In this condition she suffers herself to be used that her mad lover may be overheard. An actress in this character must employ all her skill, in order to show how painful to Ophelia this unworthy part is; to know that, in this interview with her lover, her father and the King are listening to every word; that she is to see him no more, when she had so much to say to him; and to feel herself forced to show herself to him in this strange, unnatural attitude, compelled to bear all his reproaches, his bitterness, bordering on brutality, and not daring to breathe a word in vindication of herself, until at last, when she is no longer observed, she breaks out into lamentation. Certainly, a most involved task for the artist! Instead of this, one commonly sees on the stage, in Ophelia, a maiden taking everything very quietly, while the prince is suffering, complaining, and sentimental, and thus the poet is completely misrepresented.

[Page 266.] At the acting of the play before the court, Ophelia has to endure all sorts of coarseness from Hamlet before all the courtiers; he treats her without that respect which she appears to him to have long before forfeited. The prince is sent away, her father has been killed by him, and her anguish, long pent up, her deserted state, the remembrance of happy hours,-all overwhelm her and overpower her tottering understanding.

Of Laertes less is to be said. It is enough that the actor does not allow himself to be misled into representing him as a noble and affectionate son and brother. In the beginning he appears merely as a gallant of those days. He warns Ophelia in beautiful set phrases, in which he loves to hear himself speak, as indeed is the case with all the persons of the drama.

[Page 270.] The Ghost must have been one of Schroeder's most artistic and impressive representations. I am convinced of it, although I never saw him in this part. But what has since passed on the German stage for an imitation of this great artist is certainly not to be commended. I mean that slow, dull, monotonous recitation, accompanied by hardly a gesture, whereby the scene drags, and the illusion is greatly disturbed. The old Hamlet no longer has flesh and blood; but he has all human passions, anger, revenge, jealousy. Although modified, his utterance should be felt to be pathetic. He must express himself in intonation and by gestures. In both theatres in London the Ghost was simply ridiculous, stalking up and down, without grace or dignity, and speaking his part as if it were a cold-blooded lecture. Is it necessary to consider this soliloquy [To be or not to be,' &c.] as having reference to suicide? Did Shakespeare really mean it so? It could not have been so understood in Shakespeare's time, although we have no evidence bearing on the point. As often as Hamlet was acted by the poet's contemporaries, this character and this soliloquy were made subjects of criticism and ridicule. [The course of Hamlet's feelings is here traced by TIECK, from the beginning of the tragedy until it reaches the intense dissatisfaction with himself, expressed in the monologue after the Player had recited the passage about the rugged Pyrrhus;' this dissatisfaction, however, is soothed by the prospect of the play wherein the conscience of the King is to be caught; this relief lasts only for a moment, and Hamlet begins to ask himself why it is that he cannot carry out his revenge; and it is in this self-searching mood that we next see him. TIECK finds fault with the present division into Acts. The Second Act, he says, should end with what is now III, i, whereby the two monologues should be brought into closer connection. He then proceeds to give the following explanation of To be or not to be,' &c.; an explanation that I believe has never found favor with any one, except TIECK'S warm personal friend and

admirer, Freih. v. FRIESEN, who acknowledges that TIECK was anticipated by ZIEGLER. See p. 315. ED.]

[Page 282.] It comes to this, he says to himself (the spectator is understood to keep in mind all that precedes, and to follow this apparent leap in Hamlet's thoughts): the only point is whether a man live or do not live, i. e. more than life I cannot risk and lose, so that the only thing is life, whether I set all upon that. This consideration is altogether just; it has often been expressed, who fears not Death need fear nothing else. But, he continues after a pause, it may be the greatest magnanimity calmly to bear the worst, to practice that patience which is commended as Christian, and which requires as much strength and greatness of soul as positive resistance: 'Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them,' i.e. these troubles: but how? By suicide? What then is meant by this opposing,' this positive resistance? Would taking arms, then, be fitting, if the arms were to be directed against him who took them up? No, it is these troubles that I seek to annihilate; it is my opponent that I am to put an end to. This must I accomplish,

in case my patience does not suffice, if I do not possess strength enough, to keep from valuing my own life too highly; for that may be imperilled; but I dare to meet this peril the more readily, as dying is only a release from all earthly burthens.

[Page 288.] By forcing the meaning somewhat, the common interpretation of the soliloquy may be justified, until we come to: 'And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard,' &c. Here, if one goes candidly to work, is a passage difficult, if not impossible, to be reconciled with the idea that self-murder is the one great topic of the soliloquy. Is self-murder an enterprise of great pith and moment? And could Hamlet deceive himself so egregiously as to give such honorable names to the miserable cowardice that prompted him to destroy himself, in order to escape the heavy task imposed upon him? He is no hero; he shows, as he confesses to Ophelia, weaknesses of all sorts; almost everything good and bad in man has been contended for in his character. But it is sinking altogether too low to think seriously of destroying himself, and this out of base fear. I wonder that his friends and admirers can allow him to be thus degraded without turning away with disgust.

