Читать книгу Journal of a Residence in America - Fanny Kemble - Страница 35

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Rose at eight. After breakfast, heard my father say Hamlet. How beautiful his whole conception of that part is! and yet it is but an actor's conception too.

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I am surprised at any body's ever questioning the real madness of Hamlet: I know but one passage in the play which tells against it, and there are a thousand that go to prove it. But leaving all isolated parts out of the question, the entire colour of the character is the proper ground from which to draw the right deduction. Gloomy, desponding, ambitious, and disappointed in his ambition, full of sorrow for a dead father, of shame for a living mother, of indignation for his ill-filled inheritance, of impatience at his own dependent position; of a thoughtful, doubtful, questioning spirit, looking with timid boldness from the riddles of earth and life, to those of death and the mysterious land beyond it; weary of existence upon its very threshold, and withheld alone from self-destruction by religious awe, and that pervading uncertainty of mind which stands on the brink, brooding over the unseen may-be of another world; in love, moreover, and sad and dreamy in his affection, as in every other sentiment; for there is not enough of absolute passion in his love to make it a powerful and engrossing interest; had it been such, the entireness and truth of Hamlet's character would have been destroyed. 'Tis love indeed, but a pulseless powerless love; gentle, refined, and tender, but without ardour or energy; such are the various elements of Hamlet's character, at the very beginning of the play: then see what follows. A frightful and unnatural visitation from the dead; a horrible and sudden revelation of the murder of the father for whom his soul is in mourning; thence burning hatred and thirst of vengeance against his uncle; double loathing of his mother's frailty; above all, that heaviest burden that a human creature can have put upon him, an imperative duty calling for fulfilment, and a want of resolution and activity to meet the demand; thence an unceasing struggle between the sluggish nature and the upbraiding soul; an eternal self-spurring and self-accusing: from which mental conflict, alone sufficient to unseat a stronger mind, he finds relief in fits of desponding musing, the exhaustion of overwrought powers. Then comes the vigilant and circumspect guard he is forced to keep upon every word, look, and action, lest they reveal his terrible secret; the suspicion and mistrust of all that surround him, authorised by his knowledge of his uncle's nature: his constant watchfulness over the spies that are set to watch him; then come, in the course of events, Polonius's death, the unintentional work of his own sword, the second apparition of his father's ghost, his banishment to England, still haunted by his treacherous friends, the miserable death of poor Ophelia, together with the unexpected manner of his first hearing of it—if all these—the man's own nature, sad and desponding—his educated nature (at a German university), reasoning and metaphysical—and the nature he acquires from the tutelage of events, bitter, dark, amazed, and uncertain; if these do not make up as complete a madman as ever walked between heaven and earth, I know not what does.[11] Wrote journal, and began to practise; while doing so—— called; he said that he was accompanied by some friends who wished to see me, and were at the door. I've heard of men's shutting the door in the face of a dun, and going out the back way to escape a bailiff—but how to get rid of such an attack as this I knew not, and was therefore fain to beg the gentlemen would walk in, and accordingly in they walked, four as fine-grown men as you would wish to see on a summer's day. I was introduced to this regiment man by man, and thought, as my Sheffield friend would say, "If them be American manners, defend me from them." They are traders, to be sure; but I never heard of such wholesale introduction in my life. They sat a little while, behaved very like Christians, and then departed. Captain—— and—— called—the former to ask us to come down and see the Pacific, poor old lady! When they were gone, practised, read a canto in Dante, and translated verbatim a German fable, which kept me till dinner-time. After dinner, walked out towards the Battery. ——joined us. It was between sunset and moonrise, and a lovelier light never lay upon sea, earth, and sky. The horizon was bright orange colour, fading as it rose to pale amber, which died away again into the modest violet colour of twilight; this possessed the main sky wholly, except where two or three masses of soft dark purple clouds floated, from behind which the stars presently winked at us with their bright eyes. The river lay as still as death, though there was a delicious fresh air: tiny boats were stealing like shadows over the water; and every now and then against the orange edge of the sky moved the masts of some schooner, whose hull was hidden in the deep shadow thrown over it by the Jersey coast. A band was playing in the Castle garden, and not a creature but ourselves seemed abroad to see all this loveliness. Fashion makes the same fools all the world over; and Broadway, with its crowded dusty pavement, and in the full glare of day, is preferable, in the eyes of the New York promenaders, to this cool and beautiful walk. Came home at about nine. On the stairs met that odious Dr. ——, who came into the drawing-room without asking or being asked, sat himself down, and called me "Miss Fanny." I should like to have thrown my tea at him!—— sent up his name and presently followed it. I like to see any of our fellow-passengers, however little such society would have pleased me under any other circumstances; but necessity "makes us acquainted with strange bedfellows;" and these my ship-mates will, to the end of time, be my very good friends and boon companions. My father went to the Park theatre, to see a man of the name of Hacket give an American entertainment after Matthews's at-home fashion. I would not go, but staid at home looking at the moon, which was glorious.

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To-night, as I stood watching that surpassing sunset, I would have given it all—gold, and purple, and all—for a wreath of English fog stealing over the water.