HAMLET Was’t Hamlet wronged Laertes? Never Hamlet.
If Hamlet from himself be ta’en away
And when he’s not himself does wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet does it not; Hamlet denies it.
Who does it then? His madness. If’t be so,
Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged –
His madness is poor Hamlet’s enemy.
Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil
Free me so far in your most generous thoughts
That I have shot my arrow o’er the house
And hurt my brother. (5.2.211-221)
This sounds like special pleading, and in some ways it is—was’t Hamlet wronged Laertes? Never Hamlet—if I did bad things when I was mad then I wasn’t responsible for my actions. If Hamlet from himself be ta’en away and when he’s not himself does wrong Laertes, then Hamlet does it not; Hamlet denies it. I was not culpable. I didn’t mean to do it. (It’s all in terms of wronging Laertes, though; Polonius and Ophelia are never named.) It’s also a legal question about intention and insanity; in some ways it’s a recapitulation of the gravediggers’ discussion of Ophelia’s death, and like that it’s partly one for the Inns of Court boys. What does it mean to be responsible, or not, for one’s own death, or the death of another? But Hamlet keeps going (and his discussion of himself in the third person is unsettling, as if he’s already standing outside himself, seeing himself as object, actor, not subject). Who does it then? Who’s to blame? (Always the big question.) His madness. That’s what’s to blame. If’t be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged—his madness is poor Hamlet’s enemy. I’m a victim in all this too! (Going a bit far here?) But, setting aside the legal quibbling, let my disclaiming from a purposed evil—I can honestly say I never meant to do you harm!—free me so far in your most generous thoughts that I have shot my arrow o’er the house and hurt my brother. If you can regard me with charity, compassion, forgiveness, then please accept that—everything terrible that I’ve done to you, to your family—it’s been by accident, not design. My brother seems a bit much, but it brings out the parallel between the two young men, their similar situations, their shared isolation. And there’s a wilful strangeness in the image of the arrow, shot high and blind, the unintended consequences of an act of violence, and the randomness of things.
