Magnum One/Magnum One (Mid-American Digital) (Disc Manufacturing).iso/d2/pcbrs101.arc/HAMLET

Text File | 1990-02-16 | 23KB | 473 lines

<FOLIO TEXT>                                                                    [BR= /I60.62 /J22.20 /K0.0 ]

    The Folio of 1623 (or First Folio) is the standard textual basis for most
of Shakespeare's plays.  However, the later Quartos (Second, Third, and
Fourth) contain excellent versions of Hamlet, and many editors have combined
these Quartos with the First (and later) Folios to derive a published edition
of the play.

    The text given here of "To be, or not to be" is from the First Folio;
the few significant differences from the later Quartos are noted in the cross-
references.

    This famous speech also exists in the First Quarto in a much different
form (see Quarto Text [quarto] for comparison.)

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<TO BE, OR NOT TO BE> ── First Folio version

To be, or not to be ── that is the question:
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?  To die, to sleep ──
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished.  To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream ── Aye, there's the rub,   (Rub[?glossary])
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,             (Coil[?glossary])
Must give us pause.  There's the respect                (Respect[?glossary])
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the poor man's contumely,        (Contumely[?glossary])
The pangs of disprized love, the law's delay,           (Disprized[?glossary])
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes
When he himself might his quietus make                  (Quietus[?glossary])
With a bare bodkin?  Who would these fardels bear,      (Bodkin[?glossary])
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,                  (Fardels[?glossary])
But that the dread of something after death ──
The undiscovered country from whose bourne              (Bourne[?glossary])
No traveler returns ── puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
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,         (Thought[?glossary])
And enterprises of great pith and moment                (Pith[?glossary])
With this regard their currents turn away               (Moment[?glossary])
And lose the name of action.

    (Notes are available on the provenance of this transcription.)

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<THAT IS THE QUESTION>

    It's intriguing how different this monologue is in its first recorded
version, the Quarto of 1603.  (See Quarto Text [quarto].) For example, "that
is the question" is, in the Quarto, "aye, there's the point."  The sense of
the speech is there, and many of the words and phrases, but there the
resemblance ends.  (See Transcription [quarto] for a brief discussion of the
First Quarto as a true copy of Shakespeare's play.)

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<OUTRAGEOUS FORTUNE>

    It's intriguing how often writers grab a phrase from Shakespeare as the
title of a popular work ── such as Forsythe's "The Dogs of War," Steinbeck's
"The Winter of Our Discontent," or even the Bette Midler/Shelley Long film
"Outrageous Fortune."  In an odd way, such borrowing contributes to keeping
Shakespeare alive even for those who've never read or seen one of his plays.

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<BORROWING>

    Hamlet is an especially prized source for borrowed phrases.  An
extraordinary number of them remain in the public consciousness (even when
misquoted):
        "The lady doth protest too much, methinks"
        "Goodnight, sweet prince"
        "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in
            your philosophy"
        "Alas, poor Yorick; I knew him well"
        "Neither a borrower nor a lender be" (along with a half dozen other
            aphorisms from that scene)
and, of course,
        "To be, or not to be ── that is the question"

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<PUBLIC CONSCIOUSNESS>

    The character of Hamlet, like that of Oedipus, has become conversational
shorthand for a particular human trait.  Never mind that Sophocles' hero is
more than a man who makes love to his mother (and that by accident), or that
the Dane is not just a man who ponders when he should act.


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<A MAN WHO PONDERS>

    It's worth noting that when Hamlet does take action, four of the play's
five major characters shuffle off this mortal coil in a mere 45 lines, a
mortality rate even Titus Andronicus is hard pressed to match!

    As any actor will confirm, virtually all of Shakespeare's characters are
rich and complex.  Most importantly, they are characters with contradictions
── which, as Brecht has pointed out, makes them very human.  (Even
Shakespeare's minor characters are multidimensional.)

    Is Hamlet kind?  He is to Horatio, and was to his father, yet he is
exceedingly cruel to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, among others.  Is he unable
to act?  He can't kill his father's murderer when the perfect opportunity
presents itself, yet he casually orders the deaths of two old friends
(Rosencrantz and Guildenstern) and is quite hot-blooded about fighting Laertes
in Ophelia's grave.  Whoever Hamlet is in one scene, we may find another where
he is someone quite different.

