much cause to suspect her of eavesdropping, as she had of suspecting the King and her father when they left it. As a conclusive proof that Ophelia knew nothing of her father’s concealment, and what is more, that her father knew she did not, his first words when he rejoins her, are “How now, Ophelia? You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said [which proves that Ophelia, in the innocence of her heart, was beginning to report the interview as something unknown to her father]. We heard it all.”
Is there any one who can lay his hand upon his honest heart and now assert his belief that, when, in answer to Hamlet’s question, “Where’s your father?” Ophelia said, “At home, my lord,” the frightened child told a lie. If it be objected that I have no right arbitrarily to mark certain speeches as Aside, I can urge in reply that the text of the Folio gives us absolute freedom in the matter of Asides. Throughout that volume I know of only one passage that is so indicated,—it is in Richard the Third, I, iii, 319, where there is a stage-direction: “Speakes to himselfe,” followed by the words: “For had I curst now, I had cursed myself.” Other than this instance, I know of none, and I have examined every column in the Folio, and think that none has escaped me. In Henry the Eighth, in 1st Henry the Sixth, in Richard the Third, and in Anthony and Cleopatra, there occur the stage-directions “Whispers,” or “Whispers in his eare,” but what is whispered is not given. The Asides in our modern text have been inserted by editors, chiefly by Rowe and by Pope, and shall I be debarred the privilege? Am I to allow the opprobrium of a falsehood to rest on a young girl’s head, just for the lack of a beggarly Aside? Perish the thought!
The mention of Dr. Johnson reminds me of the Preface to his edition of Shakespeare, published in 1765. Never, since Dryden, has Shakespeare’s pre-eminence been more vigorously proclaimed. To be sure, Pope has said of Shakespeare’s “power over our passions,” that the “heart swells and tears burst out just at the proper places,” a very notable confession, considering the source. But listen to Dr. Johnson: “Shakespeare’s drama is the mirrour of life,” and therein may be found “scenes from which a hermit may estimate the transactions of the world, and a confessor predict the progress of the passions. . . . Shakespeare has no heroes; his scenes are occupied only by men, who act and speak as the reader
