The Fifth Desk · Canonical Evaluation
Act I · The Map
William Shakespeare · a tragedy in five acts · twenty scenes · 29,540 spoken words · in the conflated text of the Second Quarto (1604–05) and the Folio (1623), the Collins edition as Project Gutenberg prints it
Mode
Revenge tragedy turned inward; a tragedy of state and family played as a tragedy of consciousness
Mythos
The Fall, a murder in a garden by a serpent through the ear; Cain’s crime, a brother’s murder; Pyrrhus over Priam, the avenger who stands and does nothing
Phase
One command, “remember me”, carried from the battlements to the duel; the play within the play at the centre
Presentation
Drama; five acts and twenty scenes, about seven-tenths verse by words, in a text conflated from the Second Quarto of 1604–05 and the Folio of 1623
Register
From Claudius’s balanced state verse to the antic prose, the Player’s heavier epic style, the Mousetrap’s couplets, Ophelia’s ballads and the gravedigger’s law
Scale
A court under watch, two families, a state in succession, one mind
Governing Proposition
A prince told by his father’s ghost that the new king murdered him must act on a truth no one else can see, in a court that watches him as closely as he watches it. The play’s wager is that the self exceeds every sign of it, so that it cannot be known from outside and cannot act cleanly on what it knows; the revenge comes only when the revenger is dying, by the murderer’s own device.
Act II · The Essay
Movement I
“Who’s there?” The play’s first line is a challenge, and the wrong man asks it. Bernardo, coming to relieve the watch, challenges the sentry already on it, and is told, “Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.” The question goes on being asked of the wrong people for five acts. The Ghost comes in armour twice that night and speaks to no one. Horatio, brought up to the platform as a sceptic, sees it and reaches for Rome before Caesar fell, when “the sheeted dead / Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets”, lines the Second Quarto gives and the Folio does not. Terror has opened the play before anyone in it has said what is wrong.
The next scene is a court in daylight, and its king speaks in balanced pairs. Claudius’s opening address, at 299 words one of the longest speeches in the play, has taken his brother’s widow “With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage”, and moves on to Norway and to Laertes’s leave. The prince’s first line is an aside and a pun: “A little more than kin, and less than kind!” When his mother asks why grief seems so particular with him, he gives the play its subject: “Seems, madam! Nay, it is; I know not seems.” Every form of grief, he says, could be acted: “For they are actions that a man might play; / But I have that within which passeth show; / These but the trappings and the suits of woe.”
Alone, he wishes himself undone. “O that this too too solid flesh would melt”, the Folio’s word, where the Second Quarto has “sallied”. The world is “an unweeded garden, / That grows to seed”, a garden before anyone has told him how his father died. “But two months dead!” “Frailty, thy name is woman!” He measures his uncle against his father and himself against a hero: “no more like my father / Than I to Hercules”. In this act Hamlet speaks nothing but verse, and “father” is named twenty-nine times. In the fifth act the word is named twice.
Movement II
On the battlements the Ghost speaks at last, in the longest speech of the act, 372 words. “I am thy father’s spirit; / Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night”. The story the court was told is the story of Eden: “’Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, / A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark / Is by a forged process of my death / Rankly abus’d”. And then: “The serpent that did sting thy father’s life / Now wears his crown.” The poison went in “the porches of my ears”. The murder was done in a garden, by a serpent, through the ear, and the play goes on naming ears, twenty-five times in all.
“Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.” The son promises to wipe the table of his memory clean of everything but the command, and the first thing he writes there is a proposition: “That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain”. Remembering, remembrance and memory are named twenty-eight times. He swears his friends to silence on the sword, with the Ghost repeating “Swear” beneath the stage, and tells them he may “put an antic disposition on”. Until now he has spoken only verse. He leaves the scene with the burden in a couplet: “The time is out of joint” — “O cursed spite, / That ever I was born to set it right!”
The second act is a court of watchers. Polonius sends a man after his own son to spy on him, “By indirections find directions out”, and tells the King and Queen, in a speech that announces “brevity is the soul of wit”, that the prince is mad: “Mad call I it; for to define true madness, / What is’t but to be nothing else but mad?” Madness is named once in the first act and thirteen times in the second. The prince plays it, and nearly three-quarters of his words in the act are prose. To the two friends sent to sound him he says what the world has become: “What a piece of work is man!” and then, “what is this quintessence of dust?”
Movement III
The players arrive in the second scene of the second act, the longest scene in the play at 4,644 words, nearly a sixth of the whole. Hamlet asks for a speech he remembers, and its style is older and heavier than anything around it. Pyrrhus, a son come to avenge his father, stands over old Priam “total gules; horridly trick’d / With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons”, and the sword stops in the air: “So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood; / And, like a neutral to his will and matter, / Did nothing.” Then it falls. Polonius’s verdict is “This is too long.” The play has set up its own mirror, a fourth son of a murdered father, and an avenger who pauses before he strikes.