    But only in literature is there any expectation that a character is a
constant, that one can use a straight-edge to draw a line through a
character's actions.  Yet you are not the same with your mother as with your
lover, with with a co-worker as with a friend.  If theatre should hold the
mirror up to nature, why accept characters who lack dimension?  (In truth, we
don't ── Shakespeare's plays draw audiences throughout the world, while a
production of a Ben Jonson play is a rarity.  Yet it is Jonson's characters
that can be summed up in a single phrase.)

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<MINOR CHARACTERS>

    Consider young Fortinbras; is he simply the guy at the end who gets the
bodies off a curtainless stage?  As Jan Kott rightly points out, he is
Hamlet's mirror, a young prince unencumbered by the weight of reasoning and
contemplation.  He acts directly, and will have his own way.  He's onstage
but briefly, yet he is an important counterweight to Hamlet himself.  Hamlet
may lose his way in a labyrinth of considerations, but is that Norwegian
paragon of the Me Generation in any way a better man?  Fortinbras' character
is detailed in order that we may weigh our judgment of Hamlet.

    Or consider the two messengers in Act V of Macbeth; in interchanges of
less than a dozen lines each, they detail the transformation of Macbeth's
presence in the kingdom from vital and commanding to tired and out of touch.

    Such characters are easy to pass over in the reading of a Shakespearean
play, especially when they lack obviously "choice" lines.  (Readers invariably
remember Macbeth's porter and overlook his steward Seyton, though their lines
are roughly equal in number.)  It is only in the acting that the richness and
utter theatrical necessity of these roles emerges, especially when good actors
and an alert director are part of the mix.

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<SEA OF TROUBLES>

    The phrase "a sea of troubles" has engendered more editorial attempts at
emendation than perhaps any other line in this play.  Pope suggests "a siege
of troubles;" Singer "th' assay of troubles;" Theobald "a 'say of troubles;"
Hanmer "assailing troubles;" Bailey "the seat of troubles;" and so on.

    Luckily, for every critic who has taken a shot at emending this line, two
have returned fire, finding no need for emendation.  A "sea" might not be the
metaphor that you or I would use here, but it's perfectly apt.  True, it's a
mixed metaphor, not tied to "slings and arrows" or "take arms," but it's only
grammarians who forbid us from mixing metaphors; writers will go their own way
no matter how much the grammarians scream.  Shakespeare mixed metaphors quite
frequently, as do ordinary people in speaking; to assume that the text is
wrong ── even though it makes perfect sense ── on such flimsy grounds seems
rather strange.

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<TO DIE, TO SLEEP>

    Hamlet is probably trying out the argument that death is simply an
extended sleep.  However, Capell would read the reverse sense, Hamlet
doubting at this point in the speech that to die is to sleep.  Hamlet in fact
does consider that view, but not until later (To sleep, perchance to dream).

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<NO MORE>

    Hamlet is saying, "Perhaps to die is to sleep, nothing more."  (He's
simply testing this thesis; he hasn't bought into it, and will reject it
within a few lines.)

    The later Quartos and the Folios have no punctuation after sleep, and
occasional editions have adopted this lack of punctuation.  Unfortunately,
this has caused occasional editors (and more than one actor) to read it as
"To die is to sleep no more."  However, starting with the rest of this
line Hamlet defines that sleep explicitly as death, rendering such an
interpretation without sense.

    (Perhaps they've wandered into the wrong play, since "Macbeth doth murder
sleep.")

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<PUNCTUATION>

    Punctuation was not an exact science 375 years ago; it was often
inconsistent, and many punctuation marks were omitted altogether.  It has been
the practice of most Shakespearean commentators to punctuate the text in the
fashion of their time, making it as easy to read as possible.

    I believe overall this to be a valuable practice, and one I've continued
here.  However, at some point a student of a passage should return to an
unemended Folio text rather than taking a particular editor's word.  This
practice is especially valuable for theatrical directors (and actors, though
so few have the time).  It is vital that an actor's phrasing not be confined
by a punctuation scheme designed for reading rather than speaking.  An
editor's punctuation is not gospel ── nor is the Folio's.  An actor must often
choose between "how do I make this clear?" and "how do I satisfy the
nitpickers who think that these plays should be read rather than performed?"
Since the answer to the latter is, "you can't," most actors will rightfully
concentrate on the former.

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<TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE>

    The later Quartos and the Folios place punctuation after both sleep's:
"To die to sleepe, to sleepe, perchance...."  The punctuation problem suggests
the actor's choice here ── where does Hamlet first consider that sleep may not
remain untroubled by dreams?

