looks ; and for myself — 
 My virtue or my plague, be it either which — 
 She's so conjunctive to my life and soul. 
 That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, 
 I could not but by her — 
 
 do not ring true, and all his treatment of Hamlet 
 indicates indifference to the queen's desires. If we 
 know that, distrustful of Gertrude, he allows. Pol- 
 onius to spy upon her and Hamlet, we are pre- 
 pared for the callousness he afterwards exhibits 
 when he plans to kill her son, and calmly sees her 
 quaff the poisoned draught. 
 
 And Gertrude ? There could be no reason why Ger- 
 trude should want Polonius present though unseen. 
 She did not believe her son was mad, and she was 
 not afraid of him. She meant to rebuke Hamlet 
 ,Tor his disrespect in allowing the production of the 
 mock-play, which had publicly censured her for her 
 second marriage, and she feared that her son, now 
 that he had potentially broken his rule of silence, 
 might defend himself, and, to do so, might again 
 express his feelings at her unfaithfulness to his 
 father. For her own sake she naturally was unwill- 
 ing that Polonius should overhear their conversa- 
 tion, but, besides, she would have been a traitor to 
 her son — whom, after all, she' dearly loved — if, 
 knowing it herself, she had allowed him to remain 
 ignorant that any one was in hiding. 
 
 The Hystorie explicitly declares that neither Ger- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 207 
 
 trude nor Hamlet knew that the chamberlain was a 
 hidden listener, and I believe Shakespeare meant us 
 to understand it so ; but this belief will constrain the 
 actors who personate them to alter their " business " 
 in this scene. 
 
 I believe that Hamlet's mind was in a condition 
 of great excitement and his nerves in a state of ex- 
 treme sensibility, his muscles responding promptly 
 and vigorously to any message from his brain. 
 When the queen called for help, and Polonius cried 
 out from behind the arras, Hamlet, instantly on 
 hearing the cry, on an unformulated impulse, drew 
 his sword and thrust it though the hanging in the 
 direction of the sound. Polonius was hastening 
 toward the opening through which he could reach 
 the queen, and his onward motion, even as Hamlet 
 lunged through the curtain, and his fall, must have 
 wrenched the sword from the prince's hand. This 
 action occupied only a moment, not much more 
 time than was needed for Hamlet to cry : • 
 
 How now ! A rat .' 
 
 and, as his sword is drawn from his grasp by Polo- 
 nius's fall, Hamlet, turning towards his father's por- 
 trait, as if offering the result of his sword-thrust 
 to him, should throw his arms heaven-ward with the 
 triumphant cry : 
 
 Dead, for a ducat, dead ! 
 
 He believes that the eavesdropper was the king, 
 and that his task is accomplished. Claudius's 
 presence here must prove to Gertrude that he is 
 unworthy! 
 
2o8 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Hamlet should remain fixed in this attitude of 
 prayer and thankfulness, while his mother runs to 
 lift the arras, crying as she goes : 
 
 O me, what hast thou done ? 
 
 The stage direction, Lifts up the arras and discovers 
 Polonius. — is not found in the Quartos or the Folio : 
 it has been inserted in Hamlet's part by modern ed- 
 itors, and inserted in the wrong place. The queen, 
 not Hamlet, should lift the hanging, before she ex- 
 claims : 
 
 O, what a rash and bloody deed is this ! 
 
 I feel sure that thousands of wives and mothers, 
 looking on at the play, have revolted at Gertrude's 
 represented apathy when her son's undiscerning 
 sword lets out this unknown life. Gertrude does 
 not stand motionless ; she runs toward the spot ; she 
 pushes back the hanging ; her heart fears that Clau- 
 dius has been pierced by Hamlet's blade; and, as 
 she hastens to find out the truth, she expresses to 
 the audience that she does not know who was in 
 hiding, by the cry: 
 
 O me, what hast thou done ? 
 
 To this question Hamlet replies : 
 
 Nay, I know not : 
 
 then, as his mother remains speechless, gazing upon 
 the corse that is discovered to her eyes, but not to 
 his, like lightning he reflects that but a moment 
 since he had left his uncle absorbed in prayer ; he 
 had come instantly to his mother's chamber ; there 
 had been no time for Claudius to conceal himself: 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 209 
 
 the fear breaks in upon him that his exultation has 
 been premature, and, unable to submit to the doubt, 
 he turns toward Gertrude as she bends over the dead 
 body of Polonius, caUing out in his intolerable sus- 
 pense : 
 
 Is it the king ? 
 
 When Hamlet stands beside his mother, looking 
 down on the dead councilor, she turns on him ex- 
 claiming : 
 
 O, what a rash and bloody deed is this ! 
 
 and he, disappointed because his blade has miscar- 
 ried, instead of lamenting in words what his heart 
 is mourning over, rebukes her for rebuking him. 
 Then he stands speechless gazing upon the dead 
 body of Ophelia's father, — dead by his hand ; and 
 through his mind courses the recollection of Polo- 
 nius's action in placing the crown on Claudius's 
 head; of his perverted judgment which led him to 
 seclude Ophelia; of his officiousness; and, finally, 
 the realization that Polonius was here, in his mother's 
 closet — a spot that should have been a sanctuary — 
 to spy upon her unhappy son as he exposed his an- 
 guished soul to her who should have been his secur- 
 est confidante. Still, when he speaks, his words 
 express not anger, but sorrow — sorrow seasoned by 
 contempt. 
 
 Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell ! 
 
 (he says) 
 
 I took thee for thy better : take thy fortune : 
 Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.'' 
 
2IO HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 The sight of Gertrude's agitation recalls the object 
 with which he had come to her, and which, alas ! 
 is not yet accomplished ; and he dismisses all 
 thought of the dead councilor, and of his own 
 part in his death, and begins the work of leading his 
 mother to repentance. Hamlet's was one of those 
 excitable natures that could lash itself into a fury, 
 and we see, as he proceeds in his arraignment of his 
 mother, how his feelings are intensified. Gertrude 
 has not believed her son was mad ; but, when he 
 seems to threaten her with violence and in a sudden 
 access of frenzy kills the unseen eavesdropper, and 
 finally holds converse with the " incorporal air," she 
 is at last convinced that the others have been right, 
 and expresses this in her heart-broken cry : 
 
 Alas, he's mad ! 
 
 No one has such good reason now as Gertrude for be- 
 lieving her son insane, but Hamlet is able first to 
 beat down and set aside this conclusion, and after- 
 ward to induce his mother to unite with him in im- 
 posing on the king the belief that he is really de- 
 ranged, — a belief that she no longer entertains. She 
 agrees to this, in part because Hamlet demands it, 
 and in part to save him from the consequences she 
 fears he has incurred in killing Polonius. 
 
XXI. 
 
 A GREAT deal has been written about Shakespeare's 
 intention in shutting Gertrude's senses to the pres- 
 ence of the ghost. It has been said that only Ham- 
 let saw it, because its mission was to him alone ; 
 why then had Horatio and the sentinels seen and 
 ,heard it on its previous appearances? It has been 
 said that Gertrude's guilt shut her eyes to the pres- 
 ence of an inhabitant of the other world ; but this 
 was not a blessed spirit, a ministering angel? It has 
 been said that the ghost was "but a subjective one, 
 the creation of Hamlet's heated brain ; but Shakes- 
 peare need not make it visible to the audience in 
 order to prove that Hamlet thought he saw it. I 
 think we must conclude that the ghost was Shakes- 
 peare's creation, and that he governed it, and not 
 the ghost Shakespeare ; as when he introduced super- 
 natural elements in other plays he created and con- 
 trolled them. The witches in Macbeth, Banquo's 
 ghost, the vision of the kings, Caesar's ghost, these 
 he operated as he pleased, revealing and concealing 
 them as seemed best. In The Tempest, Act. III. Sc. 
 III., Caliban and Stephano hear the voice of Ariel, 
 while Trinculo hears nothing. This is a parallel case 
 to Gertrude's insensibility, but we do not conclude 
 that Trinculo was more wicked than Caliban, or his 
 other companion. Gertrude did not hear the ghost 
 
212 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 because Shakespeare chose that Hamlet, all alone, 
 should separate her heart from Claudius, and return 
 it to his father. Had she seen that father "in his 
 habit as he lived," we could never measure the suc- 
 cess achieved by the prince ; — some of it must have 
 been attributed to the apparition. But we know 
 that Hamlet does not spare his mother until he 
 has awakened her conscience, and made her see her 
 own depravity — until she begs : 
 
 O Hamlet, speak no more ; 
 Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; 
 And there I see such black and grained spots 
 As will not leave their tinct. 
 
 O, speak to me no more; 
 These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears ; 
 No more, sweet Hamlet ! 
 
 There is a peculiar pathos in the appearance of 
 the ghost at just this juncture of the play. During 
 all the evening Hamlet has been thinking intently 
 of his father, recalling and reviewing all the circum- 
 stances of the ghost's revelation, made two months 
 before, but only now proved to be true. We can 
 read what his thoughts were before he went to his 
 mother's closet : his Fifth Soliloquy discloses them. 
 He says : 
 
 'Tis now the very witching time of night, 
 
 When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out 
 
 Contagion to this world ; 
 
 and then he waits, listening, watching, and almost 
 wishing that hell may again breathe out the un- 
 happy spirit to whom he hopes at once to give the 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 213 
 
 rest so long denied it. The recognition of the suf- 
 fering endured by his wronged father — suffering 
 extended by his son, who had not been able, with- 
 out proof, wholly to credit the accusation against 
 his mother and his father's brother — so influences 
 him that he cries out : 
 
 Now could I drink hot blood, 
 And do such bitter business as the day 
 Would quake to look on. 
 
 There should be no doubt that Hamlet was ready 
 then, and at every future moment of his life, to kill 
 his uncle. He was even tempted to kill his mother 
 too, but he remembered that more than vengeance 
 was needed to give repose to his father's spirit : he 
 must lead Gertrude to renounce her guilty love for 
 the king. 
 
 In the light of our knowledge that this was Ham- 
 let's condition of mind ; when we reflect that he had 
 just spared Claudius's life, because his death while at 
 prayer would not have satisfied revenge, and had 
 killed Polonius, believing that he was the king, 
 engaged in an act that had " no relish of salvation 
 in it ;" when we perceive that, at this very moment, 
 her son's words were like daggers in the queen's 
 ears, it is pitiful to realize that the appearance of 
 the ghost brought no relief to Hamlet, no commen- 
 dation because he was so well accomplishing the 
 most difficult part of his father's behest ; that, on 
 the contrary, Hamlet at once felt its antagonism 
 and was startled into a sudden prayer for personal 
 safety. 
 
214 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 When the apparition first appeared to his friends 
 and him, on the platform, Hamlet felt that all were 
 equally threatened by its presence, and he prayed : 
 Angels and ministers of grace defend us! 
 
 but on this second appearance the ghost's aspect is 
 so different that he is filled with apprehension for 
 himself, though not for his mother, and he prays: 
 
 Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, 
 You heavenly guards ! 
 
 Then, tremblingly, he asks : 
 
 What would your gracious figure ? 
 
 but the ghost does not reply. All its regard is fixed 
 on Gertrude, and it yearns to be able to comfort the 
 suffering queen. As it still keeps silence, and shows 
 no sympathy with Hamlet, he again demands : 
 
 Do you not come your tardy son to chide, 
 That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by 
 The important acting of your dread command ? 
 
 Hamlet's sensibility persuades him that he has 
 carelessly wasted precious opportunities, and he 
 has conceived of no other purpose for which the 
 ghost should come, except to reproach him for 
 delay, and yet its silence and apparent absorption 
 in the agitation of the queen suggest that some 
 other cause controls it. Hamlet waits patiently for 
 a response before he urges an answer to his ques- 
 tion, with the words : 
 
 O say ! 
 
 and the ghost, turning at last from its rapt contem- 
 plation of Gertrude, unwilling to confess that love 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 215 
 
 for her has brought it there, catches at his sugges- 
 tion, and hesitatingly explains : 
 
 Do not forget : this visitation 
 
 Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. 
 
 Hamlet's purpose was not blunted : — at that mo- 
 ment it was stronger than ever before ; and there 
 could be no fear of his forgetting, for, at the in- 
 stant, he was pursuing his purpose, and with good 
 result. The ghost did not tell the truth : its visita- 
 tion was not to Hamlet but to Gertrude ; it came 
 solely to protect her, and to moderate the expres- 
 sion of Hamlet's feeling against his mother ; and 
 this should be made to appear unequivocally. 
 
 On the elder Hamlet's first appearance to his son, 
 he had plainly shown his still-enduring love for his 
 guilty queen ; he had carefully tried to turn the 
 sword of Hamlet's vengeance from her. His love 
 for her was stronger than death ; even her unfaith- 
 fulness could not extinguish it. He desired to be 
 revenged on Claudius for the " witchcraft " he had 
 employed to wean Gertrude from her husband, not 
 for the murder by which he had been ousted from 
 the throne. The throne he valued was her heart : 
 without Gertrude he could not rest in heaven, and 
 separation from her was, in itself, a hell. This was 
 plainly indicated on the ghost's first appearance, 
 and this, his second coming, still more plainly mani- 
 fested the dead king's love. To defend the queen 
 he even threatens Hamlet. 
 
 The ghost, on entering, should instantly interpose 
 between her son and Gertrude, as if to screen and pro- 
 
2i6 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 tect her from the pain Hamlet was inflicting on her. 
 Its materialization should seem to result entirely 
 from an overpowering desire to moderate Hamlet's 
 bitterness toward his mother, and it should seem to 
 menace the prince because he made his mother suf- 
 fer. The ghost believed, if the critics do not, that 
 Hamlet was ready to do bitter business, and feared 
 that it might be more bitter than it had desired; 
 and Hamlet's after-pleadings with his mother were 
 much more temperate, his blunted (?) purpose was 
 whetted, not to increased virulity against her, but 
 to a careful moderation, in compliance with his 
 father's desire, conveyed by his loving looks and 
 words. 
 
 I know that nothing of this is expressly stated by 
 Shakespeare, and this is not the way in which actors 
 now represent the ghost, but is not this interpreta- 
 tion the only just one we can draw from what is 
 stated ? The First Quarto says: Enter the ghost in 
 his night go wne, And Hamlet, in the later versions 
 sees his father " in his habit as he lived." This in- 
 tentionally indicates that the ghost's errand is not 
 the same as when he first appeared, armed, cap-a-pie. 
 He appears now clad as he usually was in the days 
 of his union with Gertrude, appears in a garb which 
 suggests that he is hovering around her in her 
 chamber, though unseen. His attitude toward his 
 son inspires fear, not awe. Hamlet's hair " starts up 
 and stands on end " with fear, because his father's 
 aspect now. is terrible; his anger at Hamlet's harsh 
 strictures on his mother threatens him ; he glares 
 on Hamlet, until the queen is roused from her an- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 217 
 
 guish and questions her son. The tenderness of 
 the ghost should be expressed in his effort to make 
 Hamlet comfort Gertrude : 
 
 But, look, amazement on thy mother sits : 
 O, step between her and her fighting soul: 
 Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works : 
 Speak to her, Hamlet. 
 
 and Hamlet's question : 
 
 How is it with you, lady? 
 
 should seem an involuntary obedience to the strong 
 impulsion of his father's command. The ghost 
 should brood over Gertrude, as if it was impossible 
 to part from her, and when, at last, it steals out at 
 the portal, its gaze should be fixed on her in love, 
 and not on Hamlet. This should be its piteous ac- 
 tion that threatens to convert his stern effects. 
 Hamlet says : 
 
 His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones. 
 
 Would make them capable. Do not look upon me ; 
 
 Lest with this piteous action you convert 
 
 My stern effects : then what I have to do 
 
 Will want true colour ; tears perchance for blood. 
 
 What was the peculiar condition that was to make 
 stones capable ? It was the expression of the 
 ghost's undiminished love for a wife whose affection 
 had been perverted by a villain. The ghost's form, 
 which expressed this, joined with the cause which 
 had made shipwreck of his life, would melt a stone. 
 What was the piteous action that threatened to 
 convert Hamlet's stern effects ? There is but one 
 action that could convert them ; all others would 
 
2i8 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 confirm and strengthen them. Every action except 
 the one the ghost showed must have stimulated 
 Hamlet to a quicker, sharper desire for revenge. 
 The piteous action was the manifestation in the 
 elder Hamlet's form that his love for Gertrude was 
 stronger than death and the grave, stronger even than 
 dishonor: none of these could destroy it. Hamlet 
 is so moved by the revelation of his father's all-for- 
 giving love, that he can not look upon him, nor 
 meet his loving, yearning, supplicating eyes; he 
 knows that he will crucify Gertrude by his pur- 
 posed acts, and, for the first time, he recognizes 
 that he shall wound his father also ; he sees that 
 all that Gertrude suffers the ghost too feels. 
 
 The piteous action that expresses his father's 
 adoration for the queen, and arra.ys him against 
 his son, moves Hamlet to tears, and threatens for 
 a moment to turn him aside from his stern deter- 
 mination. But only for a moment: on the vanish- 
 ing of the ghost Hamlet again turns to his task, 
 but, in obedience to his father's wish, he pleads 
 with his mother and does not again revile her. 
 
 Consider the beauty this view of the ghost restores 
 to the play. Think of the contrast between the 
 elder and the younger Hamlet ; the one longing for 
 the love of the woman he knows to be unworthy, the 
 other tearing from his heart the image of the maid- 
 en he only fears may become so. The pathos of 
 the play is increased if we realize how much more 
 Hamlet suffers in his efforts to avenge his father's 
 wrongs, than does his father in enduring them. His 
 father excuses Gertrude, asserting that she was sub- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 219 
 
 dued by the witchcraft of Claudius's wits and by 
 his treacherous gifts, and he always loves her, and 
 hopes .to be re-united to her. In the elder Hamlet 
 personal feeling is the cause for all his actions, 
 while in our prince personal feeling is thrust aside, 
 and absolute right and eternal justice are alone con- 
 sidered. Hamlet's probity enriches his appreciation 
 of his father, but there is compensation even in 
 this. Hamlet were doubly orphaned should his 
 unquestioning admiration for the dead king be de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 When the ghost steals away out at the portal, 
 after beseeching his son to comfort Gertru'de, Ham- 
 let again addresses himself to the effort to move his 
 mother to repentance and a consequent renuncia- 
 tion of Claudius. He no longer uses violence of 
 speech against either his mother or his uncle. He 
 pleads with Gertrude begging her if she cannot sepa- 
 rate herself at once from her paramour, to do so by 
 degrees ; and as she listens to him without attempt- 
 ing to defend herself or Claudius, Hamlet's old- 
 time tenderness for his dear mother wakes in his 
 heart, and, had he been less upright, would have 
 moved him to expression of it. He convinces 
 Gertrude that he is not mad, and induces her to 
 promise not to let Claudius extort from her a revela- 
 tion, of her son's real state of mind. He shows her 
 his feeling against the king, and even expresses his 
 intention to countermine him, without eliciting a 
 word of remonstrance from her. She makes no 
 response when her son beseeches her : 
 
 Repent what's past ; avoid what is to come. 
 
220 TPIE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 It would not be fitting that she should do so ; but 
 her promise — 
 
 Be thou assured, if words be made of breath. 
 And breath of life, I have no Hfe to breathe 
 What thou hast said to me — 
 
 convinces us that the opening wedge, that will ulti- 
 mately separate her from her guilty love, has been 
 inserted. She consents to conceal Hamlet's secret 
 from Claudius, and we know the rest will follow. 
 
 Hamlet's seeming indifference to Polonius's 
 death looks like insensibility, but is not, except in 
 the sense that at this moment he is insensible to 
 everything that will not help him to attain his end — 
 his mother's repentance and his uncle's death. His 
 immediate thought about it is that this murder 
 will furnish to Claudius a legitimate excuse for 
 sending him to England. When he has time to re- 
 flect he deeply regrets the killing, and sympathizes 
 with Laertes's anger and his grief, recognizing its 
 resemblance to his own. When he parts from his 
 mother he drags the dead councilor with him, and 
 Gertrude leaves her closet and goes toward the 
 king's apartments. 
 
 One further word I wish to add before I leave the 
 consideration of this scene. Except by the lines of 
 the text, which indicate that Hamlet compels Ger- 
 trude to look upon two pictures, one of which'has 
 
 A station lil<e the herald Mercury 
 New-hghted on a heaven-kissing hill — 
 
 Shakespeare does not explain what these pictures 
 are, nor how they should be exhibited; and the cus- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 221 
 
 torn of actors in the inspection of them differs. 
 Some represent the pictures as hanging on the wall, 
 — half-length portraits sometimes, and sometimes 
 full-length ; others produce two miniatures, one 
 from the queen's neck, and one from Hamlet's ; and 
 others see the portraits only with their mind's eye. 
 Is it fair to consider the German Hamlet — Fratricide 
 Punished — which Cohn says was " in the Dresden 
 stage-library in 1626 " ? In it Hamlet says : 
 
 But see, there in that gallery hangs the counterfeit [conter- 
 fait] of your first husband, and there hangs the counterfeit of 
 your present. What think you now ? Which of them is the 
 comeliest .' Is not the first a majestic lord } * 
 
 Surely this shows us how the pictures were managed 
 in Fratricide Punished, and thus brings us nearer 
 to Shakespeare's time than any other authority. 
 Would it not be most effective if both portraits — 
 full-length — should hang within view of the audi- 
 ence, the picture of king Hamlet just outside Ger- 
 trude's closet, beyond the entrance through which 
 the ghost appears ? Should not this portrait repre- 
 sent the king in his ordinary costume, and not in 
 the " armor he had on, when he the ambitious Nor- 
 way combated?" And would it not be a justifiable 
 stage effect to represent the ghost as the counter- 
 part and exact imitation of this picture, suddenly 
 becoming visible to Hamlet directly in front of 
 his portrait ; so that Hamlet should doubt, until 
 the ghost moved quickly forward toward Ger- 
 trude, whether it was not merely a delusion of his 
 
 * Quoted from Furness's Variorum Hamlet, vol. 2, p. 133. 
 
222 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 vision ? This it seems to me, would be very pow- 
 erful; but always, where I speak of the way, the 
 means, by which Shakespeare should be represented, 
 it is with dififidence. I always desire to be under- 
 stood as expressing an opinion only, not asserting 
 anything absolutely, and in many places I hope the 
 generosity of the reader of these pages will insert, 
 / think, I believe, or It seems to me. 
 
XXII. 
 
 The succeeding scene exhibits the king, Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern, and the queen, who has 
 probably just come into their presence in a condi- 
 tion of great agitation. The king perceives it, and 
 addresses her sharply ; — who can tell what he then 
 feared ? He knew Polonius had not returned ! 
 
 There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves : 
 You must translate : 'tis fit we understand them. 
 Where is your son .'' 
 
 Gertrude dismisses the two courtiers, and then 
 tells Claudius that Hamlet, in a sudden attack of 
 frenzy, has killed Polonius ; she says he is " mad 
 as the sea and wind, when both contend which is 
 the mightier:" and thus we see how thoroughly she 
 keeps her promise of concealment, made a minute 
 earlier. She is better than her word — or worse — 
 for she lies to screen Hamlet from the conse- 
 quences of his rash action. But she need feel no 
 alarm. Claudius dares not attempt to punish this 
 crime. He fears that Hamlet, if he be arraigned, 
 will turn on him and accuse him of his brother's 
 murder; he knows nothing of the ghost, and he 
 supposes Hamlet's knowledge of his guilt (knowl- 
 edge manifested by the mock-play) was obtained 
 from some witness whom he can produce. He 
 dares not bring Hamlet to trial ; he must carry out 
 
 223 
 
224 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 his first design and send him instantly to England, 
 and he uses the death of Polonius as an excuse to 
 Gertrude for her son's sudden departure. He sends 
 Guildenstern and Rosencrantz to find Hamlet, and 
 bring Polonius's body to the chapel, and then, tell- 
 ing the queen, — 
 
 Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends ; 
 And let them know, both what we mean to do. 
 And what's untimely done, — ■ 
 
 he goes to seek his counselors. 
 
 Hamlet now comes in. That he is still in the same 
 condition of mental excitement as when he left his 
 mother's closet, appears from his momentary won- 
 der at the voices of his two school-fellows, who call 
 him. This wonder is caused by their familiarity; 
 they call him "Hamlet! Lord Hamlet ! " None but 
 his father and his mother call him so — " Hamlet " — 
 and for a moment he thinks he hears his father's 
 voice, arid looks about him again to discern his 
 presence. 'Tis for a moment only, and when Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern enter, demanding where 
 he has left the body of Polonius, he meets their 
 questions with the same biting sarcasm that he had 
 before employed toward them: he scarifies them 
 with his caustic words, and then goes with them to 
 the king. He has decided that the assumption of 
 madness, which for thirty-six hours has been his 
 amusement, must now be his protection. He words 
 his answers to the king so that they tell the abso- 
 lute truth, and yet deceive his hearers. The audi- 
 ence understand them, and Hamlet's condition of 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 225 
 
 excitement seems so to have infected them, that they 
 almost join in the sneering laugh with which he di- 
 rects the attendants to the body of Polonius with 
 the seemingly heartless words : " He will stay till 
 ye come." 
 
 When Claudius tells the prince that he must at 
 once, for his own safety, start for England, Hamlet 
 seems to express surprise; but he already has ex- 
 pected this, and reminded his mother of it a short 
 time before, saying : 
 
 There's letters seal'd : and my two school-fellows. 
 Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, 
 They bear the mandate. 
 
