Act 1.3
King:
Polonius, in all your wisdom, you still talk as the wind does to the skies. We now will speak of things none can despise although not one would of them would seek. And in the throes of such a conversation nothing must be remembered. If either one shall speak of this, be in soul and mind dismembered. Even passed my very death, this secret beyond the king shall reign. I do not need repeat myself for you, my friend, are sane. And sanity is what I need, a voice of right and clarity. I think of you as someone true and will speak in all due brevity.
Polonius:
You honor me, my lord, in this—a dialogue that will not happen. Its gravity I understand and its vacancy does threaten. You can surely trust in me to lose what never was. And so we can proceed from here to some place I will not go. And going there, I can but be aware, of what I will not know. Not knowing, sire, is the hardest thing that I shall never do. And that I will and will not in loyalty to you.
King:
Well and truly spoken, sir, if we do speak at all. One breath of this can mean the worst and very like the angels once, we from heaven fall.
I am childless, as you know, and I can't say how that serves. Will it do what must be done and to Denmark’s purpose serve?
Polonius:
Childless is as childless does, and you are not quite such. It's not that you feel too small or too much in parental love. You have a daughter who is true your wife and then, in truth, your queen. You have a son who's your brother, too, and that love I have seen. You are as father most a father apt in such a task, and so confusion can arise from the question that you ask.
King:
I am not fathered as you have done. Laertes is from your loins and by fortune's chance. I have not added to make such a sum. You can tell that at a glance. For it appears I'm not capable and that would seem quite blatant. I have tasted full and free of Denmark's female fruit, and for this, as king, I field no rebut but at cooking show no talent. I have not, as the English say, made some pudding come as you have done and see in your son, and so I fail this challenge.
Polonius:
If I may speak to your exhaustive plea, I think I find within that armor you have struck a chink. There may be something of the provident, and of that now I think. For thinking is as thinking does, and now this thought gives birth. You are, in fact, childless in this way, but to be—but, to be exact, perhaps it could be worse. What if you had sprouted progeny through all over your fair kingdom? Such a sea of bastards free to roam about's a ruin. Every one might declare as heir and cook up all kinds of treason. Perhaps better still you held back your skill until a better season. It maybe that providence has held your seed at bay until you find a better time to put that seed in play.
King:
What if providence should slip, and I die before my seed has blossomed into an heir? What king will come and keep you all from touching deep despair?
Polonius:
There are those who would move to elect a king, a most despised of things. As Plato spoke, we can lose all hope within the hand of politics. Not appointed by skill or grace but by slight of hand and tricks. There is no one, but you, my lord, that has any of the stature of a noble king of whom poets sing, and hold us all in rapture. When the mass can move the state, the state begins to falter. In its appearance it can last but then alas, has internally no structure. Like a pillar infested deep with worms, so ever keeping ravenous, the result is a disaster. The danger from within is great when a king should die quite heirless. If you cannot secure the throne, it would at last seem careless. As a man who cares for all, and for all is full of caring, I can see why you descry, so it almost seems despairing.
The danger from within remains and ever true 'tween nations. Each and every one insists on some other ones full rations. Old Norway you have brought to death, but young Fortinbras is growing. In the end, he will seek revenge for which he feels you're owing. He will come and take it then if he sees weakness in the throne. At long last, he’ll take Denmark then to task, and all of it will own.
King:
What do you think of the queen in this? Can she take up the thrown?
Polonius:
That's not a thing, if in press you bring, to which, in truth, I now can own. The queen's charms may bring some calm, but that is not enough alone. No woman's got, and not by a jot, enough to rule a kingdom, no matter what others do, especially in England. In Denmark we need quite a man, and a man in men in fact. We are as such an aggressive lot, a thought I'll not retract. A leader must inspire fear, as no woman can predict. The control over life is still a man's and that by divine edict. The divine must enter to a king, by His powers thus imbued. I cannot think of Eve as a one who can bare such a heavy truth. Women are a fickle lot, and we need a king's who's steady. If a queen arise, find no surprise, there are others who are ready to counter such a royal state with a claim they will make. As much as I admire her in all her female beauty, I cannot claim to give her king's name and still do for you my duty.
King:
And what do you say of Claudius, my brother at least by half. Is he enough of royal blood to take up the kingdom's staff?
Polonius:
He is a man of studious mien, and a most admired fellow. He sports a disposition calm, indeed, he seems quite mellow. But is that the nature of a king in this aggressive country? Such mellowness may not bear fruit that's always at the ready. The kingdom needs a man of active haste and not one of great leisure. Although I find him honest true, it's not always what we treasure. A king must have a shrewder head which sometimes shift the truth. If that's need the king must indeed at worst a lie to use. He has no reputation in battle but in peace. A king must raise the banner high when the dogs of war release. Will the others follow him, a man without reputation of fight, not by arms of right, but in quiet disputation? And then there is the question of a thing most troublesome. It troubles me, and I must here plea, for some other execution. To make a king of blood by half, his mother being common, will make some cause against his staff and make his reign a problem.
King:
Your address scarce leaves me breath. I must continue on in hope one seed will do its deed and make a king anon.
Polonius:
In providence then we much trust, and there is no greater hand. We speak of what's divinely made and not a thing by man. So we will pray, and come the day, the queen will thus true carry. You'll make a king, all bells will ring, and all Denmark will be merry.
King:
Until that day, you must not stay; you have tasks to which you hurry.
Polonius:
And so, me liege, now I must leave, by the grace of your dispensation. I will go now, and you will see I do so with no hesitation. I leave you with my heart felt wish for you and your peace of mind. I must go, for you do know, I'm not the dawdling kind.
(Polonius bows out backing away. King Hamlet sits and pours more wine.)
King:
Not medicine nor philosophy nor love will give me guidance. I must act alone in prudence. I see there is no help for me from counselor or advisor. Thus there is scheme that I must dream, become its true devisor.
End