end Hamlet and a couple of guards and the manager of the troupe did it themselves.
By the time the chairs were arranged and two curtains hung, it was ten o’clock.
Outside, the wind had become blustery, with gusts of real wildness. The Danish flag was nearly ripped from its pole on the western tenement, and tiles were blown from the castle roof. There were some who did not bother to return to the dining hall but stayed in their rooms with a bottle of wine, or a pack of cards, or a few friends for a gossip. Afterward, when they heard, they regretted their inertia.
The actors were brought in from the anteroom, which had been assigned them for dressing. Hamlet had been furious as he moved tables and chairs, but now anxiety was his dominant emotion again. The actors became aware of his tension when he started to coach them in their craft. Much as they liked him and appreciated his patronage, they were not necessarily keen to have him tell them how to do their jobs. But he was a prince and they were commoners; indeed, in many places they were treated as little better than beggars or riffraff. Hamlet was almost alone among the nobility of Denmark in his respect for them.
“Do the speech as I taught it to you,” he urged them. “For that matter, do all the speeches with expression. If you just rattle off your lines like you’re reciting a list of groceries, as I’ve seen some actors do, I might as well fetch the cooks from the kitchen to read them. And don’t be extravagant. The more passionate the scene, the more subtle should be your gestures. The contrast between the whirlwind of passion and the moderation of gesture is what gives a scene its smoothness. How I hate to hear some fellow on a stage ranting and raving! Let the words do the work. You need not bellow like a cow giving birth, or stride up and down in a frenzy. I would have an actor like that whipped for trying to out-Thor the god of thunder himsel-”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” one of the actors said.
Hamlet hesitated at the man’s tone. “I was only joking about the whipping.”
“Yes, Highness.”
Hamlet shook his head. “Suit the action to the words and the words to the action. Your task is to hold up a mirror to nature. If you give a scene more tragedy than nature has given it, or more sentimentality, or more drama, you have ruined it. I have seen actors, even famous ones, who in imitating men or women do such a poor job that I started to wonder whether they were in fact human, or perhaps some lower form of life created not by nature but by one of nature’s incompetent assistants.”
“I hope we do a little better than that, Highness,” said the leader of the troupe.
“Do a lot better! A whole lot better! And, by the way, whoever plays the clown, make sure not to laugh at your own jokes! There are always a few fools in the audience who find that amusing, but when such an actor steals the scene, important lines are lost. It shows pitiful ambition on his part. Anyway, enough. Go behind the curtains; make yourselves ready.”
They trickled away. As they went out to the right, Horatio came in from the left. Hamlet was warmed to see him. “Horatio, dear Horatio, the most just man I ever met.”
“Hamlet, no,” Horatio protested.
“Oh, I’m not flattering you. What would be the point? You don’t have any wealth, except your good spirits, to feed and clothe you. But I tell you this, Horatio: since I was old enough to judge between the people of my acquaintance, you are the one to whom I’ve always turned. I respect the way you’ve handled the good things that come to you as much as the way you’ve dealt with adversity. Blessed are those who have good judgment! Blessed are those who do not allow fortune to play them like they are a trumpet, letting her decide what notes she will sound! Give me the man who is not a slave to passion, and he will be the blood of my heart, as you are mine, Horatio.”
Horatio blushed with pleasure. His
By the time the chairs were arranged and two curtains hung, it was ten o’clock.
Outside, the wind had become blustery, with gusts of real wildness. The Danish flag was nearly ripped from its pole on the western tenement, and tiles were blown from the castle roof. There were some who did not bother to return to the dining hall but stayed in their rooms with a bottle of wine, or a pack of cards, or a few friends for a gossip. Afterward, when they heard, they regretted their inertia.
The actors were brought in from the anteroom, which had been assigned them for dressing. Hamlet had been furious as he moved tables and chairs, but now anxiety was his dominant emotion again. The actors became aware of his tension when he started to coach them in their craft. Much as they liked him and appreciated his patronage, they were not necessarily keen to have him tell them how to do their jobs. But he was a prince and they were commoners; indeed, in many places they were treated as little better than beggars or riffraff. Hamlet was almost alone among the nobility of Denmark in his respect for them.
“Do the speech as I taught it to you,” he urged them. “For that matter, do all the speeches with expression. If you just rattle off your lines like you’re reciting a list of groceries, as I’ve seen some actors do, I might as well fetch the cooks from the kitchen to read them. And don’t be extravagant. The more passionate the scene, the more subtle should be your gestures. The contrast between the whirlwind of passion and the moderation of gesture is what gives a scene its smoothness. How I hate to hear some fellow on a stage ranting and raving! Let the words do the work. You need not bellow like a cow giving birth, or stride up and down in a frenzy. I would have an actor like that whipped for trying to out-Thor the god of thunder himsel-”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” one of the actors said.
Hamlet hesitated at the man’s tone. “I was only joking about the whipping.”
“Yes, Highness.”
Hamlet shook his head. “Suit the action to the words and the words to the action. Your task is to hold up a mirror to nature. If you give a scene more tragedy than nature has given it, or more sentimentality, or more drama, you have ruined it. I have seen actors, even famous ones, who in imitating men or women do such a poor job that I started to wonder whether they were in fact human, or perhaps some lower form of life created not by nature but by one of nature’s incompetent assistants.”
“I hope we do a little better than that, Highness,” said the leader of the troupe.
“Do a lot better! A whole lot better! And, by the way, whoever plays the clown, make sure not to laugh at your own jokes! There are always a few fools in the audience who find that amusing, but when such an actor steals the scene, important lines are lost. It shows pitiful ambition on his part. Anyway, enough. Go behind the curtains; make yourselves ready.”
They trickled away. As they went out to the right, Horatio came in from the left. Hamlet was warmed to see him. “Horatio, dear Horatio, the most just man I ever met.”
“Hamlet, no,” Horatio protested.
“Oh, I’m not flattering you. What would be the point? You don’t have any wealth, except your good spirits, to feed and clothe you. But I tell you this, Horatio: since I was old enough to judge between the people of my acquaintance, you are the one to whom I’ve always turned. I respect the way you’ve handled the good things that come to you as much as the way you’ve dealt with adversity. Blessed are those who have good judgment! Blessed are those who do not allow fortune to play them like they are a trumpet, letting her decide what notes she will sound! Give me the man who is not a slave to passion, and he will be the blood of my heart, as you are mine, Horatio.”
Horatio blushed with pleasure. His
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