Player的老演员?’s Club告诉我，埃德温·布斯(Edwin Booth)第一次扮演哈姆雷特是在加州当酒吧老板的时候。剧院很少，但旅馆里有简陋的集会室，供散步的演员使用。年轻人在昏暗的旅馆里玩耍。房梁上闪烁着奇怪的光辉。哀鸣的风，埃尔西诺哀号着机遇、命运和变化;旧欧洲的声音?他的死惊动了新建的牛棚，惊动了街道，惊动了高大庄严的牧场。当土狼在远处吠叫时，城垛一片漆黑。农场里的孩子们挤成一团，脸色都变白了。 Forgot were pranks well-planned to sting. Behold there rose a ghostly king, And veils of smoking Hell were rent. When Edwin Booth played Hamlet, then The camp-drab?s tears could not but flow. Then Romance lived and breathed and burned. She felt the frail queen-mother?s woe, Thrilled for Ophelia, fond and blind, And Hamlet, cruel, yet so kind, And moaned, his proud words hurt her so. A haunted place, though new and harsh! The Indian and the Chinaman And Mexican were fain to learn What had subdued the Saxon clan. Why did they mumble, brood, and stare When the court-players curtsied fair And the Gonzago scene began? And ah, the duel scene at last! They cheered their prince with stamping feet. A death-fight in a palace! Yea, With velvet hangings incomplete, A pasteboard throne, a pasteboard crown, And yet a monarch tumbled down, A brave lad fought in splendor meet. Was it a palace or a barn? Immortal as the gods he flamed. There in his last great hour of rage His foil avenged a mother shamed. In duty stern, in purpose deep He drove that king to his black sleep And died, all godlike and untamed. . . . . . I was not born in that far day. I hear the tale from heads grown white. And then I walk that earlier street, The mining camp at candle-light. I meet him wrapped in musings fine Upon some whispering silvery line He yet resolves to speak aright.