Eugène Delacroix (undated): Act II, scene 2 – Hamlet and Polonius.
Act II, Scene 2 (Hamlet and Polonius).
Hamlet and Polonius: a non-relationship if there ever was one. And yet, Polonius probably was Counsellor to Hamlet's father for years, maybe for decades, before the former King was prematurely by a brother's hand of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd. So shouldn't there be a way for these two to find together? What happened – what has gone wrong there?
Well, one thing that has happened, of course, is Claudius, who doubtlessly lost no time going to work on Polonius almost as quickly as on Gertrude, reasoning that he needs the support of his brother's "assistant for a state" about as much as the latter needs him in those unstable days and weeks following the former King's death. Thus, Polonius was probably drawn pretty far into Claudius's corner before Hamlet had even returned from Wittenberg; which the Prince can't have failed to notice, and which may not even have surprised him all that much, given Polonius's officiousness, and his weakness for flattery and eagerness to please – the very attributes Hamlet despises most in others, and the very weaknesses Claudius is most apt to exploit. Indeed, we never once see Hamlet and Polonius interact directly in the play's entire first act: even before this particular scene, and before Hamlet's intrusion into Ophelia's bedchamber – literally under her father's nose – Shakespeare thus tells us that these two simply have nothing to say to each other. And of course it doesn't help one bit that Polonius prohibits his daughter to see the Prince, and that an exasperated Hamlet, in turn, has nothing better to do than to break the penultimate boundaries, scare the girl witless, rob her of all romantic illusions forever after, and make her father fear (at least momentarily) an even greater transgression when he ultimately learns about it. Thus, when we at last do see Polonius approach the Prince, it comes as no surprise that he does so with a predisposition rendering him patently unfit for an honest exchange; and of course Hamlet, who after all is only feigning madness, is well aware that mere seconds earlier, the Counsellor has been huddling with Claudius and Gertrude. After that, not even the most neutral opening can do Polonius any good:
How does my good Lord Hamlet?
Well, God-a-mercy.
Do you know me, my lord?
Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
First he is slighted almost as badly as Claudius when first addressing Hamlet after the announcement of his and Gertrude's wedding (and even with a hint of brogue!), and when he is unwise enough not to just swallow that affront, he opens the door even wider to the "daggers" of Hamlet's tongue, which now land one merciless blow after the other. (Nice bit of stage setting, by the way, in Grigori Kosintzev's movie, where this scene takes place outside, near the ocean ... "fishmonger" indeed!)
Not I, my lord.
Then I would you were so honest a man.
Georges de La Tour: The Old Man (ca. 1625-1627, The Fine Art Museum, San Francisco, California, USA)
Honest, my lord?
Ay, sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man
pick'd out of ten thousand.
That's very true, my lord.
Indeed, during this first part of their exchange Hamlet makes full use of the guise of madness to leave Polonius (and us) in little doubt about his opinion of the Counsellor, and people like him ...
For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god
kissing carrion – Have you a daughter?
I have, my lord.
Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a blessing, but not
as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't.
How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter.
... as well as, to Polonius's considerable worry, the Counsellor's fair daughter. Considering that Hamlet's intrusion into Ophelia's bedchamber immediately preceded (and in large part prompted) this particular exchange, I imagine that these comments hit home especially hard.
Yet
he knew me not at first. He said I was a fishmonger. He is far
gone, far gone! And truly in my youth I suff'red much extremity
for love – very near this. I'll speak to him again. –
Still, the venerable Counsellor is only too happy to find his pet theory on the cause of Hamlet's madness seemingly confirmed so quickly – and in a way you just gotta love his excursion into fatherly compassion. (Would that it were real, and would that he were able to rise to such feelings for his own daughter, too!) Of course this doesn't do him any good at all, either ... on the contrary, Hamlet is just getting going.
What do you
read, my lord?
Words, words, words.
What is the matter, my lord?
Between who?
I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here that old men
have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes
purging thick amber and plum-tree gum; and that they have a
plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams. All which,
sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it
not honesty to have it thus set down; for you yourself, sir,
should be old as I am if, like a crab, you could go backward.
Not an express stage direction, but the barely concealed suggestion of one, methinks – and to see just how much fun you can have with this part of the scene, watch the movie by Franco Zeffirelli; of my five favourite screen adaptations, it uses the Bard's material in the most creative way by far here.
Though this be madness, yet there is a method in't. –
Will You walk out of the air, my lord?
Into my grave?
Indeed, that is out o' th' air.
How pregnant sometimes
his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which
reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of.
Now even Polonius can no longer overlook that something else just might be at play, too – and he is alarmed; both by the fact that he doesn't know what exactly to make of the Prince's remarks, and by the interpretative possibilities they open up.
I will leave him and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between
him and my daughter. – My honourable lord, I will most humbly take
my leave of you.
Ultimately he can't think of anything other than a tactical retreat (after having been physically forced into reverse gear already a moment earlier) ...
You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more
willingly part withal – except my life, except my life, except my
life.
... but even this is turned against him; albeit, I think, with a growing note of dead-seriousness. But are these last words spoken to Polonius (or to him alone, anyway)? Or to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who are on the point of re-entering now? I doubt it: Hamlet clearly means what he is saying here; and yet, I can't imagine he would show this kind of vulnerability in the old Counsellor's presence alone. On the other hand, the manner of his subsequent greeting of his two newly-arrived schoolfellows indicates that he has only just become aware of them; so he can't be addressing them, either. Which leaves ... whom exactly? Us, the audience, of course. But anybody else; somebdy Shakespeare doesn't expressly mention, maybe? I wonder ...
Fare you well, my lord.
These tedious old fools!
And again: As little as Hamlet has deigned Polonius worthy of a reply to his greeting, as little he deigns him worthy of a goodbye. But while our Prince is clearly letting fly a piece of most unflattering and honest opinion here, is he just talking to himself – do we, as it were, have to imagine "aside" as a tacitly added stage direction? For that matter, is this truly Hamlet's last word on Polonius? I somehow don't think so: to me his remarks upon discovering that he has killed the Counsellor instead of the King whom he had supposed behind that arras in his mother's bedchamber seem to indicate a good deal of true regret; and not merely regret over having killed the wrong man. Ultimately, I think Hamlet does underestimate Polonius, who is decidedly more than an officious busybody (although that, too, of course) and more than a "tedious old fool." Yet, although the Prince clearly has little genuine sympathy for him, and although Polonius's actions give him precious little reason to change his mind, Hamlet and his father's former Counsellor are never as great and irreversible antagonists as the Prince and Claudius. Which only makes their inability to communicate an even greater misfortune ...
Copyright 2002 – 2009: Ulrike Böhm, all rights reserved.