 We should wonder how Hamlet knew this project 
 was on foot, for Claudius had only conceived the 
 plan of sending him in charge of the two spies that 
 same night after the play, did we not find authority 
 for his knowledge in the old Hystorie, p. 306, " Ham- 
 blet understanding that he should be sent into Eng- 
 land, presently doubted the occasion of his voyage, 
 etc." Shakespeare found this statement and ac- 
 cepted it : he wrote to make a play, and his genius 
 did not stop to explain everything that we latter- 
 day gossips might make clear. 
 
 Hamlet's farewell to Claudius was intended for 
 his mother : he knew Gertrude would question 
 Claudius as to her son's parting words, and he pur- 
 posely made them paradoxical that they might 
 remain in Claudius's mind. He knew that the 
 repetition of his words, " father and mother is man 
 and wife ; man and wife is one flesh ;" would renew 
 
226 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 in Gertrude's memory the recollection of the in- 
 junctions he had addressed to her, to separate from 
 Claudius and adhere again to her husband with 
 whom she was " one flesh." This last obscured 
 message was his final effort to obey the ghost's 
 command, before, very early in the morning, he 
 started for England with his two school-fellows. 
 
 As they go toward the ship they cross a plain, 
 and there meet Fortinbras and his army, who is 
 here introduced so that when the final catastrophe 
 arrives, and the crown diverts to him, we can ac- 
 count for his presence at the Danish court. Hamlet 
 stops to speak with the captain of the forces, and, 
 when he has parted from him, delays a little ere he 
 again rejoins his companions, and expresses his 
 intense disgust with his own apathy that still allows 
 the king to live. He says : 
 
 How all occasions do inform against me, 
 
 And spur my dull revenge ! What is a man, 
 
 If his chief good and market of his time 
 
 Be but to sleep and feed .' a beast, no more. 
 
 Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, 
 
 Looking before and after, gave us not 
 
 That capability and god-like reason 
 
 To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be 
 
 Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple 
 
 Of thinking too precisely on the event, 
 
 A thought which quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom 
 
 And ever three parts coward, I do not know 
 
 Why yet I live to say ' This thing's to do ; ' 
 
 Sith I have cause and will and strength and means 
 
 To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me : 
 
 Witness this army of such mass and charge 
 
 Led by a delicate and tender prince. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 227 
 
 Whose spirit with divine ambition puff' d 
 
 Makes mouths at the invisible event. 
 
 Exposing what is mortal and unsure 
 
 To all that fortune, death and danger dare. 
 
 Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great 
 
 Is not to stir without great argument. 
 
 But greatly to find quarrel in a straw 
 
 When honour's at the stake. How stand I then. 
 
 That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, 
 
 Excitements of my reason and my blood, 
 
 And let all sleep ? while, to my shame, I see 
 
 The imminent death of twenty thousand men. 
 
 That, for a fantasy and trick of fame. 
 
 Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot 
 
 Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause. 
 
 Which is not tomb enough and continent 
 
 To hide the slain ? Oh, from this time forth. 
 
 My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! 
 
 Hamlet'.s severe strictures on his own conduct are 
 what we should expect from his super-sensitiveness. 
 He is not really to blame for any delay ; the 
 moment he was convinced the ghost should be be- 
 lieved he began to act — really he began before this, 
 when he went to Ophelia's chamber ; and it is his 
 own mis-directed action — the killing of Polonius — 
 that is sending him now from Denmark. Hamlet 
 has become a man of action ; his days of thoughtful 
 contemplation are past. From the moment the 
 mock play convinces him that his father, and not 
 the devil, had appeared to him, he is all action, and 
 all his action is devoted to one end — the killing of 
 the king. 
 
 Immediately after the play Hamlet turned on his 
 school-fellows, and openly manifested his contempt 
 
228 THE TRUE STORY, OF 
 
 for Claudius : this was action. He was about to 
 stab the king and restrained himself till he could kill 
 both soul and body: paradox though it seem, this 
 was action. He awakened his mother's conscience, 
 and killed Polonius : this too was action, and action 
 calculated to fulfill the ghost's command. When he 
 is sent from Denmark, the very first night out he 
 stealthily removes the papers Rosencrantz and Guil- 
 denstern are bearing to England, examines them, 
 and at once prepares others to replace them : this 
 certainly is action. The next day in the sea-fight 
 he is the first and only man who, in the grapple, 
 boards the pirate ship : action again. He persuades 
 the pirates to spare his life and to carry him back 
 to Denmark : action. He at once writes to the 
 king saying that next day he should desire to see 
 him, and to Horatio desiring him to come to him 
 "with as much speed as thou would'st fly death." 
 At Ophelia's grave he proclaims his title to the 
 crown he expects so soon to wear : This is I, 
 Hamlet the Dane. He goes straightway to the 
 castle to kill the king: he fences with Laertes at 
 once — no postponement : and, before he succumbs 
 to death, he kills Claudius, and prevents Hora- 
 tio from draining the poisoned cup. Him he 
 compels to live to tell the world of Hamlet's 
 actions. 
 
 Hamlet's self-reproaches are like those with which 
 we afflict ourselves when we stand beside the grave 
 of one we love. Now matter how great our tender 
 regard has been, at that hour we always accuse our- 
 selves of much that we have done and left undone. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 229 
 
 Hamlet knows his duty has not been accomplished, 
 and the fear that he has neglected opportunities to 
 obey his father's command outweighs the fact that 
 he has acted, and is acting, with reasonable quick- 
 ness. He sees Fortinbras ready to dispute the 
 title to a tiny plot of ground, while he has hesitated 
 to press his just claim to the whole realm of Den- 
 mark, and has besides as " excitements to his reason 
 and his blood," a father slain, and a mother dis- 
 honored. He sees himself sent away from his 
 native land, and the knowledge that this absence 
 will paralyze his arm, at least for a time, spurs him 
 to self-abuse because he had not better employed 
 his time, when it was his. We ought to see the in- 
 centives to Hamlet's Seventh Soliloquy, and not ac- 
 cept his self-condemnation as a just judgment. He 
 can not decide " whether it be bestial oblivion, or 
 some craven scruple of thinking too precisely on the 
 event," that has so long withheld h'im. He does not 
 remember how founded in reason his doubts have 
 been. Now that he is at last convinced that the 
 ghost spoke truth, he thinks that he has always be- 
 lieved him, and forgets that knowledge secure 
 enough to justify action has been obtained only with- 
 in the last twelve hours. A less rational and investi- 
 gating mind than Hamlet's would instantly have 
 been imposed on by the apparition, and would have 
 acted first and investigated afterward. Hamlet was 
 never afraid to kill the king, but he did fear 
 to commit injustice: he thinks now that only 
 insensibility to his father's wrongs could have 
 made him suspect that vengeance could be in- 
 
230 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 justice, and his last words before he embarks for 
 England are : 
 
 O, from this time forth, 
 My thoughts be bloody, or be little worth ! 
 
 Hamlet's departure from Denmark closes the 
 second day of the Second Period. In it a great 
 variety of changes has occurred. Claudius has 
 been convinced that Hamlet is not mad, by the 
 same testimony which convinces Ophelia that his 
 mind is quite overthrown ; the mock-play has 
 proved the truthfulness of the ghost ; Hamlet has 
 turned upon his school-fellows and defied them ; 
 the king has confessed his guilt to the audience ; 
 Hamlet has killed Polonius ; Gertrude's conscience 
 has been awakened, and she has sided with Hamlet 
 against her husband ; and Hamlet has been sent out 
 of the kingdom in charge of his two school-fellows. 
 
XXIII. 
 
 The next scenes require the lapse of many weeks 
 — of full two months — to accomplish what they 
 represent. It requires that time for the ship in 
 which Hamlet sailed to reach England and return 
 to Denmark. Remember how long a time was 
 required for the ambassadors to go to Norway and 
 return. It requires that time for a messenger to 
 reach Laertes in France and come back again with 
 him to Elsinore. 
 
 The first scene (which is now numbered Scene V. 
 Act III.) shows us Ophelia, after she became de- 
 ranged, forcing her way into Gertrude's presence. 
 Her derangement was no gradual alienation, as Ham- 
 let's was supposed to be, but a sudden loosening 
 of the bonds of reason. While her condition was 
 the consequence of her father's -death, his death 
 alone was not the cause of it. The death of a 
 father, as Claudius reminds us early in the play, 
 is " as common as any the most vulgar thing to 
 sense;" and, happy circumstance, filial affection 
 accepts it as a necessary blow. But Ophelia's 
 father had been killed by Hamlet ; this much she 
 knew, thou-gh she was not informed of it at first, and 
 was ignorant of it when she sent to France for 
 Laertes. She then suspected Claudius. She knew 
 only that her father was dead, and had been taken, 
 
 231 
 
232 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 by the king's command,' to the royal chapel, instead 
 of to his own house, and thus she was shut away 
 from the tender communings with her dead that 
 affection covets. She saw in this a proof of an un- 
 natural death, but no immediate explanation was 
 given to her, or to the messenger whom she dis- 
 patched to fetch Laertes. ' After hjs departure she- 
 was told, bu t not by Gertrude, that Hamlet had 
 kiTlecl fier father, \jrhe story was a muddled one : 
 she could not find out why Polonius was in the 
 queen's closet behind the arras, nor what had in- 
 duced Hamlet to draw his sword upon him. She 
 was not consulted as to her father's obsequies, and 
 he was hastily and shabbily interred. LThe poor 
 child revolved the catastrophe of his death again 
 and again, returning always to the one thought that 
 Hamlet was her father's murderer. \ [She knew this 
 act of Hamlet's had made it forever impossible that 
 she should become his wife.^ It was not her own 
 feeling that decided thus. \^he loved him so blindly 
 that if she could have believed Hamlet would wel- 
 come her, she would have fled to his side, and would 
 have found some excuse, in his madness, again to 
 justify her forgiveness of him.\ ^ut this murder 
 had accented, in the most positive manner, his pre- 
 vious repudiation of hoJ She could not but a ccuse 
 Vipi-gplf ag bpi'ng, I'n p rfm^t'' wa y, the cause o f her 
 father 's death, a nd of Hamlet jJjoss.oL reason: her 
 t oo quick obedience to her f ather's 'nJliqjQtioTis had, 
 she thought , first alienated h er lover's affection, 
 and then directed his^ sword against her fa^er. 
 These are the thoughts that precede and accomplish 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 233 
 
 Ophelia's loss of reason : her mind was dethroned, 
 she was deranged, insane. 
 
 It has been said that Ophelia was Gertrude's 
 favorite maid of honor, and that it was during her 
 attendance on his mother that Hamlet had won her 
 heart. This is gratuitous; there is absolutely noth- 
 ing to indicate it ; although the old Hystorie, p. 294, 
 represents that the " beawtifuU woman " who 
 desired Hamblet, was " one that from her infancy 
 loved and favored him." It has also been said that 
 Gertrude's words at Ophelia's grave present a 
 redeeming feature in her character. These words 
 are hypocritical ; they do not express true affection ; 
 they are uttered in the hearing of Laertes and the 
 priests, for the purpose of disarming priticism. 
 \ Gertrude shows no affection__f or Ophelia while 
 living, no sympathy with her whe njnsane, and no 
 agitation when she brings to ,hjeJi,.brother the word 
 that she is droyifned. ^The only redeeming feature 
 that the queen possessed was one she shared with 
 roaring lions and with ravening wolves, with the 
 most abject and worthless of her sex — affec tion for 
 h er offspring. The elder Hamlet's love for her is 
 only another of the many examples of a worthy 
 man loving a perverted nature, and excusing all its 
 evil deeds. \Ji Shakespeare had intended to endow 
 Gertrude with any womanly virtue, he would surely 
 have represented her as interested in, and caring for, 
 the daughter of the man her son had killed. A^She 
 should have brought her to the castle, and should 
 have assuaged her own sorrow at Hamlet's exile, 
 and Ophelia's grief at her double loss, by sweet 
 
234 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 communings, in which the name they both so dearly 
 loved would have been mentioned only to excuse 
 his hasty and ill-resulting deed. But Shakespeare 
 represents Gertrude and Claudius, after the lapse of 
 two months, as so careless of Ophelia's well-being 
 that her appearance at the palace gives them the 
 first information of her loss of reason. 
 
 Horatio, Hamlet's dear and true friend, goes 
 with her to the castle, when he sees she will not 
 be restrained. By this circumstance Shakespeare 
 shows us the depth and faithfulness of Horatio's 
 love for Hamlet. He is a comparative stranger in 
 Elsinore, but he seems to be the only friend who 
 watches over Hamlet's " Rose of May." The prince 
 had not told Horatio of his mother's adultery : (he 
 was unwilling to speak of that while he hoped the 
 ghost might be a liar) and he therefore had said 
 nothing of his determination to renounce Ophelia. 
 Horatio watches over her for his dear friend's sake, 
 because he knows he loves her, but her unnrotected 
 condition would have interested his s^niv^oJiWj^'id 
 
 this claim upon it not exist. n,. . n 
 
 The queen and Horatio and an attendant gentle- 
 men appear, when the curtain rises, and the queen, 
 as she enters, says : 
 
 I will not speak with her. 
 
 These words show us how little Gertrude cares for 
 the sweet demented maiden ; she is not willing even 
 to see her, and try if affection and tenderness can 
 dissipate the cloud that enfolds her. " I will not 
 speak to her!" These words express the extreme 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 235 
 
 of selfishness, and it is an appeal to Gertrude's sel- 
 fishness that at last procures admission for Ophelia. 
 The gentleman who has come in with Horatio, prob- 
 ably the gentleman in waiting, more tender-hearted 
 than the queen, says : 
 
 She is importunate, indeed distract : 
 
 Her mood will needs be pitied. 
 Queen. What would she have .'' 
 Gent. She speaics much of her father ; says she hears 
 
 There's tricks i' the world ; and hems, and beats her heart ; 
 
 Spurns enviously at straws ; speaks things in doubt, 
 
 That carry but half sense : her speech is nothing, 
 
 Yet the unshaped use of it doth move 
 
 The hearers to collection ; they aim at it, 
 
 And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts ; 
 
 Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them. 
 
 Indeed would make one think there might be thought. 
 
 Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily. 
 Hor. 'Twere good she were spoken with ; for she may strew 
 
 Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. 
 
 The speech of the gentleman does not express his 
 m?an"r'|f *'*''*4 clearly : he dares not say exactly what 
 h*? W^IWS ^ d he wraps his thoughts in suggestive 
 lUOfiaS, CTl& _ has heard Ophelia's speech and songs, 
 and has seen her winks, and nods, and gestures, and 
 he concludes from them what other minds, notably 
 Tieck's, have done, and suspects that Hamlet had 
 been guilty of a greater wrong than the murder of 
 Polonius. Horatio sees this, and covertly rebukes 
 him for his evil thoughts in the words " ill-breeding 
 minds." The gentleman, with all his tenderness, 
 had an ill-breeding mind. 
 
 We need not dwell upon Ophelia's words when 
 
236 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 she is at last admitted to the queen. We perceive 
 that Gertrude and Claudius have not known of her 
 disorder, and from her speech at parting we get an 
 idea why she has come to the castle — she wanted 
 counsel, and she departs satisfied, thinking she has 
 received it^. Her memory has returned to the cir- 
 cumstances that unseated it, and she says, as though 
 in reply to some remembered effort to console her 
 when she first heard of her father's death : 
 
 I hope all will be well. We must be patient : but I cannot 
 choose but weep, to think they should lay him i' the cold 
 ground. My brother shall know of it : and so I thank you for 
 your good counsel. 
 
 And so she departs, and Horatio with her. 
 
 We feel that it is desecration to criticise Ophelia. 
 She is so real a creation and her griefs are so heart- 
 rending that we treat her as we would a loved and 
 living friend, and turn away, burying all her self- 
 revelations, in our hearts, not commenting on them, 
 or revealing them. We can feel about the poor 
 aid much more than we can say. 
 As, Ophelia came into Gertrude's presence, the 
 queen's words — 
 
 To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, 
 Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss : 
 So full of artless jealousy is guilt, 
 It spills itself in fearing to be spilt — 
 
 indicated that the remonstrances of Hamlet have 
 been fruitful in arousing her guilty conscience. We 
 do not see that she is repentant, but we know that 
 she is disturbed, and that is the first step to repent- 
 ance and renunciation. 
 
 \ci 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 237 
 
 When Gertrude and Claudius are left alone, the 
 king makes a show of hypocritical regret over 
 Ophelia's misfortune. I believe he was rejoiced at 
 Polonius's death, not only because it gave him an 
 excuse for Hamlet's removal, but because it silenced 
 one who could have testified to the equivocal man- 
 ner in which he had secured the throne. He is 
 very anxious, however, to impress on Gertrude that 
 all Ophelia's disorder sprung from her father's death 
 — this throws the responsibility for it on her son — 
 and he explicitly reminds the queen that Hamlet is 
 the "most violent author of his own just remove." 
 Claudius is afraid that when he shall in a few days 
 receive the news of Hamlet's assassination, Gertrude 
 may remember that he proposed sending her son 
 away, before the murder had made it seem so neces- 
 sary. 
 
xxiy. 
 
 As the king is telling Gertrude that Laertes has in 
 secret returned from France, and that, surprised at 
 his father's obscure funeral, he is trying to find out, 
 before his return becomes known, what was the 
 cause of Polonius's death, a great noise is heard — the 
 noise of a rabble. Claudius calls on his switzers to 
 guard the door, but a gentleman rushes in crying 
 upon the king to save himself, and hastily explain- 
 ing that Laertes has overborne the ofificers who 
 guard the palace, and is now, at the head of the 
 mob, seeking for the king. Laertes has so inflamed 
 the rabble, he says, that they cry out, " Laertes shall 
 be king." The mob was not ungrateful. It re- 
 membered that Polonius's efforts had placed Claudius 
 on the throne of Denmark ; a violent death had been 
 his reward ; and their unreasoning justice would have 
 snatched the crown away from Claudius, and given 
 it to Polonius's son. 
 
 While the gentleman is speaking, Laertes enters, 
 the Danes following. Laertes begs them to remain 
 without, and, at his request, they withdraw, leaving 
 their leader alone with Gertrude and the king. 
 These two have seen that Laertes can control the 
 mob ; they know that at a word from him the in- 
 flamed populace will be upon them, and now, first, 
 do we behold in the usurper the display of kingly 
 
 238 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 239 
 
 qualities. As Laertes turns from the Danes and 
 flies at Claudius, crying : 
 
 O thou vile king, 
 Give me my father ! 
 
 Gertrude throws herself between them, trying to 
 calm him, but Claudius does not blench or move ; 
 he stands and fronts the danger, and his first words 
 show absolute control of his nerves and of his 
 senses : 
 
 What is the cause, Laertes, 
 
 he says. 
 
 That thy rebelhon looks so giant-like ? 
 
 This he speaks calmly, and in such a measured tone, 
 showing no fear, that Laertes for a moment recoils, 
 and Claudius then addresses Gertrude, who had tried 
 to hold Laertes back, saying : 
 
 Let him go, Gertrude ; do not fear our person : 
 
 There's such divinity doth hedge a king. 
 
 That treason can but peep to what it would. 
 
 Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes, 
 
 Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude. 
 
 Speak, man. 
 
 This is magnificent. At this moment Claudius is 
 " every inch a king." The kingly plural never 
 more fitly represented the multiplied importance of 
 its royal user. Claudius when he spoke thus was 
 the worthy representative of every king that ever 
 was. He did not quail or palliate Laertes's crime — 
 rebellion he plainly called it, and treason — and in- 
 stead of submitting to be questioned he demands a 
 reply of Laertes, and reiterates it in the words : 
 
240 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 "Speak, man." Laertes is amazed, his violent 
 anger, seems unnecessary, and he more calmly 
 asks: 
 
 Where is my father ? 
 
 Dead. 
 
 responds the king, vouchsafing no explanation or 
 appeasing word, but Gertrude, fearing this reply 
 will make Laertes rage again, explains : 
 
 But not by him. 
 
 and the king rebukes her agitation and indicates his 
 own fearlessness by saying : 
 
 Let him demand his fill. 
 
 This is an imposing picture of dignity and regal 
 self-command. Laertes is impressed by it, his 
 wonted reverence for his anointed king controls 
 him, and he feels his anger slip away from him. 
 He, for an instant, thinks of this as witchcraft ; 
 then, returning to his just cause for indignation, 
 he cries : 
 
 How came he dead ? I'll not be juggled with : 
 To hell allegiance ! vows, to the blackest devil ! 
 .Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit ! 
 I dare damnation. To this point I stand, 
 That both the worlds I give to negligence, 
 Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged 
 Most throughly for my father. 
 
 By a few measured words Claudius controls Laer- 
 tes's agitation until he speaks, as Claudius says, 
 "like a good child and a true gentleman;" but be- 
 fore any explanations have been given him a 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 241 
 
 noise is again heard without. It is the Danes 
 crying : 
 
 Let her come in, — 
 
 meaning Ophelia, who re-enters as Laertes asks: 
 
 How now ! what noise is that .' 
 
 I think Ophelia's loss of reason should be more 
 plainly indicated by her representatives, than I have 
 ever seen it. Down-hanging hair and an apron full 
 of flowers are not enough to manifest to a brother 
 that his sister is deranged, and yet Laertes per- 
 ceives it the moment his eyes rest upon Ophelia. 
 In this scene, and the preceding one, Ophelia should 
 wear a black dress. Two months have passed since 
 her father's death. Hamlet was clad in deepest 
 black although his father had not been dead so 
 long, and Laertes is often represented as coming 
 back from France in sable robes. If Ophelia were 
 robed in black, the incongruity between her mourn- 
 ing dress and her festival flowers and bearing would 
 at once suggest a loss of reason, and in the " busi- 
 ness " of her part in this scene and the former one, 
 her recurring references to her father should seem 
 to be suggested to her shattered mind, when her eye 
 is arrested by her unaccustomed black gown. 
 
 Laertes truly loved his sister, and he does not 
 express more than he feels when he sees her 
 " blasted with ecstacy." He approaches to embrace 
 her, and she continuously, evades him, as though he 
 were a stranger, but the tenor of her songs reveals 
 that Laertes's presence has struck some chord of re- 
 membrance. The first one strives to tell him of 
 
242 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 their father's death, and then a spark of recollec- 
 tion kindles the thought, " Bonny sweet Robin is all 
 my joy." Bonny sweet Robin, whom Laertes with 
 his parting words had cautioned her against. 
 
 I do not see why so much attention is devoted to 
 the deciphering of Ophelia's " document in mad- 
 ness." Thoughts and remembrance are fitted with 
 their appropriate flowers — pansies and rosemary : 
 these she gives to Laertes because he is young, and 
 she confounds him with her lover, but it is idle to 
 expect a fitness through all the distribution. She 
 had not gathered the flowers with any idea of point- 
 ing a moral, and only as she gave them did any 
 thought of their name and meaning occur to her. 
 1 We love Ophelia in her derangement even more 
 than before : she is so patient and submissive, so 
 pathetic in the expression of her sorrow ; she so 
 plainly shows her love and her innocence, that we 
 are thankful insanity has made her in some degree 
 insensible to her cause for woe ; that memory has 
 ceased to paint her griefs in all their first distinct- 
 ness._^ 
 
 She sings her little songs, and gives her flowers, 
 and passes from our sight forever with the gentle 
 benediction : 
 
 God ha' mercy on his soul ! 
 And of all christian souls, I pray God, God be wi' ye. 
 
 And, when her watery death has washed from her 
 recollection every stain of sorrow, we heartily rejoice 
 because Death the Deliverer has carried her away 
 from her earthly captivity. 
 
XXV. 
 
 But we must inquire why Shakespeare, when he 
 shows us Ophelia in her madness, presents her 
 exactly as he does. We should be glad if the re- 
 collection of her incoherent words might be a little 
 different. 
 
 This representation of Ophelia is a justification 
 of Hamlet. Without it, lookers-on at the theater 
 might not agree with him, and might feel that his 
 decision to renounce a loving, meek, obedient maid 
 had proved, as no other of his actions could, the 
 possession of a mind diseased. But Hamlet, early 
 in the play, has had many interviews with Ophelia 
 at which we were not present ; he has given many 
 private hours to her ; he has recollections that we 
 know not of, which have helped him in his judgment. 
 Shakespeare wishes to bring his auditors with full 
 consent of their reason to agree with Hamlet, there- 
 fore he shows them Ophelia, when, the sweet re- 
 straints of reason being removed, her songs disclose 
 the burden of her thoughts. Like the 
 
 maicj called Barbara 
 She was in love, and he she loved proved mad 
 And did forsake her : she had a song of "willow "; 
 An old thing 'twas but it express'd her fortune. 
 And she died singing it. 
 
 In the scene with Laertes his presence controls 
 Ophelia's recollections, and confines them almost 
 
 243. 
 
244 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 absolutely to their father, but in the preceding 
 scene the presence of Claudius and Gertrude, who 
 were so closely connected with Hamlet, awakens 
 in her unsettled brain a longing for his love and his 
 caresses, and this she expresses in her songs. 
 
 Critics who have not seen the need for Ophelia's 
 self-disclosure have wondered why Shakespeare 
 should put such loose songs upon her lips. They 
 have justified them by saying that she had heard 
 them in her childhood from her nurse, and that, 
 when reason and recollection were destroyed, her 
 earliest impressions ruled her mind, and she now, 
 with no recognition of their impropriety, sang the 
 songs that had lain voiceless in her memory so 
 many years. This is probably true, but Shakes- 
 peare undoubtedly meant, when he showed us 
 Ophelia "divided from herself and her fair judg- 
 ment," and allowed her to sing such songs, that we 
 should see the natural bent and disposition of her 
 senses, in Order that we might justify Hamlet in his 
 decision. He introduced Ophelia's madness, as he 
 did Lady Macbeth's somnambulism, whose will in 
 sleep could not control her thoughts, or the ex- 
 pression of them. Ophelia had heard other songs 
 in her youth, songs from the Pious Chanson maybe, 
 but she did not give them entertainment in her 
 mind. 
 
