4.1
The Queen informs her husband about the bloody murder of Polonius. But the body is missing - what the f*ck has Hamlet done with it? The King orders Rosie and Guildy to find out - they are still 'friends' with Hamlet, after all, he might take them into his confidence.
4.2
Rosie and Guildy bump
into Hamlet in a corridor, and he has a bit of a go at them for being the
King's lap-dogs, or 'sponges'.
4.3
Hamlet is recaptured by
the King's troops, and - whilst still pretending to be mad - eventually admits what
he has done with Polonius' corpse - he's dumped him under some stairs. Hearing
of this foul deed, Claudius is now in fear for his life - so he decides that
rather than being merely banished to England, Hamlet should meet with
a little 'accident' en route. Who should do this wicked deed? Rosie and Guildy!
4.4
Elsewhere in Ellsinore,
near the shore of Ellsinore, Rosie and Guildy have brought Hamlet, ready for
him to be placed on board the first ship for England. Why England? This is
never really explained in any great depth, and indeed there's quite a funny
exchange about this very point in Act V scene 1, where someone points out that,
being bonkers, Hamlet will fit right in.
As he waits to begin his
exile, Hamlet sees the massed troops of Norway marching to a war with Poland they
know they will lose, because it is too well-defended. This immediately puts
Hamlet in mind of his own predicament - this army is, almost literally, taking
'arms against a sea of troubles'. They are prepared to do the right thing, even
if it means their deaths, even if it changes nothing - because it is the right
thing to do.
And this leads Hamlet
onto another soliloquy, a follow-up to the 'to be' one, and just as good in my
opinion but nowhere near as famous. It's a sort of precursor of Kipling's 'If'.
What is a man, if his
chief good and market of his time, be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more!
Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave
us not that capability and godlike reason to fust in us, unus'd. Now, whether
it be bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple of thinking too precisely on th'
event-
i.e. thinking too much
A thought which,
quater'd, hath but one part wisdom and ever three parts coward -
Yes, okay, we got the
point.
- I do not know why yet
I live to say 'This thing's to do'. Sith, I have cause, and will, and strength,
and means, to do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me! Witness, this
army of such mass and charge...exposing what is mortal and unsure to all that
fortune, death, and danger dare - even for an eggshell!
Okay, so he drifted
off the point towards the end there - I'm not sure about the whole eggshell metaphor
- but the point is Hamlet is no longer umming and ahhing about whether to be or
not. He's decided. He's going to be. He's going to fight. He's going to f*ck
em, f*ck the lot of em!
He concludes, that, to
be a man, my son:
Rightly, to be great, is
not to stir without great argument - but greatly to find quarrel in a straw
when honour's at the stake! How stand I, then, that have a father kill'd, a
mother stain'd, excitements of my reason and my blood - and let all sleep,
while to my shame I see the imminent death of twenty thousand men? ...O, from
this time forth - my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
Brilliant. Can't
understand why it's not as famous as the rest of it. Hamlet reasons that if you
are fighting evil, you shouldn't wait for 'good reason' or 'proof' - just get
the f*ck on with it, man!
And, as Tony Blair
discovered, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG.
4.5
Back in the castle, and
the King and Queen are getting a bit worried about Ophelia. Not only has her
boyfriend dumped her and killed her dad - but now she's started bloody singing
as well!
To be fair, the lovely
Lalla is very good here, and by way of a contrast to Hamlet's pretend madness,
the character's nervous breakdown and PTSD is very sensitively depicted. I'm
not totally sure about the choice of song, though - it's a rather tawdry
drinking song about a man who promises to marry a girl to get her into bed, but
who, once he’s shagged her, tells her that he doesn't want to marry her now, as
he only marries the sorts of girls who don't shag around willy nilly. Are we
supposed to infer from this that Hamlet has in fact shagged Ophelia? I don't
know. I’m not an
expert!