    Accept the original punctuation, and perhaps he's mulling it over: "To
die, to sleep, to sleep."  He's just spent four lines equating sleep and
death, after all.  But now comes the "aha" ── "perchance to dream!"

    Put a stop after the first "sleep," and the actor has two equations: to
die is to sleep, and to sleep is ── perhaps ── to dream.  The "aha" comes
between them.

    In any case, it's a trivial point, except to the actor.  (But Shakespeare,
an actor himself, is considered the ultimate actor's playwright, and all of
his scenes are full of such choices.)

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<WHAT DREAMS>

    Furness points out that the actor's emphasis will fall on "what" rather
than on "dreams."  He notes, "It is the kind of dreams from which Hamlet here
recoils, not from the mere fact of dreaming."  Hamlet has dealt with the idea
of dreaming in the previous line.

    As a director, I have sat through countless hours of actors beating me
about the ears with rigidly metrical blank verse.  Acting well is the only
thing on this planet as hard as skiing through a revolving door, yet I have
trouble finding sympathy for "da DUM da DUM da DUM."  This passage is one of
many tests in Shakespeare of an actor's mastery of the material rather than of
the rhythm.

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<MUST GIVE US PAUSE>


    This is a short line (eight beats rather than ten).  Shakespeare commonly
uses such a meter to force a caesura, or short pause, after the fourth or
sixth beat.  The obvious break here follows "pause," but an actor could as
easily take a hint to heighten "there's."  An actor could also choose to
lengthen "must."  (It's not said with extra syllables; it simply takes longer
to say, and is perhaps followed by a micro-pause.)

    Few actors today would allow the word "pause" to be followed by such a
pause, except perhaps in a parody or farce.

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<SCORNS OF TIME>

    Many commentators read "time" as meaning "the times," or "of the age."  In
fact, some go so far as to emend to "scorns of th' time," "scorns o' the
times," or "scorns of tyrants."

    However, in simply living from day to day we endure many abuses, some
real, some without basis, some imagined, yet all felt.  Why not accept this
phrase as it is?

    The awkward First Quarto gives "the scorns and flatt'ry of the world,"
which tends to support the general sense of "time passing" rather than "the
current age."  (For context, see the Note (scorn) [quarto].)

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<THE POOR MAN>

    The Second, Third, and Fourth Quartos read "proud;" the Folios read
"poor," which reading is transcribed here.  Most commentators have pointed out
that one more often suffers contumely (insolent abuse) from a proud or
arrogant man than from a poor man.  They see "poor" as an accidental mis-
transcription of "proud" that occurred when the First Folio was set in type
and that has been perpetuated ever since.

    Their reasoning makes sense.

    Nevertheless, the First Quarto (see Note (poor) [quarto]), despised as
it may be for its inaccuracy and general strangeness, contains in this part of
the soliloquy the phrase "the rich cursed of the poor."  "Poor" is clearly the
proper word here; "proud" would be out of place.  Thus it seems quite possible
that it is the Second Quarto's "proud" that is a mis-transcription, finally
corrected in the more carefully prepared First Folio.  (In addition, this is
not the only place that Hamlet looks down on the poor or lower class; he
scorns the groundlings [those in the "cheap seats"] in his instructions to the
players in the next scene.)  (See also Enumeration of ills.)

    For an actor's edition, I might choose "proud" on the grounds that, having
equal textual merit, it sharpens the meaning for actor and audience.  This not
being such an edition, I'm quite content to accept the Folio reading.

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<ENUMERATION OF ILLS>

    Furness makes an interesting point about this series of travails that
Hamlet feels subjected to: "In the enumeration of these ills, is it not
evident that Shakespeare is speaking in his own person?  As Johnson says,
these are not the ills that would particularly strike a prince."

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<DISPRIZED LOVE>

    The later Quartos give despised ("despiz'd") instead of the Folios'
disprized ("dispriz'd").  A reasonable case could be made for either reading,
although I'd be inclined to accept ── from the context ── the Folio text.  A
love that is undervalued or unrequited (disprized) may perhaps be a more
universal ill than one that is laughed at by the object of affection
(despised).  As Furness writes about this debate, "Scarcely is the ink
dry which has marked out a certain reading before reason and probability seem
to shift to the side of the rejected reading."

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<BARE BODKIN>

    This could well be a small ("bare" as in "barely") dagger rather than an
unsheathed one.

    In the theatre, however, an audience will hear the latter sense.

