Chapter XIX: Prologue (3)

Three children sliding on the ice,
All on a summer’s day;
The ice it broke――they all fell in――
The rest they ran away.

Now had these children staid at home,
And slid upon dry ground;
They broken necks had had, perchance,
But never had been drown’d.

However the whole burlesque is so good that it will be republished complete in this collection; for the present it will be sufficient to quote the parody of the Soliloquy, which is in rhyme:――

_Song_, HAMLET.――Tune, “_Here we go up, up, up_.”

When a man becomes tired of his life,
The question is, “to be, or not to be?”
For before he dare finish the strife,
His reflections most serious ought to be.
When his troubles too numerous grow,
And he knows of no method to mend them,
Had he best bear them tamely, or no?――
Or by stoutly opposing them end them?
Ri-tol-de-rol, etc.

To die is to sleep――nothing more――
And by sleeping to say we end sorrow,
And pain, and ten thousand things more――
O, I wish it were _my_ turn to-morrow!
But, perchance, in that sleep we may dream,
For we dream in our beds very often――
Now, however capricious ’t may seem,
I’ve no notion of dreams in a coffin.
Ri-tol-de-rol, etc.

’Tis the doubt of our ending all snugly,
That makes us with life thus dispute,
For who’d bear with a wife old and ugly,
Or the length of a chancery suit?
Or who would bear fardels, and take
Kicks, cuffs, frowns, and many an odd thing,
When he might his own quietus make,
And end all his cares with a bodkin?
Ri-tol-de-rol, etc.

Truly, death is a fine thing to talk of,
But I’ll leave to men of more learning;
For my own part, I’ve no wish to walk off,
For I find there’s no chance of returning.――
After all ’tis the pleasantest way,
To bear up as we can ’gainst our sorrow,
And if things go not easy to-day,
Let us hope they’ll go better to-morrow.――
Ri-tol-de-rol, etc.

――――:o:――――

O. P. Q. PHILANDER SMIFF, of _The Figaro_, (London,) once suggested that the play of _Hamlet_ might be made use of as an advertising medium, with a few minor alterations, as, to take the Soliloquy for example:――

“To sleep, or not to sleep――that is the question,
Whether ’tis well to suffer indigestion;
Or bear the burden of a dozen ills,
Whilst Mr. Cockle offers me his pills.
To have a headache, and a tongue that shocks,
Whilst they are sold at thirteen-pence a box.”

or, on another evening we might have:――

“To be in debt or not, that is the question,
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to go to Mr. Howse, in Staples Inn,
And thus take arms against a sea of trouble.”

――――:o:――――

ON BLOWING YOUR BRAINS OUT.

I would put the question to any sensible man, whether he does or does not consider it nobler in the mind to suffer many inconveniences, to which slings and arrows are mere flea-bites by comparison――and especially I might indicate blighted affections, the procrastination of your family solicitor when there is property to be distributed, in which you have a share, losses on the Derby, tightness of the money-market, the impertinence of the fellow who keeps on calling for the Queen’s taxes, and, generally, the spurns that patient merit is obliged to put up with from all kinds of cads and humbugs, and stuck-up little beasts, who give themselves no end of airs, and try to ride rough-shod over everybody who has not had the same luck that they have――than to terminate one’s existence by an act of _felo-de-se_? Well, you know, the fact is that nobody would be fool enough to go on day after day standing this sort of thing, if it wasn’t for a deuced strong objection to becoming a body, and being sat upon by a dozen tradesmen, some of whom perhaps have been confoundedly rude to one in one’s life, when one has not happened to be able to pay one’s bills the moment one has been called upon in a sudden and peremptory, not to say insolent, manner to do so. There’s the rub! On consideration, most people will rather bear the ills they have than do anything desperate to get rid of them. (I have but this moment met with a passage in a shocking tragedy, by the well-known Shakespeare, that bears a decided family likeness to my philosophic proposition. It will scarcely be expected that I should expunge the foregoing observations, because of their likeness to what was written at a distant period of English literature.)――_Punch._

――――:o:――――

The libretto to Ambroise Thomas’s opera of _Hamlet_ was by M.M. Barbier and Carré, and their rendering of the Soliloquy shows the difficulty of translating Shakespeare’s blank verse, and metaphysical reasoning, into the orthodox French rhymed measure:――

Être ou ne pas être――O mystère!
Mourir――dormir――rêver.
Ah! s’il m’était permis pour t’aller retrouver,
De briser le lien qui m’attache à la terre!
Mais après? Quel est-il ce pays inconnu,
D’où pas un voyageur n’est encore revenu?