 If we be shown two maids, both crazed by the 
 same combination of circumstances, one of whom 
 sings spiritual songs and turns her thoughts toward 
 Heaven, and the other of whom expresses her 
 grief as Ophelia did, shall we not inevitably decide 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 245 
 
 that they differ in disposition, and that the latter 
 is subject to some insubordination of her senses 
 which may in time lead them to mutiny against her 
 virtue ? Shakespeare thought so, and he had faith 
 to believe that with this revelation our judgment 
 would confirm Hamlet's, and free him from too 
 much censure for his rejection of the maiden. We 
 must not forget that Shakespeare chose these songs, 
 as calculated to reveal Ophelia's disposition. He 
 could have selected others, had he wished to do so. 
 It is so ungracious a task to speak of Ophelia in 
 any but words of unqualified admiration, that I feel 
 forced to defend myself for setting down about her 
 what I believe Shakespeare meant to convey ; and 
 the prejudices of Ophelia-lovers are so strong, that 
 unless I explain exactly how much I mean to say, 
 they will conceive that more is meant than I ex- 
 press. \ I believe that Shakespeare meant to portray, 
 in Ophelia, a maiden Avhn was .pure_in_thgught and 
 act, but wh ose disp osition, inclination, n atural ten- 
 den cyj5^_^ensuouSi_jShe was the sensuous North- 
 ern maiden, as Juliet was the sensuous Southern 
 type, and she was absolutely as continent and chaste 
 as Juliet — but not more so ; and I have no doubt 
 that she was also as free and unrestrained in the 
 expression of her love to Hamlet as Juliet was to 
 Romeo. Juliet and Ophelia were alike in natural 
 disposition, but Romeo and Hamlet were unlike".^ 
 While Romeo was moved to instant action the 
 moment an impulse stirred him, Hamlet was self- 
 controlled, and considered their results before he 
 indulged, or even expressed, his desires. Therefore 
 
246 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 he stifled his love for Ophelia, and it was he, not 
 she, who prescribed the lines within which their in- 
 tercourse was carried on. 
 
 Every word which Shakespeare employs for the 
 portrayal of Ophelia's character strengthens this 
 view of it. The subject is so delicate that only light 
 touches can be used in her delineation, but these 
 strokes all lead to the completion of a picture of a 
 maid en who was innoce ntjbec ause she h^ not been 
 ^jnptsd, but who had no backbone of principle or 
 precept to keep her so : — a ma iiifn ^yhnsp own sen- 
 suous nat ure was the traitor that might deliven the 
 treasures in i ts charge to an invadin g_Jib£Jline, had 
 such an one .desixed ^o make conquest of them. It 
 is clear to me that Hamlet belfeved this, and that 
 Shakespeare meant that we too should recognize it. 
 Every introduction of Ophelia deepens the lines of 
 this picture, though almost as imperceptibly as the 
 sun brings out a photograph. 
 
 The first time we see her we are shown that father 
 and brother know her disposition, and strongly fear, 
 that, if tempted, she will indulge it. On her next 
 appearance she tells her father of Hamlet's visit to 
 her chamber early in the morning.^JThis visit was 
 an unpardonable liberty. ^His rerklessnes s did not 
 arise-ifetfar-toadnfis s.. but from the freedo m of his 
 as sociation with Ophe jja^alQng " the primrose path 
 of dalliance ." His_doubts-w:©Ee-tertttFing him, and 
 he desired to xesolv e the m, and knew that she would 
 excuse_a visit th at a sane man would not have 
 dared to pay to a lady-love whose maidenly reserve 
 had commanded his respect. Ophelia excused it 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 247 
 
 instantly, but Polonius could not conceive that any- 
 thing but madness could justify the prince in such 
 an act of presumption. 
 
 The inscription in Hamlet's letter to Ophelia is 
 another effort to delineatp the maiden. Are not the 
 
 words : 
 
 Jn her excellent white b osom, these, &c., 
 
 meant to suggest that Hamlet allowed himself at 
 least a freedom of speech with Ophelia ? To a sen- 
 sitive mind the words do not express exactly the 
 same sentiment as we find in " pure bosom," 
 " gentle bosom," v/hich Shakespeare elsewhere em- 
 ploys ; and to no maiden but Ophelia does Shakes- 
 peare allow a lover to speak or write in such atone; 
 — of her person rather than her qualities. The 
 phrase is allied to Richard's free expression of his 
 desire for Lady Anne : 
 
 So I might live an hour in your sweet bosom. 
 
 As soon as Polonius read the lines, — " In her excel- 
 lent white bosom, these, &c." Gertrude interrupted 
 
 him, asking : 
 
 Came this from Hamlet to her ? 
 
 She can hardly believe that her son would write in 
 this way to any maiden, and Polonius, seeing that 
 she doubts whether the prince had written thus, 
 but does not doubt that he has written, replies: 
 
 Stay awhile, I will be faithful. 
 That is, ' Do not judge so fast ; I will read nothing 
 that he did not write.' 
 
 The fact that Ophelia had this missive is another 
 of Shakespeare's touches. Her father had forbid- 
 
248 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 den her to receive Hamlet's tokens, and she had 
 told him that she "did repel his letters and denied 
 his access," and then, rather than go in person to 
 the king, she had produced this letter, although it 
 was a proof of her disobedience. Understand, I 
 am not blaming her for this, any more than I should 
 blame a red rose for not being white. I only insist 
 that red is red, and that Shakespeare meant us to 
 see it red. 
 
 Hamlet's conversations with Polonius about his 
 daughter are strong helps to our understanding of 
 Ophelia's character, and so is his conversation with 
 her, in the lobby, and at the mock-play. They 
 show that Hamlet, who knew her better than we, 
 believed that her sensuousness might become sen- 
 suality. 
 
 ^^__Qphelia's consenting to encounter Hamlet, by 
 seeming accident, the very day after he had treated 
 her with such great rudeness, and her planning to 
 offer to return his gifts to him, are touches by which 
 she is self-revealed ; and her songs, when insanity has 
 still further loosened the bonds of self-restraint, 
 - expose her natural disposition to usj Even the 
 words used by Horatio and the gentleman in wait- 
 ing on Gertrude add to our conception of Ophelia's 
 character. We understand what the gentleman 
 means though he does not express it plainly, and 
 Horatio, who, while he knows her innocence, yet 
 knows to what " thoughts " her hearers may 
 " botch her words up," advises: 
 
 'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew' 
 Dangerous conjecture in ill-breeding minds. 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 249 
 
 The words with which Gertrude leaves the scene, 
 when Ophelia is going to the lobby to meet Ham- 
 let, are open to the construction that she too en- 
 tertained a doubt as to the purity of their relations. 
 It was natural that her depraved mind should attri- 
 bute evil to others, and she did not believe that 
 disappointed love had any share in producing Ham- 
 let's transformation ; but her words are these : 
 
 And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish 
 
 That your good beauties be the happy cause 
 
 Of Hamlet's wildness : so shall I hope your virtues 
 
 Will bring him to his wonted way again. 
 
 To both your honours. 
 
 After all this, which looks like censure, shall I be 
 excused if I say I think Hamlet was wrong in re- 
 jecting the maiden? if I say that, had he married 
 her, he would have bounded her horizon, and she 
 would have been as absolutely faithful to him as 
 were Imogen or Desdemona to their husbands ? I 
 believe that Hamlet's fidelity to his ideal, which 
 separated him from Ophelia, entailed an unnecessary 
 sacrifice, — a sacrifice to which both were innocent 
 victims. ^Ophelia's love had root, not in her fancy 
 alone but in the very fibre of her- heart ; her reason 
 was destroyed by her efforts iio conceive of and 
 support life without Himlet. Such a love could 
 blossom only once, and would have bloomed for 
 Hamlet onlyj 
 
 This conception of Ophelia does not, in my 
 opinion, dethrone or degrade her: it defines her 
 character with strong lines and enhances the beauty 
 aud pathos of the play. 
 
XXVI. 
 
 Laertes did not follow his sister when she left the 
 royal presence, but he withdrew with Claudius, who, 
 in some other apartment, gave him his version of 
 Polonius's murder, telling him that Hamlet, seized 
 with sudden madness, had killed the chamberlain 
 supposing him to be the king. While Claudius is 
 making this explanation we see Horatio in another 
 room of the castle. Sailors bring him a letter from 
 Hamlet, saying that " it comes from the ambassa- 
 dor that was bound for England." This letter tells 
 Horatio that Hamlet is returned to Elsinore, and is 
 now waiting, in some secluded spot, desirous that 
 his friend shall come to him ; the sailors are to 
 guide him. But they have other letters, one for 
 the king and one for Gertrude ; both are sent to 
 Claudius. We do not know that Gertrude's letter 
 ever reaches her, but we see, in Hamlet's sending it, 
 a proof that he has lost no time in again reminding 
 his mother of his parting admonitions. 
 
 In the next scene we see Claudius when these 
 letters are delivered to him. He has had time to 
 tell Laertes how and when Hamlet had killed Polo- 
 nius, and we now hear him excuse himself for not 
 bringing the prince to punishment. He says he 
 loves Gertrude so dearly that he could not bear to 
 
 250 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 251 
 
 wound her by proceeding against her son. This, 
 his first reason, we know to be untrue, for he is in 
 daily expectation of the news of Hamlet's death, for 
 which he only is responsible. The other reason 
 as he explains it, is that the young prince is so be- 
 loved by his late father's subjects that they would 
 excuse any fault in him, and consider it a virtue ; 
 this, though true in fact, is untrue in its application. 
 But Claudius, finding that Laertes is clamorous for 
 revenge, is just about to confide to him that he has 
 ordered Hamlet's death, when he is interrupted by 
 the messenger who brings the letters which have 
 been sent in by the sailors. Taking them both, his 
 own and the queen's, he tells Laertes : 
 
 You shall hear them. 
 
 His own letter, which he first opens and reads, 
 seems so to have surprised him that he does not read 
 the other. This letter to Claudius differs widely 
 from the grave and thoughtful epistle Hamlet sent 
 to his friend ; it is not the respectful salutation 
 of a son to a father, or a subject to a king. The 
 matter and the manner of it could both be attri- 
 buted to madness, and we see that Hamlet means 
 still to continue, in the presence of his enemies, a 
 behavior which was forced upon him by them. 
 The letter says that " to-morrow " Hamlet will seek 
 to see the king, and Claudius instantly conceives a 
 plan by which Laertes, while he pursues his own 
 revenge, shall free him forever from the dread which 
 Hamlet must inspire so long as he remains upon 
 the earth. This he thinks he can accomplish with- 
 
252 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 out exposing himself to suspicion, which must have 
 touched him had the prince been killed by England : 
 he says : 
 
 I will work him 
 To an exploit, now ripe in my device. 
 Under the which he shall not choose but fall ; 
 And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe, 
 B.ut even his mother shall uncharge the practice 
 And call it accident. 
 
 Claudius has measured Laertes, and he knows his 
 honor is an empty bubble, and that, like his father, 
 he can be employed for a cowardly and knavish 
 undertaking. He explains the exploit which he has 
 devised, and Laertes, to prove that he is ripe for the 
 villainy he is embracing, and fully understands its 
 aim, suggests that the unbated foil, with which he 
 is to stab his former friend, shall be anointed with a 
 deadly poison, which he has by him. The mere 
 ownership of this ointment should convince us that 
 Laertes was not an honorable man. Claudius 
 assents to the double treachery proposed, and then, 
 revolving in his own mind the possibility that 
 Laertes, with all his skill, may not be the better 
 fencer, he sees that a failure on his confederate's 
 part may subject them both to suspicion, and allow 
 time for Hamlet to make his charge against him. 
 In order to make all sure, he suggests that a poi- 
 soned cup shall be prepared, of which the prince 
 shall be induced to drink, and he charges his ally to 
 be violent in his attacks on Hamlet, so that thirst 
 shall surely be induced in him. Just as this com- 
 pact is concluded Gertrude hastily enters, and is 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 253 
 
 greeted by the man who is prepared to lacerate her 
 heart by murdering her only child, with the hypo- 
 critical endearment: 
 
 How now, sweet queen ? 
 
 Gertrude has come to tell them that the fair 
 demented maid, who parted from them so short a 
 time before, is drowned. She tells the story, but 
 she does not manifest emotion, and probably does 
 not feel it. Her perverted mind inserts in the 
 melancholy tale an allusion to the gross name given 
 to Ophelia's flowers by " liberal shepherds," and her 
 whole narration is more florid than sorrow would 
 have made it. 
 
 Her words do not suggest that Ophelia intended 
 to end her own life, and there is nothing in the 
 story to make us believe it. The priests inclined to 
 think so, and, in consequence, refused to bury her 
 except with " maimed rites," but her only fault was 
 that she made no effort to save herself when the 
 " envious sliver broke ": her clouded mind did not 
 perceive that death was imminent. In her last 
 moments, as through all the play, Shakespeare 
 paints Ophelia as the very opposite, in mental 
 quality, to Hamlet. Her life is cut short, as her 
 love and her hope of happiness had been, by her 
 own act, but by an act of whose probable result she 
 was absolutely unconscious. Indeed the whole play 
 is a drama of cross-purposes ; no one act results as 
 its originator intended. 
 
 When Laertes hastens to the spot where his 
 dead sister lies, Claudius, instead of expressing any 
 
254 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 sympathy with this new cause for grief or any 
 sorrow for the maiden, says only : 
 
 Let's follow, Gertrude : 
 How much I had to do to calm his rage ! 
 Now fear I this will give it start again ; 
 Therefore let's follow. 
 
 Ophelia's death is the last of the occurrences of 
 this day with which we are made acquainted : it 
 is the first day of the Third Period. In it we are 
 shown first Ophelia's madness ; then Laertes's re- 
 turn to Denmark ; the receipt by Horatio of his 
 letter from Hamlet ; the delivery of Hamlet's letter 
 to the king ; the perfecting of the plot by which 
 Laertes is to kill the prince ; and last, Ophelia's 
 death. 
 
XXVII. 
 
 On the following day — the last day of the play — 
 we are shown, in Act V. Scene I., the church- 
 yard where the grave-digger is preparing Ophelia's 
 grave. He sings as he digs, and moralizes with his 
 companion. Hamlet and Horatio enter at a dis- 
 tance, and slowly approaching the open grave they 
 watch the delver as he throws out the bones of the 
 forgotten dead. 
 
 Horatio has been with his friend for many hours, 
 probably all the time since the sailors conducted 
 him to him. Communion with his loving friendship 
 has been protection to Hamlet from his own heavy 
 thoughts. Horatio has not plied him with ques- 
 tions, and Hamlet has been glad to rest some hours, 
 forgetting the past and oblivious of the future. His 
 friend's silence was a balm to his wounded sensibili- 
 ties. He has told Horatio only how his return had 
 been accomplished through the sea-fight, and has 
 waited until the morrow to tell him of the fate that 
 had overtaken Rosencrantz and Guildenstern : this 
 he has not yet done, although the morrow has 
 come, the morrow of which Hamlet said in his 
 letter to Claudius, " To-morrow I shall beg leave to 
 see your kingly eyes." This is the day in which he 
 means to end his uncle's life, and at last fulfill his 
 
 255 
 
256 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 obligation to his father's spirit. He has in his pos- 
 session the commission that Claudius gave the two 
 spies, with which to satisfy the populace that their 
 ruler's death was merited, and he knows that the 
 exhibition to his mother of his uncle's treachery 
 toward him, and the repetition of the ghost's story 
 of his previous villainy, will forever separate her 
 heart from her seducer. He did not, instantly on 
 his arrival, hasten to kill the king : he needed time 
 to rest his body and compose his thoughts, and to 
 tell Horatio what his plan was, so that he could 
 count upon his intelligent support when the moment 
 for action had arrived. 
 
 It is not unnatural that the two friends should 
 walk in the churchyard. It is quite possible that 
 Hamlet's first act in the morning was to come to 
 church, to give thanks for his safe return, and to 
 pray for a blessing on the means which he should 
 use to perform what seemed to him a religious 
 duty. He does walk there in a very serious frame 
 of mind, although his volubility exposes the excite- 
 ment which possesses him as he contemplates the 
 death he must so soon inflict. He comments on 
 the skulls the grave-digger unearths, attributing 
 them, in turn, to Cain, who first was guilty of a 
 brother's murder; to a politician, who is now o'er- 
 reached ; to a courtier ; and to a lawyer. All have 
 come to this one rendezvous, and he reflects that a 
 king's skull will soon be added to the gruesome 
 congregation. 
 
 Horatio indulges Hamlet's soliloquizing, answer- 
 ing only "Ay, my lord.", "No, my lord.", until 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 257 
 
 finally their steps are arrested at the open pit. 
 Hamlet questions the grave-digger about his busi- 
 ness, and receives from him some mortuary statis- 
 tics, but in all his questionings his mind reverts 
 to the tenant he is so soon to furnish for another 
 grave. He asks Horatio : 
 
 Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i' the earth? 
 
 Alexander was a greater king than is his uncle, and 
 to this complexion shall Claudius, too, soon come. 
 
 Neither Hamlet nor Horatio knew for whose 
 use the narrow bed they stood by was preparing. 
 Horatio had gone to Hamlet a few hours after he 
 had parted from Ophelia, and no message had 
 brought him word of the tragedy that so soon had 
 overtaken her. There was therefore no reason why 
 he should seek to draw his friend away from the 
 spot, and, while they still linger, the priests in pro- 
 cession ; the body of Ophelia covered on her bier; 
 Laertes and the mourners following ; and the king 
 and queen and their train enter and stand beside 
 the open grave. 
 
 As they approach, Hamlet and Horatio retire 
 behind the neighboring tombs. Hamlet wishes not 
 yet to be seen by the king or queen. He is not 
 inflamed to anger by the sight of his uncle, the time 
 for that is past ; he is now a righteous avenger, and 
 the calmness and strength of an assured mission 
 possess him in the presence of the man he is com- 
 pelled to sacrifice. His judgment tells him that he 
 should not kill him there, in the church-yard, where 
 his death would increase the sorrow of the friends 
 
258 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 who are bringing their dear one to the grave, 
 and he observes the internaent with perfect com- 
 posure. 
 
 He does not remember that Horatio had prob- 
 ably seen Laertes when he before came home from 
 France — Hamlet had not met Horatio until after 
 Laertes's departure — and he now points him out, 
 with the words : 
 
 That is Laertes, 
 A very noble youth. 
 
 ,Thus Hamlet's ingenuous mind judges the man 
 who has already perfected the plot to kill 
 him. He observes the obsequies, until Laertes's 
 words : 
 
 A ministering angel shall my sister be. 
 
 When tb0u liest howling. 
 
 reveal that it is his lost love whom they are here in- 
 terring; then he throws himself into Horatio's arms, 
 crying out under the sharp anguish of the revela- 
 tion : 
 
 What, the fair Ophelia ! 
 
 All his smothered love for her overwhelms him. 
 Death has lifted her above the reach of every 
 earthly taint ; " all that remains of her now is pure 
 womanly," and Hamlet's love for her resumes its 
 sway. When Laertes leaps into his sister's grave, 
 Hamlet advances and claims his right to mourn 
 Ophelia. In all the obliviousness of his grief the 
 words in which he announces himself show that 
 he already sees the crown of Denmark in his 
 possession. His uncle has no right to it, and 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 259 
 
 will soon relinquish it, and Hamlet, realizing this, 
 asserts : 
 
 This is I, 
 Hamlet the Dane. 
 
 The Dane — the King. 
 
 It is impossible fitly to comment on Hamlet's 
 passion at Ophelia's grave ; it is as measureless as 
 was his anguish ; but during the long four months 
 since we saw Hamlet first he has been subject to 
 heavy discipline and has had many and bitter op- 
 portunities for the exercise of self-restraint. Now 
 he clenches his hands and locks his teeth in a vain 
 effort to control himself, but his heart-broken wail: 
 
 I loved Ophelia : forty thousand brothers 
 Could not, with all their quantity of love, 
 Make up my sum. 
 
 must have cleft the sky and reached Ophelia in the 
 upper world. The music of these words, reaching 
 her heart, would far overpower the chorus of the 
 heavenly choirs. 
 
 Hamlet finally recovers his self-command, and, 
 afraid again to lose it, hastens away, Horatio fol- 
 lowing. While his anguish had possessed him the 
 king had made an effort to restrain Laertes from 
 violence toward him, crying : 
 
 O, he is mad, Laertes ! 
 
 and the queen had appealed to Hamlet in Laertes's 
 
 behalf: 
 
 For love of God, forbear him. 
 
 In the modern editions, the queen is also repre- 
 sented as saying to Laertes, and the on-lookers : 
 
26o THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 This is mere madness : 
 And thus awhile the fit will work on him ; 
 Anon, as patient as the female dove, 
 When that her golden couplets are disclosed. 
 His silence will sit drooping. 
 
 I think these lines are wrongly attributed to Ger- 
 trude ; she has never believed in Hamlet's madness, 
 and has never subscribed to the belief in it, except 
 in what she told the king after Polonius's killing — 
 and we know why she did this. In the First Quarto 
 these lines, now given to the queen, are spoken by 
 the king, — 
 
 Forbeare Leartes, now is hee mad, as is the fea, 
 Anone as milde and gentle as a Doue : 
 Therfore a while giue his wilde humour fcope, — 
 
 and in the Folio it is the king who says : 
 
 This is meere Madnesse : 
 And thus awhile the fit will worke on him : 
 Anon as patient as the female Dove, 
 When that her golden Cuplet are disclos'd ; 
 His silence will sit drooping. 
 
 Only the Second Quarto gives this sentence to the 
 queen, but in the First Quarto she does speak some 
 words that are, however, omitted from the Second 
 Quarto and the Folio : 
 
 Alas, it is his madnes makes him thus, 
 And not his heart, Leartes. 
 
 Apart from the consideration that Gertrude does not 
 believe in Hamlet's insanity, (and this she manifests 
 even in this scene, by her question : 
 
 O my son, what theme? 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 261 
 
 to which she expects an answer, and receives it ; 
 and by her exhortation to Hamlet : 
 
 For love of God, forbear him, — 
 
 an exhortation it would be more than useless to ad- 
 dress to a maniac in an outburst of frenzy,) Claudius 
 is much more likely to advance the statement than 
 the queen. He has already excused Polonius's 
 murder by the statement to the Danes that Hamlet 
 is mad, and this he has to adhere to. He fears the 
 priests and courtiers will interfere if Laertes seri- 
 ously attempts to kill the prince, and will rescue 
 him alive ; in which case Hamlet will tell all he 
 knows about his uncle's crime, to free himself from 
 condemnation for Polonius's death — a death meant 
 for the king. This Claudius fears, and his first 
 effort is to restrain Laertes by the cry : 
 
 O, he is mad, Laertes. 
 
 He would be glad to convince the world of this, 
 for then Hamlet's revelation, if it could not be sup- 
 pressed, he could attribute to the delusion of insan- 
 ity. I think these lines — This is mere madness, etc., 
 — should be restored to the king, to whom, in the 
 Folio and the Second Quarto, they are given. In 
 addition to the testimony of the text, we must con- 
 sider that nowhere else does the queen seem to 
 apologize for her son, directly or indirectly : she is 
 always his defender, treating him with love and 
 respectful consideration, espousing his cause against 
 the world. Gertrude would not have consented to 
 be present at the fencing-match if she had believed 
 
262 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 her son insane : she would have known Laertes was 
 exposed to be murdered by Hamlet. 
 
 As Hamlet, attended by Horatio, leaves the circle 
 around the grave, Claudius continues, speaking to 
 Laertes, and not to all the courtiers : 
 
 Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech : 
 We'll put the matter to the present push. 
 
 Turning to the queen he says : 
 
 Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son. 
 
 Then turning back to Laertes he continues : 
 
 This grave shall have a living monument : 
 An hour of quiet shortly shall we see ; 
 Til then, in patience our proceeding be. 
 
 Ophelia's funeral has lately been represented as 
 taking place at night. Burial at night is said to be 
 one of the " maimed rites " to which she was sub- 
 jected, but there is no reason to believe this, and 
 the text of the play indicates the contrary. As 
 we have seen, Claudius, at her grave, says to 
 Laertes : 
 
 Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech : 
 We'll put the matter to the present push. 
 
 The "last night's .speech" was the one in which the 
 plan to kill Hamlet had been elaborated, and the 
 " matter " was the fencing-match, which, as Claudius 
 wished, should furnish a living monument for 
 Ophelia's grave. In fulfillment of his design to 
 " put the matter to the present push," he sent Osric 
 to Hamlet with the challenge as soon as the funeral 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 263 
 
 train had returned to the palace. In the First 
 Quarto he says to Laertes at the grave : 
 Wee'le no longer trifle. 
 This very day fhall Hamlet drinke his laft. 
 For prefently we mcane to fend to him, 
 Therfore Leartes be in readynes. 
 
 And Hamlet says to Osric : 
 
 'tis the breathing time of day with me. 
 All the text indicates that there was no long inter- 
 val between Ophelia's burial and Osric's ineeting 
 with Hamlet in the hall of the castle whither the 
 prince had gone to kill the king, and where the 
 subsequent fencing-match and Claudius's death took 
 place. The coming of Fortinbras and the English 
 ambassadors immediately after the fencing-match, 
 while Hamlet is still alive, strongly supports the 
 belief that the fencing, and consequently the burial 
 which preceded it, took place in the day-time. 
 