Alone again, Hamlet speaks the longest speech in the play: “O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!” The Player wept real tears in a fiction: “For Hecuba? / What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, / That he should weep for her?” The son with the real cause “can say nothing”, and is ashamed that he “Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words”. Then he doubts the cause itself: “The spirit that I have seen / May be the devil”. In the sources the madness is policy and the revenger rules. Here the revenger needs proof, and he will get it from a performance: “the play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.”
The next day he is watched while he thinks. The King and Polonius, “lawful espials”, hide to see him meet Ophelia, and he comes on speaking to no one: “To be, or not to be”. The speech runs 277 words, and it reasons its way to the cost of reasoning: “Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; / And thus the native hue of resolution / Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought”. It calls death “The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn / No traveller returns”, though a traveller has returned to him. Then he turns on Ophelia, “Get thee to a nunnery”, and she is left with the wreck: “O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown!”
Movement IV
Hamlet tells the players what playing is for: “to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own image, scorn her own image”. The dumb show tells the murder before the play speaks it, and Ophelia asks what it meant. His answer holds the play’s arithmetical centre. Word 14,770 of 29,540 falls in “Ay, or any show that you’ll show him”, on the word “show”. The Mousetrap runs in stiff old couplets until the poisoner pours poison into a sleeper’s ear. The King rises, and at word 15,690, a little past the middle, the play within the play is broken off: “Give me some light”.
The King, alone, tries to pray, in 294 words, longer than all but one of Hamlet’s soliloquies. “O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; / It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t”. He knows the court’s law and heaven’s: “Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice”, but above “There is no shuffling”. Hamlet comes in behind the kneeling man with his sword drawn: “Now might I do it pat, now he is praying”. It is Pyrrhus over Priam, and the sword again stops in the air, for a reason: a man killed at prayer goes to heaven. When Hamlet has gone the King stands up: “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: / Words without thoughts never to heaven go.” The prayer had failed, and the reason was wrong.
In his mother’s closet he kills at once. “How now? a rat?” He runs his sword through the arras and finds Polonius. “As kill a king!” she repeats, and whether she knew is never settled. He sets two portraits before her, “Look here upon this picture, and on this”, and the Ghost returns, seen by him and not by her: “Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.” He tells her he is “But mad in craft”. “Mother” is named twenty-seven times in this act. The revenger has killed the wrong man first, a father, and has made another son of a murdered father.
Movement V
The fourth act breaks into seven scenes, five of them under 600 words, and gives the prince 711 words. He tells the King “how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar” and is shipped to England. On the way he meets Fortinbras’s army, marching to fight for “a little patch of ground / That hath in it no profit but the name”, and speaks the last soliloquy, “How all occasions do inform against me”, which the Folio does not have. In Denmark Ophelia sings and hands out flowers, “There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance”, and the rabble cry “Laertes shall be king!” The third son is home, and the King makes him his instrument. The Queen tells how Ophelia drowned: “There is a willow grows aslant a brook”.
In the graveyard dust, earth and clay are named sixteen times. Two clowns argue the inquest, “argal, she drowned herself wittingly”, and call it “crowner’s quest law”. The gravedigger came to his trade the day young Hamlet was born, and his houses “last till doomsday”. He throws up a skull, and Hamlet sees it handled “as if ’twere Cain’s jawbone, that did the first murder!” Then the jester’s: “Alas, poor Yorick!” The dust of Alexander might be found “stopping a bung-hole”, and Hamlet caps it with a couplet: “Imperious Caesar, dead and turn’d to clay, / Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.” The revenge play has stopped to consider what everyone in it will become.
Back at court the prince has stopped planning. “There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, / Rough-hew them how we will.” Before the fencing match: “there’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow”, and “the readiness is all”. The match does what he could not. The Queen drinks the poison meant for him; Laertes, struck with his own envenomed point, names the King, “It is a poison temper’d by himself”; and Hamlet kills the King only when he is himself dying, by the King’s own device. He gives his voice to Fortinbras: “the rest is silence.” Horatio answers, “flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!”, and Fortinbras, the son who inherits, has the last word on the show: “Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage”, for “Such a sight as this / Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.”
Act III · The Twelve
The design passes the subtractive test: three sons of murdered fathers, Hamlet, Laertes and Fortinbras, and a fourth in the Player’s Pyrrhus. Without Laertes the end has no instrument; without Fortinbras no one inherits “the election” (5.2). Hamlet names the method: “by the image of my cause I see / The portraiture of his” (5.2). What holds the axis at 8.6 is the matter around the design: Reynaldo, the embassy, a dumb show that tells the Mousetrap before it is played, pirates who exist to bring Hamlet home, Osric. The conflation adds 2,061 words found in only one early printing. On the work alone, two tenths higher.