A certain disposition to suicide and to a contempt for life, which existed for a while, is partly, perhaps, the cause why this soliloquy has been misunderstood and so excessively admired. But now looking back from its conclusion to all that goes before, and reading it once more according to my understanding of it, we find that all is natural, significant, and fitting. Enterprises of great pith and moment, e. g. to hurl an usurper from the throne, to avenge a murdered father, to take the position of a king, to which birth and the law of the land entitled him, to gain over the army, the nobles, and the people to this revolution,-and these, like all similar great undertakings, are turned awry, and die in the intention, because he who attempts them hesitates, because it is not a matter of indifference to him whether or not he himself perishes in the contest.

PROF. J. F. PRIES (1825)

(Ueber Shakespeare's Hamlet. Rostock, 1825, p. 54.)-Fault has been found with Hamlet's conversation with Ophelia before the court-play begins, and very properly, if it is read without reference to what precedes and what follows. There is one explanation which fully justifies it, although it is true Shakespeare gives no intima

tion thereof. Hamlet is now, as never before, acting at the King. Claudius has attained to his present good fortune through woman's love. Surrounded by court beauties, would he have neglected the chance of casting the lustful eye of an old fop at the fairest of them all; indeed, such a course on the part of her husband would have proved an additional stimulus to the love of such a woman as Gertrude. Hamlet may have suspected it; for he observes keenly. Woe be it, if the uncle succeeds to the thousandth degree in the case of the son as he has been altogether successful in the case of the father. Distracted by such jealous thoughts, Hamlet utters his coarse jests.

K. H. HERMES (1827)

(Ueber Shakespeare's Hamlet und Seine Beurtheiler, Goethe, A. W. Schlegel, und Tieck. Stuttgart, 1827, p. 20.)—' I see a cherub,' &c., IV, iii, 50. In these words is the key to Hamlet's character. He is not precipitate, because, conscious of his worth, he does not despair of the result. He does not overestimate himself, and attribute this result to himself, but he confides in a higher guidance,-without knowing that he has it in his own breast, he trusts to the hand of the Highest, by which that will happen that must. Only in moments of depression, when the flame of passion blazes wildly up in him, does his revenge seem to lag, only then does he reproach himself that his thoughts are not bloody enough. But is this hesitation, dodging, skulking? Does he on this account ever lose sight of his purpose?

L. BOERNE (1829)

(Gesammelte Schriften, Dram. Blätter, 2d Abth., p. 172. Hamburg, 1829.)— Among the plays of the British poet, the scenes of which are laid neither in history nor fable, Hamlet is the only one that has a Northern soil and a Northern heaven. Shakespeare, in his sympathy with Nature, well understood what atmosphere best harmonized with his various characters. To lively wit, to light-winged joy, to quick passion, to the clear, decisive deed, he gave the blue sunny South, where night is only day asleep; the melancholy, brooding, dreamy Hamlet he places in a land of clouds and long nights, under a gray sky, where the day is only a sleepless night. This tragedy holds us imprisoned in the North, the damp dungeon of Nature, and we are cheered, as by a sunbeam penetrating the darkness through a fissure in the wall, when, of a sudden, we hear the glowing word, Rome, and the bright word, France.

The most exact admirers, as well as the warmest friends, of the poet have declared Hamlet his masterpiece. We must define this estimate. Hamlet is not the most admirable of Shakespeare's works; but Shakespeare is most admirable in Hamlet. That is, an extraordinary force astonishes us, not when its activity begins, but when it ceases; only the endurance of a force testifies of its greatness. So here. We wander along the brilliant path of the poet, and as our wonder, having reached the end, turns, wearied, around, we are affronted by Hamlet, whom we had not expected, on our way back. To create him, Shakespeare had to double himself, had to step out of himself; herein he has surpassed himself. But this is not said in the rhetorical language of eulogy, but in the sober terms of description. The play of Hamlet is a colony of Shakespeare's genius, lying under another zone; it has another nature, and obeys other laws than the motherland.

VOL. II.-19

Before the painting hangs a curtain. Let us draw it aside, to examine the painting more narrowly; but the curtain itself is a picture. The nearness of the eye must compensate for the feebleness of the light. First, we cast a look upon the surroundings of our hero, the hero of suffering. Hamlet is not the central point, we have to make him that; we first form his circle, and then place him in it. But, above all things, we must arm ourselves manfully against the error which so often conquers in life as well as on the stage. In life we judge men by their repute; on the stage we believe, without examination, what the virtuous people in the play say and think of the persons represented. This is not the right way; we must ourselves observe and try them. Hamlet is by no means so noble and amiable as he appears to Ophelia; the King is not by far so worthless as Hamlet describes him. Indeed, we must take care lest we prefer the bad uncle to the good nephew.

[Page 178.] When the King suddenly leaves Hamlet's play, it is not because he cannot master his emotion; if that be the reason, he would have left just after the pantomime, which must have taken him by surprise the more, as it was the first thing to startle him. He withdraws simply to save himself, fearing that the play might end seriously, and execution follow upon Hamlet's condemning sentence. Herein he mistook Hamlet; he did not reflect that a strong man, who has once determined upon an act, never threatens beforehand.