 As Hamlet left Ophelia's grave he uttered some 
 words of which I am not assured the critics see the 
 relevancy, and yet, to my mind, they are very signifi- 
 cant. His suffering and agitation were extreme, 
 and his anger had leaped out against Laertes, who 
 had grappled with him in the grave and choked 
 him. Plamlet quickly exhibited great self-control, 
 but it required great effort. At one moment he was 
 about to renew the controversy with Laertes, and 
 approached him saying : 
 
 Hear you, sir ; 
 
 What is the reason that you use me thus .' 
 
 I loved you ever. 
 
 But he immediately recollected himself, and the 
 
264 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 strong motive he had for self-repression closed his 
 lips; he meant to kill the king on the first opportu- 
 nity, and he would not run the risk of being killed 
 under the pretense that he was dangerous. He 
 arrested himself in his speech to Laertes by the 
 thought that shortly he would have fulfilled the 
 ghost's command, and would then be able to explain 
 all his misjudged actions, and he expressed this 
 to the audience by the words : 
 
 but it is no matter ; 
 Let Hercules himself do what he may. 
 The cat will mew and dog will have his day. 
 
 It was Hercules's turn, — the king's turn, then to 
 put him in an equivocal position, but in an hour it 
 would be his ; — the dog would have his day. 
 
 He designed to express this a little later, when 
 the audience might otherwise think his fencing with 
 Laertes was procrastination. 
 
 I am constant to my purposes ; they follow the king's 
 pleasure : if his fitness speaks, mine is ready ; now or whenso- 
 ever, provided I be as able as now. 
 
 Hamlet knew the audience would see the double 
 meaning in this speech, and understand that he was 
 constant to his purpose to kill the king, and it was 
 fit he should express this, on both occasions, even 
 though they were already well assured of it. 
 
XXVIII. 
 
 On the opening of the next scene we see that Ham- 
 let, with Horatio, has gone directly from Ophelia's 
 grave to the castle, there to meet the king as he had 
 the day before announced he meant to do. On the 
 way he has told Horatio what he had before with- 
 held from him — the story of his mother's lapse from 
 virtue, and his consequent decision to renounce 
 Ophelia. He has told him that Polonius mistook 
 his subsequent conduct for love-madness, and hid to 
 gain the testimony to prove it, and that, mistaking 
 him for the king, he had unintentionally killed him. 
 Horatio knew how his friend had been sent away in 
 company with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (he 
 believed, however, that Hamlet went as an ambas- 
 sador to demand England's neglected tribute), and 
 to this knowledge Hamlet alludes when we see him 
 and Horatio, in a hall in the castle; 
 
 So much for this, sir : 
 
 {this being the story he he has been telling him en 
 route) 
 
 now shall you see the other ; 
 You do remember all the circumstance ? 
 
 — all the circumstances that preceded his embarka- 
 tion. Then he briefly tells Horatio all that he had 
 
 265 
 
266 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 been subjected to since his departure ; he exposes 
 the treachery of the king, and justifies himself for 
 having sent Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to death, 
 and finally, speaking of his uncle, asks his friend : 
 
 Does it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon — 
 
 is't not perfect conscience. 
 To quit him with this arm ? and is't not to be damn'd. 
 To let this canker of our nature come 
 In further evil ? 
 
 Horatio, who is as moderate as Hamlet is impas- 
 sioned — and in this difference in their dispositions 
 was the foundation of their friendship — does not 
 reply directly to this question, but says : 
 
 It must be shortly known to him from England 
 What is the issue of the business there. 
 
 and Hamlet rejoins : 
 
 It will be short : the interim is mine ; 
 
 And a man's life's no more than to say ' One." 
 
 But I am very sorry, good Horatio, 
 
 That to Laertes I forgot myself ; 
 
 For, by the image of my cause, I see 
 
 The portraiture of his : I'll court his favours : 
 
 But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me 
 
 Into a towering passion. 
 
 As these words are upon his lips Osric enters, 
 bearing the challenge from the king in Laertes's 
 name. This challenge gives Hamlet an opportunity 
 he had not hoped for to court Laertes's favors; 
 it shows him that Laertes overlooks his agency in 
 Polonius's death, and his violence at Ophelia's 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 267 
 
 grave, and is willing to try a "brother's wager" 
 with him. Hamlet has faith that an opportunity to 
 kill the king will soon arise — if not, he can make 
 one — but his nearest duty is to apologize to his 
 friend. He had proclaimed his love for Ophelia 
 in the presence of the priests and of the court, and 
 he does not now mean to retreat from his confession. 
 I think his words to Laertes — 
 
 I have shot mine arrow o'er the house, 
 And hurt ray brother — 
 and, 
 
 I . . . will this brother's wager frankly play — 
 
 are not purely figurative, but that they express his 
 fraternal feeling toward the brother of his love. 
 
 When Osric has delivered his message, Hamlet 
 accepts the challenge, and says he is willing to play 
 the match at once. He is impatient of any long 
 delay, for he has more important business in hand. 
 He does not play because the king requests it, but 
 because a refusal would throw back Laertes's prof- 
 fered reconciliation, and still farther affront him. 
 
 The king and queen, with all the court, come to 
 the hall to see the fencing. The queen has not yet 
 embraced her son since his return, but throughout 
 the match she shows her tender love in care for his 
 comfort. The king, whose villainy has devised the 
 coming murder, says : 
 
 Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me. 
 
 Hamlet's response, as he grasps Laertes's hand, has 
 been condemned as falsehood. If it were so, then 
 this is not the first time Hamlet has departed from 
 
268 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 the truth — his reply to Rosencrantz and Guilden- 
 stern — 
 
 I cannot . . . make you a wholesome answer: my wit's diseased — 
 
 was equally untrue with this ; but we accepted that 
 answer as justifiable irony, of which the audience 
 saw the true interpretation. Hamlet speaks with the 
 same intention now, but his audience is enlarged by 
 the addition of the king : he also sees the irony of 
 Hamlet's speech, but he dares not take exception to 
 it. Hamlet's first words mean exactly what they 
 say, and are a sufficient apology to Laertes: 
 
 Give me your pardon, sir : I've done you wrong; 
 But pardon't as you are a gentleman. 
 
 The next lines are aimed at the king, to show hitn 
 that Hamlet knows what excuses he must have used 
 to Laertes. He does not know that Claudius has 
 told the youth that the stab which killed Polonius 
 was meant for the king ; he thinks his uncle has with- 
 held this, fearing to be questioned by Laertes as to 
 why Hamlet sought to take his ruler's life, and that 
 he has untruly told him that Hamlet's madness was 
 the only inciter to the deed. Therefore Hamlet 
 continues : 
 
 This presence knows. 
 
 And you must needs have heard, how I am punish 'd 
 
 With sore distraction. 
 
 In this strain he ambiguously expresses the absence 
 of any intention to kill Polonius, concluding: 
 
 Sir, in this audience, 
 Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil 
 Free me so far in your most generous thoughts, 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 269 
 
 That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house, 
 And hurt my brother. 
 
 " In this audience " has a double application ; it 
 means in the presence of the king, who knows the 
 truth, and in the presence of the court, who witness 
 my apology. 
 
 Admitting, as we must, that irony is the weapon 
 with which Hamlet has before defended himself, I do 
 not see why we should expect his words now to con- 
 form exactly to the truth. There is a bitter justice in 
 his using for his excuse the madness Claudius had 
 attributed to him for his condemnation. 
 
 Laertes partially accepts Hamlet's apology, 
 saying : 
 
 I am satisfied in nature, 
 
 Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most 
 
 To my revenge : but in my terms of honour 
 
 I stand aloof ; and will no reconcilement. 
 
 Till by some elder masters, of known honour, 
 
 I have a voice and precedent of peace, 
 
 To keep my name ungored. But till that time, 
 
 I do receive your offer'd love like love, 
 
 And will not wrong it. 
 
 This is Laertes's absolute lie in response to Ham- 
 let's ironical statement. 
 
 We see Laertes only for so short a time, early in 
 the play, that we form no judgment of him, except 
 that he is a loving brother. When he pushes into 
 the king's presence demanding vengeance for his 
 father's murder, we say, " This is a noble son." We 
 are deluded by his loud words, and assume that 
 filial love and reverence animate him to cry ; 
 
270 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 I'll be revenged 
 Most throughly for my father. 
 
 But before he parts from the king he makes most 
 plain that it is not sorrow for his- father's death, but 
 vanity wounded at his obscure obsequies, for which 
 he demands revenge. Formal ostent ation is hi s 
 idol, as it had been his father's. His nature has 
 been so perverted by his education that he receives 
 the king's suggestion to murder Hamlet without 
 surprise or repulsion, and crowns the device with 
 his own more devilish contrivance. The king knew 
 Laertes's nature, and he knew how easily he could 
 work him to this exploit. Laertes's honor was a 
 name and not a thing. His character was the result 
 of Polonius's teachings, and Shakespeare, showing 
 us how easily it was corrupted, helps us to feel sure 
 that Ophelia had no foundation of principle to keep 
 her firm under temptation. 
 
 There is no need to follow the fencing-match to 
 its issue, nor to review the machinery by which the 
 guilty actors in the drama are brought to breathe 
 their life out there upon the stage. All are guilty, 
 though not in the same degree. Claudius has killed 
 his brother and aimed at Hamlet's life ; Hamlet 
 himself has killed Polonius and the king, and pro- 
 cured the deaths of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern ; 
 Laertes has killed Hamlet ; and Gertrude, by her 
 too easy lapse from virtue, has been the incentive 
 and original of all these crimes. All die together. 
 Innocent Ophelia has preceded them to the grave. 
 
 This is not the result Hamlet had pictured to 
 himself when he resolved to obey the ghost's com- 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 271 
 
 mand, and yet it is at last fulfilled to the most re- 
 mote particular. Claudius is killed by Hamlet, and 
 in an " act that has no relish of salvation in it." 
 Thus his brother's foul and most unnatural murder 
 is avenged. The other injunction of the ghost : 
 
 Let not the royal bed of Denmark 
 
 Be a couch for luxury and damned incest. 
 
 is also obeyed, in letter and in spirit. The queen's 
 dying words — 
 
 No, no, the drink, the drink, — O my dear Hamlet, — 
 The drink, the drink ! I am poison'd — 
 
 which she spoke in repudiation of Claudius's state- 
 ment — 
 
 She swounds to see them bleed — 
 
 show that she knows the king's treachery and would 
 be glad to have him suffer for it. In dying Gertrude 
 is eternally divorced from Claudius, and by her own 
 will. The ghost's revenge is complete. 
 
 If it did not appear that Hamlet had been the 
 instrument to accomplish this, all his sufferings and 
 Ophelia's would seem without result; but we recog- 
 nize th^tjjbinletj^yis it to Ophelia'schamber — his 
 first act as the direct_result of the ghost's revelation 
 —has been the cause of all that follows. His obe- 
 dience and his efforts to obey do not result as he 
 intended, but for this we should have been pre- 
 pared. After the catastrophe we remember that 
 Shakespeare has given us many hints that the end 
 would not be that which Hamlet proposed in the 
 beginning. The player king says: 
 
272 THE TRUE STORY OF 
 
 Purpose is but the slave to memory. 
 
 Of violent birth, but poor validity : 
 
 Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree ; 
 
 But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. 
 
 What to ourselves in passion we propose. 
 The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. 
 
 Our wills and fates do so contrary run 
 
 That our devices still are overthrown. 
 
 Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. 
 
 Claudius says to Laertes : 
 
 That we would do. 
 We should do when we would ; for this ' would ' changes 
 And hath abatements and delays as many 
 As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents : 
 
 Hamlet says to Horatio : 
 
 Let us know. 
 Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, 
 When our deep plots do pall. 
 
 And: 
 
 There's a divinity that shapes our ends 
 Rough-hew them how we will. 
 
 This constant obtrusion, in so many forms, of the 
 thought, " Man proposes but God disposes," should 
 have made us suspect that Hamlet would not exe- 
 cute the ghost's command in the way in which he 
 thought to accomplish it. In truth, the Tragedy of 
 Hamlet is a dramatization of defeat. With the ex- 
 ception of Hamlet, none of the characters in any 
 way accomplish what they set out to do. 
 
 The death of Hamlet is his crowning victory. 
 How should he submit to live accompanied by the 
 
HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 273 
 
 ghosts of Claudius, his mother, Polonius, Ophelia, 
 his sometime friend Laertes, and his school-fellows, 
 Rosencrantz and Guildenstern? These are the com- 
 panions who would have peopled Hamlet's hours of 
 solitude. In the presence of his God, who would 
 judge the heart, and not alone the actions, he might 
 hope to be freed from them forever. 
 
 Hamlet's last words are uttered to his tried and 
 true friend. They command Horatio to make clear 
 to the world what Hamlet had planned to do and 
 had done, and what were the causes for his actions. 
 
 He says : 
 
 Horatio, I am dead ; 
 Thou livest ; report me and my cause aright 
 To the unsatisfied. 
 For a moment it seems as if Horatio's love will 
 not bear the test imposed on it. To live without 
 Hamlet is so much harder than to die for or with 
 him. He seizes the goblet from which his friend 
 had drunk his death, exclaiming: 
 Never believe it : 
 I am more an antique Roman than a Dane : 
 Here's yet some liquor left, 
 
 but Hamlet,, making a last supreme effort, wrenches 
 it from him, and begs him, by the love that has so 
 firmly united them, to suffer to live a little longer. 
 As thou'st a man. 
 
 Give me the cup : let go ; by heaven I'll have it. 
 
 O good Horatio, what a wounded name. 
 
 Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me ! 
 
 If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, 
 
 Absent thee from felicity awhile, 
 
 And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, 
 
 To tell my story. 
 
274 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 
 
 Horatio's unselfish affection accepts this duty, 
 and he sums up the story of the play in a few 
 words when he says to Fortinbras, and the English 
 ambassadors : 
 
 And let me speak to the yet unknowing world 
 How these things came about : so shall you hear 
 Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, 
 O f accidental judgements, c asual slaughters. 
 Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause. 
 And, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
 Fall'n on the inventors' heads ; all this can I 
 Truly deliver. 
 
 This speech contains, in the order in which they 
 occurred, the epitome of every incident in the play. 
 Who can doubt that the words, " accidental judge- 
 ments," refer to Hamlet's judgment of Ophelia, 
 which resulted from the ghost's revelation of Ger- 
 trude's impurity ? If they do not relate to this, to 
 what do they allude? to what other episode early 
 in the play can they refer ? 
 
 The " carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts," are 
 fratricide and adultery; the "casual slaughter " is 
 the murder of Polonius ; "deaths put on by cun- 
 ning and forced cause " means the killing of Rosen- 
 crantz and Guildenstern by England ; and the clos- 
 ing lines " and, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
 fall'n on the inventors' heads," refer to Claudius's 
 and Laertes's death by the means which they had 
 prepared to remove Hamlet. Accidental judgements 
 refers to something other than any of these occur- 
 rences. Does it not point directly to Hamlet's 
 answer to the question, " And shall I couple ? " 
 
THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET. 
 
THE 
 
 H YST O R I E 
 
 OF HAMBLET 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Imprinted by Richard Bradocke, for Thomas Pauier, 
 and are to be sold at his shop in Corne-hill, neere to 
 the Royall Exchange. 
 
 1608. 
 
THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 It is not at this present, neither yet a small time 
 since, that enuy raigning in the worlde ; hath in such 
 sort blinded men, that without respect of consan- 
 guinitie, friendship, or fauour whatsoeuer, they for- 
 get themselues so much ; as that they spared not to 
 defile their hands with the blood of those men, who 
 by all law and right they ought chiefly to defend and 
 cherish. For what other impression was it, that en- 
 tered into Romulus heart, when under pretence of 
 I know not what lawe, he defiled his hands with the 
 blood of his owne brother, but the abhominable vace 
 of desire to raigne ? which if in all the accurrences, 
 prosperities, and circumstances thereof, it were well 
 wayed and considered, I know not any man that 
 had not rather Hue at his ease, and priuately with- 
 out charge, then being feared and honored of all 
 men ; to beare all the charge and burden vpon his 
 shoulders ; to serue and please the fantasies of the 
 common people ; to Hue continually in feare, & to 
 see himself exposed to a thousand occasions of dan- 
 ger; and most commonly assailed and spoiled, when 
 hee thinkes verily to hold Fortune as slaue to his 
 fantasies & will : & yet buyes such and so great mis- 
 ery, for the vaine & fraile pleasures of this world, 
 with the losse of his owne soule : making so large a 
 measure of his conscience, that it is not once mooued 
 at any murther, treason, deceit, nor wickedness what- 
 soeuer he committed, so the way may be opened and 
 made plaine vnto him, whereby hee may attaine to 
 
 278 
 
ARGUMENT^ 279 
 
 that miserable filicitie, to command and gouerne a 
 multitude of men (as I said of Romulus) who by a 
 most abhominable action, prepared himselfe a way 
 to heauen (but not by vertue.) 
 
 The ambitious and seditious Orator of Rome, 
 supposed the degrees and steps to heaven, & the 
 wayes to vertue, to consist in the treasons, rauish- 
 ments, & massacres committed by him, that first 
 layd the foundations of that citty. And not to leaue 
 the hystories of Rome ; what, I pray you incited An- 
 cius Martinus, to massacre Tarquin the Elder, but 
 the desire of raigning, as a king : who before had 
 bin the onely man to moue and solicite the saide 
 Tarquinius, to bereaue the righte heires and inher- 
 iters thereof? What caused Tarquinius the Proud, 
 traiterously to imbrue his hands in the blood of Ser- 
 vius TuUius, his father in law, but onely that fumish 
 and unbridled desire, to be commander ouer the 
 cittie of Rome? which practice neuer ceased nor dig- 
 continued, in the said principal cittie of the empire, 
 as long as it was gouerned by the greatest & wisest 
 personages, chosen and elected by the people: for 
 therein haue beene seen infinite numbers of seditions, 
 troubles, pledges, ransommings, confiscations and 
 massacres, onely proceeding from this ground and 
 principle: which entereth into mens hearts, & mak- 
 eth them couet and desirous to be heads and rulers 
 of a whole common wealth. And after the people 
 were depriued of that libertie of Election, and that 
 the Empire became subiect to the pleasure & fan- 
 tasie of one man, commanding al the rest, I pray 
 you peruse their bookes, and read diligently their 
 Hystories ; and do but looke into the meanes vsed 
 by the most part of their kings and Emperours, to 
 attaine to such power and authoritie : and you shall 
 see how poysons, massacres, and secret murthers, 
 were the meanes to push them forwards, that durst 
 not openly attempt it, or else could not compasse to 
 
28o ARGUMENT. 
 
 make open warres. And for that the Hystory 
 (which I pretend to shew vnto you) is chiefly 
 grounded vpon treason, committed by one brother 
 against the other ; I will not erre far out of the 
 matter: thereby desiring to shew you, that it is and 
 hath been a thing long since practised and put in 
 vse by men, to spill the blood of their neerest kins- 
 men and friends, to attaine to the honour of being 
 great and in authoritie, and that there hath bin some, 
 that being impatient of staying till their iust time of 
 succession, haue hastened the death of their owne 
 parents ; as Absolon would haue done to the holy 
 king Dauid his father : and as wee read of Domitian, 
 that poysoned his brother Titus, the most curtious 
 and liberall Prince that euer swayed the empire of 
 Rome. And God knowes we haue many the like 
 examples in this our time, where the sonne conspired 
 against the father : for that Sultan Zelin, Emperour 
 of Turkes, was so honest a man, that fearing Baia- 
 zeth his father, would die of his naturall death, and 
 that thereby he should haue stayd too long for the 
 Empire, bereaued him of his life: and Sultan Soli- 
 man his successor, although he attempted not any 
 thing against his father, yet being mooued with a 
 certaine feare to bee deposed from his Emperie, 
 & bearing a hatred to Mustapha his son (incited 
 therunto by Rustain Bassa whom the lewes en- 
 emies to the yong prince, had by gifts procured 
 therunto) caused him to be strangled with a bowe 
 stringe, without hearing him (that neuer had of- 
 fended his father) once speake to iustifie his inno- 
 cencie. But let vs leave the Turkes like barbarians 
 as they are, whose throne is ordinarily establFshed 
 by the effusion of the blood of those that are neerest 
 of kindred and consanguinitie to the Empire, & con- 
 sider what Tragedies haue bin plaid to the like ef- 
 fect, in the memorieof our Ancestors, and with what 
 charitie and love the neerest kindreds and friendes 
 
ARGUMENT. 281 
 
 among them haue bin intertained; one of the other, 
 if you had not the Hystories extant before you, if 
 the memorie were not in a manner fresh, & known 
 almost to euery man, I would make a long discourse 
 thereof : but- things being so cleare and euident, the 
 truth so much discouered, & the people almost as it 
 were glutted with such treasons, I will omit them 
 & follow my matter, to shew you ; that if the iniqui- 
 tie of a brother, caused his brother to loose his life, 
 yet that vengeance was not long delayed : to the 
 end that traitors may know, although the punish- 
 ment of their trespasses committed, be stayed for 
 awhile, yet that they may assure themselues, that 
 without all doubt, they shal neuer escape thepuisant 
 and revenging hand of God : who being slow to an- 
 ger, yet in the ende doth not faile to shew some 
 signes and euident tokens of his fearefull iudgement, 
 vpon such as forgetting their duties, shed innocent 
 blood, and betray their Rulers, whon^Jiey ought 
 chiefly to honour, serue, and reuerence. 
 
THE PREFACE. 
 
 Although in the beginning of this Hystorie, I had 
 determined not to haue troubled with any other 
 matter, than a Hystorie of our owne time, hauing 
 sufficient tragical! matter to satisfie the minds of 
 men : but because I cannot wel discourse thereof, 
 without touching many personages, whom I would 
 not willingly displease ; and partly because the Ar- 
 gument that I haue in hand, seemed vnto me a 
 thing worthy to bee offered to our French nobilitie 
 for the great & gallant accurrences therein set 
 downe : I haue somewhat strayed from my course, 
 as touching the Tragedies of this our age : and, 
 starting out of France and ouer Neitherlanders 
 countries, I haue ventured to visit the Hystories of 
 Denmarke, that it may serue for an example of ver- 
 tue and contentment to our Nation (whom I spe- 
 cially seeke to please), and for whose satisfaction, I 
 haue not left any flower whatsoeuer vntasted, from 
 whence I haue not drawne the most perfect and del- 
 icate hony, thereby to bind them to my diligence 
 herein ; n'ot caring for the ingratitude of the time 
 present, that leaueth (and as it were reiecteth) with- 
 out recompence, such as serue the Common-wealth, 
 and by their trauell and diligence honourtheir coun- 
 trey, and illustrate the Realme of France ; so that 
 often times the fault proceedeth rather from them, 
 then from the great personages that haue other 
 affaires which withdraw them from things that 
 seeme of small consequence. Withall, esteeming 
 
 282 
 
PREFACE. 283 
 
 my selfe more than satisfied in this contentment and 
 freedome which I now enioy, being loued of the 
 Nobilitie, for whom I trauell without grudging ; fau- 
 oured of men of learning & knowledge, for admiring 
 & reuerencing them according to their worthinesse, 
 and honoured of the common people, of whom al- 
 though I craue not their iudgement, as not esteem- 
 ing them of abilitie, to eternize the name of a worthy 
 man, yet I account my selfe sufificiently happy to 
 haue attained to this felicitie, that fewe or no men 
 refuse, or disdaine to reade my workes, many admir- 
 ing and wondering thereat: as there are some, that 
 prouoked by enuie, blame and condemne it. To 
 whom I confesse my selfe much bound and behold- 
 ing, for by that their meanes, I am the more vige- 
 lant, and so by my trauell much more beloued and 
 honored then euer I was : which to mee is the great- 
 est pleasure that I can inioy, and the most abun- 
 dant treasures in my coffers, wherewith I am more 
 satisfied and contented, then (if without comparison) 
 I enioyed the greatest treasures in all Asia. Now 
 returning to our matter, let vs beginne to declare 
 the Hystorie. 
 
The Hystorie of Hamblet 
 
 Prince of Denmarke. 
 
 CHAPTER. I. 
 
 How Horuendile and Fengon were made Gouenours 
 of the Prouince of Dittnarse, and how Horuendile 
 marryed Geruth, the daughter to Roderick, chief 
 K. of Denmark : by whom he had Hamblet : and 
 how after his marriage his brother Fengon slewe 
 him trayterously, and marryed his brothers wife, 
 and what followed. 
 
 YOU must vnderstand, that long time before the 
 Kingdome of Denmark receiued the faith of 
 TheDanes lesus Christ, and imbraced the doctrin of the 
 baflS?ou^^^' Christians, that the common people in those dayes 
 and vnciuiii. ^^j.^ barbarous & vncivill, and their Princes cruell, 
 without faith or loyaltie : seeking nothing but mur- 
 Thecruei-ther, and deposing (or at the least) offendinsr each 
 other; either in honours, goods, or lives: not car- 
 ing to ransome such as they tooke prisoners, but 
 rather sacrificing them to the cruell vengeance, 
 naturally imprinted in their hearts ; in such 
 sort, that if ther were sometimes a good prince, 
 or king among them, who beeing adorned with 
 the most perfect gifts of nature, would adict 
 himselfe to vertue, and vse courtesie, although the 
 
 284 
 
 tie of the 
 Dane^. 
 
THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET. 285 
 
 people held him in admiration (as vertue is admira- 
 ble to the most wicked) yet the envie of his neigh- 
 bors was so great, that they never ceased until! that 
 vertuous man, were dispatched out of the world. 
 King Rodericke, as then raigning in Denmarke, ,.^°'J'=g'='"= 
 after hee had appeased the troubles in the countrey, marke. 
 and driuen the Sweathlanders and Slaueans from 
 thence, he diuided the kingdom into diuers Pro- 
 uinces, placing Governours therein : who after (as 
 the like happened in France) bare the names of 
 Dukes, Marqueses, & Earls, gluing the government 
 of Jutie (at this present called Ditmarsse) lyine Jutieatthis 
 
 •^ 1 ^ ^ f ^. . . . K ■/ ^ time, called 
 
 vpon the countrey of Cimbnans, m the straight or then du- 
 narrow part of land, that sheweth like a point or '""''^'■ 
 cape of ground vpon the sea, which neithward 
 bordereth vpon the countrey of Norway. Two 
 valiant & warlike Lords, Horuendile and Fengon, 
 sonnes to Geruendile, who likewise had beene 
 gouernour of that Prouince. Now the greatest 
 honor that men of noble birth could at that time 
 win and obtaine, was in exercising the art of Piracie 
 vpon the seas ; assayling their neighbours, & the 
 countries bordering upon them : and how much 
 the more they vsed to rob, pill, and spoyle other 
 Prouinces, and Hands farre -adjacent, so much the 
 more their honours and reputation increased and 
 augmented : wherein Horuendile obtained the high- Homendiie 
 est place in his time, beeing the most renouned pirL"!.^" 
 pirate that in those dayes scoured the seas, & hauens 
 of the North parts : whose great fame, so mooued 
 the heart of Collere, king of Norway, that he was Coiiereking 
 much grieued to heare that Horvendile surmounting" °™^'^- 
 him in feates of armes, thereby obscuring the glory 
 by, him alreadie obtained vpon the seas: (honor 
 more than couetoushesse of richer, (in those dayes) 
 being the reason that prouoked those barbarian 
 princes, to ouerthrow and vanquish one the other ; 
 not caring to be slaine by the handes of a victorious 
 
286 THE HYSrORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 person. This valiant and hardy king, hauing chal- 
 lenged Horuendile to fight with him body to body, 
 the combate was by him accepted, with conditions, 
 that hee which should be vanquished, should loose 
 all the riches he had in his ship, and that the van- 
 quisher should cause the body of the vanquished 
 (that should bee slaine in the combate) to be honour- 
 ably buried, death being the prise and reward of 
 him that should loose the battaile : and to conclude, 
 Collere, king of Norway (although a valiant, hardy, 
 and couragious prince) was in the end vanquished 
 skwCoilere ^"*^ ^^^'"^ by Horuendile: who presently caused a 
 Tombe to be erected, and therein (with all honora- 
 ble obseques fit for a prince) buried the body of 
 king Collere, according to their auncient manner, 
 and superstitions in those dayes, and the conditions 
 of the combate, bereauing the Kings shippes of all 
 their riches, and hauing slaine the kings sister, a 
 very braue and valiant warriour, and ouerrunne all 
 the coast of Norway, and the Northren Hands, 
 returned home againe layden with much treasure, 
 sending the most part thereof to his soueraigne, 
 king Rodericke, thereby to procure his good liking, 
 and so to be accounted one of the greatest 
 fauourites about his maiestie. 
 
 The King allured by those presents, and esteem- 
 ing himselfe happy to haue so valiant a subiect, 
 sought by a great fauour and coutesie, to make 
 sonn^to""'^' ^™ become bounden vnto him perpetually, gluing 
 Horuendile. him Gerutli his daughter to his wife, of whom he 
 knew Horvendile to bee already much inamored : 
 and the more to honor him, determined himselfe in 
 person to conduct her into Jutie, where the marriage 
 was celebrated according to the ancient manner : 
 and to be briefe, of this marriage proceeded Ham- 
 blet, of whom I intend to speake, and for his cause 
 haue chosen to renew this present Hystorie. 
 
 Fengon brother to this Prince Horuendile, who 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARJCE. 287 
 
 [not] ' onely fretting and despighting in his heart 
 at the great honor and reputation wonne by his 
 brother in warlike affaires, but solicited and pro- Fengon.his 
 uoked (by a foolish jelousie) to see him honored againsrhfs 
 with royall aliance, and fearing thereby to bee de-''™"'"' 
 posed from his part of the gouernment : or rather 
 desiring to be onely Gouernor: thereby to obscure 
 the memorie of the victories and conquests of his 
 brother Horuendile ; determined (whatsoeuer hap- 
 pened) to kill him. Which hee effected in such 
 sort, that no man once so much as suspected him, 
 euery man esteeming that from such and so firme a 
 knot of alliance and consanguinitie, there could pro- 
 ceed no other issue than the full effects of vertue 
 and courtesie : but (as I sayd before) the desire of 
 bearing soueraigne, rule and authoritie, respecteth 
 neither blood nor amitie, nor caring for vertue as 
 being wholly without respect of lavves, or maiestie 
 diuine : for it is not possible that hee which inuadeth 
 the countrey & taketh away the riches of an other 
 man without cause or reason, should know, or feare 
 God. Was not this a craftie and subtile Counsellor ? 
 but he might haue thought that the mother, know- 
 ing her husbands case, would not cast her sonne into 
 the danger of death. But Fengon, hauing secretly 
 assembled certain men, & perceiuing himself strong 
 enough to execute his interprise, Horuendile, his 
 brother being at a banquet with his friends, 
 sodainely set vpon him, where he slewe him ^s j^.jjJ="g°.o 
 traiterously, as cunningly he purged himselfe of so brother, 
 detestable a murther to his subiects : for that before 
 he had any violent or bloody handes, or once com- 
 mitted parricide vpon his brother, hee had incestu- 
 ously abused his wife, whose honour hee ought as 
 well to haue sought and procured, as traiterously he 
 pursued and effected his destruction ; and it is most 
 
 ' \_Not, not in the text.] 
 
288 THE HYSTOKIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 certaine, that the man that abandoneth himselfe to 
 any notorious and wicked action, whereby he be- 
 commeth a great sinner, hee careth not to commit 
 much more haynous and abhominable offences, & 
 couered his boldnesse and wicked practise with so 
 great subtiltie and policie, and vnder a vaile of meere 
 simplicitie, that beeing fauoured for the honest loue 
 that hee bare to hissister in lawe, for whose sake hee 
 afifirmed, he had in that sort murthered his brother, 
 that his sinne found excuse among the common 
 people, & of the Nobilitie was esteemed for iustice : 
 for that Geruth being as courteous a princesse, as any 
 then liuing in the North parts, and one that had 
 neuer once so much as offended any of her subiects, 
 either commons or Courtyers ; this adulterer and 
 infamous murtherer, slaundered his dead brother, 
 that hee would have slaine his wife, and that hee by 
 chance finding him vpon the point ready to doe it, 
 in defence of the Lady had slaine him, bearing off 
 the blows which as then hee strooke at the innocent 
 Princesse, without any other cause of malice whatso- 
 euer : wherein hee wanted no false witnesses to 
 approoue his act, which deposed in like sort, as the 
 wicked calumniator himselfe protested, being the 
 same persons that had born him company, & were 
 participants of his treason, so that instead of pursu- 
 sianderers ing him as a paricide & an incestuous person, al the 
 Murcdln Courtyers admired and flattered him in his good 
 court then fortune: making more account of false witnesses 
 
 vcrtuous 
 
 persons. and detestable wicked reporters, and more honouring 
 
 the calumniators, then they esteemed of those that 
 
 seeking to call the matter in question, and admiring 
 
 the vertues of the murthered Prince, would hauepun- 
 
 The incestu- ishcd the massacrers and bereauers of his life. Which 
 
 of FCTgon^^ was the cause that Fengon, boldned and incouraged 
 
 there wlf^"' ^y ^'^'^^ impunitie, durst venture to couple himselfe in 
 
 marriage with her, whom hee vsed as his. Concubine 
 
 during good Horuendiles life, in that sort spot- 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 289 
 
 ting his name with a double vice, and charging his 
 conscience with abhominable guilt, and two fold 
 impietie, as incestuous adulterie, and parricide 
 murther: and that the vnfortunate and wicked 
 woman, that had receaued the honour to bee the 
 wife of one of the valiantest and wisest Princes in 
 the North, imbased her selfe in such vile sort, as to 
 falsifie her faith vnto him, and which is worse, to 
 marrie him, that had bin the tyranous murtherer of 
 her lawfuU husband : which made diuers men thinke, 
 that she had beene the causer of the murther, thereby 
 to Hue in her adultery without controle. But where 
 shall a man finde a more wicked & bold woman, 
 then a great personage, once hauing loosed the 
 bands of honor and honestie : This Princesse who 
 at the first, for her rare vertues and courtesies was 
 honored of al men, and beloued of her husband, as 
 soone as she once gaue eare to th^ tyrant Fengon, 
 forgot both the ranke she helde among the greatest 
 dames, and the dutie of an honest wife on her be- 
 halfe. But I will not stand to gaze and meruaile at 
 women : for that there are many which seeke to 
 blase and set them foorth : in which their writings, 
 they spare not to blame them all for the faults of 
 some one, or fewe women. But I say, that either 
 Nature ought to haue bereaued man of that opinion 
 to accompany with women, or els to endow them ,, 
 
 with such spirits, as that they may easily support 
 the crosses they endure, without complaining so 
 often and so strangel)'', seeing it is their owne beast- 
 linesse that ouerthrowes them. For if it be so, that ," ^ ""5"?^ 
 
 ' decerned by 
 
 a woman IS so imperfect a creature, as they make a woman, it 
 her to be: and that they know this beast, to bee so beastUnesse! 
 hard to bee tamed as they afifirme : why then are 
 they so foolish to preserue them, and so dull and 
 brutish as to trust their deceitfuU and wanton im- 
 braceings. But let us leaue her in this extreamitie 
 of laciuiousnesse, and proceed to shewe you, in what 
 
290 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 sort the yong Prince Hamlet behaued himselfe, to 
 escape the tyranny of his vncle. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 How Hamblet counterfeited the mad man, to escape 
 the tyrannic of his vncle, and how he was tempted 
 by a woman {through his vncles procurement^ 
 who thereby thought to vndermine the Prince, and 
 by that meanes to finde out whether he counter- 
 feited madnesse or not : and how Hamblet would 
 by no meanes bee brought to consent vnto her ; and 
 what followed. 
 
 Gervth hauing (as I sayd before) so much forgot- 
 ten herself, the Prince Hamblet perceiuing him 
 selfe to bee in danger of his life, as beeing aban- 
 doned of his owne mother, and forsaken of all men; 
 and assuring himselfe that Fengon would not detract 
 the time, to send him the same way his father Hor- 
 uendile was gone : to beguile the tyrant in his sub- 
 tilties (that esteemed him to bee of such a minde, 
 that if he once attained to mans estate, he wold 
 not long delay y® time to reuenge the death of his 
 father), counterfeiting the mad man with such craft 
 & subtill practises, that he made shewe as if hee had 
 vtterly lost his wittes : and vnder that vayle hee 
 couered his pretence, and defended his life from the 
 treasons and practises of the tyrant his vncle. And 
 all though hee had beene at the schoole of the 
 Romane Prince, who because hee counterfeited him- 
 selfe to bee a foole, was called Brutus : yet hee 
 imitated his fashions, and his wisedom. For euery 
 day beeing in the Queenes Palace (who as then was 
 more carefull to please her whoremaster, then ready 
 to reuenge the cruell death of her husband, or to 
 restore her sonne to his inheritance) hee rent and 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 291 
 
 tore his clothes, wallowing and lying in the durt and 
 mire, his face all filthy and blacke, running through 
 the streets like a man distraught, not speaking one 
 worde, but such as seemed to proceede from mad- 
 nesse, and meere frenzie, all his actions and iestures 
 beeing no other, then the right countenances of a ' 
 man wholly depriued of all reason and vnderstand- 
 ing: in such sort, that as then hee seemed fitte for 
 nothing, but to make sport to the Pages and ruffling 
 Courtiers, that attended in the court of his vncle 
 and father in law. But the yong Prince noted them 
 well enough, minding one day to bee reuenged in 
 such manner, that the memorie thereof should 
 remaine perpetually to the world. 
 
 Beholde, I pray you, a great point of a wise, and 
 braue spirite in a yong Prince, by so great a shewe 
 of imperfection in his person for aduancement, and 
 his ow-ne imbasing and despising, to v/orke the 
 meanes and to prepare the way for himselfe to bee 
 one of the happiest Kings in his age. In like sort, 
 neuer any man was reputed by any of his actions 
 more wise and prudent then Brutus, dissembling a.^^'u^es- 
 
 .^.,. . . f. ,, V teemed wise, 
 
 great alteration iti his minde, for that the occasion for counter- 
 of such his deuise of foolishnesse, proceeded onely fooi'e"5 Read 
 of a good and mature counsell and deliberation ; not 2„d"Haiicar! 
 onely to preserue his goods, and shunne the rage of "^ssus. 
 the proude Tyrant, but also to open a large way to 
 procure the banishment and vtter ruine of wicked 
 Tarquinius, and to infranchise the people (which 
 were before oppressed) from the yoake of a great 
 and miserable seruitude. And so not onely Brutus, 
 but this man and worthy prince, to whom wee may 
 also adde King David, that counterfeited the maddeP^u'dcoun: 
 
 t> ' r T» 1 • terfeited thfe 
 
 man among the petie kings of ralestina, to preserue mad man, 
 his life from the subtill practises of those kings. I Arches. '"^ 
 shew this example, vnto such as beeing offended 
 with any great personage, haue not sufficient meanes 
 to preuaile in their intents, or reuenge the iniurie 
 
292 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 by them receiued : but when I speake of reuenging 
 any iniury receiued, vpon a great personage, or 
 Rom. 8. 21. superior : it must be vnderstood by such an one as 
 is not our soueraigne, againste whome wee maieby 
 no meanes resiste, nor once practise anie Treason 
 nor conspiracie against his life : and hee that will 
 followe this course, must speake and doe all things 
 whatsoeuer that are pleasing and acceptable to him 
 whom hee meaneth to deceiue, practise his actions, 
 and esteeme him aboue all men, cleane contrarye to 
 his owne intent and meaning ; for that is rightly to 
 playe and counterfeite the foole, when a man is con- 
 strained to dissemble, and kisse his hand, whome 
 in hearte hee could wishe an hundred foote depth 
 vnder the earth, so hee mighte neuer see him more : 
 if it v/ere not a thing wholly to bee disliked in a 
 christian, who by no meanes ought to haue a bitter 
 gall, or desires infected with reuenge. Hamblet in 
 this sorte counterfeiting the maddeman, many times 
 did diuers actions of great and deepe consideration, 
 and often made such and so fitte answeres, that a 
 wise man would haue iudged from what spirite so 
 fine an inuention might proceede ; for that standing 
 by the fire and sharpning sticks like poynards and 
 prickes, one in smiling manner asked him wherefore 
 he made those little staues so sharpe at the points, I 
 A subtiii prepare (saith he) piersing dartes, and sharpe ar- 
 PriiTceHam- rowes, to reuenge my fathers death, fooles as I said 
 let. before, esteemed those his words as nothing ; but 
 
 men of quicke spirits, and such as hadde a deeper 
 reache began to suspect somewhat, esteeming that 
 vnder that kinde of folly there lay hidden a great 
 and rare subtilty, such as one day might bee preiu- 
 diciall to their prince, saying that vnder colour of 
 such rudenes he shadowed a crafty poUicy, and by 
 his devised simplicitye, he concealed a sharp and 
 pregnant spirit, for which cause they counselled the 
 king to try & know if it were possible, how to dis- 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 293 
 
 couer y® intent & meaning of y° yong prince, & 
 they could find no better, nor more fit inuention to 
 intrap him, then to set some faire, and beawtifull 
 woman in a secret place, that with flattering speeches 
 and all the craftiest meanes she could vse, should 
 purposely seek to allure his mind to haue his pleas- 
 ure of her : for the nature of all young men (speci- 
 ally such as are brought vp wantonlie) is so trans- Naturecor- 
 ported with the desires of the flesh, and entreth so man!" 
 greedily into the pleasures therof, that it is almost 
 impossible to couer the foul affection neither yet to 
 dissemble or hyde the same by art or industry, much 
 lesse to shunne it. What cunning or subtilty so 
 euer they vse to cloak theire pretence, seeing occa- 
 sion offered, and that in secret, specially in the most 
 inticing sinne that rayneth in man, they cannot 
 chuse (being constrayned by voluptuousnesse), but 
 fall to naturall effect and working. To this end cer- Subtiities 
 taine courtiers were appointed to leade Hamblet couer 'nfml 
 into a solitary place within the woods, whether they ^'^"^ '"^^" 
 brought the woman, inciting him to take their pleas- 
 ures together, and to imbrace one another, but y" 
 subtill practise vsed in these our dales, not to try if 
 men of great account bee extract out of their wits, 
 but rather to depriue them of strength, vertue. Corrupters 
 and wisedome, by meanes of such deuilish practi- tiemTifin™' 
 tioners, and intefernall spirits, their domestical ser- p™"^^^^ 
 uants, and ministers of corruption: and surely the feat 
 
 . ,. ,,^,,.. ., houses. 
 
 poore prmce at this assault had bm m great danger, 
 if a gentleman (that in Horuendiles time had bin 
 nourished with him) had not showne himselfe more 
 affectioned to the bringing vp he had receiued with 
 Hamblet, then desirous to please the Tirant, who by 
 all meanes sought to intangle the sonne in the same 
 nets wherein the father had ended his dayes. This 
 gentleman bare the courtiers (appointed as afore- 
 saide of this treason) company, more desiring to giue 
 the prince instructions what he should do, then to 
 
294 THE HYSrORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 intrap him making full account that the least showe 
 of perfect sence and wisedome that Hamblet should 
 make, would be sufficient to cause him to loose his 
 life : and therfore by certain signes he gaue Ham- 
 blet intelligence, in what danger hee was like to fall 
 if by any mean.es hee seemed to obaye, or once like 
 the wanton toyes, & vicious prouocations of the gen- 
 tle woman, sent thither by his Uncle : which much 
 abashed the prince, as then wholy beeing in affection 
 to the Lady, but by her he was likewise informed of 
 the treason, as being one that from her infancy loued 
 and fauourtd him, and would haue been exceeding 
 sorrowfull for his misfortune, and much more to 
 leaue his companie without inioying the pleasure 
 of his body, whome she loued more than her selfe. 
 The Prince in this sort having both deceiued the 
 courtiers, and the Ladyes expectation, that affirmed 
 and swoore that hee neuer once offered to haue his 
 pleasure of the woman, although in subtilty hee 
 affirmed the contrary : euery man there vpon as- 
 sured themselues that without all doubt hee was 
 distraught of his sences, that his braynes were as 
 then wholly void of force, and incapable of reason- 
 able apprehension, so that as then Fengons practise 
 took no effect : but for al that he left not off : still 
 seeking by al meanes to finde out Hamblets subtilty : 
 as in the next chapter you shall perceiue. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 How Fengon, vncle to Hamblet, a second time to in-, 
 trap him in his pollitick madnes : caused one of 
 his counsellors to be secretly hidden in the Queenes 
 chamber : behind the arras, to heare what speeches 
 past betweene Hamblet and the Queen and how 
 Hamblet killed him, and escaped that danger and 
 what followed. 
 
 Among the friends of Fengon, there was one that 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 295 
 
 aboue al the rest, doubted of Hamblets practises, in 
 counterfeiting the madman, who for that cause said, 
 that it was impossible that so craftie a gallant as 
 Hamblet that counterfeited the foole, should be dis- Another 
 couered with so common & vnskilfull practises, which t" dece^™ 
 might easily bee percieued, and that to finde out his "^""'^'°'' 
 politique pretence it were necessary to inuent some 
 subtill and crafty meanes, more attractiue, whereby 
 the gallant might not liaue the leysure to vse his 
 accustomed dissimulation, which to effect he said he 
 knewe a fit waie and a most conuenient meane to 
 effect the kings desire, and thereby to intrap Hamblet 
 in his subtilties, and cause him of his owne accord 
 to fall into the net prepared for him, and thereby eui- 
 dently shewe his secret meaning : his deuise was thus, 
 that King Fengon should make as though he were to 
 goe some long voyage, concerning affayres of great 
 importance and that in the meane time Hamblet 
 should be shut vp alone in a chamber with his 
 mother, wherein some other should secretly be hid- 
 den behind the hangings, vnknowne either to him or 
 his mother, there to stand and heere their speeches, 
 and the complots by them to bee taken, concerning 
 the accomplishments, of the dissembling fooles pre- 
 tence, assuring the king that if there v/ere any point 
 of wisedome and perfect sence in the gallants spirit 
 that without all doubte he would easily discouer it to 
 his mother as being deuoid of all feare that she would 
 vtter or make knowne his secret intent, beeing the 
 woman that had borne him in her bodie, and nour- 
 ished him so carefully, and withall offered himselfe 
 to be the man, that should stand to harken, and 
 beare witnesse of Hamblets speeches with his mother, 
 that hee might not be esteemed a counsellor in such 
 a case, wherein he refused to be the executioner, for 
 the behoofe and seruice of his prince. This inuen- 
 tion pleased the king exceeding well, esteeming it as 
 the onelie and soueraigne remedie to heale the prince 
 
296 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 of his lunacie, and to that ende making a long voy- 
 age issued out of his pallace, and road to hunt in the 
 forrest, meane time the counsellor entred secretly 
 into the Queenes chamber, and there hid himselfe be- 
 subViity!''^'^ hii^d the arras, not long before the Queene and 
 Hamblet came thither, who being craftie and polli- 
 tique, as soone as hee was within the chamber 
 doubting some treason, and fearing if he should 
 speake seuerely and wisely to his mother touching 
 his secret practises he should be vnderstood, and by 
 that meanes intercepted, vsed his ordinary manner of 
 dissimulation, and began to come like a cocke beat- 
 ing with his armes, (in such manner as cockes vse to 
 strike with their wings), vpon the hangings of the 
 chamber, whereby feeling something stirring vnder 
 them, he cried a rat a rat, and presently drawing 
 A cruel re- jjig swordc thrust it into the hangings, which done, 
 by Hamblet pullcd the counscllour (halfe dead) out by the heeles, 
 that"woSd made an end of killing him, and beeing slaine, cut 
 {j?^'= '■^'™'' his bodie in peeces, which he caused to be boyled 
 and then cast it into an open vaulte or priuie, that 
 so it mighteserue for foode to the hogges, by which 
 meanes hauing discouered the ambushe, and giuen 
 the inuenter thereof his iust rewarde, hee came 
 againe to his mother, who in the meane time wepte 
 and tormented her selfe, to see all her hopes frus- 
 trate, for that what fault soeuer she had committed, 
 yet was shee sore grieued to see her onely child 
 made a meere mockery, euery man reproaching her 
 with his folly, one point whereof she had as then 
 scene before her eyes, which was no small pricke to 
 her conscience, esteeming that the Gods sent her 
 that punishment for ioyning incestuously in mar- 
 riage with the tyrrannous murtherer of her husband, 
 who like wise ceased not to inuent all the means he 
 Ge^"hesre ^o"'"^' t° bring his nephew to his ende, accusing his 
 pentance. ownc naturall indiscretion, as beeing the ordinary 
 guide of those that so much desire the pleasures of 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 297 
 
 the bodie, who shutting vp the waie to all reason 
 respect not what maie ensue of their lightnes, and 
 greate inconstancy, and how a pleasure of small mo- 
 ment is sufficient to giue them cause of repentance, 
 during their Hues, and make them curse the daye 
 and time that euer any such apprehensions, entred 
 into theire mindes, or that they closed theire eies to 
 reiect the honestie requisite in Ladies of her quali- 
 tie, and to despise the holy institution of those 
 dames that had gone before her both in nobilitie 
 and vertue, calling to mind the great prayses and 
 commendations giuen by the Danes to Rinde daugh- 
 ter to King Rothere, the chastest Lady in her time, pr]^'"etofki 
 and withall so shamefast that she would neuer con- admirable 
 sent to marriage with any prince or knight whatso-"^ "^ "^" 
 euer, surpassing in vertue all the ladyes of her time, 
 as shee herselfe surmounted them in beawtie, good 
 behauiour, and comelines, and while in this sort she 
 sate tormenting herselfe, Hamlet entred into the 
 chamber, who hauing once againe searched euery 
 corner of the same, distrusting his mother as well as 
 the rest, and perceiuing himselfe to bee alone, 
 began in sober and discreet manner to speak vnto 
 her saying. 
 
