ACT FOURTH

SCENE FIRST

INTERCHANGING MOVEMENTS

The accidental slaying of Polonius wrought many changes, and with them the Fourth Act is wholly concerned. Hamlet's premature and fatal stroke was an error which arose from his failure to hold tenaciously to the fixed course which reason and conscience had prescribed. Accident alone had fortunately saved him from ruining through blind fury the one sole purpose of his existence. His blunder impels him to resolve upon a more firm adhesion to his predetermined course, and to proceed with redoubled foresight and caution.

The first consequence of his error, is the necessity of consenting to be hurried away from Denmark, as a dangerous madman, even though he foresees that such enforced absence will halt his sworn purpose. Aware that Claudius, after penetrating his disguise and suspecting its probable purpose, will strain every nerve to rid himself of a dangerous avenger, he must now more than ever guard against his uncle's villainies. Though he be shut off from an opportunity of adopting some new method of disguise, he perceives it helpful for the present to continue in the role of a madman, even if it be somewhat worn and less serviceable. It will shield him in the public eye from responsibility for the slaying of Polonius and, moreover, offer the King a reasonable excuse for sending him abroad.

Certain critics who seem forgetful of Shakespeare's legerdemain in the apparent lengthening out of the drama, as

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already shown" assert that its action limps in the Fourth Act, and at the beginning of the Fifth. A little reflection, "G we think, will show that it is precisely here that new tragic and dramatic elements enter and hurry us on to the end. Hamlet's error is the turning point of the drama, and upon it hinge all subsequent events. The Prince, hitherto, on the offensive, and the King on the defensive, now change places. The error of the former has roused the latter to aggression, and at once Claudius enters upon a role most fatal to himself, while to the avenger the most propitious and decisive of results. Of the dual movement of the drama, the first comes to rest, when the assailant had well nigh paralyzed his cause; the second, which is of no less importance than the first, begins with the Fourth Act, wherein the king, who is next to Hamlet the most important character, dominates the action, and discloses himself in the genuine colors of a criminal. These two interchanging movements now constitute the action of the drama. Neither Hamlet nor Claudius understands and controls them.

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THE KING'S ALARM

In the meanwhile, Claudius had been pacing in anxiety his private apartment, impatiently awaiting the return of Polonius, who had promised to bring him without delay an unbiased report of the secret meeting between Hamlet and his mother. But instead of the minister, the Queen enters hastily in profound agitation. Her evident distress, marked by sighs and heaving bosom, almost deprives her of speech, as she stands before her expectant but astonished husband.

"Where is your son?" exclaims Claudius in alarm. "What is the cause of your strange and violent emotion?"

"Ah, my lord," gasps Gertrude, "you know not what a horrid thing I have seen to-night."

23 Chap. VI, p. 51.

"What?" demands Claudius amazed and suspicious. "Gertrude, tell me, how does Hamlet?"

True to her promise, she follows Hamlet's injunction to maintain belief in his madness, and with maternal ingenuity gives the King a distorted account of the killing of Polonius. Naturally suppressing the fact that Hamlet had intended the stroke for Claudius, she insists on his genuine madness: he is "mad as the sea and wind when both contend which is the mightier."

"O heavy deed!" replies the King, who is not deceived. Armed with fuller knowledge than the Queen supposes, he exclaims in deep concern: "It would have been so with us had we been there. Roaming at large in full liberty Hamlet is a constant menace to us all. Alas, how shall I answer this bloody deed? It will be charged to me, and justly so, since, foreseeing the danger, I should have kept this mad young man tethered in restraint. But my great love for him," continues Claudius in hypocrisy, "blinded me to what was proper. Where has he gone?"

"To carry off the corpse," replies the Queen. She does her best to allay her husband's great perturbation. She places her son's rash conduct in favorable light, and resorting to fietion, asserts that she left him weeping over his mad and luckless act.

"O, Gertrude, come away!" exclaims Claudius. "The sun of the morrow shall no sooner touch the mountain peaks than we shall ship him hence. With all our majesty and skill we must defend and excuse his murderous deed before the people. Ho, Guildenstern!"

In quick response both spies enter and listen to the king's command: "Go, get assistance and seek out Hamlet. In madness he has killed Polonius and dragged his corpse away. But mark you, treat him gently and address him kindly.

Haste away, I pray you, and bring the body to the chapel."

The spies departed. Claudius in mental disturbance expresses his fear of the populace. "Come away," he says to Gertrude. "Our wisest councelors must be instantly called together to learn of the untimely act and what we mean to do. We must assure them of the Prince's actual madness, and so explain his strange antics at the Play, as well as the killing of Polonius, and further how in tender love and solicitude we have arranged to send him abroad for change of scene and treatment. So, mayhap, forestalling public clamor and suspicion, we may keep our name untainted by poison-winged slander. O, Gertrude, come away!

"My soul is full of discord and dismay."

SCENE SECOND

THE KING'S SPONGES

At the command of Claudius, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hastened away to discover where Hamlet had concealed the corpse of Polonius. Hearing their loud calls, the Prince exclaims: "But soft, what noise? who calls on Hamlet?" On turning he perceives the young spies approaching, and, in deep resentment at their continuous dogging of his steps, utters the sarcastic words, "O, here they come.'

If on account of former friendship he had on previous occasions treated them with some deference and respect, his attitude towards them is now wholly changed. For a time the spies had attempted to conceal their official role, and, under the assumption of continued friendly relations, were careful to use kindly words and show obsequious deference. But after Hamlet had forced upon them his knowledge of their real purpose at Court, they were less exact in maintaining their disguise. Intruding their unwelcome presence more frequently upon him, they questioned him more directly, boldly, and brusquely than the Prince was accustomed to permit.

Hamlet on his part considered their shameful betrayal of his friendship for the royal favor a treacherous act, which cancelled every claim to his affection and respect. In consequence, he looked upon them as more or less open enemies whose presence was more than ever hateful, and whom he trusted as much as "adders fanged." Hence in the present instance he treats them with marked discourtesy, scorns their questions, and addresses them in expressly offensive terms.

When Rosencrantz enters hurriedly, and without cere