HAMLET … wilt thou know
Th’effect of what I wrote?
HORATIO Ay, good my lord.
HAMLET An earnest conjuration from the King,
As England was his faithful tributary,
As love between them like the palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear
And stand a comma ’tween their amities,
And many such like ‘as’, sir, of great charge,
That on the view and knowing of these contents,
Without debatement further more or less,
He should those bearers put to sudden death,
Not shriving time allowed. (5.2.36-47)
But enough about my amazing skills as a forger and my elegant handwriting, says Hamlet, wilt thou know th’effect of what I wrote? Wanna know what I actually said, in my brilliantly clever fake royal commission? Ay, good my lord. Yes, absolutely, and you’re going to tell me, aren’t you. It sounds as if Hamlet’s repeating what he actually wrote, not even offering a paraphrase: it was an earnest conjuration from the King, totally serious, absolutely sincere in its request, as England was his faithful tributary—longstanding diplomatic ties, a special relationship, Denmark the senior partner, obviously, and expecting to be obeyed—and so, just to keep that all ticking along nicely, as love between them like the palm might flourish, as peace should still her wheaten garland wear (plants sprout, randomly; similes morph and clash) and stand a comma ’tween their amities, the slightest pause (what matters here is less the substance than the style, diplospeak, immaculate ambassadorial prose, which Hamlet is parodying)—and many such like ‘as’, sir, of great charge—all the clunking, overdetermined similes, vitally important—but, setting aside the niceties, cutting to the chase, my letter instructed the English king that on the view and knowing of these contents, as soon as he read it (a stipulation recapitulating Claudius’s own) without debatement further more or less, no discussion, brooking no argument, no objection, he should those bearers put to sudden death not shriving time allowed. The couriers themselves, bearing the letter, were to be executed, so quickly as to not even be given the time to make their own confession and be absolved. (This is one of Hamlet’s ruthless obsessions, following his father’s own murder.) HARSH. And the contrast between the elegance of Hamlet’s language, the wit of his parody, the skill of his story telling, and the savagery of his conclusion, and the action it narrates, is deliberate, stark, chilling. Does Horatio know where it’s going, even? Is he shocked?