 What treason is this, O most infamous woman ! 
 of all that euer prostrated themselues to the will of 
 an abhominable whore-monger who vnder the vail of 
 a dissembling creature couereth the most wicked and 
 detestable crime that man could euer imagine, or was 
 committed. How may I be assured to trust you, 
 that like a vile wanton adulteresse, altogether impu- 
 dent & giuen ouer to her pleasure, runnes spreading 
 forth her armes ioyfully to imbrace the trayterous 
 villanous tyrant, that murthered my father, and most 
 incestuously receiuest the villain into the lawfull 
 bed of your loyall spouse, impudently entertaining 
 him in steede of the deare father of your miserable 
 sind discomforted sonne, if the gods graunt him not 
 
298 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 the grace speedilie to escape from a captiuity so 
 vnworthie the degree he holdeth, and the race & 
 noble familie of his ancestors. Is this the part of a 
 queene, and daughter to a king? to Hue Hke abruite 
 beast (and like a mare that yeeldethher bodie to the 
 horse that hath beaten hir companion awaye,) to 
 followe the pleasure of an abhominable king that hath 
 murthered a farre more honester and better man 
 then himself in massacring Horuendile, the honor, 
 and glory of the Danes, who are now esteemed of 
 no force nor valour at all, since the shining splen- 
 dure of knighthood, was brought to an end by the 
 most wickedest, and cruellest villaine liuing vpon 
 earth : I for my part will neuer account him for my 
 kinsman, nor once knowe him for mine vncle, nor 
 you my deer mother for not hauing respect to the 
 blud that ought to haue vniffed us so straightly to- 
 gether, & who neither with your honor nor without 
 suspition of consent to the death of your husband 
 could euer haue agreed to haue marryed with his 
 cruell enemie: O Queene Geruthe, it is the part of a 
 bitch, to couple with many, and desire acquaintance 
 of diuers mastiffes : it is licentiousnes only that hath 
 made you deface out of your minde the memory of 
 the valor & vertues of the good King your husband 
 and my father:' it was an unbrideled desire that guid- 
 ed the daughter of Roderick to imbrace the Tirant 
 Fengon, & not fo remember Horuendile (vnworthy 
 of so strange intertainment), neither that he killed his 
 brother traiterously, and that shee being his fathers 
 wife betrayed him, although he so well fauoured and 
 loued her, that for her sake hevtterly bereaved Nor- 
 way of her riches and valiant souldiers, to augment 
 the treasures of Roderick, and make Geruthe wife to 
 the hardyest prince in Europe. It is not the parte 
 of a woman, much less of a princesse, in whome all 
 modesty, curtesie, compassion and loue ought to 
 abound, thus to leaue her deare child to fortune in the 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 2^^ 
 
 bloody & murtherous hands of a villaijvand traytor, 
 bruite beasts do not so; for Lyr>:,'s^ygers, ounces, 
 and leopards fight for thg' safety and defence of 
 their whelpes; and biiT>s that haue beakes, claws, 
 and wing's, ►resist such as would rauish them of 
 their yong ones, but you to the contrary expose and 
 deliuer mee to death, whereas ye should defend me. 
 Is not this as much as if you should betray me, 
 when you knowing the peruersenes of the tyrant and 
 his intents, ful of deadly counsell as touching the 
 race & image of his biother, haue not once sought 
 nor desired to finde the meanes to saue your child 
 (& only son) by sending him into Swethland, Nor- 
 way, or England, rather then to leaue him as a pray 
 to youre infamous adulterer? bee not offended I 
 pray you Madame, if transported with dolour and 
 griefe I speake so boldely vnto you, and that I re- 
 spect you lesse then dutie requireth, for you hauing 
 forgotten mee, and wholy reiected the memorye of 
 the deceased K. my father, must not bee abashed if 
 I also surpasse the bounds and limits of due con- 
 sideration, Beholde into what distress I am now 
 fallen, and to what mischiefe my fortune and your 
 ouer great lightnesse, and want of wisdome haue 
 induced mee, that I am constrained to playe the 
 madde man to saue my life in steed of vsing and 
 practising armes, following aduentures, and seeking 
 all meanes to make my selfe knowne to bee the 
 true and vndoubted heire to the valiant and 
 vertuous King Horuendile, it was not without 
 cause, and iuste occasion, y* my gestures, coun- 
 tenances, and words seeme all to proceed from 
 a madman, and that I desire to haue all men es- 
 teeme mee wholly depriued of sence and reason- 
 able vnderstanding, bycause I am well assured, that 
 he hath made no conscience to kill his owne brother, 
 (accustomed to murthers, & allured with desire of 
 gouernement without controll in his treasons) will not 
 
■JCC, THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 spare to saue himselfe with the like crueltie, in 
 blood, & flesh "^fthe loyns of his brother, by : 
 
 the 
 him 
 massacred : & therefor^';t is better for me to fayne 
 madnesse then to vse my ri^ht '^ences as nature hath 
 bestowed them vpon me, The bright bhihin^-clear- 
 nes thereof I am forced to hide vnder this shadow of 
 dissimulation, as the sun doth hir beams vnder 
 some great cloud, when the wether in sommer time 
 ouercasteth : the face of a mad man, serueth to 
 couer my gallant countenance, & the gestures of a 
 fool are fit for me, to y® end that guiding myself 
 wisely therin I may preserue my life for y® Danes, 
 & the memory of my late deceased father, for y* 
 the desire of reuenging his death is so ingrauen in 
 my heart y* if I dye not shortly, I hope to take 
 such and so great vengeance, that these Countryes 
 shall foreuer speake thereof. Neuerthelesse I must 
 stay the time, meanes, and occasion, lest by making 
 ouer great hast, I be now the cause of mine owne 
 sodaine ruine and ouerthrow, and by that meanes, 
 end, before I beginne to effect my hearts desire : hee 
 We must that hath to doe with a wicked, disloyall, cruel!, 
 wlSioyaua-nd discourteous man, must vse craft, and politike 
 person. inuentions, such as a fine witte can best imagine, 
 not to discover his interprise: for seeing that by 
 force I cannot effect my desire, reason alloweth me 
 by dissimulation, subtiltie, and secret practises to 
 We must proceed therein. To conclude, weepe not (Madame) 
 ^uT''owne to sce my folly, but rather sigh and lament your 
 Mfteotlier °wne offence, tormenting your conscience in regard 
 mens. of the infamie that hath so defiled the ancient re- 
 
 nowne and glorie that (in times past) honoured 
 Queene Geruth : for wee are not to sorrowe and 
 grieue at other mens vices, but for our owne mis- 
 deedes, and great follyes. Desiring you, for the sur- 
 plus of my proceedings, aboue all things (as you 
 loue your owne life and welfare) that neither the 
 king, nor any other may by any meanes know 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 301 
 
 mine intent, and let me alone with the rest, for I 
 hope in the ende to bring my purpose to effect. 
 
 Although the Queene perceiued herselfe neerly 
 touched, and that Hamlet mooued her to the quicke, 
 where she felt her selfe intressed : neuerthelesse shee 
 forgot all disdaine & wrath, which thereby she might 
 as then haue had, hearing her selfe so sharply, 
 chiden & reprooued, for the ioy she then conceaued, 
 to behold the gallant spirit of her sonne, and to 
 thinke what she might hope, & the easier expect of 
 his so great policie and wisdome. But on the other 
 side she durst not lift vp her eyes to behold him, 
 remembring her offence, & on the other side she 
 would gladly haue imbraced her son, in regard of 
 the wise admonitions by him giuen vnto her, which 
 as then quenched the flames of unbridled desire 
 y' before had moued her to affect K. Fengon : to 
 ingraff in her heart y® vertuous actions of her law- 
 full spouse, whom inwardly she much lamented, 
 when she beheld the liuely image and portraiture of 
 his vertue & great wisedome in her childe, represent- 
 ing his fathers haughtie and valiant heart : and so 
 ouercome and vanquished with this honest passion, 
 and weeping most bitterly, hauing long time fixed 
 her eyes vpon Hamlet, as beeing rauished into some 
 great and deepe contemplation, & as it were wholy 
 amazed ; at the last imbracing him in her armes 
 (with the like loue that a vertuous mother may or 
 can vse, to kisse and entertaine herowne childe) she 
 spake vnto him in this manner. 
 
 I know well (my Sonne) that I haue done thee 
 great wrong in marrying with Fengon, the cruell 
 tyrant and murtherer of thy father, and my loyall 
 spouse : but when thou shalt consider the small 
 meanes of resistance, and the treason of the Palace, 
 with the little cause of confidence we are to expect 
 or hope for of the Courtiers, all wrought to his will : 
 as also the power hee made ready, if I should haue 
 
302 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 refused to like of him^ thou wouldest rather excuse, 
 then accuse me of lasciuiousnes. or inconstancy, 
 much lesse offer me that wrong, to suspect that 
 euer thy mother Geruthe once consented to the 
 death & murther of her husband : swearing vnto 
 thee (by the maiestie of the Gods) that if it had 
 layne in my power to haue resisted the tyrant, 
 although it had beene with the losse of my blood, 
 yea and my life, I would surely haue saued tl^ life 
 of my Lord and husband, with as good a will & 
 desire, as since that time, I haue often beene a 
 meanes to hinder and impeach the shortning of thy 
 life, which being taken away, I will no longer Hue 
 here vpon earth : for seeing that thy sences are 
 whole and sound, I am in hope to see an easie 
 meanes inuented for the reuenging of thy fathers 
 death. Neverthelesse, mine owne sweet sonne, if 
 thou hast pittie of thy selfe, or care of the memorie 
 of thy father (although thou wilt do nothing for 
 her that deserueth not the name of a mother in 
 this respect), I pray thee carie thine affayres wisely, 
 bee not hastie, nor ouer furious in thy interprises, 
 neither yet aduance thy selfe more then reason shall 
 mooue thee to effect thy purpose. Thou seest there 
 is not almost any man wherein thou mayest put thy 
 trust, nor any woman to whom I dare vtter the least 
 part of my secrets, that would not presently report 
 it to thine aduersarie, who, although in outward shew 
 he dissembleth to love thee, the better to injoy his 
 pleasures of me, yet hee distrusteth and feareth mee 
 for thy sake, and is not so simple to be easily per- 
 swaded, that thou art a foole or mad, so that if thou 
 chance to doe any thing that seemeth to proceed of 
 wisedome or policie (how secretly soeuer it be done) he 
 will presently be informed thereof, and I am greatly 
 afraide that the deuils haue shewed hkn, what hath 
 past at this present between vs: (Fortune so muche 
 pursueth and contrarieth our ease and welfare) or 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 303 
 
 that this murther that now thou hast committed, be 
 not the cause of both our destructions, which I by no 
 meanes will seeme to know, but will keepe secret 
 both thy wisedome & hardy interprise. Beseeching 
 the Gods (my good sonne) that they, guiding thy 
 heart, directing thy counsels and prospering thy in- 
 terprise, I may see thee possesse and inioy that 
 which is thy right, and weare the crowne of Den- 
 marke, by the Tyrant taken from thee : that I may 
 reioice in thy prosperitie, and therewith content my 
 self, seeing with what courage and boldness thou 
 shalt take vengeance vpon the murtherer of thy 
 father, as also vpon all those that haue assisted and 
 fauoured him in hismurtherous and bloody enterprise. 
 Madame (sayd Hamlet) I will put my trust in you, 
 and from hencefoorth meane not to meddle further 
 with your affayres, beseeching you (as you loue 
 your own flesh and blood) that you will from hence 
 foorth no more esteeme of the adulterer mine ene- 
 mie, whom I wil surely kill, or cause to be put to 
 death, in despite of all the deuils in hel : and haue 
 he neuer so manie flattering courtezans' to defend 
 him yet will I bring him to his death, & they them- 
 selues also shall beare him company therein : as 
 they haue bin his perverse counsellors in the action 
 of killing my father, and his companions in his trea- 
 son, massacre, and cruell enterprise. And reason 
 requireth, that euen as trayterously they then 
 caused their prince to bee put to death, that with 
 the like (nay well much more) iustice they should 
 pay the interest of their fellonious actions. 
 
 You know (Madame) how Hother your grand- j^«°Jh^^ 
 father, and father to the good king Roderick, hau-Rodericke. 
 ing vanquished Guimon, caused him to be burnt, 
 for that the cruell vilain had done the like to his^;™°h"is 
 lord Geuare, whom he betrayed in the night time, i^rd Geuare. 
 
 ■ Courtiers. 
 
304 
 
 THE HYSTORIE OF ff AMBLE T, 
 
 fulnesse or 
 fidelitie to 
 traytors or 
 Parricides. 
 
 We must And who knoweth not that traytors and periured 
 ther7a1th!'" pcrsons dcscrve no faith nor loyaltie to be obserued 
 towardes them, and that conditions made with mur- 
 therers, ought to be esteemed as cobwebs, and ac- 
 counted as if they were things neuer promised nor 
 agreed vpon : but if I lay handes vpon Fengon, it 
 will neither be fellonie nor treason, hee being neither 
 my King nor my Lord : but I shall iustly punish 
 him as my subiect, that hath disloyaly behaued him- 
 selfe against his Lord & soueraigne prince ; and 
 seeing that glory is the rewar.de of the vertuous, 
 and the honour and praise of those that doe seruice 
 to their naturall Prince, why should not blame and 
 dishonour accompany Traytors, & ignominious 
 death al those that dare be so bold as to lay violent 
 hands vpon sacred Kings, that are friends & com- 
 panions of the gods, as representing their maiestie 
 & persons. To conclude, glorie is the crowne of 
 vertue, & the price of constancie, and seeing that it 
 neuer accompanieth with infelicitie, but shunneth 
 cowardize and spirits of base & trayterous conditions, 
 it must necessarily foUowe, that either a glorious 
 death will be mine ende, or with my sword in hand, 
 (laden with tryumph and victorie) I shall bereaue 
 them of their Hues, that made mine vnfortunate, & 
 darkened the beames of that vertue which I pos- 
 sessed from the blood and famous memory of my 
 Predecessors. For why should men desire to Hue, 
 when shame & infamie are the executioners that 
 torment their consciences, and villany is the cause 
 that withholdeth the heart from valiant interprises, 
 and diuerteth the minde from honest desire of 
 glorie and commendation, which indureth for euer? 
 I know it is foolishly done, to gather fruit before it 
 is ripe, & to seeke to enioy a benefit, not knowing 
 whither it belong to vs of right : but I hope to 
 effect it so well, and haue so great confidence in my 
 fortune (that hitherto hath guided the action of 
 
PRINCE OF DENMAfiKE. 305 
 
 my life) that I shall not dye, without reuenging my 
 selfe vpon mine enemie, and that himselfe shall be 
 the instrument of his owne decay, and to execute 
 that which of my selfe I durst not haue enterprised. 
 After this, Fengon (as ifheehad beene out some 
 long iourney) came to the Court againe, and asked 
 for him that had receiued the charge to play the 
 intelligencer, to entrap Hamlet, in his dissembled 
 wisdome, was abashed to heare neither newes nor 
 tydings of him, and for that cause asked Hamlet 
 what was become of him: naming the man. The 
 Prince that neuer vsed lying, and who in all the 
 answers that euer he made (during his counterfeit 
 madnesse) neuer strayed from the trueth (as a gen- 
 erous minde is a mortal enemie to vntruth) an- 
 swered and sayd, that the counsellor he sought for, 
 was gone downe through the priuie, where being 
 choaked by the filthynesse of the place, the Hogs 
 meeting him had filled their bellyes. 
 
 CHAPTER nn. 
 
 Hoiv Fengon the third time deuised to send Hamblet 
 to the king of England, with secret letters to 
 haue hint put to death : and how Hamblet, when 
 his companions slept, read the Letters, and in- 
 stead of them, counterfeited others, willing the 
 king of England to put the two Messengers to 
 death, and to marry his daughter to Hamblet, 
 whieh was effected, and how Hamblet escaped out 
 of England. 
 
 A MAN would have iudged any thing rather then 
 that Hamblet had committed that murther, neuer- 
 thelesse Fengon could not content himselfe, but 
 still his minde gaue him, that the foole would play 
 him some tricke of Liegerdemaine, and willing 
 would haue killed him, but he feared king Roder- 
 
3o6 THE HXSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 icke, his father in law, and further durst not offend 
 the Queene, mother to the foole, whom she loued & 
 much cherished : shewing great griefe and heauiness 
 to see him so transported out of his wits. And in 
 that conceit, seeking to bee rid of him, determined 
 to finde the meanes to doe it by the ayde of a stran- 
 ger, making the king of England minister of his 
 massacring resolution, choosing rather that his friend 
 should defile his renowne, with so great a wicked- 
 nesses then himselfe to fall into perpetuall infamie, 
 by an exploit of so great crueltie, to whom hee pur- 
 posed to send him, and by letters desire to him to 
 put him to death. 
 
 Hamblet vnderstanding that he should be sent 
 into England, presently doubted the occasion of his 
 voyage, and for that cause speaking to the Queene, 
 desired her not to make any shew of sorrow or griefe 
 for his departure, but rather counterfeit a gladnesse, 
 as being rid of his presence, whom, although she 
 loued, yet she dayly grieued to see him in so pitifuU 
 estate, depriued of all sence and reason : desiring 
 her further, that she should hang the hall with tap- 
 estrie, and make it fast with nayles upon the walles, 
 and keepe the brands for him which he had sharp- 
 ened at the points, then, when as he said he made ar- 
 rowes to reuenge the death of his father : lastly, he 
 counselled her, that the yeere after his departure be- 
 ing accomplished, she should celebrate his funerals : 
 assuming her, that at the same instant, she should 
 see him returne with great contentment and pleas- 
 ure vnto her for that his voyage. Now .to beare 
 him company, were assigned two of Fengon's faith- 
 full ministers, bearing Letters ingraved in wood, 
 that contained Hamlets death, in such sort as he 
 had aduertised the King of England. But the sub- 
 tile Danish prince (beeing at sea) whilest his com- 
 panions slept, hauing read the letters, and knowne 
 his vncles great treason, with the wicked and villain- 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 307 
 
 ous mindes of the two courtyers that led him to 
 the slaughter ; raced out the letters that concerned Hambiets 
 his death, and in stead thereof graued others, with ^^'fj^'" ^"^ 
 Commission to the king of England to hang his two 
 companions, and not content to turne the death 
 they had deiused against him vpon their owne 
 neckes, wrote further, that king Fengon willed him, 
 to gaue his daughter to Hamlet in mariage : and so 
 arriuing in England, the Messengers presented 
 themselues to the King, giuing him Fengons Let- 
 ters ; who hauing read the contents, sayd nothing 
 as then, but stayed conuenient time to effect Fen- 
 gons desire; meane time vsing the Danes familiarly, 
 doing them that honour to sit at his table (for that 
 kings as then were not so curiously nor solemnely 
 serued as in these our dayes), for in these dayes 
 meane kings and lords of small reuenewe are as 
 difficult and hard to bee seene, as in times past the 
 monarches of Persia vsed to be : or as it is reported 
 of the great king of Aethyopia who (wil not permit 
 any man to see his face, which ordinarily he couereth 
 with a vaile.) And as the Messengers sate at the 
 table with the king, subtile Hamlet was so far from 
 being merry with them, that would not taste one 
 bit of meate, bread, nor cup of beare whatsoeuer, as 
 then set vpon the table, not without great wonder- 
 ing of the company, abashed to see a yong man 
 and a stranger, not to esteeme of the delicate meates 
 & pleasant drinkes serued at the banquet, reiecting 
 them as things filthy, euill of tast, & worse prepared. 
 The king who for that time dissembled what he 
 thought, caused his ghests to be conueyed into their 
 chamber, willing one of his secret seruantes to hide 
 himselfe therein, & so certifie him what speeches 
 past among the Danes at their going to bed. 
 
 Now they were no sooner entred into the cham- 
 ber, and those that were appointed to attend vpon 
 them gone out, but Hamlets companions asked 
 
3o8 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 him, why he refused to eate and drinke of that 
 which hee found vpon the table, not honouring the • 
 banquet of. so great a king, that entertained them 
 in friendly sort, with such honour and courtesie as 
 it deserued : saying further, that hee did not well, 
 but dishonoured him that sent him, as if he sent 
 men into England that feared to bee poysoned, by 
 so great a king. The Prince that had done nothing 
 without reason and prudent consideration, answered 
 them and sayd : What think you, that I wil eat 
 bread dipt in humane blood, and defile my throate 
 with the rust of yron, and vse that meat that 
 stinketh and sauoureth of mans flesh, already putri- 
 fied and corrupted, and that senteth like the sauour 
 of a dead carryon long since cast into a valt : and 
 how would you haue mee to respect the King, that 
 hath the countenance of a slaue, and the Queene 
 who in stead of great majestie, hath done three 
 things more like a woman of base parentage, & fitter 
 for a waiting Gentlewoman then beseeming a Lady 
 of her qualitie and estate : & hauing sayd so, vsed 
 many iniurious & sharpe speeches as well against 
 the king & queene, as others that had assisted at 
 that banquet for the intertainment of the Danish 
 Ambassadors : and therein Hamblet said trueth, as 
 hereafter you shall heare, for that in those dayes, 
 the North parts of the worlde liuing as then under 
 Sathans lawes, were full of inchanters, so that there 
 was not any yong gentleman whatsoeuer, that 
 knew not something therein sufficient to serue his 
 turne, if need required: as yet in those dayes in 
 Gothland Sz; Biarmy, there are many y* knew not 
 what the christian religion permitteth, as by read- 
 ing the histories of Norway & Gothland you may 
 easilie perceiue : and so Hamlet, while his father 
 liued had been instructed in that deuilish art, 
 whereby the wicked spirite abuseth mankind, and 
 aduertiseth him (as he can) of things past. 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 309 
 
 It toucheth not the matter herein to discouer the 
 parts of deuination in man, and whether this prince 
 by reason of his ouer great melancholy, had receiued 
 those impressions, deuining that, which neuer any 
 but himselfe had before declared, like the Philo- 
 sophers, who discoursing of diuers deep points of 
 philosophie, attribute the force of those diuinations 
 to such as are Saturnists by complection who, often- 
 times speake of things which their fury ceasing, 
 they then alreadye can hardly vnderstand who are 
 the pronouncers, and for that cause Plato saith, 
 many deuiners and many poets, after the force and 
 vigour of theire fier beginneth to lessen, do hardly 
 vnderstand what they haue written, although 
 intreating of such things, while the spirite of 
 deuination continueth vpon them, they doe in such 
 sort discourse thereof that the authors and inuenters 
 of the arts themselues by them al'edged commend 
 their discourses & subtill disputations. Likewise I 
 mean not to relate y* which diuers men beleeue y* 
 a reasonable soul, becommeth y^ habitation of a 
 meaner sort of diuels, by whom men learn the 
 secrets of things natural, & much lesse do I account 
 of y^ supposed gouernors of y® world fained by 
 magitians by whose means they brag to effect 
 meruailous things ; It would seeme miraculous y* 
 Hamlet shold divine in y* sort, which after prooued 
 so true (if as I said before) the diuel had not know- 
 ledg of things past, but to grant it he knoweth 
 things to come I hope you shall neuer finde me in 
 sogrose an error, you will compare and make equall 
 deriuation, & coniecture with those that are made 
 by the spirit of God, and pronounced by the holy 
 prophets, that tasted of that maruelous science, to 
 whome onely, was declared the secrets & wondrous 
 workes of the almighty. Yet there are some 
 imposturious companions that impute so much 
 deuinitie to the Diuell the father of lyes, y* they 
 
3IO THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 
 
 attribute vnto him the truth of the knowledge of 
 thinges that shall happen vnto men, alledging the 
 conference of Saul with the witch although one 
 example out of the holy scriptures, specially set 
 down for the condemnation of wicked man is not of 
 force to giue a sufficient law to all the world, for 
 they themselues confesse, that they can deuine, not 
 according to the vniuersal cause of things, but by 
 signes borrowed from such like causes, which are 
 all waies alike, and by those coniectures they can 
 giue iudgement of thinges to come, but all this bee- 
 ing grounded vpon a weake support, (which is a 
 simple coniecture)& hauing so slender a foundation, 
 as some foolish or late experience the fictions being 
 voluntarie, It should be a great folly in a man of 
 good iudgment specially one that imbraceth the 
 preachn of the gospell, & seeketh after no other but 
 the trueth thereof, to repose vpon any of these 
 likelihoods or writings full of deceipt. 
 
