Claudius: I have another cunning plan! Laertes: I’LL DO IT! (4.7.59-68) #InkyCloak #SlowShakespeare

CLAUDIUS      To thine own peace. If he be now returned

As checking at his voyage, and that he means

No more to undertake it, I will work him

To an exploit, now ripe in my device,

Under the which he shall not choose but fall.

And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe

But even his mother shall uncharge the practice

And call it accident.

LAERTES                    My lord, I will be ruled

The rather if you could devise it so

That I might be the organ.    (4.7.59-68)

Oh, don’t worry, reassures Claudius, what I have in mind will lead to thine own peace, your own satisfaction, on your terms. If he be now returned as checking at his voyage—if he has indeed come back, rejecting the nice trip I organised for him, a kind of gap year, really, off to England—and that he means no more to undertake it—and assuming it’s not just a postponement but a cancellation, ungrateful pup (Claudius maintains the fiction that the trip to England was just that, some kind of vacation or diversion, perhaps even devised by Hamlet himself)—well, if that’s the case, plan B: I will work him to an exploit, now ripe in my device, under the which he shall not choose but fall. I have (another) cunning plan! I’ll engineer it, manipulate him, so that he’ll commit to a scheme, a kind of adventure even, which I have just come up with, oh yes, which will definitely be the end of him. No way out this time. End of. And, moreover, for his death no wind of blame shall breathe but even his mother shall uncharge the practice and call it accident. This is fool-proof! I’ve got it all worked out; it’ll look like a tragic accident, it’ll fool even his mother—and no one will be able to be blamed for it. (Claudius is still being careful, not saying directly, and you are going to do this, to Laertes. He wants Laertes to volunteer. And of course Laertes does, with alacrity.) My lord, I will be ruled the rather if you could devise it so that I might be the organ. I’ll do it, whatever you’re planning, I’ll do it. Let me be the instrument of Hamlet’s death. (Although organ here doesn’t just mean the musical instrument, there’s an echo of the savage encounter between Hamlet and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, when he accuses them of attempting to play him like a recorder. Claudius is very much playing Laertes.)

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