Either from a national love of rhetoric, or a personal fancy of the chief actor for the centre of the stage, or from economical reasons, the version of "G.
Shakespeare's" meritorious tragedy which was placed before us was almost wholly monologue.

Thinking about it now, I can scarcely recall any action on the part of the few other characters, whereas Amleto's millions of rapid words still rain uncomprehended on my ears, and I still see his myriad grimaces and gestures.

It was like _Hamlet_ very unintelligently arranged for a very noisy cinema, and watching it I was conscious of what a vast improvement might be effected in many plays if the cinema producer as well as the author attended the rehearsals.

But to the Venetians this was as impressive and entertaining a Hamlet as could be wished, and four jolly Jack-tars from one of the men-of-war in the lagoon nearly fell out of their private box in their delight, and after each of the six atti Amleto was called several times through the little door in the curtain.

Nor did he fail to respond.
About the staging of the play there was a right Shakespearian parsimony.
If all the scenery and costumes cost twenty-five pounds, I am surprised.
No attempt was made to invest "lo spettro del padre del Amleto" with supernatural graces.