Score: 8.6 / 10
The disclosure can be stated and it holds: the self exceeds every sign of it, so it cannot be known from outside, nor act cleanly on what it knows. “I have that within which passeth show; / These but the trappings and the suits of woe” (1.2). Knowing unmakes doing: “Thus conscience does make cowards of us all” (3.1). A court that cannot see inward spies instead (2.1, 3.1), and “Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice” (3.3). Held off the top by its own unanswered question, “I do not know / Why yet I live to say ‘This thing’s to do;’” (4.4), and by a disgust at Gertrude larger than anything the play shows her doing.
Score: 9.6 / 10
Height near the ceiling; frequency high but broken. Terror opens the play, “Who’s there?” (1.1), and peaks in “I could a tale unfold whose lightest word / Would harrow up thy soul” (1.5). Grandeur turns to ash in “What a piece of work is man!” and “what is this quintessence of dust?” (2.2). Then the meditation of 3.1, the Ghost in the closet (3.4), the willow (4.7), Yorick (5.1), “the readiness is all” and “flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!” (5.2). Held below King Lear on frequency: the stretches at ground level are longer and more numerous — Reynaldo, the embassy, the boy players, 4.1–4.3, Osric.
Score: 9.5 / 10
Myth built, in two structures that carry weight. The first is the Fall: the murder is done in a garden, by a “serpent”, through the ear, “’Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, / A serpent stung me” (1.5), and leaves “an unweeded garden” (1.2). The murderer names his crime as Cain’s, “It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t” (3.3). The second is Pyrrhus, who over Priam “like a neutral to his will and matter, / Did nothing” (2.2), as Hamlet stands over the kneeling King (3.3). Held below the summit: the ghost and the feigned madness are revenge-play convention as much as myth, and Jephthah, Niobe and Hercules are evoked, not built.
Score: 9.3 / 10
The sources are Saxo Grammaticus’s Amleth, of about 1200, Belleforest’s retelling of 1570, and a lost English Hamlet on the stage by about 1589; Kyd’s Spanish Tragedy had already set the ghost, the delay, the madness and the play within the play. In Saxo and Belleforest the madness is policy, and Amleth succeeds and rules. Here the revenger doubts the ghost, “The spirit that I have seen / May be the devil” (2.2), kills the wrong man first, and kills the King only when dying, by the King’s own device; the soliloquy becomes thought. Held low on the stake: story and form were proven, and with the old play lost the turn from it cannot be measured.
Score: 9.1 / 10
Change the form and the play loses what it knows. Its subject, the gap between being and seeming, is staged through acting: the Player weeps “For Hecuba?” (2.2); the Mousetrap tests guilt by performance, “the play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king” (2.2); Hamlet plays mad. The arithmetical centre falls in 3.2, on “show”. The soliloquy becomes the shape of a mind, and Hamlet speaks 39.2 per cent of the play: only verse in Act I, 73.1 per cent prose in Act II. Held below the top by sprawl and by the unit: this text places a seventh soliloquy (4.4) after the killing of Polonius, where the Folio has none after 3.3.
Score: 9.5 / 10
Evidence rather than promise, in a critical record as large as any work’s: Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister (1795–96), Coleridge (1811–12), Hazlitt (1817), Turgenev (1860), Nietzsche (1872), Freud (1900), Bradley (1904), Eliot (1919), Dover Wilson (1935), Greenblatt (2001), and the single-text editions that reopened the play itself. The yield is in the text. Whether the Ghost is “an honest ghost” (1.5) or “the devil” (2.2) is never settled; nor whether Gertrude knew, “As kill a king!” (3.4); nor whether Ophelia fell or chose, “her death was doubtful” (5.1); nor whether Hamlet is “mad in craft” (3.4). Held a tenth off the top because some of the yield is the conflation’s: no early printing gives this play.
Score: 9.9 / 10
A published work, so intrinsic force and achieved reach are scored together. The force is great: revenge tragedy turned against itself; the soliloquy made the stage form of thinking; a play that examines playing, whose end is “to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature” (3.2); a hero whose action is consciousness. Unlike King Lear’s, the reach was not delayed by a rewriting that held the stage. Achieved reach is scored with intrinsic force: the redirection is immediate and continuous, through the Romantic hero of Goethe and Coleridge, Turgenev, Freud’s Oedipus complex, worked out partly on this play, Chekhov’s The Seagull, Joyce’s Ulysses, Stoppard (1966) and Müller’s Hamletmachine (1977).