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<WHO WOULD THESE FARDELS>

    The meter is a bit off here, leading to suppositions of "who'd these
fardels bear," a difference of pronunciation rather than text, or "who would
fardels bear," the text of the later Quartos.

    But the Quarto reading makes little sense compared to the Folios'.  Hamlet
has just listed a series of powerful arguments for escaping life; omitting
"these" simply adds another to the list, one that is quite meaningless ──
having survived some real troubles, should we kill ourselves simply because we
have to shlep some bundles on our back?  However, "who would these fardels
bear" makes fardel a metaphor for the real ills Hamlet has just enumerated.

    As for the rhythm, it requires of an actor but the slightest elision
(don't announce the "w" in "would") to retain both meter and sense.

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<TO GRUNT AND SWEAT>

    Various critics of ages past complained that "grunt" was too low and
graphic a word for the great Shakespeare, replacing it with "groan."  (Are
these critics of the same stock as the folks who insist that plays as "noble"
as these could not have been written by a mere tradesman from the Provinces?)

    As for the first, Knight responds, "The players in their squeamishness
always give us 'groan'; and if they had not the terror of the blank verse
before them, they would certainly inflict 'perspire' upon us."

    And as for the author of the plays, anyone who has ever acted Shakespeare
can have no doubt that Shakespeare was a man of the theatre.  One does not
need to be a nobleman to write extraordinary plays; witness Moliere and
Brecht, to name but two obvious examples.  Moliere, Brecht, and Shakespeare
all lived for the theatre, working theatrefolk in need of an audience, and
their work shares a common thread that is obvious to any actor ── their plays
are populated by very real people.  The reverse also holds; plays written by
"literary giants" with no theatrical connections may be great poetry (e.g.,
Murder in the Cathedral) but make for desperate acting.

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<NO TRAVELER RETURNS>

    Some have said, "But Hamlet has been talking throughout to his father's
ghost, a traveler who did return."  It's a silly quibble, answerable at its
own level: "The ghost is not a traveler who has left the corporeal world for a
sojourn elsewhere, from which he has now returned; he has not returned to this
world in any form such as he left it; nor has he returned to stay."

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<NATIVE HUE>

    Native hue = natural color.

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<PALE CAST OF THOUGHT>

    Many see in this line the crux of Hamlet's character ── he knows he should
take action, but he can't because he thinks too much.  This view seems
simplistic in the extreme, and it is better discussed elsewhere.  (See, for
example, the note on Public Consciousness.)

    What is appropriate here, however, is to note that deriving such an
interpretation of Hamlet from the word "thought" in this section stands on a
misperception of the meaning of thought[?glossary] in this context.  Hamlet
says, "we'd quickly act (to free ourselves of this world) but for our worry
("thought") of what may come after death."

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<GREAT PITH AND MOMENT>


    The Second, Third, and Fourth Quartos all read "pitch" instead of "pith;"
all Folio editions, however, read "pith."  By meaning alone, "pitch" seems the
liklier choice (see Pitch[?glossary]), with "pith" perhaps a misprint made
when the First Folio was set in type.

    From a working director's standpoint, however, "pith" recommends itself
well to performance for a modern audience.  Pith retains a current meaning
(see Pith[?glossary]) which quite ably supports the sense of the speech,
whereas "pitch" may lead modern ears down the wrong path (the tossing of a
boat? a thrown ball? black tar?).  I'm not suggesting that Shakespearean text
should be "modernized" (although Olivier did little enough damage with his
emendations of Hamlet for film), but in the theatre a director has a
responsibility to the audience to make meanings clear.  When two equally
supportable choices arise, most directors will grab the one that makes meaning
or action the clearer.

    Because this is a study guide rather than an actor's edition, I've
retained the Folio reading.  As a director, I'd have the actor use the
Quartos' "pitch."

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<TURN AWAY>

    The later Quartos have "turn awry," the Folios "turn away."  Are the
currents of action simply deflected ("awry"), or do they change their course
entirely ("away")?

    The Folio text, suggesting a stronger action, may be more appropriate for
the climax of Hamlet's reasoning.

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<PROVENANCE>

    The text here has been retranscribed by Steven Brant from a facsimile
edition of the First Folio.  The original copy, in excellent condition, is
owned by Yale's Elizabethan Club Library.

    Mr. Brant takes full responsibility for any points of spelling or
punctuation with which the reader wishes to disagree ── and for the
interpretive choices in the notes accompanying the text.

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