HAMLET Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon?
He that hath killed my King and whored my mother,
Popped in between th’election and my hopes,
Thrown out his angle for my proper life
And with such cozenage. Is’t not perfect conscience
To quit him with this arm? And is’t not to be damned
To let this canker of our nature come
In further evil?
HORATIO It must be shortly known to him from England
What is the issue of the business there.
HAMLET It will be short. The interim’s mine,
And a man’s life’s no more than to say one. (5.2.66ff.)*
Hamlet’s talking himself into something, co-opting Horatio’s support for a course of action—presumably killing Claudius, although he doesn’t state it outright. Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon? I’m not just justified in—doing it—I’m more or less obliged? He that hath killed my King—not just my father, but my King; it was treason, regicide, not just murder—and whored my mother (whored is ugly, but Hamlet seems now not to be blaming Gertrude, suggesting instead that she was taken advantage of?) For the first time, Hamlet also suggests his own grudge, in that Claudius has popped in between th’election and my hopes—he, Hamlet, should have been the rightful heir! he should be king now! and, in this latest outrage, thrown out his angle for my proper life and with such cozenage? He tried to entrap me, to play me like a fish on a line, double-dealing, plotting my murder with such cunning and deception! Is’t not perfect conscience to quit him with this arm? I wouldn’t have the slightest compunction in paying him back, and in kind—killing him, in other words, but Hamlet’s representing it as tit for tat, proportionate, HE started it—and by my own hand, not some remote control killing either. And is’t not to be damned to let this canker of our nature come in further evil? I’d be doing the right thing; I’d be doing the world a favour, by preventing—him—from doing anything else. Cutting him out, cutting him off. Horatio’s the pragmatist, thinking aloud: it must be shortly known to him from England what is the issue of the business there. You haven’t got long, you know; there’ll be a report, a letter, an ambassador—you don’t even know what happened, whether your forgery was accepted! Hamlet agrees: it will be short; yeah, any day now. But until then, the interim’s mine—I’ve got until then to do something, got until then to act. Until then, I’m the one with the upper hand, and a man’s life’s no more than to say one. A life’s a brief and fragile thing, that can be gone in that interim, in that instant. Whether it’s him or me.
*For the first time, I’ve added a passage from the F text, as many editors (and directors) do here, following ‘conscience’.