Score: 9.7 / 10
Survival is demonstrated over four centuries: the play has held the stage continuously apart from the closure of 1642–60, and no rewriting displaced it. The surface is Elizabethan in places: the boy players, “an aery of children, little eyases” (2.2), the theatre quarrel of 1600–01; Wittenberg, and a Ghost from purgatory; the Danish drinking (1.4); the wager, “he hath laid on twelve for nine” (5.2); Osric’s jargon. None of it is needed to follow the play. The cost has been the stage’s long habit of cutting it, Fortinbras most often, and the text has survived that. The depth pays nothing for its moment; the slightly heavier topical surface costs a step.
Score: 9.7 / 10
Judged on Shakespeare’s English, with no translation between. The range of registers is as wide as any in drama: Claudius balancing opposites, “With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage” (1.2); a first line that is a pun, “A little more than kin, and less than kind!” (1.2); the Pyrrhus speech in an older, heavier style, “Now is he total gules; horridly trick’d” (2.2); the Mousetrap’s couplets, Ophelia’s ballads, the gravedigger’s “argal”; Osric mocked in his own idiom, “to divide him inventorially would dizzy the arithmetic of memory” (5.2). Held below the top by construction: the pirates, a signet that happens to be in Hamlet’s purse, a rising reported, a drowning narrated.
Score: 9.6 / 10
The tonal range runs from the clowns to the Ghost, and one law holds across it. The gravedigger’s riddle, “the houses he makes last till doomsday” (5.1), and the Ghost’s purgatory obey one physics: rot beneath a surface, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark” (1.4), and a death that levels it. The plot is less strict: Hamlet is a student bound for Wittenberg (1.2) and thirty by the sexton’s count (5.1); “But two months dead” (1.2) becomes “twice two months” (3.2); “The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn / No traveller returns” (3.1) comes after the Ghost has returned. In this text 4.5 brings on Horatio and gives the lines to a Gentleman: the seam shows.
Score: 9.2 / 10
The orders are many, held by one condition, a rot no one can see whole: consciousness; two families broken in parallel; the state in succession, “Popp’d in between the election and my hopes” (5.2), in rebellion, “Laertes shall be king!” (4.5), and at war over “a little patch of ground” (4.4); law, labour and class in the graveyard, “the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier” (5.1); the theatre as a trade (2.2); the sacred, from purgatory to a prayer that fails (3.3). Integrated, not listed: the worm makes king and beggar “two dishes, but to one table” (4.3). Nature is held weakly, “a sterile promontory” (2.2), a frame, not a force.
Score: 9.5 / 10
Act IV · The Reckoning
9.4 / 10 — Final Average
Canonical Placement: Tier V — Epochal
Strongest Dimensions
The Bottomless Well at 9.9, with Pressure on Tradition and The Imperishable at 9.7. Four centuries of re-examination with the play’s own questions still open, a revenge tragedy turned inward whose reach began at once and has not stopped, and a survival on the stage that no rewriting displaced.
Limiting Dimension
The Inevitable at 8.6, held by the matter around the design — Reynaldo, the embassy, the dumb show, the pirates, Osric — and by the conflated text, which carries passages that stand in only one early printing; on the work alone it would stand two tenths higher. Next above it, The Swerve at 9.1 and The Inner Law at 9.2: a proven story on a proven form whose immediate source is lost, and slips in age, time and Horatio.
The Necessity Cap clears at 8.6 against a threshold of 7.5. The Coherence Floor clears with room: The Living Form at 9.5, The Made at 9.6, The Inner Law at 9.2, each against 7.0. The Epochal Gate is met on all five: Pressure on Tradition at 9.7, The Imperishable at 9.7, The Unconcealment at 9.6, The Archetypal Deep at 9.3 and The Swerve at 9.1 clear the bar of 8.5. The Universal Minimum is met — no axis falls below 8.6, against 7.5 — and The Encompassed clears its own floor of 6.0 at 9.5. Every summit condition is met.
Basis · a full reading of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark in Project Gutenberg e-text #1524 (1998), labelled the Collins edition — five acts, twenty scenes and 29,540 spoken words. The file names no editor or date for that edition. The text is a conflated one. It joins the Second Quarto of 1604–05 and the Folio of 1623, as editors did from the eighteenth century until the single-text editions of the 1980s and after, and so gives every passage that either printing has: a play that neither gives, and longer than either. It prints the Folio’s “too too solid flesh” and keeps the Second Quarto’s “the dram of eale”. Where the two printings differ in a way that bears on a score, the entry says so. The English is Shakespeare’s, in modernised spelling and punctuation, with no translation between. Quotations are from this text and cited by act and scene.