in courtly style pleads great love as an excuse for his unwelcome boldness. Hamlet, however, penetrates his hypocrisy and sees the falsehood. The flute which he holds he now presses upon the unwilling courtier and insists on his playing it, showing him how-how easy it is—and while gazing searchingly into his eyes, exclaims with ironical emphasis: ""Tis as easy as lying." The words startle the courtier and bring the blush of shame to his face; for even now he feels himself unmasked as a master in the art of lying.

After Guildenstern had repeatedly and earnestly pleaded his inability to play even upon so simple an instrument as the flute, Hamlet proceeds in great irritation to interpret the parable with remarkable and unmistakable words of ridicule. "How unworthy you think of me! Zounds, (the holy wounds of Christ), do you take me for a simpleton? Do you fancy me simpler than this tiny reed upon which you cannot play? Its secret power is a mystery to you, and yet you attempt to strike my note, to find my compass, and to run the gamut of my thoughts and feelings, even to the deepest note in the hope of reaching the heart of my secret. 'Sblood', by the Eucharist, do you think I am easier than this tiny reed? You may fret me, but you cannot play upon me. His passionate words, so terribly blunt and full of spirited resentment, overpower the courtier with confusion and reduce him abashed to painful silence.

The strained situation was opportunely relieved by the hurried entrance of the old chancellor. His unexpected appearance brought glad relief to the young spies; for it not only distracted Hamlet's attention from them, but also afforded time for his mood of ill feeling to die away. They had come at the command of the Queen; but the fussy old minister was a self-appointed messenger, and, shuffling along in haste he hurries in, blurting out stale news. After suffering annoyance from the plaguing spies, the Prince was about to dismiss

them summarily in the hope of gaining, since the play, some moments for reflection upon his future course of action; hence, the inopportune intrusion of the babbling old chamberlain was more than usually unwelcome, and in utter weariness of soul, he greets him with the deprecation "God bless you, sir!" Such expressions as "God bless us," and "God bless you," are habitual utterances of good Catholics, when surprised by some sudden and unexpected evil. His exclamation, prompted by his harassed feelings, clearly indicates his depression of spirits and vexation at the unwelcome intrusion of the old minister.

Polonius seems never to have merited the respect of the Prince, even during the life of the elder Hamlet. His active alliance against him after the murder, his support of the suc cession of Claudius, as well as his constant over-officiousness and low intrigue, made him especially odious to the Prince. Heedless of the old man's urgent message, Hamlet begins to mystify him with sportive raillery. The chamberlain in turn, desirous of humoring the Prince in his supposed malady, adopts the practice, common in dealing with madmen, of assenting to all they say; but Hamlet aware of his disposition, takes the offensive, and, leading him on from one absurd contradiction to another, induces him to affirm that yonder cloud bears the shape of a camel, a weasel, and a whale. Amid the merriment, the young courtiers are glad to forget their castigation. During their laughter at Polonius, Hamlet gives us another flash of his sanity by the side remark: "They fool me to the full extent of my disposition." He then dismisses the trio curtly with the message that he will see his mother by and by.

In the high glee which followed the success of his stratagem in regard to Claudius, Hamlet had yielded to an exalta

tion of mind, which prompted him to give full play to his long suppressed feelings; but when the pressure of the unnatural strain caused him to call for music to soothe his overwrought excitement, his purpose was thwarted, as we have seen, by the intrusion of the spies and Polonius; hence, no time was given him for reflection upon the condition of affairs, nor upon the next move he should make in his purpose of revenge. Throughout these interviews, he had with a rare mastery of self veiled under an external composure, the excitement of his mind and heart. But now, alone and free from all restraint, he pauses for some moments on his way to meet his mother, and in soliloquy discloses the bloody nature of his thoughts. ""Tis the witching time of night," when graves yawn forth their dead, and hell itself spreads contagion upon the world for the crimes done in the pall of darkness. Ruminating on the shameful disgrace of his mother and the heinous crime of his uncle, his burning thoughts so inflame his mind and sensibilities that in riotous fantasies and feelings, he could "drink hot blood," and do a deed so horrible that the world would quake to look upon it. The thought of his mother, whom he shall presently confront, and charge with shameful guilt, makes him realize the bloody purpose of his raging feelings. The soul of Nero seems, he thinks, to animate him, and he fears lest it shall lead him in the coming interview to a similar cruel and unnatural action. The accursed deed of the bloody tyrant forces on his mind a striking parallel: Nero was the murderer of his own mother, Agrippina, who after her husband's death, had married her uncle, the emperor Claudius. A Nero and a Claudius, foul names of cruelty and crime, so rouse his frame to an overpowering impulse of bloodthirstiness, that, actually afraid of losing mastery of himself, he with hands pressing upon his palpitating heart, invokes it in a passionate address, not to lose its nature. No, no! He must

not be a matricide! His feverish sense hears again the voice of his father's ghost:

"Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge
To prick and sting her."

Uncertain, whether his mother was privy to his father's murder, he is resolved to seek the truth or falsity of his sus picion. In dutiful obedience to his father's spirit, he will be cruel, but not unnatural. He will not use, but speak daggers to her soul. Though she be guilty, she is still his mother, and as a Christian son, he will speak burning words that shall fire her being, now torpid in incestuous crime, and inflame her heart with a virtuous sense of shame and horror, in order that, enkindling anew in her weak nature the Christian's love of good and abhorrence of evil, he may rouse in her sufficient strength of moral courage to break her sinful union with the horrid fratricide, and return to her former virtuous life.

SCENE THIRD

A ROYAL STRATAGEM

If Hamlet by means of the interlude gained his purpose of unmasking the guilt of the criminal, he thereby also revealed to Claudius the fact that he knew the secret of his crime; and this disclosure brought him further trouble. No sooner had the King "in his retirement," recovered from his "marvellous distemper," than he took immediate steps to guard himself against a man who, armed with such dangerous knowledge, roamed in the guise of lunacy with the freedom of the court. Suspicion and actual fear of the madman, now filled him with exaggerated alarm for his own personal safety. Always unscrupulous as to the means employed for the attainment of his purpose, he was, moreover by nature bold and decisive in action. At once his plan was formed. On the morrow, he will rid himself of this dangerous lunatic.

Unless we grant the court of Claudius to have been remarkable for mental dullness, we must suppose that all were of one mind with him in his fear of personal danger. Such an opinion requires no abstruse reasoning. Aware of the sudden and mysterious death of the elder Hamlet, and of his brother's hasty marriage with the widowed Queen, they witnessed the play of The Murder of Gonzago with its striking parallels, and the consequent strange confusion of the stricken Claudius, and observed Hamlet's tragic action and wild words of menace, all which were a gross insult to the King. Though joining in the general commotion and alarm which followed, they, as sycophantic courtiers, were wise enough to give their suspicious thoughts no words. Hence Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seemed not at all surprised to