[Page 179.] The Queen is a weak thing; she is Hamlet's mother. Her share in the crime remains doubtful; she is a receiver of stolen goods, buys stolen things cheap, and never asks if a theft had been committed. The King's masculine art overpowers her; her son's lamp of conscience, not lighted till midnight, burns only until morning, and she awakes with the sins of the day before.

[Page 182.] Hamlet had seduced Ophelia, and she saw not what she had lost until, by the murder of her father, the loss became irreparable. Happily for her virtue, the etiquette of piety, the policy of morality came to her aid. She loses both her wits and her life, and knows not why.

Beings of this Hamlet's father

Is the Ghost really as lofty a personage as he has so often been described? He enters in armor, but, as it seems to me, only his hull is mailed, his soul is soft and bare. The family likeness between him and his son Hamlet is not to be mistaken. He is a weak, philosophic, winged Ghost, whose home is in the air. sort sing like the birds, whose utterance has no word for its body. speaks fluently, says much and says it rhetorically; we may easily imagine that we are listening to a glorified play-actor. The time permitted to him to walk is so very short, and yet he lets it pass unused. Instead of beginning with the business on hand, his murder, he tells first of his torments in hell, and manifests the greatest pleasure in giving a great poetical picture thereof. He is bent upon making a regular climax, and ending with the greatest horror, his murder by a brother. But this is a fault. The terrible thing about a ghost is, that it appears and speaks; what it does and says, were it never so horrible, is childish in comparison.* The Ghost, moreover, in that other world does not appear to have improved his knowledge of men; if he had, he would have chosen any other than Hamlet to avenge him. Perhaps that was not

* The description which the Ghost gives of the world whence he came, and which precedes the important communication,-is it not a proof of Shakespeare's art? The Ghost could not be made to look like a real ghost on the stage; if he could have been, he would have so startled the spectators that his bare appearance and three or four words would have sufficed. As it was, the Ghost had to tell what he was, and where he came from, in order to supply what was wanting and produce the full effect of a ghost.-TRANSLATOR.

at all the intention of his appearance. He wanders forth into the upper air, seeking some one to be his avenger, but unfortunately in all the court Hamlet was the only one who could communicate with spirits, a Sunday-born child. The Ghost must have Horatio and the other witnesses swear that they would not talk of what they had seen; but he lingers, which was much the more important, to enjoin silence upon his son. His son prates and babbles, and thereby baulks his father's wish and his own purpose. It is true the King is killed at last, yet he is not condemned as the murderer of his brother, but as the murderer of his nephew. The old mole was blind.

[Page 186.] Hamlet is a philosopher of death, a scholar of the night. If the nights are dark, he stands there irresolute, immovable. If they are clear, is it only a moon-dial that shows him the shadow of the hour, he acts unseasonably, and goes about distracted in the deceptive light. Life is to him a grave, the world a churchyard. Therefore the churchyard is his world, his kingdom,-there he is lord. How amiable he appears there! Everywhere else melancholy, there he is cheerful; everywhere gloomy, there he is serene; everywhere else distraught, there he is composed! How excellent, how bright and witty, does he show himself there! Everywhere else depressed by his thoughts on death, among graves he gives us ghostly comfort. While he sneers at life as a dream, he sneers at death as nothing. There is he not weak,-who is strong in the presence of death? There ends all force, all worth, all calculation, all esteem, all contempt, all difference. There Hamlet may, unreproved, forget his father's command. There he need not avenge his father's death. Shall he drag to the scaffold a criminal lying in the last pains of disease? How cruel! To kill in the presence of death, how ridiculous! what childish impatience! It is as if a snail were to affront the coming wind.

[Page 192.] Does Hamlet feign himself mad? He is so. He thinks he is playing with his madness, and it is his madness that plays with him.

[Page 198.] Had a German written Hamlet, I should not have wondered at the work. A German needs but a fair, legible hand. He makes a copy of himself, and Hamlet is done.*

EDUARD GANS (1834)

(Vermischte Schriften. Berlin, 1834, vol. ii, p. 270.)-If Shakespeare's Hamlet is to be characterized in a word, it is the tragedy of the Nothingness of Reflection, or, as even this phrase may be varied, it is the tragedy of the Intellect. The tragic element of the intellect lies herein, that the intellect appears to be the true, and yet it is the untrue; that it is neither the substantial nor does it tolerate the substantial, but that it is only the disintegrating force before whose onslaughts the world would go down, were it not that reason converts this negative power to her service, and makes it organs of true completeness. But, on the other hand, the intellect is the highest, strongest, and greatest power, that which makes man, man; man's jewel and his crown; and therefore the contest between the intellect and the substantial and reasonable is the sphere in which everything true succumbs, and everything true is born again. Hence it is that, next to Faust, Hamlet is the profoundest, boldest, most characteristic tragedy that has ever been written, because its hero succumbs not through that which otherwise is well named human weakness, but through that which one must perforce call human strength, [&c. &c.]

*Dr Döring says that this was written in 1816. Ed.