Gertrude writes a quick
postcard to Laertes, telling him about recent events and, in particular, the
distressed state of his sister. 'Something rotten in state Denmark. Wish you
were here.'
Seconds later Laertes
walks in, clutching said postcard, in a foul mood. His sister is delighted
to see him and snogs his face off. Icky. Laertes asks how Ophelia got into this
state, so the King tells him it was all Hamlet's fault - and
that Laertes will now be his successor.
And then Ophelia starts
bloody singing again. With a hey ho and a hey nonny no..
4.6
Down at the docks,
Horatio is having fun with some rough sailors when the postie arrives with a
postcard from Hamlet. The postcard explains that Hamlet's boat got boarded by
pirates - PIRATES! - and that he became their prisoner, until they realised who
he was and, in return for the promise of some ready cash, took him all the
way back to Denmark. Hamlet then goes on to say that he has some other
shit-hot news but it will have to wait till he can tell him in person.
Oh, and Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern? They are still sailing for England, apparently.
4.7.
Laertes is having a bit
of a conference with King Claudius. Why the f*ck didn't you just have Hamlet
executed for murdering Polonius, rather than exiling him? Claudius explains
that he couldn't have Hamlet killed, because it would upset his mother, and
Claudius loves her so he doesn't really want to see her upset.
In rushes a messenger
with the shit-hot news that Hamlet is back in town. And he's naked, apparently.
Not quite sure about this bit, to be honest. I mean, tackle out?
The King talks some shit
for a few minutes, then eventually comes up with a plan. Laertes is good at
sword fighting - he should challenge Hamlet to a duel. And just to make
sure that Hamlet is killed, Laertes' sword will be tipped with a poison, so
that one scratch would prove fatal!
Butthe King isn't one of
those rubbish villains who hasn't got a plan B. Just in case Hamlet looks like
he is winning the duel and Laertes doesn't scratch him, they will offer Hamlet
a refreshing glass of water to quench the thirst he will have worked up. This
water will also, of course, be poisoned. With an unction incurable and
instantaneously fatal.
Laertes agrees it is a
good plan. They have thought of everything. Nothing can possibly go wrong.
There is a willow grows
aslant a brook...
And then Gertrude rushes
in with the bad news. Apparently Ophelia was wandering the garden in her nightie,
pale and gaunt, in a sort of sleepwalk Lady Macbeth-style, singing quietly to
herself, when, reaching for a flower overhanging a misty, stagnant pond, the
branch she was standing on broke and she slipped into the water, and then lay
there, still singing sad songs peacefully to herself as the water slipped over
her head and she drowned, her hair floating around her like water weed.
I mean, wow. How f*cking
goth is that? That is like so totally goth. That is goth up to eleven. It’s
like, oh, something out of a Nick Cave video.
(Note: it is also quite
pre-Raphaelite as well as being goth)
5.1
Getting near the end
now. A couple of gravediggers are digging a grave for Ophelia - 'Do you dig
graves?' 'Yeah, they're all right, yeah'. They are a little resentful that
Ophelia is being given a Christian burial when she committed suicide, and they
conclude it's one rule for the knobs and one for the nobbed.
Hamlet wanders in, in
another of his funny moods, and one of the gravediggers hands him a skull he
has dug up, saying that the skull belonged to Yorick. And this is where I'm
afraid I'm going to have to take issue with REDACTED, because the play makes it
clear that the same gravedigger has been working in the churchyard for twenty
years, and so he can remember that he dug a grave for Yorick in the
same spot, which is how he identifies the skull.
Alas poor
Yorrick - I knew him, Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most
excellent fancy.
Incidentally, there are
no Welsh people in this play. The only Shakespeares with Welsh people in are, I
think, Cymbeline, Henry IV, Henry V
and the Merry Wives of Windsor. Look
you!
Anyway, Hamlet concludes
that death is final, there is no afterlife... and then, when the King and Queen
walk in with pall-bearers carrying Ophelia, he suddenly realises who the grave
is for.