 As touching magical operations, I will grant them 
 somewhat therein, finding diuers histories y* write 
 thereof, & that the Bible maketh mention and for- 
 biddeth the vse thereof, yea the lawes of the gentiles 
 and ordinances of Emperors, haue bin made against 
 it, in such sort, that Mahomet the great Hereticke & 
 friend of the Diuell by whose subtiltyes hee abused 
 most part of the East countries hath ordained great 
 punishments for such as vse and practise those unlaw- 
 fuU & damnable arts which for this time leauing of, 
 letvs returne to Hamblet, brought vp in these abuses, 
 according to the manner of his country, whose com- 
 panions hearing his answere reproached him of folly, 
 saying that hee could by no meanes show a greater 
 point of indiscretion, Then In despising that which is 
 lawfull, and reiecting that which all men receaued, as 
 a necessary thing and that hee had not grossely so 
 forgotten himselfe, as in y* sort to accuse such and so 
 excellent a man as the king of England, and to slander 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 311 
 
 the Queene, being then as famous and wise a princes, 
 as any at that day raigning in the Hands there- 
 abouts, to cause him to be punished, according to 
 his deserts, but he continuing in his dissimulation, 
 mocked him, saying that hee had not done any thing 
 that was not good & most true : on the other side 
 the King being aduertised therof by him that stood 
 to heare the discourse, iudged presently that Ham- 
 let speaking so ambiguously was either a perfect 
 foole, or else one of the wisest princes in his time, 
 answering so sodainly, and so much to the purpose, 
 vpon the demaund by his companions, made touch- 
 ing his behauiour, and the better to finde the trueth 
 caused the babler to be sent for, of whome inquir- 
 ing in what place the corne grew whereof he made 
 bread for his table, and whether in that ground 
 there were not some signes or newes of a battaile 
 fought whereby humaine blood had therein been 
 shed, the babler answered that not far from thence 
 there lay a field ful of dead mens bones : in times 
 past slaine in a battaile, as by the greate heapes of 
 wounded scullea, mighte well appeare and for that 
 the grounds in that parte was become fertiler then 
 other grounds by reason, of the fatte and humours 
 of the dead bodies, y* euery yeer the farmers vsed 
 there to haue in y^ best wheat they could finde to 
 serue his majesties house. The King perceiuing it 
 to be true, according to the yong princes wordes, 
 asked where the hogs had bin fed that were killed 
 to be serued at his table, and answere was made him, 
 that those hogs getting out of the saide fielde where- 
 in they were kepte had found the bodie of a thiefe 
 that had beene hanged for his demerits, and had 
 eaten thereof: whereat the King of England beeing 
 abashed, would needs know with what water the 
 beer he vsed to drinke of, had beene brued, which 
 hauing knowne, he caused the riuer to be digged 
 somewhat deeper, and therin found great store of 
 
312 THE HYSTORIE OF ff AMBLE T, 
 
 swords and rustic armours, that gaue an ill savour 
 to the drini<e. It were good that I should heere di- 
 late somewhat of Merlius prophesies which are said 
 to be spoken of him before he was fuly one yeere 
 old, but if you consider wel what hath al reddy been 
 spoken it is no hard matter to diuine of things past, 
 although the minister of Sathan therein played his 
 part giuing sodaine and prompt answeres, to this 
 yong prince, for that herein are nothing but natural 
 things, such as were wel known to be true, and there- 
 fore not needfuU to dreame of thinges to come. This 
 knowne, the King greatly moued with a certaine curi- 
 ositie, to knowe why the Danish prince saide that he 
 had the countenance of a slaue suspecting thereby 
 that he reproached the basenes of his blood and that 
 he wold affirme that neuer any prince had bin his 
 sire, wherin to satisfie himselfe, he went to his 
 mother, and leading her into a secret chamber, which 
 he shutas sooneas they were entted desired her of 
 her honour to shewe him of whome he was ingendred 
 in this world. The good Lady, wel assured that 
 neuer any man had bin acquainted w* her loue, 
 touching any other man then her husband, sware 
 that the King her husband onely was the man that 
 enioyed the pleasures of her body, but the king hir 
 Sonne, alreadie with the truth of the Danish princes 
 answers, threatned his mother to make her tell by 
 force, if otherwise she would not confesse it, who for 
 feare of death acknowledged that she had prostrated 
 her body to a slaue, & made him father to the king 
 of England whereat the king was abashed and wholy 
 ashamed, I giue them leauetoludge who esteeming 
 themselues honester than theire neighbours, & sup- 
 posing that there can be nothing amisse in their 
 houses, make more enquirie then is requisite to 
 know y* which they would rather not haue known, 
 neuerthelesse dissembling what he thought, & biting 
 vpon the bridle, rather than he would depriue him- 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 313 
 
 selfe, by publishing the lasciuiousnes of his mother, 
 thought better to leaue a great sin vnpunished, then 
 thereby to make himselfe contemptible to his sub- 
 iects, who peraduenture would haue reiected him as 
 not desiring to haue a bastard to raigne ouer so 
 great a kingdome. 
 
 But as he was sorry to hear his mother's confes- 
 sion, on the otherside he tooke great pleasure in the 
 subtilry, and quick spirit of the yong prince, and for 
 that cause went vnto him to aske him why he had 
 reprooved three things in his Queene conuenient 
 for a slaue, and sauouring more of basenes then of 
 royaltie, & far unfit for the maiesty of a great prince, 
 The king not content to haue receiued a great dis- 
 pleasure by knowing him selfe to be a bastard, & to 
 haue heard w* what injuries he charged her whom 
 hee loued best in all the world, would not content 
 himself vntill he also vnderstoody* which displeased 
 him, as much as hisowne proper disgrace, which was 
 that his Queen was the daughter of a chambermaid 
 and with all noted certaine foolish countenances, she 
 made, which not onely shewed of what parentage 
 she came, but also y* hir humors sauored of the 
 basenes and low degree of hir parents, whose mother 
 he assured the king was as then yet holden in serui- 
 tude. The king admiring the young, prince, and 
 behoulding in him some matter of greater respect 
 then in the common sort of men, gaue him his daugh- 
 ter in marriage, according to the counterfet letters by 
 him deuised, & the next day caused the two seruants 
 of Fengon to be executed, to satisfie, as he thought 
 the king's desire ; but Hamlet, although y® sport 
 plesed him wel, & that the King of England could 
 not haue done him a greater fauour, made as though 
 he had been much offended, threatening the king to 
 be reuenged, but the King to appease him gaue him 
 a great sum of gold, which Hamlet caused to be 
 molten, and put it into two staues, made hollow for 
 
314 THE HYSrORlE OF HA MB LET, 
 
 the same purpose, to serue his tourne there with as 
 neede should require, for of all other the kings treas- 
 ures he took nothing w* him into Denmark but 
 onely those two staues, and as soone as the yeere 
 began to bee at an end hauing somewhat before ob- 
 tained licence of the King his father in law to de- 
 part, went for Denmarke, Then with all the speed 
 hee could to returne againe into England to marry 
 his daughter and so set sayle for Denmarke. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How Hamblet hauing escaped oiit of England, arriued 
 in Denmarke the same day that the Danes were 
 celebrating his funerals, supposing him to be dead 
 in England, and how he reuenged his fathers death 
 vpon his Vncle and the rest of the Courtiers ; and 
 what followed: 
 
 Hamblet in that sort sayling into Denmark, being 
 arriued in the contry entred into the pallace of his 
 Uncle the same day that they were celebrating his 
 funeralls, and going into the Hall, procured no 
 small astonishment and wonder to them all, no 
 man thinking other but that hee had beene deade ; 
 among the which many of them reioyced not a 
 little, for the pleasure which they knew Fengon 
 would conceaue for so pleasant a losse, and some 
 were sadde, as remembring the honourable king Hor- 
 uendile, whose victories they could by no meanes 
 forget, much lesse deface out of theire memories 
 that which apperteined vnto him, who as then 
 greatly reioyced to see a false report spread of 
 Hamlets death, and that the tyrant had not as yet 
 obtained his will of the heire of Jutie, but rather 
 hoped God would restore him to his sences againe 
 for the good and welfare of that province. Their 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 315 
 
 amazement at the last beeing tourned into laugh- 
 ter, all that as then were assistant at the funerall 
 banquet, of him whome they esteemed dead, mocked 
 each at other, for hauing beene so simply deceiued, 
 and wondring at the Prince, that in his so long a 
 voyage he had not recouered any of his sences, 
 asked what was become of them that had borne him 
 company into greate Brittain, to whom he made 
 answere (shewing them the two hollow staues, 
 wherein he had put his molten golde, that the king 
 of England had giuen him to appease his fury, con- 
 cerning the murther of his two companions) and 
 said, here they are both. Whereat many that 
 already knew his humours, presently coniectured 
 that hee had plaide some tricke of legerdemane, 
 and to deliuer himselfe out of danger, had throwne 
 them into the pitte prepared for him, so that fear- 
 ing to follow after them and light vpon some euil 
 adventure, they went presently out of the court, and 
 it was well for them that they didde so, considering 
 the Tragedy acted by him the same dale, beeing ac- 
 counted his funerall, but in trueth theire last daies, 
 that as then reioyced for their ouerthrow; for when 
 euery man busied himselfe to make good cheare, 
 and Hamlets ariuall prouoked them more to drinke 
 and carouse, the prince himselfe at that time played 
 the Butler and a gentleman attending on the tables, 
 not suffering the pots nor goblets to bee empty, 
 whereby hee gauethe noble men such store of liquor, 
 that all of them being ful laden with wine, and, ^^'j^^'^^^^J 
 gorged with meate, were constrained to lay them- jj""""^^'" 
 selues downe in the same place where they had panes of the 
 supt, so much their sences were dulled, and ouer-™""^ 
 come with the fire of ouer great drinking, (a nice 
 common and familiar among the Almaines, and other 
 nations inhabiting the north parts of y^ wor[l]d) 
 which when Hamlet perceiuing, & finding so good 
 opportunitie to effect his purpose & bee reuenged 
 
3l6 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 of his enemies, & by y® means to abandon the 
 actions gestures & apparel of a mad man, occasion 
 so fitly finding his turn, & as it were effecting it 
 selfe failed not to take hold therof, & seeing those 
 drunken bodies, filled with wine, lying like hogs, 
 Vpon the ground, some sleeping, others vomiting 
 the ouer great abundance of wine which without 
 measure they had swallowed vp, made the hangings 
 about the hall to fall downe & couer them all ouer, 
 which he nailed to the ground, being boorded, & 
 at the endes thereof he stuck the brands whereof I 
 spake before by him sharpned, which serued for 
 prickes, binding and tying the hangings, in such 
 sort, that what force soeuer they vsed to loose them- 
 selues, it was vnpossible to get from vnder them, 
 and presently he set fire in the foure corners of the 
 hal, in such sort that all that were as then therin 
 not one escaped away but were forced to purge 
 their sins by fire, & dry up the great aboundance 
 of liquor by them receiued into their bodies, all of 
 them dying in the vneuitable and mercilesse flames 
 of the whot & burning fire which the prince per- 
 ceiuing, became wise, & knowing y* his vncle 
 before the end of the banquet had withdrawn him- 
 A strange gelfe into his chamber, which stood apart from the 
 taken by placc wherc the fire burnt, went thither, & entring 
 ^'"'°'" into y® chamber, layd hand vpon the sword of his 
 fathers murtherer, leaning his own in the place, 
 which while he was at the banket some of the 
 courtiers had nailed fast into the scaberd, & going 
 to Fengon said, I wonder disloyal king how thou 
 canst sleep heer at thine ease: & al thy pallace is 
 burnt the fire thereof hauing burnt y^ greatest part 
 of thy courtiers & ministers of thy cruelty, & de- 
 but*et"harp testable tirannies, & which is more I cannot imagin 
 and sting- ^qw thou sholdst wel assure thy self, & thy estate, 
 
 ing, giuenby ^i^i -tti , 
 
 Hamlet to as now to take thy ease, seemg ^amlet so neer thee 
 his vncle. jjj-med with y° shafts by him prepared long since & 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 317 
 
 and at this present is redy to reuenge the traiterous 
 iniury by thee done to his Lord & Father. 
 
 Fengon as then knowing y" truth of his nephews 
 subtile practise, & hering him speak w* stayed mind, 
 and which is more, perceiued a sword naked in his 
 hand, which he already lifted vp to depriue him of 
 his Hfe, leaped quickly out of the bed, taking holde 
 of Hamlets sworde, that was nayled into the 
 scaberd, which as hee sought to pull out, Hamlet 
 gaue him such a blowe vpon the chine of the necke, 
 that hee cut his head cleane from his shoulders, and 
 as he fell to the ground sayd : This iust and violent 
 death is a first reward for such as thou art, now go 
 thy wayes, & when thou commest in hell, see thou 
 forget not to tell thy brother (whom thou trayter- 
 ously slewest) that it was his sonne that sent thee 
 thither with the message, to the ende that beeing 
 comforted thereby, his soule may rest among the 
 blessed spirits, and quit mee of the obligation which 
 bound me to pursue his vengeance vpon mine owne 
 blood, that seeing it was by thee, that I lost the 
 chiefe thing that tyed me to this aliance & consan- 
 guinitie. A man (to say the trueth) bardie, courag- 
 ious, and worthy of eternall commendation, who 
 arming himself with a crafty, dissembling and 
 strange shew of beeing distract out of his wits, 
 vnder that pretence deceiued the wise, poUitike, and 
 craftie : thereby not onelie preseruing his life from 
 the treasons & wicked practises of the Tyrant, but 
 (which is more) by an new & vnexpected kinde of commen- 
 punishment reuenged his fathers death: many ^^j^['^^°*^_. 
 yeeres after the act committed: in no such sort wning the 
 that directing his courses with such patience, & ^'^^"'' 
 effecting his purposes, with so great boldnes & con- 
 stancie, he left a iudgement to be decyded among 
 men of wisdom, which was more commendable in 
 him, his constancy or magnanimitie, or his wisdom 
 
3l8 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 in ordring his affaires, according to the premeditable 
 determination he had conceaued. 
 How iust If vengeance euer seemed to haue any shew 
 ougirto'^be of iustice, it is then, when pietie and affection 
 considered. Qonstraincth vs to remember our fathers uniustly 
 murdred, as the things wherby we are dispensed 
 withal, %L which seeke the means not to leaue 
 Dauids in- treason and murther vnpunished: seeing Dauid a 
 mandhig"""" '^°ly ^ '"^s* king, & of nature simple, courteous and 
 Salomon to debonairc, yet when he dyed he charged his sonne 
 of some of Salomon (that succeeded him in his throane) not to 
 his enemies. g^^£gj. cgit^ajne men that had done him iniurie to 
 escape vnpunished : Not that this holy King (as 
 then readie to dye, and to giue account before God 
 of all his actions) was carefull or desirous of re- 
 uenge, but to leaue this example vnto us, that where 
 the Prince or Country is interessed, the desire of 
 reuenge cannot by any meanes (how small soeuer) 
 beare the title of condemnation, but is rather com- 
 mendable and worthy of praise ; for otherwise the 
 good kings of luda, nor others had not pursued 
 them to death, that had offended their predecessors, 
 if God himselfe had not inspired and ingrauen that 
 desire within their hearts. Hereof the Athenian 
 lawes beare witnesse, whose custome was to erect 
 Images in remembrance of those men that, reueng- 
 ing the iniuries of the Common wealth, boldly mas- 
 sacred tyrants and such as troubled the peace and 
 welfare of the Citizens. 
 
 Hamblet hauing in this manner reuenged him- 
 selfe, durst not presently declare his action to the 
 people, but to the contrary determined to worke by 
 policie, so to giue them intelligence, what he had 
 done, and the reason that drewe him thereunto ; so 
 that beeing accompanied with such of his fathers 
 friends, that then were rising, he stayed to see what 
 the people would doe, when they shoulde heare of 
 that sodaine and fearefull action. The next morn- 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 319 
 
 ing the Townes bordering there aboutes, desiring to 
 know from whence the flames of fire proceeded the 
 night before they had seene, came thither, and per- 
 ceiuing the kings Pallace burnt to ashes, & many 
 bodyes (most part consumed) lying among the 
 rvines of the house, all of them were much abashed, 
 nothing being left of the Palace but the foundation: 
 but they were much more amased to beholde the 
 body of the king all bloody, & his head cut off 
 lying hard by him, whereat some began to threaten 
 reuenge, yet not' knowing against whom: others 
 beholding so lamentable a spectacle armed them- 
 selues, the rest reioycing, yet not daring to make 
 any shewe thereof, some detesting the crueltie, 
 others lamenting the death of their Prince, but the 
 greatest part calling Horuendiles murther to re- 
 membrance, acknowledging a iust iudgement from 
 aboue, that had throwne downe the pride of the 
 Tyiant : and in this sort, the diuersities of opinions 
 among that multitude of the people, being many, 
 yet euery man ignorant what would be the issue of 
 that Tragedie, none stirred from thence, neither yet 
 attempted to moue any tumult, euery man fearing 
 his owne skinne, and distrusting his neighbour, 
 esteeming each other to bee consenting to the 
 massacre. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 How Hamlet hauing slaine his uncle, and burnt his 
 Palace, made an Oration to the Danes, to shew 
 them what he done : and how they m.ade him. 
 king of Denmarke, and what followed. 
 
 Hamlet then seeing y" people to be so quiet, & 
 most part of them not vsing any words, all search- 
 ing onely and simply the cause of this ruine and 
 
320 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 destruction, not minding to loose any time, but ayd- 
 ing himself with the commodotie thereof, entred 
 among the multitude of people, and standing in the 
 middle spake vnto them, as followeth. 
 
 If there be any among you (good people of Den- 
 mark) that as yet haue fresh within your memories, 
 the wrong done to the valiant king Horuendile, let 
 him not be mooued, nor thinke it strange to behold 
 the confused, hydeous and fearefuU spectacle of this 
 present calamitie : if there be any man that affecteth 
 fidelitie, and alloweth of the loue and dutie that 
 man is bounde to shewe his parents, and find it a 
 iust cause to call to remembrance the iniuryes and 
 wrongs that have been done to our progenitors, let 
 him not bee ashamed beholding this massacre, much 
 less offended to see so fearefull a ruine both of men 
 and of the brauest house in all this countrey: for 
 the hand that hath done this iustice, could not 
 effect it by any other meanes, neither yet was it law- 
 full for him to doe it otherwise, then by ruinating 
 both sensible and vnsensible things, thereby to pre- 
 serue the memorie of so iust a vengeance. 
 
 I see well (my good friends) & am very glad to 
 know so good attention and deuotion in you, that 
 you are sorrie (before your eyes) to see Fengon so 
 murthered, and without a head, which heeretofore 
 you acknowledged for your Commander: but I pray 
 you remember, this body is not the body of a king, 
 but of an execrable tyrant, and a parricide most de- 
 testable. Oh Danes, the spectacle was much more 
 hydeous, when Horuendile your king was mur- 
 thered by his brother. What should I say a brother? 
 nay rather, by the most abhominable executioner 
 that euer beheld the same. It was you that saw 
 Horuendiles members massacred, and that with 
 teares and lamentations accompanied him to the 
 graue : his body disfigured, hurt in a thousand 
 places, & misused in ten times as many fashions ; 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 321 
 
 and who doubteth (seeing experience hath taught 
 you) that the Tyrant (in massacring your lawful! 
 king) sought onely to infringe the auncient Liberties 
 of the common people? and it was one hand onely, 
 that murthering Horuendile, cruelly dispoyled him 
 of life, and by the same meanes uniustly bereaued 
 you of your auncient liberties, & delighted more in 
 oppression then to embrace the plesant countenance 
 of prosperous libertie, without aduenturing for the 
 same? And what mad man is he, that delighteth 
 more in the tyrrany of Fengon, then in the clemen- 
 cie and renewed courtesie of Horuendile? If it bee 
 so, that by clemencie and affabilitie, the hardest 
 and stoutest hearts are molified and made tractable, 
 and that euill and hard vsage causeth subiects to be 
 outrageous and vnruly: why behold you not the 
 debonair cariage of the first, to compare it w* the 
 cruelties & insolencies of the second, in euery 
 respect as cruell & barbarous, as his brother was 
 gentle, meeke and courteous. Remember, O you 
 Danes remember, what loue and amitie Horuendile 
 shewed vnto you, with what equitie and iustice he 
 swayed the great affaires of this kingdome, and with 
 what humanitie and courtisie he defended & cher- 
 ished you, and then I am assured that the simplest 
 man among you will both remember and acknowl- 
 edge, that he had a most peaceable, iust, & right- 
 eous king taken from him, to place in his throane a 
 tyrant and murtherer of his brother: one that hath 
 peruerted all right, abolished the auncient Lawes of 
 our fathers, contaminated the memories of our an- 
 cestors, & by his wickednesse polluted the integritie 
 of this kingdome, vpon the necke thereof hauing 
 placed the troublesome yoak of heauie seruitude, 
 abolishing that libertie wherein Horuendile vsed to 
 maintaine you, and suffred you to Hue at your ease, 
 and should you now bee sorrie to see the ende of 
 your mischiefes, & that this miserable wretch, 
 
322 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 pressed downe with the burthen of his offences, at 
 this present payeth the vsury of the parricide com- 
 mitted vpon the body of his brother, & would not 
 himselfe be the reuenger of the outrage done to me, 
 whom he sought to depriue of mine inheritance, 
 taking from Denmark a lawfull successor, to plant a 
 wicked stranger, & bring into captiuitie those that 
 my father had infranchised, and deliuered out of 
 misery and bondage? And what man is he that 
 hauing any sparke of wisdom, would esteem a good 
 deed to be an iniury, & account pleasures equal 
 with wrongs & euident outrages? It were then 
 great folly & temerity in Princes & valiant com- 
 manders in the wars, to expose themselues to peril 
 & hazards of their Hues, for the welfare of the com- 
 mon people, if y' for a recompence they should reape 
 hatred and indignation of the multitude, to what 
 end should Hother haue punished Balder, if in steed 
 of recompence, the Danes and Swethlanders had 
 banished him to receiue and accept the successors 
 of him that desired nought but his ruine and over- 
 throwe? What is hee that hath so small feeling of 
 reason & equitie, that would be grieued to see trea- 
 son rewarded with the like, and that an euill act is 
 punished with iust demerit, in the partie himselfe 
 that was the occasion : who was euer sorrowfuU to 
 behold the murtherer of innocents brought to his 
 end : of what man weepeth to see a iust massacre 
 done vpon a Tyrant, vsurper, villaine and bloody 
 personage? 
 
 I perceiue you are attentiue, & abashed for not 
 knowing the author of your deliuerance, and sorry 
 that you cannot tell to whom you should bee 
 thankefull for such & so great a benefit as the 
 destruction of a tyrant, and the ouerthrow of the 
 place, that was the storehouse of his villanies, and 
 the true receptacle of all the theeues and traytors 
 in this kingdome: but beholde (here in your 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 323 
 
 presence) him that brought so good an enterprise 
 to effect. It is I (my good friends) it is I that 
 confesse I haue taken vengeance, for the violence 
 done vnto my lord & father, and for the subiection 
 and seruitude that I perceiued in this Countrey, 
 whereof I am the iust and lawfull successor. It is I 
 alone, that haue done this piece of worke, whereunto 
 you ought to haue lent me your handes, and therein 
 haue ayded and assisted me, I haue only accom- 
 plished that, which all of you might iustly haue 
 effected, by good reason, without falling into any 
 point of treason or fellonie : it is true that I hope 
 so much of your good willes, towards the deceased 
 king Horuendile, & that the remembrances of his 
 vertues is yet so fresh within your memories, that if 
 I had required your aide herein, you would not haue 
 denied it, specially to your naturall prince. But it 
 liked mee best to doe it my selfe alone, thinking it 
 a good thing to punish the wicked, without hazard- 
 ing the Hues of my friends and loyall subiects, not 
 desiring to burthen other mens shoulders, with this 
 weight, for that I made account to effect it well 
 inough without exposing any man into danger, & 
 by publishing the same should cleane haue ouer- 
 throwne the deuice, which at this present I haue so 
 happily brought to passe. I haue burnt the bodyes 
 of the courtiers to ashes, being companions in the 
 mischiefs and treasons of the tyrant, but I haue left 
 Fengon whole, that you might punish his dead car- 
 kasse (seeing that when hee liued you durst not lay 
 hands vpon him) to accomplish the full punishment 
 and vengeance due vnto him, and so satisfie your 
 choller vpon the bones of him, that filled his greedy 
 hands and coffers with your riches, and shed the 
 blood of your brethren and friends. Bee ioyfuU 
 then (my good friends) make ready the nose-gay for 
 this vsurping King, burne his abhominable body, 
 boyle his lasciuious members, and cast the ashes of 
 
324 THE HISTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 him that hath beene hurtfull to all the world, into 
 the ayre ; driue from you the sparkes of pitie, to 
 the end that neither siluer, nor christall cup, nor 
 sacred tombe may be the restfull habitation of the 
 reliques & bones of so detestable a man : let not one 
 trace of a parricide be seene, nor your countrey de- 
 filed with the presence of the least member of this 
 tyrant without pity, that your neighbors may not 
 smell the contagion, nor our land the polluted in- 
 fection of a body condemned for his wickednes: I 
 haue done my part, to present him to you in this 
 sort, now it belongs to you to make an ende of the 
 worke, & put to the last hand of dutie, whereunto 
 your seuerall functions call you, for in this sort you 
 must honor abhominable princes : and such ought 
 to be the ^unerall of a tyrant, parricide, and vsurper 
 both of the bed & patrimony, that no way belonged 
 vnto him, who hauing bereaued his countrey of lib- 
 erty, it is fit that the land refuse to giue him a place 
 for the eternal rest of his bones. 
 