Être ou ne pas être――O mystère!
Mourir-dormir! rêver peut-être!

――――:o:――――

SHAKESPEARE AMENDED.

_Punch_ for 30 April, 1881, contained the following――

“Mr. Furnivall is of opinion that the text of _Hamlet_ known to
commentators as ‘The First Quarto,’ furnishes a far better and
more compact acting play than the modern stage-version. He, and
‘a strong body of amateurs,’ essayed, on the afternoon of
Saturday, the 16th April, at St. George’s Hall, to convert the
public and the critics to their view of the case――apparently with
indifferent success. Mr. FURNIVALL has sent to the _Daily News_,
what he calls ‘a hasty try to set right’ the celebrated
soliloquy, ‘To be or not to be,’ in the Quarto No. 1. Mr.
FURNIVALL’S version is, of course, a thing of beauty; yet is it
hardly so jerky, creaky, spasmodic, incoherent,
scansion-proof,――in short, so Utter, as in the interests of the
Bard might be desired. Here, therefore, is ‘a hasty try to set
right’ Mr. FURNIVALL himself.”

To be or not to be? There you are, don’tcherknow!
To die, to sleep! is that all? Forty winks?
To sleep, to dream! Ah, that’s about the size of it!
For from that forty winks when we awake
In the undiscovered cotton-nightcap country
From which no passenger ever took a return-ticket――――
Why――ah, yes――humph!――exactly――very much so!
Who, but for what the vulgar call “blue funk,”
Would bear the rough and tumble of the world,
Be down’d on by the rich, plagued by the poor,
Married by widows, and by orphans worried?
Who’d bear
April’s east wind or June’s perpetual rain,
The Income-tax, Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL’S questions,
Middlesex Magistrates, Mud-Salad Market,
Crass commentaries on Shakespearian quartos.
And all earth’s ills, from FURNIVALL to toothache,
When that himself he might his gruel give
In half a jiffy? _Who_’d put up with it,
But for the thought of worse things turning up
In the Micawber Limbo――By-and-by?
Quite so! ’Tis bother, doubt, hope, fear, cant, gush.
The fads of noodles and of nincompoops,
Fogging the brain and flooring common sense,
Which make us grin and bear the ills we have
Rather than, _à la_ FURNIVALL, to make
“A hasty try to set ’em right.” Ah, yes,
’Tis noodledom makes cowards of us all!!!

Mr. F. J. Furnivall’s fussy and hasty “tries to set everybody right” about all that relates to Shakespeare are well-known, as is also his objection to any contradiction of his favorite theories.

The “New Shakspere Society” was apparently founded by Mr. F. J. Furnivall for two purposes, firstly, for the glorification of Mr. Furnivall, and secondly, to instruct the British public to spell the name of Shakespeare in a different manner to that commonly adopted, and which was generally used by his contemporaries. If the Society has partially succeeded in its first object, it has totally failed in the second; when the press does condescend to notice its proceedings it is almost invariably styled the New _Shakespeare_ Society, notwithstanding the anger, and the constant protests of Mr. F. J. Furnivall. A pretty controversy was raised on the question of _Shakespeare_ or _Shakspere_ between J. O. Halliwell-Phillipps――who is an authority, and Mr. Furnivall, who is――simply Mr. Furnivall. The latter gentleman’s arguments, expressed in peculiar diction, and still more peculiar orthography, consisted principally of personalities, and Mr. A. C. Swinburne (who happened to disagree with him) was styled a _minor_ poet, and his name translated into pigs-brook (from swine――a pig, and burne――a brook) by the courteous founder of the “New Shakspere Society.”[34]

A very humorous account of the origin of this Society was given in a little pamphlet entitled _Furnivallos Furioso!_ and “The Newest _Shakespeare_ Society;” a Dram-Attic Squib of the Period. (T. Richards, 37, Great Queen Street, London, 1876). The _Dramatis Personæ_ are thus described:――

FURNIVALLOS, surnamed FURIOSO, a great Critic, and Founder
of the “Newest Shakespeare Society.”

