Hamlet - Act 3 Scene 3
A room in the castle.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are here presented as fully in league with Claudius, who is about to employ them in bringing about Hamlet's exile.
Enter CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN
CLAUDIUS
I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;
I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
And he to England shall along with you:
The terms of our estate may not endure
Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow
Out of his lunacies.
GUILDENSTERN
We will ourselves provide.
Most holy and religious fear it is
To keep those many many bodies safe
That live and feed upon your majesty.
Rosencrantz offers a fairly conventional description of the chaos following the death of a king. He clearly intends this as fawning flattery of Claudius, though Claudius himself-- and the audience-- will likely associate the comment with the death of Old Hamlet, the cause of much of the current turmoil.
ROSENCRANTZ
The single and peculiar life is bound,
With all the strength and armour of the mind,
To keep itself from noyance; but much more
That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest
The lives of many. The cease of majesty
Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw
What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel,
Fixed on the summit of the highest mount,
To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
Are mortised and adjoined; which, when it falls,
Each small annexment, petty consequence,
Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone
Did the King sigh, but with a general groan.
CLAUDIUS
Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
For we will fetters put upon this fear,
Which now goes too free-footed.
ROSENCRANTZ & GUILDENSTERN
We will haste us.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
Enter POLONIUS.
Shakespeare takes pains in the early moments of this scene to remind the audience of all the relevant information: Claudius is intent on exiling Hamlet to England, Hamlet is on his way to his mother's closet, and Polonius intends to overhear the conversation.
POLONIUS
My lord, he's going to his mother's closet:
Behind the arras I'll convey myself,
To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home:
And, as you said, and wisely was it said,
'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege:
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,
And tell you what I know.
CLAUDIUS
Thanks, dear my lord.
Exit POLONIUS
This is the only moment in which Claudius is alone on stage, and this soliloquy gives him an intimate moment with the audience. Claudius admits his guilt, but his remorse and attempt to repent may also garner some sympathy from the audience.
Like Hamlet, Claudius is caught between action and inaction. His speech links to conventional representations of despair, the sin of thinking oneself to be beyond redemption.
Claudius compares human law and divine law: on earth, political power and wealth can hide or erase a crime (as in Claudius' case), but in Heaven, every sin is readily apparent.
O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven;
It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,
A brother's murder. Pray can I not,
Though inclination be as sharp as will:
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;
And, like a man to double business bound,
I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
And both neglect. What if this cursèd hand
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
But to confront the visage of offence?
And what's in prayer but this two-fold force,
To be forestallèd ere we come to fall,
Or pardoned being down? Then I'll look up;
My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'?
That cannot be; since I am still possessed
Of those effects for which I did the murder,
My crown, mine own ambition and my queen.
May one be pardoned and retain the offence?
In the corrupted currents of this world
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice,
And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above;
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature; and we ourselves compelled,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To give in evidence. What then? what rests?
Try what repentance can: what can it not?
Yet what can it when one can not repent?
O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
O limèd soul, that, struggling to be free,
Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay!
Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel,
Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe!
All may be well.
The staging of this sequence is a challenge: Claudius, kneeling in prayer, remains oblivious to Hamlet's presence, while Hamlet menaces his uncle and addresses his thoughts to the audience.
Like Claudius, Hamlet is torn between action and inaction: ready to kill Claudius but compelled to think through the consequences. Like Claudius, Hamlet shifts the consideration from the practical concerns of the revenge tragedy (life and death) to the spiritual realm of Christianity (salvation and damnation).
The decision to undertake Claudius' damnation as well as his death is flagrantly sacrilegious, and goes considerably further than most revenge-plots. Romans 12:19 ("vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord") already warns against taking lives in the name of revenge. Hamlet goes further, literally playing God by attempting to control the fate of Claudius' soul.
Claudius' final lines give the scene its ironic coda. For all of Hamlet's insight and intelligence, he has acted in ignorance of Claudius' internal struggle, and has thus missed the perfect opportunity for revenge. And for all of Claudius' cunning and paranoia, he remains unaware of the danger in which he was placed. The audience, meanwhile, is given a privileged perspective, with insight into both characters, and, perhaps, more mixed sympathies at this point in the play.
Retires and kneels Enter HAMLET
HAMLET
Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;
And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven;
And so am I revenged. That would be scanned:
A villain kills my father; and for that,
I, his sole son, do this same villain send
To heaven.
O, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
He took my father grossly, full of bread;
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?
But in our circumstance and course of thought,
'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged,
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?
No!
Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent:
When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,
Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed;
At gaming, swearing, or about some act
That has no relish of salvation in't;
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
And that his soul may be as damned and black
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:
This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.
Exit
CLAUDIUS
[Rising]
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Exit