 O my good friends seeing you know the wrong 
 that hath bin done vnto mee, what my griefs are & 
 in what misery I haue liued since the death of the 
 king, my Lord & father, and seeing that you haue 
 both known and tasted these things then, when as I 
 could not conceiue the outrage that I felt : what 
 neede I recite it vnto you ? what benefit would it be 
 to discouer it before them, that knowing it, would 
 burst (as it were with despight) to heare of my hard 
 chance, and curse Fortune for so much imbasing a 
 royall prince, as to depriue him of his maiesty, 
 although not any of you durst so much as shew one 
 sight of sorrow or sadnes ? You know how my father 
 in law conspired my death, & sought by diuers 
 meanes to take away my life, how I was forsaken of 
 the Q. my mother, mocked of my friends, and dis- 
 pised of mine own subiects, hetherto I haue liued 
 laden with griefe, and wholy confounded in teares. 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 325 
 
 my life still accompanied with fear and suspition, 
 expecting the houre when the sharp sword would 
 make an ende of my life and miserable anguishes, 
 how many times counterfeiting y" mad man, haue I 
 heard you pitty my distresse, & secretly lament to 
 see mee disinherited, and yet no man sought to re- 
 uenge the death of my father, nor to punish the 
 treason of my incestuous vncle, full of murthers & 
 massacres ? This charitie ministred comfort, and your 
 affectionate complaints made me euidently see your 
 good wills, that you had in memorie the calamity of 
 your prince, & within your harts ingrauen the desire 
 of vengeance for the death of him that deserued a 
 long life : & what heart can bee so hard & vntracta- 
 ble, or spirit so seuere, cruel and rigorous, that would 
 not relent at the remembrance of my extremities, 
 and take pitty of an Orphan child, so abandoned of 
 the world ? What eyes were so voyd of moysture, 
 but would- distill a field ' [flood] of tears, to see a 
 poore Prince assaulted by his ownesubiects, betrayed 
 by his mother, pursued by his vncle, &so much op- 
 pressed, that his friends durst not shew the effects 
 of their charitie and good affection ? O (my good 
 friends) shew pity to him whom you haue nourished, 
 and let your harts take some compassion vpon the 
 memory of my misfortunes : I speak to you that 
 are innocent of al treason, & neuer defiled your 
 hands spirits nor desires with the blud of the greate 
 & vertuous king Horuendile. Take pity vpon the 
 queen some time your soueraign lady, & my right 
 honorable mother, forced by the tyrant, and reioyce 
 to see the end & extinguishing of the object of her 
 dishonor, which constrained her to be lesse pitiful 
 to her own blood so far as to imbrace the murtherer 
 of her own dear spouse, charging her selfe with a 
 double burthen of infamy %i incest, together w* in- 
 iuring and disanulling of her house, & the ruine of 
 her race. This hath bin y the occasion y' made 
 
326 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 me counterfet folly, & couer my intents vnder a 
 vaile of meer madnes, which hath wisdom and pol- 
 licy thereby to inclose the fruit of this vengeance 
 which y* it hatli attained to the ful point of efificacy 
 & perfect accomplishment you your selues shall bee 
 iudges, for touching this & other things concerning 
 my profit, & the managing of great affaires, I refer 
 my self to your counsels, & therunto am fully deter- 
 mined to yeeld, as being those y* trample vnder 
 your feet the murtherers of my father, & despise the 
 ashes of him that hath polluted and violated the 
 spouse of his brother, by him massacred, y* hath 
 committed felony against his Lord, traiterously as- 
 sailed the majesty of his king & odiously thralled 
 his contry vnder seruitude and bondage, & you his 
 loyall subiects from whom he bereauing your liberty, 
 feared not to ad incest to parricide, detestable to al 
 the world, to you also it belongeth by dewty & rea- 
 son commonly to defend & protect Hamlet the 
 minister, and executor of iust vengeance who being 
 iealous of your honour & reputation, hath hazarded 
 himself, hoping you will serue him for fathers, de- 
 fenders, & tutors, & regarding him in pity, restore 
 him to his goods and inheritances, It is I y' haue 
 taken away the infamy of my contry, and extin- 
 guished the fire y* imbraced your fortunes, I haue 
 washed the spots y' defiled the reputation of the 
 queen, ouerthrowing both the tirant & the tiranny 
 and beguiling the subtilities of the craftiest deceiu- 
 er in the world, and by that meanes brought his 
 wickednes and impostures to an end ; I was grieued 
 at the iniurie committed both to my father, & my 
 natiue countr)'-, and haue slaine him that vsed more 
 rigorus commandements ouer you, then was either 
 iust or conuenient to be used vnto men that haue 
 commaunded the valiantest nations in the world. 
 Seeing then he was such a one to you, it is reason, 
 that you acknowledge the benefit & thinke wel of 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 327 
 
 for the good I had done your posterity, & admiring 
 my spirit & wisdome, chuse me your king, if you 
 think me worthy of the place, you see I am the au- 
 thor of your preseruation, heire of my fathers king- 
 dome, not straying in any point from his vertuous 
 action, no murtherer, violent parricide, nor man y* 
 euer offended any of you but only the vitious, I am 
 lawfull successor in the kingdome, and iust reuenger 
 of a crime aboue al others most grieuous & punish- 
 able : it is to me, that you owe the benefit of your 
 liberty receaued, and of the subuersion of that ty- 
 ranny y* so much afflicted you : that hath troden 
 vnder feete the yoke of the tirant, and ouerwhelmed 
 his throne, and taken y^ scepter out of the hands, 
 of him that abused a holy and iust authoritie, but it 
 is you y* are to recompence those y* haue well de- 
 serued, you know what is the reward of so greate 
 desert, & being in your hands to distribute the same, 
 it is of you, that I demand the price of my vertue 
 and the recompence of my victory. 
 
 This oration of the yong prince so mooued the 
 harts of the Danes, and wan the affections of the 
 nobility, that some wept for pity other for ioy, to 
 see the wisedome and gallant spirit of Hamlet, and 
 hauing made an end of their sorrow, al with one con- 
 sent proclaimed him king of y^^i"/^ and Ckersonnese, Hamiet 
 at this present the proper country of Denniarke, and p^"f ^°p°°* 
 having celebrated his coronation, and receiued the mark, 
 homages and fidelities of his subjects, he went into 
 England to fetch his wife, and reioyced with his 
 father in law, touching his good fortune, but it 
 wanted little that the king of England had not ac- 
 complished that which Fengon with all his subtil- 
 ities could neuer attaine. 
 
328 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How Hamlet after his coronation went into England, 
 and how the king of England secretly would haue 
 put him to death, and how he slew the king of 
 England : and returned againe into Denmarke 
 with two wiues, and what followed. 
 
 Hamlet being in England shewed the King what 
 meanes hee had wrought to recouer his kingdom, 
 but when the king of England vnderstood of Fen- 
 gons death, he was both abashed and confused in his 
 minde, at that instant feeling himselfe assailed with 
 two great passions, for that in times past, he and 
 Fengon hauing bin companions together in armes, 
 had giuen each other their faith & promises, by oath, 
 that if either of them chanced to bee slaine by any 
 man whatsoeuer, hee that suruiued (taking the quar- 
 rel vpon him as his owne) should neuer cease till he 
 were reuenged or at the leaste do his endeauour. 
 This promise incited the barbarous king to massacre 
 Hamlet, but the alliance, presenting it selfe before, 
 his eies, and beholding the one deade although his 
 friend, and the other aliue, and husband to his daugh- 
 ter, made him deface ^ his desire of reuenge. But 
 in the end the conscience of his oath and promise 
 obtained the vpper hand, and secretly made him 
 conclude the death of his sonne in law, which 
 enterprise after that was cause of his own death 
 and ouerrunning of the whole country of England 
 by the cruelty and despight conceiued by the 
 King of Denmarke. I haue purposely omitted 
 the discourse of that battaile, as not much per- 
 tinent to our matter, as also, not to trouble you 
 with too tedious a discourse, being content to shew 
 you the end of this wise & valiant king Hamlet, who 
 
 ' [ Mr. Collier proposed to read defer7[ 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 329 
 
 reuenging himselfe vpon so many enemies, & discou- 
 ering all the treasons practised against his life, in 
 the end serued for a sport to fortune, & an example 
 to all great personages, that trust ouermuch to the 
 felicities of this world, y* are of small moment, Sz: 
 lesse continuance. 
 
 The king of England perceiuing that hee could 
 not easilie effect his desire vpon the king his son in 
 lawe, as also not being willing to break the laws, & 
 rights of Hospitality, determined to make a stranger 
 the reuenger of his iniury, & so accomplish his oath 
 made to Fengon without defiling his handes w* the 
 blood of the husband of his daughter, & polluting 
 his house by the traiterous massacring of his friend. 
 In reading of this history it seemeth Hamlet should 
 resemble an other Hercules, sent into diuers places 
 of the world, by Euristheus (solicited by luno) 
 where he knew any dangerous aduenture, thereby to 
 ouerthrow & destroy him, or else Bellerophon sent 
 to Ariobatus to put him to death, or (leaving pro- 
 phane histories,) an other Vrias by King Dauid ap- 
 pointed to bee placed in the fore front of the bat- 
 taile, and the man that should bee first slain by the 
 Barbarians. For the King of Englands wife being 
 dead not long before, (although he cared not for 
 marrying an other woman) desired his sonne in lawe 
 to make a voyage for him into Scotland, flattering 
 him in such sort, that he made him beleeue that his 
 singular wisdome caused him to preferre him to that 
 Embassage, assuring himselfe that it were impossible 
 that Hamlet the subtillest & wisest prince in the 
 worlde should take anything in the world in hand 
 without effecting the same. 
 
 Now the queen of Scots beeing a maid and of a 
 haughty courage, despised marriage with al men, as 
 not esteeming any worthy to be her companion, in 
 such manner that by reason of this arrogant opinion 
 there neuer came any man to desire her loue but she 
 
33° THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 caused him to loose his life: but the Danish Kings 
 fortune was so good that Hermetrude (for so was the 
 queens name,) hearing that Hamlet was come thither 
 to intreat a marriage between her and the king of 
 England, forgot all her pride, & dispoiling herselfe of 
 her sterne nature, being as then determined to make 
 him (being the greatest prince as then lining) 
 her husband, & deprive the English princesse of her 
 spouse whome shee thought fit for no men' but 
 herself, & so this Amazon without loue disdaining 
 Cupid, by her free wil submitted her haughtie mind 
 to her concupiscence. The Dane arriving in her 
 court, desired she to see the old king of Englands 
 letters & mocking at his fond appetites, whose blood 
 as then was half congealed, cast her eies vpon the 
 yong and plesant Adonis of the North, esteemcing 
 her selfe happy to haue such a pray fall into her 
 hands wherof she made her ful account to haue the 
 possession, & to conclude she y' neuer had been ouer- 
 come by the grace, courtesie, valor or riches of anie 
 prince nor Lord whatsoeuer, was as then vanquished 
 w* the onelie report of the subtilties of the Dane 
 who knowing that he was already fianced to the 
 daughter of the king of England, spake vnto him & 
 said, I neuer looked for so great a blisse, neither 
 from the Gods, nor yet from fortune, as to behold in 
 my countries, the most compleate prince in the 
 norf;h, & he that hath made himselfe famous & 
 renowned through all the nations of the world, as 
 well neighbours as strangers, for the only respect of 
 his vertue wisdom & good fortune, seruing him much 
 iu the pursuite & effect of diuers thinges by him 
 vndertaken, & thinke my selfe much beholding to 
 the king of England (although his malice seeketh 
 neither my aduancement nor the good of you my 
 
 ' [So the old copy ; perhaps, as suggested by Mr. Collier, we 
 should read onei\ 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 331 
 
 Lord) to do me so much honor as to send me so 
 excellent a man to intreate of a marriage (he being 
 olde & a mortal enemy to me and mine) with mee 
 that am such a one as euery man seeth, is not 
 desirous to couple with a man of so base quality 
 as he, whom you haue said to be y° son of a 
 slave, but on the other side I maruel y* the son 
 of Horuendile, and grand-child to king Roderick, 
 he that by his foolish wisedom, & fained madnesse 
 surmounted the forces & subtilties of Fengon, & 
 obtained the kingdom of his aduersary, should so 
 much imbase himself, (hauing otherwise bin very 
 wise and vvel aduised, in all his actions) touching his 
 bed-fellow, & hee that for his excellency and valor 
 surpasseth humane capacity, should stoope so lowe 
 as to take to wife her that issuing from a seruile 
 race, hath only the name of a king for her father, 
 for that the basenes of her blood, will alwaies cause 
 her to shewe what are the vertues & noble qualities 
 of hir ancestors : and you my Lord said she, are 
 you so ignorant as not to know that mariage should 
 not bee measured by any foolish opinion, of an out- 
 ward beautie, but rather by vertues and antiquitie 
 of race, which maketh the wife to be honored for 
 her prudence, and neuer degenerating from the 
 integritie of his ancestors : exterior beawty also is 
 nothing where perfection of y® mind doth not 
 accomplish, & adorn that whicla is outwardly seen 
 to be in the bodie, and is lost by an accident, & 
 occurrence of small moment: as also such toyes 
 haue deceiued many men, & drawing them like 
 inticing baits, haue cast them headlong into the gulf 
 of their ruine, dishonor, and vtter ouerthrow, it was 
 I to whom this advantage belonged being a queen, 
 & such a one, as for nobility may compare my selfe 
 with the greatest princes in Europe, being nothing 
 inferiour vnto any of them neither for antiquitie of 
 blood, nobilitie of parents, nor abundance of riches, 
 
332 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 
 
 & am not only a Queene, but such a one, as that 
 receiuing whom I will for my companion in bed, can 
 make him beare the title of a king, & with my body 
 giue him possession of a great kingdome, & goodly 
 prouince, think then my Lord how much I account 
 of your alliance, who being accustomed with the 
 sword to pursue such as durst imbolden themselues 
 to win my love, it is to you only to whom I make a 
 present both of my kisses, imbracings scepter, & 
 crown : what man is he if he be not made of stone, 
 would refuse so pretious a pawn as Hermetrude with 
 y^ kingdome of Scotland ? accept sweete king, 
 accepte this Queene, who w* so great loue & amitie, 
 desireth your so great profit, & can giue you more 
 contentment in one day then the princesse of 
 England wold yeeld you pleasure during hir life, & 
 although shee surpasse me in beawty, her bloud 
 beeing base it is fitter for such a king as you are to 
 chuse Hermetrude, less beautiful but noble & famous, 
 rather then the English Lady with great beawtie, 
 but issuing from an vnknown race, without any title 
 of honor: now think if the Dane hearing such forci- 
 ble resons & vnderstanding y* by her which he half 
 doubted as also moued w* choUer for the treason of 
 his father in law, y* purposely sent him thether to 
 loose his life, & being welcomed, kist, and playd 
 withal by this queen, yong, & reasonable faire, if he 
 were not easie enough to be conuerted, & like to 
 forget the affection of his first wife, w* this to enioy 
 the realme of Scotland, & so open the waie to 
 become king of all greate Britain, y* to conclude he 
 marryed her & led her. with him to the king of 
 Englands, court which moued the king from that 
 time forward much more to seek the meanes, to 
 bereaue him of his life, & had surely done it, if his 
 daughter, Hamlets other wife, more careful of him 
 y* had reiected her then of her fathers welfare, had 
 not discovered the enterprise to Hamlet saying, I 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 333 
 
 know well my Lord, y* the alurements & perswasions 
 of a bold & altogether shameles woman, being more 
 lasciuious then the chast imbracements of a lawful 
 and modest wife, are of more force to intice and 
 charm the sences of yong men : but for my part I 
 cannot take this abuse, for satisfaction to leaue mee 
 in this sorte, without all cause reason or precedent 
 faulte once knowne in mee your loyall spouse, & take 
 more pleasure in the aliance of her who one day will 
 be the cause of your mine, and ouerthrow, and 
 although a iust cause of iealousye and reasonable 
 motion of anger, dispence with mee at this time, to 
 make no more account of you then you do of me, 
 that am not worthy to be so scornfully reiected, yet 
 matrimoniall charitie shal haue more force & vigour 
 in my hart, then the disdaine which 1 haue iustly 
 conceiued to see a concubine hold my place and a 
 strange woman before my face inioy the pleasures 
 of my husband. This iniury my Lord although 
 great & offensiue which to reuenge diuers Ladies of 
 great renown haue in times past sought & procured 
 the death of their husbands, cannot so much restrain 
 my good wil, but that [I] may not chuse but aduer- 
 tise you what treason is deuised against you, 
 beseeching you to stand vpon your guard for that 
 my fathers onely seeking is to bereaue you of your 
 life, which if it happen, I shall not long liue after 
 you. Manie reasons induse me to loue and cherish 
 you, and those of great consequence, but specially 
 and aboue all the rest, I am and must bee carefull 
 of you, when I feele your child stirring in my 
 wombe ; for which respecte, without so much for- 
 getting yourself, you ought to make more account 
 of me then of your concubine: whome I will loue 
 because you loue her, contenting my selfe that your 
 Sonne hateth her, in regard to the wrong she doth 
 to his mother: for it is impossible that any passion 
 or trouble of the mind whatsoeuer can quench those 
 
334 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 fierce passions of loue, that made me yours, neither 
 that I shold forget your fauours past, when loyallie 
 you sought the loue of the daughter of the king of 
 England, neither is it in the power of that thiefe 
 that hath stoln your heart, nor my fathers choller, 
 to hinder me, from seeking to preserue you from the 
 cruelty of your dissembling friend (as heertofore by 
 counterfetting the madman, you preuented the 
 practises, & treasons of your Uncle Fengon) the 
 complot being determined to be executed vpon you 
 & yours, without this aduertisement, the Dane had 
 surely been slain, & the Scots y* came with him for 
 the King of England inuiting his son in Law to a 
 banquet w* the greatest curtesies y* a friend can 
 vse to him whom he loued as himself, had the 
 means to intrap him, and cause him dance a pittiful 
 galliard, in that sort ; to celebrate the marriage 
 betweene him and his new lady. But Hamlet went 
 thither with armor vnder his clothes, & his men in 
 like sort, by which means, he and his escaped with 
 little hurt, and so after that hapned the battaile 
 before spoken of, wherein the king of England los- 
 ing his life, his countrie was the third time sacked 
 by the barbarians of the ilands, & countrie of 
 Denmark. 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 How Hamblet being in Denmarke, was assailed by 
 Wiglerus his vncle, and after betrayed by his last 
 wife, called Hermetrude, and was slaine : after 
 whose death she married his enemie, Wiglerus. 
 
 Hamlet having obtained the victory against the king 
 of England, and slaine him, laden with great treasures 
 and accompanied with his two wiues, set forward to 
 saile into Denmarke, but by the way hee had intelli- 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 335 
 
 gence, that Wiglere his vncle, and sonne to Rodericke, 
 hauing taken the royall treasure from his sister Geruth 
 (mother to Hamblet) had also seazed vpon the king- 
 dome : saying, that neither Horuendile nor any of his 
 helde it but by permission, and that it was in him (to 
 whom the property belonged) to giue the charge ther- 
 of to whom he would. But Hamblet not desirous to 
 have any quarrel with the sonne of him, from whom 
 his Predecessors had receiued their greatnes and ad- 
 uancement, gaue such and so rich presents to Wig- 
 lere, that he being contented withdrew himselfe out 
 of the countrey & territories of Geruths sonne. But 
 within certaine time after, Wiglere, desirous to 
 keepe all the countrey in subiection, intyced by the 
 conquest of Scanie, and Sialandie, and also that 
 Hermetrude (the wife of Hamlet, whom he loued Hermetrudo 
 more than himselfe) had secret intelligence with him nlmkt'her 
 and had promised him marriage, so he would take husband. 
 her out of the handes of him that held her, sent to 
 defie Hamlet, and proclaimed open warre against 
 him. Hamlet like a good and wise prince, louing 
 especially the welfare of his subiects, sought by all 
 meanes to auoide that warre, but againe refusing it, 
 he perceiued a great spot and blemish in his honor, 
 and accepting the same, hee knewe it would bee the 
 ende of his dayes : by the desire of preseruing his 
 life on the one side, & his honor on the other side 
 pricking him forward ; but at the last remembring 
 that neuer any danger whatsoeuer had once shaken 
 his vertues and constancy, chose rather the necessitie 
 of his ruine, then to loose the immortall fame that 
 valiant and honourable men obtained in the warres ; 
 and there is as much difference betweene a life with- 
 out honour and an honourable death, as glory & 
 renowne is more excellent then dishonour and euiil 
 report. 
 
 But the thing that spoyled this vertuous Prince, 
 was the ouer great trust & confidence hee had in his 
 
336 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 
 
 wife Hermetrude, and the vehement loue hee bare 
 vnto her, not once repenting the wrong in that case 
 done to his lawfull spouse, and for the which (parad- 
 uenture that misfortune had neuer hapned vnto 
 him, and it would neuer haue bin thought, that she 
 whom he loued aboue all things, would haue so vil- 
 lainously betrayed him), hee not once remembring 
 his first wiues speeches, who prophesied vnto him, 
 that the pleasures hee seemed to take in his other 
 wife, would in the end be the cause of his over- 
 throwe, as they had rauished him of the best part of 
 his sences, & quenched in him the great prudence 
 that made him admirable in all the countries in the 
 ocean seas, and through all Germany, now the great- 
 est grief, that this king (besotted on his wife) had, 
 was the separation of her whom he adored, and, 
 assuring himselfe of his ouerthrowe, was desirous, 
 either that shee might beare him company at his 
 death, or els to find her a husband that should 
 loue her (he beeing dead) as well as euer hee did : but 
 the disloyall queene, had already prouided her selfe 
 of a marriage, to put her husband out of trouble and 
 care for that : who perceiuing him to be sad for her 
 sake, when shee should haue absented her selfe from 
 him, she to blind him the more, and to incourage 
 him to set forward to his owne destruction, prom- 
 ised to follow him whether soeuer he went, & to 
 take the like fortune that befell to him, were it good 
 or euil, and that so she would giue him cause to 
 know, how much shee surpassed the English woman 
 in her affection towardes him, saying, that woman is 
 accursed that feareth to follow and accompany her 
 husband to the death : so that to heare her speake, 
 men would haue sayd that shee had beene the wife 
 of Mithridates, or Zenobia queene of Palmira, shee 
 made so greate a show of loue and constancy : But 
 by the effect it was after easily perceiued, how vaine 
 the promise of this vnconstant and wauering Prin- 
 
slain e. 
 
 PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 337 
 
 cesse was : and howe vncomparable the life of this 
 Scottish Queene was to the vigor of her chastitie, 
 being a mayd before she was married. For that 
 Hamlet had no sooner entred into the field, but she 
 found meanes to see Wiglere, and the battel begun, 
 wherein the miserable Danish Prince was slaine : Hamiet 
 but Hermetrude presently yeelded her self, with 
 all her dead husbands treasons, into the hand of the 
 Tyrant : who more then content with that metamor- 
 phosis so much desired, gaue order that presently 
 the marriage (bought with the blood and treasor of 
 the Sonne of Horuendile) should bee celebrated. 
 
 Thus you see, that there is no promise or deter- 
 mination of a woman, but that a very small discom- 
 moditie of Fortune mollifieth and altereth the same, 
 and which time doeth not peruert ; so that the mis- 
 fortunes subject to a constant man shake and over- 
 throwe the naturall slipperie loyaltie of the vari- 
 able steppes of women, wholy without any ' faith- 
 full assurance of loue, or true vnfained constancy: 
 for as a woman is readie to promise so isshee heauy 
 and slowe to performe, and effect that which she 
 hath promised, as she that is without end or limit in 
 her desires, flattringher selfe in the diuersitie of her 
 wanton delights, and taking pleasure in diuersitie 
 and change of newe things, which as soone shee doth 
 forget and growe weary off: and to conclude, such 
 shee is in all her actions, she is rash, couetous, and 
 vnthankefull, whatsoeuer good or seruice bee done 
 vnto her. But nowe I perceiue I erre in my dis- 
 course, vomiting such things vnworthy of this sects, 
 but the vices of Hermetrude haue made mee say 
 more then I meant to speake, as also the Authour, 
 from whence I take this Hystorie, hath almost made 
 mee hold his course, I finde so great a sweetnesse 
 and liuelinessein this kinde of Argument: and the 
 
 ' [Old copy reads, and any.] 
 
338 THE HYSTORIE OF If AMBLE T, 
 
 rather because it seemeth so much the truer, con- 
 sidering the miserable successe of poore king Ham- 
 let. 
 
 Such was the ende of Hamlet, sonne to Horuen- 
 dile, Prince of Jutie: to whom if his Fortune had 
 been equall with his inward and naturall giftes, I 
 know not which of the auncient Grecians and Rom- 
 ans had beene able to haue compared with him for 
 vertue and excellencie: but hard fortune following 
 him in all his actions, and yet hee vanquishing the 
 malice of his time, with the vigour of constancy, 
 hath left vs a notable example of haughtie courage, 
 worthy of a great Prince, arming himselfe with hope 
 in things that were wholy without any colour or 
 shewe thereof, and in all his honorable actions 
 made himselfe worthy of perpetuall memorie, if one 
 onely spotte had not blemished and darkened a good 
 part of his prayses. For that the greatest victorie, 
 that a man can obtain is to make himselfe victor- 
 ious, and lord ouer his owne affections, and that re- 
 straineth the vnbridled desires of his concupiscence : 
 for if a man be neuer so princely, valiant, and wise, if 
 the desires and inticements of his flesh preuaile, and 
 have the vpper hand, he will imbase his credite, and 
 gasing after strange beauties become a foole, and (as 
 it were) incensed, dote on the presence of women. 
 This fault w:as in the great Hercules, Sampson, and 
 the wisest man that euer liued vpon the earth follow- 
 ing this traine, therein impaired his wit, and the 
 most noble, wise, valiant and discreet personages of 
 our time, following the same course haue left vs 
 many notable examples of their worthy and notable 
 vertues. 
 
 But I beseech you that shall reade this Hystorie, 
 not to resemble the Spider, that feedeth of the cor- 
 ruption that shee findeth in the flowers and fruite? 
 that are in the Gardens, whereas the Bee gathereth 
 her hony, out of the best and fayrest flower shee can 
 
PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 339 
 
 finde : for a man that is well brought vp should 
 reade the Hues of whoremongers, drunkards, inces- 
 tuous, violent and bloody persons, not to follow 
 their steps, and so to defile himselfe with such vn- 
 deannesse, but to shunne paliardize, abstain the 
 superfluities and drunkennesse in banquets, and fol- 
 low the modestie, courtesie, and continencie that 
 recommendeth Hamlet, in this discourse, who while 
 other made good cheare, continued sober, and where 
 all men sought as much as they could, to gather 
 together riches and treasure, hee simply accounting 
 riches nothing comparable to honor, sought to 
 gather a multitude of vertues, that might make him 
 equall to those that by them were esteemed as Gods, 
 hauing not as then receiued the lighte of the Gos- 
 pell, that men might see among the Barbarians, and 
 them that were farre from the knowledge of one 
 onelye God, that nature was.prouoked to follow that 
 which is good and those forward to imbrace vertue 
 for that there was neuer any nation how rude or 
 barbarous soever that tooke not some pleasure to do 
 that which seemed good, therby to win praise, and 
 commendations, which wee haue said to be the re- 
 ward of vertue, and good life, I delight to speak of 
 these strange histories, and of people that were vn- 
 christned, that the vertue of the rude people male 
 giue more splendor, to our nation who seeing them 
 so compleat,' wise, prudent, and well aduised in 
 their actions, might striue not only to follow (imita- 
 tion being a small matter) but to surmount them as 
 our religion surpasseth their superstition, and our 
 age more purged subtill, and gallant, then the season 
 wherin they lined and made their vertues knowne. 
 
 ' [The last lines from " compleat " to the end taper after the 
 manner of books of the time.] 
 
 FINIS.