Claudius: and I’m still enjoying the wages of my sins! (3.3.51-56) #Inky Cloak #SlowShakespeare

CLAUDIUS      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 th’offence?          (3.3.51-56)

Claudius realises what a bind he’s in—and it’s desperately human. But O, what form of prayer can serve my turn; even assuming that I find I’m able to pray, what the hell do I say? what do I pray FOR? ‘Forgive me my foul murder’? that’d be the obvious thing, yes, it sounds so, so simple and straightforward. But that cannot be, since I am still possessed of those effects for which I did the murder, my crown, my own ambition, and my Queen. I got what I wanted! I’m still enjoying it—everything that motivated me to kill my brother. He can sob it out, even, the last bit, and my Queen, not essential to his fratricidal usurpation perhaps, but its most personal aspect. Desire—love—not power, was perhaps his strongest spur. So may one be pardoned and retain th’offence? If I beg God’s mercy, and receive it, does that mean I have to give up everything that I gained by sinning? Can I still retain, enjoy, and exercise the profits of my crimes–the actual wages of my sins? It’s personal, but it’s also an enduringly knotty theological point, and a legal one. What restitution might be required of me, if saying that I’m sorry isn’t enough? (Because I’m not sorry?)

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