Sweets to the sweet!
Farewell!
Laertes is not
entirely chuffed to see Hamlet - the guy who he thinks is responsible
for his sister's madness and eventual death. Hamlet, however, is distraught to
see Ophelia dead, and they end up having a 'okay, who feels the worst right
now?' competition.
It looks like it's going
to end in fisticuffs, until Horatio says 'Leave it! He's not worth it!' and
drags Hamlet away for a quiet drink in a nearby pub. They have pubs in this
castle, okay? It’s f*cking Denmark.
5.2
Over a couple of
shandies, Hamlet explains that when he was with the pirates, he found a letter
from the King ordering Rosie and Guildy to kill him before they reached
England. This discovery has only made Hamlet more determined to wreak his
revenge...
...and then it comes
time for the big duel, which, in the BBC production, takes place in a big hall.
I'm not going to go into
any great detail. Suffice it to say that Hamlet behaves very nobly and
honourably towards Laertes, and tries to apologise, but Laertes mind has been
poisoned towards Hamlet by the King, and so a swordfight is inevitable (and a
good way to end a play).
Of course, being
Shakespeare, it's one of those incredibly chatty swordfights...
A hit! A very palpable
hit!
...whilst the King
watches, keeping a devious eye on the cup of poisoned 'water' he has
prepared for Hamlet if Laertes doesn't scratch him with his pre-poisoned sword.
With Hamlet winning, a
bell sounds 'ding-ding' to mark the end of the first round. The next bit,
though, is a bit confusing. The Queen is mopping Hamlet's brow, when the King
asks her to give Hamlet the poisoned water. However, for some reason I'm not
entirely clear about, the Queen drinks it. Is it an accident? Or suicide? Or does
she do it to save her son’s life?
Or maybe it's a bit of
all three at once. That said, after drinking it she does seem to offer the cup
to Hamlet, who refuses it, so maybe it's all a big cock-up. Whoopsadaisy!
Anyway, with the Queen
fatally poisoned but not actually quite yet dead if looking a little green
around the arras, the fighting resumes - and Hamlet is wounded with the
poisoned sword. And then Laertes is also wounded with the poisoned sword. It's
all a bit mad and violent and bloody, basically.
And then the Queen dies.
Seeing that he has been
scratched with the poison, Laertes explains to Hamlet that he too has been
'slain', telling him all about the King's 'poison the little sod' plan. 'The
king's to blame'. And so Hamlet, finally getting his f*cking act together after
four hours, stabs him.
And then the King dies.
And then Laertes dies
(after neatly observing the inherent irony of the situation).
But Hamlet? He's not
quite dead yet. His chum Horatio is so distraught at his fate that he too tries
to drink the poison, but Hamlet tells him not to be so bloody stupid; if
there's no-one left alive, no-one will be able to tell the story of Hamlet,
will they? And it's a bloody great story.
And then Hamlet dies.
The rest is silence!
By which he means not
that the rest of the play is silent – there’s still some dialogue to go - but
that he has now finally, found an escape from his sorrows. At last, he will try
and get some rest.
And then Fortinbras,
King of Norway, saunters in to discover dead bodies scattered about the place.
Horatio explains what has been going on, and Fortinbras announces that
Hamlet should have a soldier's burial. He also mentions that he, Fortinbras,
will now be King of Denmark, since all the other candidates are lying about the
place turning green with their tongues hanging out.
And then, just when
things can't get any more dramatic, an Englishman runs in with the news...
Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern are dead!
Apparently
he killed them on the orders of the late King (who was presumably trying
to cover his tracks re: the murder of Hamlet)... who is unfortunately no
longer in a position to thank him.
And on that bombshell,
they carry out Hamlet's body, a drum sounds, all goes dark and...
The end!!!
And that’s it. That’s
all of Shakespeare.
