Page 99 - Hamlet: The Cambridge Dover Wilson Shakespeare
P. 99

xcli               H A M L E T

                theatrical tradition, was able to put much  of the play in a
                new light when he produced it at the Princess's Theatre.
                He  wore  long  flaxen  curls  and  a  small  two-pointed
                beard,  because Hamlet  was a Dane; and  he  dressed  his
                company in the style of the Viking era.  He was delicate,
                handsome,  graceful.  He  had  a  princely  nonchalance
                and  a  pleasant  way  with  his  inferiors,  and  he  could
                express emotion with sensibility.  But he showed no awe
                nor  depth  of feeling.  He thought that  'To  be or not to
                be'  was an  impediment  to the  action,  and  spoke it  fast
                and unimpressively, holding a drawn sword in his hand.
                He  was never  distraught, and  seldom more than  a little
                excited.  His  calm  and  self-possession  were  too  much
                even  for  Lewes,  who  was  prepared  to  see  in  him  the
                pot-bound rose of Goethe, Hamlet with a burden laid on
                him too heavy for  his  soul to bear;  but, lacking  power,
                and  too  matter-of-fact  and  shallow,  he  robbed  the  play
                of true  tragedy.  Fechter  doubtless  cleared  the  Way  for
                others  whom  the  tradition  might  have  hampered.  He
                appears to have retained the soliloquy during the King's
                prayer.  According to  one  account  his  Hamlet  did  not
                see the  King  and  Polonius  spying  on  his meeting  with
                Ophelia; according to another account he saw Polonius,
                but not the King. When he staged the play at the Lyceum
                in  1864, Kate Terry  was his excellent  Ophelia,  and  he
                knocked another nail into the coffin  of the old manner of
                shouting at her in  fury.
                   Ten  years later, at that same theatre, came a  hurried,
                shabby production  of the play which ran for  a hundred
                nights and  revealed a Hamlet who  owed  something, no
                doubt,  to  the  naturalism  of  Fechter  (the  new  Hamlet
                himself had worn, in his provincial youth, a flaxen wig),
                something  to  the  momentary  fires  of  Edmund  Kean,
                something to the  consistent artistic unity  of John  Philip
                Kemble, and  most of all to his own  mind  and  his  own
                personality.  Henry  Irving finally  killed  off  the  sepul-
                chral  Hamlet  and  restored  the  intensity  of  thought
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