In the first scene of the fourth act, Globe edition, the Queen, speaking of Hamlet, says:
“To draw apart the body he hath killed,
O’er whom his very madness, like some ore
Among a mineral of metals base,
Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.”
These lines are omitted in the acting-versions. Perhaps, if they were inserted, many actors might consider it necessary to show more concern for the death of Polonius than has hitherto been the stage practice.
The fifth scene, Globe edition, is the second scene in French’s, and the fourth in Cumberland’s. I think it would add to the dignity of Horatio’s character if, as directed in the second quarto, the Queen and Horatio entered with “a gentleman,” who brings news of Ophelia’s mental derangement. Horatio is not a servant, nor even a gentleman-in-waiting; but a visitor from Wittenberg. The Queen, having lost her son, would naturally seek the society of his bosom friend. The stage-direction in the first quarto for Ophelia’s entrance should be noticed; I should like to see it inserted in the acting-edition: “Enter Ophelia playing on a lute, with her hair hanging down, singing.” This, no doubt, is how she appeared on Burbage’s stage. I can imagine Ophelia entering as if she were wandering about the corridors of the palace singing and muttering to herself unconscious of what she was saying, where she was going, or to whom she was speaking; the imbecility of a pretty young girl who had been, at one time, fond of her songs as of her sewing. In the acting-edition the stage-direction for the second entrance describes her as being “fantastically dressed with straws and flowers,” but there is no similar direction in the quartos or folio. Ophelia has very little time allowed her to go anywhere, and certainly not beyond the palace precincts, where she might not find straws or daisies. Shakespeare may have intended the flowers to be imaginary ones to which she refers that the audience may anticipate her ramble beyond the palace to make garlands in the meadows. Songs were rarely sung on the stage unaccompanied, and it must be remembered that Ophelia was a court lady, more accustomed to handle the lute than to pick wildflowers. The third scene of the fourth act, being the fifth scene in the Globe edition, I have never seen acted on the stage. The omission is, perhaps, not important, except that the spectators are left ignorant as to the cause of Hamlet’s return. From the fourth act 303 lines have been omitted in the acting-version.
Coming now to the fifth act, the stage-direction for Ophelia’s burial, both in the Globe and acting-editions, is as follows: “Enter Priests, etc., in Procession, the corpse of Ophelia, Laertes, and Mourners following, King, Queen, their Trains, etc.” This direction is hardly consistent with Hamlet’s description, “Such maimed rites.” I should prefer the direction in the first quarto: “Enter King and Queen, Laertes and other Lords, with a Priest after the coffin.” The absence of religious ceremony should attract the attention of the audience as much as it does Hamlet’s. I should like to see only one Priest present, and the coffin borne by soldiers or villagers, not by monks or nuns. It is often the stage practice for the Priest to stand over the grave with a book in his hand and intone his lines (replies to Laertes’ questions) as if they were part of the burial service. A rather erroneous conception of Shakespeare’s churlish Priest, who objects to the funeral taking place on sacred ground, and refuses even to approach the grave.
In the first quarto, at the words “What’s he that conjures so,” is written the stage-direction, “Hamlet leaps in after Laertes,” and I find that Oxberry’s edition has the same direction, only inserted a little lower down. I presume, therefore, that the elder Kean did actually leap into the grave. Our modern Hamlets would object to this business as undignified, and perhaps it is; but, at the same time, Hamlet’s public apology to Laertes in the last scene requires some marked movement of his in this scene. He owns himself that he was in a towering passion. Laertes may handle Hamlet roughly, but not till Hamlet has interfered with him.
None of our stage Hamlets appear in the churchyard in any change of costume. From the familiar way in which the clown talks to Hamlet, and Hamlet’s declaration, “Behold, ’tis I, Hamlet, the Dane,” I imagine that Shakespeare intended Hamlet to be dressed in some disguise in this scene. When Hamlet, writing to the King, says, “Naked and alone,” he may not only mean unarmed, but stripped of his fine clothes, so that it would not be inappropriate for him to appear at the grave in some common sailor’s dress. In the second scene in this act Hamlet says, “With my sea-gown scarf’d about me,” a line that also would furnish some excuse for change of costume. Both in the first quarto and the folio the lines, “This is mere madness,” etc., are spoken by the King. The acting-edition follows the second quarto, and gives the lines to the Queen. The King had good reason to impress upon others the belief that Hamlet is mad; and when the villagers hear the taunt they should shun the lunatic.
The second scene is divided in the stage-version; and now that it has become the custom to lower the curtain for each change of scene, I would suggest that the churchyard-scene be changed at once to the hall where the duel takes place. The forcing of this duel upon Hamlet by the King would be better shown by the King and all the court coming down to Hamlet than Hamlet’s going to them. It is the difference between his going to meet death and death coming to him.
In this second scene of the acting-edition there is a line of the King’s omitted, which, perhaps, if it were inserted, would cause an alteration in the stage-business connected with it. The King says: “Give me the cups,” showing that more than one cup is brought to the King, one of them, probably, containing the poison. In this cup the King places his jewel, to insure Hamlet’s drinking out of it. On the stage it is the common practice to use only one cup, and to imagine that the pearl contains the poison.
I have before expressed my regret that the play should end at Hamlet’s death. Shakespeare would have considered the play unfinished, and even the partisans of stage effect would lose nothing by the introduction of Fortinbras. The distant sound of the drum, the tramp of soldiers, the gradual filling of the stage with them, the shouts of the crowd outside, the chieftain’s entrance fresh from his victories, and the tender, melancholy young prince, dead in the arms of his beloved friend, are material for a fine picture, a strong dramatic contrast. Life in the midst of death! Was not this Shakespeare’s conception? From the last act 219 lines have been omitted.