TUPPERIUS, his Friend and A-bettor, Poet-Critic, and
“Proverbial” Philosopher (in his own estimation).

DIXONUS, Reviewer and Author in general. A great admirer of
Himself, “with scarce time to steal from Spiritual.”

CARLYLUS, an aged Philosopher of the Anglo-Saxon-and-Water
School.

General Members and Ass-ociates of the Society.

The first scene opens thus――

_A Library._――FURNIVALLOS, (in his shirt sleeves) sitting at
a table.

_Furnivallos._ A year or two ago, and I
Had hardly read a line of Shakespeare’s works――
Or so-call’d works. For why?
Have I not found them, in such transient time,
A nest of fledgings, and of mixèd rhyme
Without much reason――Heav’n save the mark!――
Cribb’d from Boccaccio’s self, or Chaucer’s pages dark?
In later days, the hands,
Or rather quills, of Jonson, Beaumont too,
Have serv’d to make a hash of what this
William Shakespeare drew!
And I alone of all the wits can show it;
For am I not the Critic of our Poet?
A thought occurs――it is not always so
Since my poor brains are like my means, too low;
And when I want them sharp, alas! they’re slow!
I’ll found a fresh Society, call’d “New,”
And try if I can’t, by much reading hard,
Impart “new readings” to th’ “Immortal Bard,”
Shifting the false lights from the dazzling true――
Though I for one, find _them_ but very few!――
And thus prove Shakespeare’s after all a myth,
And muff!――akin to Jones, or Brown, or Smith.”

_Furnivallos_ having with the aid of _Tupperius_ founded the Society, a meeting is held, at which _Furnivallos_ takes the chair, and makes a speech, in which he asserts――

“Nothing that Shakespeare wrote, came from his head,
Which was a Warehouse stored with stolen goods,――
And thus he warbled of the hills and woods
In Cuckoo notes.

* * * * *

So now to work, and bring before your Eyes,
The fact that Shakespeare’s Plays are only Lies!”

_Dixonus (jumping up indignantly, thus speaks)_――

This “bosh” your Chairman talks of Shakespeare’s Plays is
But hideous Nonsense, and my Anger raises;
For though to some extent he may be right,
His Tests are wrong, and here I take a sight
At his Foot-rule, his Measures, Pauses, Endings.
Since Shakespeare, in despite such Tinker’s mendings,
Must e’er remain――whatever Dolts may say――
“The Wonder of all Time.” And now, good-day
Furnivallos, and your slavish, fawning Crew,
With whom again I’ll nothing have to do;
Though, ere I go, or quit this “New Society,”
Let me advise all, and with strict sobriety,
To change its Name, and so coin heaps of guineas,
And call it Shakespeare’s “Newest Nest of Ninnies!”

(_Great confusion as DIXONUS quits the room._)

TABLEAU.

――――:o:――――

When Mr. Wilson Barrett announced that he was about to produce “Hamlet” at the Princess’s Theatre, someone wrote the following, not very profound, criticisms upon the tragedy:――

HAMLET FROM A NEW POINT OF VIEW.

“Seeing an announcement to the effect that ‘Hamlet’ is in
preparation at the Princess’s Theatre, set me thinking a bit
about the matter; and I give in a free and unstudied manner
the fruits of my thoughts. First, I wondered if one out of
ten who’d read the bills would know anything really about
either the play or the poet? Of the difference between the
Hamlet of the first edition, of 1623, and that, say of
Knight’s, of 1843.

Open the two at random, and Ophelia says in the first, in
Actus Secundus, Scena Secunda:――

‘O, what a noble minde is here o’re-throwne?
The Courtiers, Soldiers, Schollers, Eye, tongue, sword.’

In Knight’s the like words occur, only slightly altered in
spelling; and in the ordinary acting edition the lines
run:――

O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown!
The expectancy and rose of the fair state.’

Let us look at this Prince, almost a fairy one, thirty years
of age, too good for the earth, not good enough for Heaven.
You know what he says: ‘What should such fellows as I do
crawling between earth and heaven?’

