thirst for revenge by exposing to him, how in furtherance of his cause, he had justly inflicted the death penalty upon the murderer of his father.

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SCENE SIXTH

A SUCCESSFUL COUNTERPLOT

By disclosing in a brief interlude the unexpected issue of Hamlet's cruise to England, the Poet's evident design is to keep his hero before our mind. Sailors enter hurriedly. One of them after greeting Horatio with the salutation, "God bless you sir," gives him a secret letter "from the ambassador that was bound for England." The prayer of the sailor, as well as that of Horatio, is one of the many little touches that indicate Shakespeare's fidelity to traits of character. In those ages of faith, it was the common practice not only in "Merry England," but also throughout Christendom, to greet a friend at meeting, with a "God bless you," and at parting, with a "God be with you." These little prayers were prompted by a living faith, and though still in use among devout Christians, have in our day given way to various inane expressions.

The letter contains a graphic narration of Hamlet's strange capture by pirates and his safe return to Denmark. Those critics who assign Hamlet's delay of "revenge" to a defect of character, blame him for tamely submitting to be sent away when he should by all means have remained in Denmark to further the one purpose of his life. Hence, they prefer, in harmony with their theory, to imagine Hamlet's predicted undermining of the King's plot to consist in the mere altering of the secret letters and, so ignore his prearranged capture by a pirate ship: the latter, if admitted, would militate against their pet theory of Hamlet's inactivity and abandonment of self to fate.

The incident of the pirate ship, though indeed a strange occurrence, is little noticed by critics of the subjec tive school. As the event has, however, a marked influence upon the dramatic action, it merits some attention. The facts, though few, are clear; a so-called pirate ship overtakes the royal vessel and grapples with it; Hamlet alone leaps aboard the strange vessel; and instantly it cuts loose, and at once returns him safely to Denmark. The event thus briefly described, looks in itself so unusual and suspicious that, if occurring in real life, it would undoubtedly impress on every one the idea of collusion, and this idea is strengthened, when all the circumstances are weighed, as well as the fact that the capture verified certain guarded remarks which Hamlet previously had made. Viewed in this light, the incident appears as a prearranged counterplot-a theory which with no argument against it, is supported by such an accumulation of circumstantial evidence, as to beget, if not certainty, at least the highest probability.

What then was this counterplot? Was it, as some assert, nothing more than the altering of the secret letters? Such an hypothesis appears untenable for several reasons. Knowing that the thrust which killed Polonius was intended for himself, Claudius on the one hand felt assured that henceforth his own life depended on Hamlet's death. Hence, rich as he was in resources, quick of action, and thoroughly unscrupulous, he resolved upon a cunningly devised plot to destroy him. On the other hand, aware of the King's secret hostility and treacherous nature, Hamlet, alert, watchful, and on guard against any covert act, was all but certain that the embassy with sealed letters to the English monarch, was a perfidious design by means of which Claudius hoped to accomplish abroad what he dared not attempt at home. His penetrating mind foresaw that, though even now under constant guard at

Elsinore, his position would be far more dangerous on board a ship when in the hands of officers, acting under secret instructions of the King; that, if he were unable to obtain possession of the secret letters, he would, on landing in England, be hopelessly in the power of Claudius; that even were he successful with the letters, the spies might have secret oral orders for the English monarch, who in the dilemma of contradictory commands, would, in all likelihood, hold him a prisoner while awaiting further instructions from Denmark: all these, Hamlet perceived were contingencies, any one or all of which might probably be verified; and, therefore, it is not rational to assume that, in his customary foresight and caution, he would blindly walk into the trap of Claudius, make forever his sworn revenge impossible, and jeopardize his life by such an uncertain and dubious counterplot, as the mere possible substitution of the secret letters. What, moreover, militates most against the hypothesis, is the second scene of the last Act, wherein Hamlet himself, treating in full of the purloining of the secret letter and its substitution, makes it clear that it was not his prearranged counterplot. He expressly declares it to have been only an after-thought, a makeshift, which was forced upon him by stress of unexpected circumstances, as shall be explained in the proper place.

What then was Hamlet's predicted counterplot? Clearly, it was one that engendered a manifest confidence of foiling the machinations of Claudius; one that would without delay restore him to Denmark, and to his pursuit of evidence against the criminal; one that prompted him, on hearing of the embassy from the King, to exclaim, "good," and again. "I see a cherub that sees them;" one that inspired him to confide to his mother the joy he felt at the certainty of success: "O, 'tis most sweet when in one line two crafts di

rectly meet." The counterplot, therefore, in which Hamlet rejoiced so much, because he felt absolutely certain of its success, should be one which, if executed, would verify his predictions; but his prearranged capture by a pretended pi rate ship alone seems to fulfill these conditions. In the text, he affirms that Claudius was marshalling him to knavery; but let him proceed, he says, in his treacherous work; his shall be the sport to delve beneath his mine, and hoist the engineer with his own petard; and in the vision of actual success, he rejoices at the meeting of the two 'crafts,' each on its own crafty mission bent.

Such a plot once decided upon, was with the aid of Horatio most easy of execution. Surely the Prince of Denmark could with ease charter secretly a warship, or cruiser; the navy of Denmark, as well as its merchant marine, dominated the high seas in those times; and, moreover, the warships of prince Fortinbras were then at anchor in the port of Elsinore. With the ship in commission, Hamlet could, before leaving port, readily give minute instructions to its officers, and make his promises of rich rewards dependent upon their faithful execution. Such a plot explains, not only his absolute confidence, which seems begotten of careful preparation, but also his surprising readiness and even glee at departing from the scene of his revenge, where interests dearer than life should naturally detain him.

The text, by means of Hamlet's letter, briefly yet clearly exposes the successful execution of the plot. The vessel which overtook him was evidently not a real, but a pretended pirate ship. If pirates are highwaymen who sail the high seas in quest of booty; if their trade is to pursue, and by force of arms to overpower merchant ships, and after plundering them, to destroy or sell them at open mart: