“To be, or not to be, that is the question,” &c.
This speech is of absolutely universal interest,—and yet to which of all
Shakespeare’s characters could it have been appropriately given but to
Hamlet? For Jaques it would have been too deep, and for Iago too habitual
a communion with the heart; which in every man belongs, or ought to
belong, to all mankind.
_Ib._—
“The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns.”
Theobald’s note in defence of the supposed contradiction of this in the
apparition of the Ghost.
O miserable defender! If it be necessary to remove the apparent
contradiction,—if it be not rather a great beauty,—surely, it were easy to
say, that no traveller returns to this world, as to his home, or
abiding-place.
_Ib._—
“_Ham._ Ha, ha! are you honest?
_Oph._ My lord?
_Ham._ Are you fair?”
Here it is evident that the penetrating Hamlet perceives, from the strange
and forced manner of Ophelia, that the sweet girl was not acting a part of
her own, but was a decoy; and his after speeches are not so much directed
to her as to the listeners and spies. Such a discovery in a mood so
anxious and irritable accounts for a certain harshness in him;—and yet a
wild up-working of love, sporting with opposites in a wilful
self-tormenting strain of irony, is perceptible throughout. “I did love
you once:”—“I lov’d you not:”—and particularly in his enumeration of the
faults of the sex from which Ophelia is so free, that the mere freedom
therefrom constitutes her character. Note Shakespeare’s charm of composing
the female character by the absence of characters, that is, marks and
out-juttings.
_Ib._ Hamlet’s speech:—
“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.”
Observe this dallying with the inward purpose, characteristic of one who
had not brought his mind to the steady acting point. He would fain sting
the uncle’s mind;—but to stab his body!—The soliloquy of Ophelia, which
follows, is the perfection of love—so exquisitely unselfish!
_Ib._ sc. 2. This dialogue of Hamlet with the players is one of the
happiest instances of Shakespeare’s power of diversifying the scene while
he is carrying on the plot.
_Ib._—
“_Ham._ My lord, you played once i’ the university, you say?”
(_To Polonius._)
To have kept Hamlet’s love for Ophelia before the audience in any direct
form, would have made a breach in the unity of the interest;—but yet to
the thoughtful reader it is suggested by his spite to poor Polonius, whom
he cannot let rest.
_Ib._ The style of the interlude here is distinguished from the real
dialogue by rhyme, as in the first interview with the players by epic
verse.
_Ib._—
“_Ros._ My lord, you once did love me.
_Ham._ _So_ I do still, by these pickers and stealers.”
I never heard an actor give this word “so” its proper emphasis.
Shakespeare’s meaning is—“lov’d you? Hum!—_so_ I do still,” &c. There has
been no change in my opinion:—I think as ill of you as I did. Else Hamlet
tells an ignoble falsehood, and a useless one, as the last speech to
Guildenstern—“Why look you now,” &c.—proves.
_Ib._ Hamlet’s soliloquy:—
“Now could I drink hot blood,
And do such business as the bitter day
Would quake to look on.”
The utmost at which Hamlet arrives, is a disposition, a mood, to do
something:—but what to do, is still left undecided, while every word he
utters tends to betray his disguise. Yet observe how perfectly equal to
any call of the moment is Hamlet, let it only not be for the future.
_Ib._ sc. 3. Speech of Polonius. Polonius’s volunteer obtrusion of himself
into this business, while it is appropriate to his character, still
itching after former importance, removes all likelihood that Hamlet should
suspect his presence, and prevents us from making his death injure Hamlet
in our opinion.
_Ib._ The king’s speech:—
“O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven,” &c.
This speech well marks the difference between crime and guilt of habit.
The conscience here is still admitted to audience. Nay, even as an audible
soliloquy, it is far less improbable than is supposed by such as have
watched men only in the beaten road of their feelings. But the final—“all
may be well!” is remarkable;—the degree of merit attributed by the
self-flattering soul to its own struggle, though baffled, and to the
indefinite half-promise, half-command, to persevere in religious duties.
The solution is in the divine _medium_ of the Christian doctrine of
expiation:—not what you have done, but what you are, must determine.
_Ib._ Hamlet’s speech:—
“Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying:
And now I’ll do’t:—And so he goes to heaven:
And so am I revenged? That would be scann’d,” &c.
Dr. Johnson’s mistaking of the marks of reluctance and procrastination for
impetuous, horror-striking, fiendishness!—Of such importance is it to
understand the germ of a character. But the interval taken by Hamlet’s
speech is truly awful! And then—
“My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go.”
O what a lesson concerning the essential difference between wishing and
willing, and the folly of all motive-mongering, while the individual self
remains!
_Ib._ sc. 4.—
“_Ham._ A bloody deed;—almost as bad, good mother,
As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
_Queen._ As kill a king?”
I confess that Shakespeare has left the character of the Queen in an
unpleasant perplexity. Was she, or was she not, conscious of the
fratricide?