Well, instead of being thin as in the picture, and fancy he
is; by his mother’s, the queen’s, words, ‘He’s fat, and
scant of breath. Heere’s a napkin, rub thy browes, the Queen
carowses to thy fortune, Hamlet.’ Of course it’s very well
to wriggle and say oh, that, like the ‘beard,’ was put in to
suit Burbage. Even letting this be the case, Shakespeare
studied an actor more than the reputation of his first work.
Then he is so poetical and wanting in action, so unable to
grapple with the wicked things of this world.

Oh! is he. When the king ships him to Britain, he puts the
names of his false friends where his own stood, so that the
British king has them beheaded and not Hamlet.

Now for the Queen, and Laertes, and the King. Of a sudden,
like acted upon by a magician’s wand, they turn bad all at
once. It even worries and bothers Hamlet. He can’t
understand why his mother should have taken so queer a fancy
as to prefer his uncle to his far handsomer father. And
Laertes who gives such nice advice to his sister, and for
his cad-like conduct receives a very proper rebuke from her,
turns from a seemingly-virtuous young gentleman to a mean
and despicable assassin. And Ophelia, that beauteous and
correct damsel, is easily made to act as a spy upon her
lover. And this without one word of caution to him, or the
least expression of regret for such, at the mildest,
unlady-like, unwoman-like, and altogether unchristian-like
conduct.

Other minor faults and absurdities occur, as Hamlet’s remark
after he had seen his father’s spirit:――

‘The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller
returns.’

This Hamlet may in some shadowy way or other forecast our
life here and what the majority of us do in it――nothing.
Leave all to the crack of doom and then down we go all
together. Our talking as angels, some of us, and acting
like fools, most of us, may be all here parabled out.”

As Mr. Wilson Barrett’s revival of _Hamlet_ was a success, it was quite in the order of things that it should be burlesqued, and that he and the members of his company should be caricatured.

“Very Little Hamlet,” by W. Yardley, was produced at the Gaiety Theatre, London, in November, 1884, and Mr. Wilson Barrett’s absurd speech about his early ambition to play _Hamlet_ was made the leading idea in the prologue, the scene representing the exterior of the Princess’s twenty-five years ago, with costumes, &c., archæologically correct. The future proprietor appears as a ragged street boy, and takes his solemn oath, to mysterious music, that he will, one day, play _Hamlet_ in that theatre, while his companions of the gutter, being called upon to swear, exclaim in a hoarse whisper, “D――――n!” and a ghostly actor undertakes to see the scheme carried out. Miss Nelly Farren appeared as the hero, and Miss Phyllis Broughton as Ophelia, with a tow-like wig. The treatment of the play scene was novel and amusing. It was announced that the principal player was ill and could not perform, whereupon King Claudius kindly volunteered to go on and read the part, which he did, until he discovered the meaning of the show.

――――:o:――――

Quotations have already been made from _The Hamlet Travestie_, in three acts, by John Poole (London, Samuel French); _Hamlet Travestie_, by Mr. F. Talfourd (Oxford, J. Vincent, 1849); and from _Hamlet; or not such a Fool as he looks_ (Cambridge, W. Metcalfe and Son, 1882); in addition to these there are many parodies of detached passages from _Hamlet_.

The following is founded upon the advice given by Polonius to his son, Laertes:――

A PARENT’S COUNSEL.

You are about to go away my son,
So take away with you the wise advice of one
Who knows the world, boy, and don’t think much of it,
“Neither a borrower, nor a lender be,”
Of course from _choice_, the former certainlee.
If in a scrape and in the wrong, declare it,
Never attempt to justify it; square it.
Learn to say “No” to most things――seldom “yes.”
If you should see a female in distress,
Remember the advice of your sage sire,
Call the police and gracefully retire.
As the apparel oft proclaims the man,
Why, do as many tailors as you can.
In short, if you attend to all I tell,
You’ll find that you will get on very well.
HENRY J. BYRON.

――――:o:――――

In the Burlesque of Norma by W. S. Gilbert, entitled _The Pretty Druidess_, which was produced at the Charing Cross Theatre on the 19th June, 1869, Norma announces her intention to have a Fancy Fair with a view of raising the funds necessary to fight the Romans, and drive them out of the country. This scene contains a parody of Hamlet’s instructions to the players:――

_Norma._――Now this sound code of business we’ll arrange,
We’ll only take bank notes, and give no change,
And won’t sell anything to any buyer
That any one could possibly require.
Now, priestesses, be good enough to tell
The articles that you’ve prepared to sell.

_Adalgisa_.――(_producing cap_) a smoking cap――

_Norma._――Ah, there, at least, he’s thwarted,
For (hush) tobacco isn’t yet imported!

_Adalgisa._――Some scented soap.

_Norma._――They’re certain to refuse it――
Italians, generally, do not use it!

_Adalgisa._――A razor-case, completely stocked.

_Norma._――That’s brave!
For warriors are not allowed to shave!

_Adalgisa._――Braces, embroidered with initial letter.

_Norma._――Embroidered braces? Nothing could be better!
No Roman wears, in all the martial train,
The garments they’re intended to sustain!

_Adalgisa._――How shall we bear ourselves to-morrow, pray?

_Norma._――Attention, and I’ll point you out the way.
With pretty speech accost both old and young,
And speak it trippingly upon the tongue.
But if you mouth it with a hoyden laugh,
With clumsy ogling, and uncomely chaff,
As I have oft seen done at fancy fairs,
I had as lief a huckster sold my wares.
Avoid all so-called “beautifying,” dear.
Oh, it offends me to the soul to hear,
The things that men among themselves will say
Of some _soi-disant_ beauty of the day,
Whose face, when with cosmetics she has cloyed it,
Out-Rachel’s Rachel! Pray you, girls, avoid it!
Neither be ye too tame, but, ere you go,
Provide yourselves with sprigs of mistletoe,
Offer them coyly to the Roman herd,
But don’t you “suit the action to the word,”
For in the very torrent of your passion,
Remember modesty is still in fashion.
Oh, there be ladies whom I’ve seen hold stalls――
Ladies of rank, my dears, to whom befalls
Neither the accent nor the gait of ladies;
So clumsily “made up” with Bloom of Cadiz,
Powder, rouge, lip-salve――that I’ve fancied then
They were the work of Nature’s journeymen!
Let her, whose hair is black with lustre mellow,
Not dream of using dye to turn it yellow――
She’ll find it argues (when at length she loses it)
A sad ambition in the fool that uses it!
Now get you ready.
_Exit Norma._

――――:o:――――

_Hamlet’s_ meditation on the new station of the Midland Railway at St. Pancras:――

See what an incubus sits on our city?
Pentonville’s gloom, the front of a huge workhouse
A draught like ice to palsy and to pierce;
A station like a leaden Limbo-waste,
Dim-lighted as a fog-bound Ludgate Hill.
A combination and a form indeed,
Where every hideousness doth set its seal
To give the world assurance of――a Horror!
Such is our Terminus!

_Punch_, December 1882.

――――:o:――――

The enterprising proprietors of a celebrated brand of Cigarettes have recently advertised their wares, by a picture representing two smokers, under which appeared the lines:――

Look here upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two smokers;
See what a grace is seated on this brow;
Luxuriant smile, the type of joy itself!
An eye all beams, so pleasant and upturned,
Expressing pleasure at the dainty ‘Cig.’
New lighted; mark the heaven-kissing curl:
’Tis fascination to that precious weed;
Wherefore men doth feverishly break the seal
That gives the world assurance ’tis the GEM.
This is one smoker; look you now what follows:
Here is the other, like a sickly child
Taking its nauseous powder; hath he taste,
That he can suck at such a weed,
That scatters out its dust? Ha! has he eyes?
You cannot say he has; for he would sure
Seek out a better brand; the weed is humble,
And palls upon the palate; and what palate
Would take such stuff as his?
Oh, man! for modest cash ‘THE RICHMOND GEM.’
Is sweet and fragrant to the smoker’s mouth;
To youth its virtues are as plain――
To smoke is to admire.
(_Vide_ Hamlet, Act iii., Scene iv.)
_St. Stephens’ Saturnalia_, December 1884.

――――:o:――――

The following Scene is taken from the _Hamlet Travestie, a Burlesque in Two Acts_, written by Mr. Francis Talfourd, and published by J. Vincent, Oxford, in 1849:――