Extra Credit: Claudius Blog Post #5

"Haunted"

You and I walk a fragile line
I have known it all this time
but I never thought I'd live to see it break
It's getting dark and it's all too quiet
And I can't trust anything now
And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake

Oh, I'm holding my breath
Won't lose you again
something's made your eyes go cold

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Something's gone terribly wrong
You're all I wanted
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Can't breathe whenever you're gone
Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

Stood there and watched you walk away
From everything we had
But I still mean every word I said to you
He would try to take away my pain
And he just might make me smile
But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead

Oh, I'm holding my breath
Won't see you again
something keeps me holding on to nothing

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Something's gone terribly wrong
You're all I wanted
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Can't breathe whenever you're gone
Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

I know, I know, I just know
You're not gone. You can't be gone. No.

Oh

You and I walk a fragile line
I have known it all this time
Never ever thought I'd see it break.
Never thought I'd see it...

This song echoes my thoughts… “You're not gone. You can't be gone” (Swift). After Polonius’ disgusting death, this news followed, “One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, / So fast they follow: your sister’s drown’d Laertes” (4.7.161-162). I could not believe it; they could not both be gone so soon! Little did I know the bloodshed that was to follow: I could feel Laertes brewing up a scheme that would result in at least one more death, the death of my own son.

I went through desperate measures and circumstances to inherit and rule this kingdom. I told lies, sent spies, stole wives – “but I never thought I'd live to see it break” (Swift). I never thought I would be held accountable for my actions. Here I am on my deathbed. “Then, venom, to thy work” (5.2.286). Ahh, the bitter taste of poison infiltrating royalty. “Here, thou incestuous, murd’rous, damned Dane, / Drink off this potion. Is thy union here? / Follow my mother” (5.2.289-291). Hamlet was stronger than I expected, unyielding in his wrath and quest to kill me,  successful in finding a means to an end for my life.

I could have been dead so much earlier. Indeed, “You [Hamlet] and I walk a fragile line” (Swift). “Now might I do it pat, now he is praying; / And now I’ll do’t. And so ‘a goes to heaven; / And so am I reveng’d. That would be scann’d” (3.3.73-75). Hamlet had me in his grasp, yet spared my life. Might it be God’s grace that I saw another day? It was all because of my reaction during the play that he knew of my guilt. “A poisons him I’ the garden for his estate. His name’s Gonzago: the story is / extant, and written in very close Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer / gets the love of Gonzago’s wife” (3.2.223-225). – I noticed how he tried to target me in the little act of his! Yet I stood up! I had been caught in my act. And surely enough, I was caught again soon after. “You were sent for; and there is a kind of / confession in your looks which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: / I know the good king and queen have sent for you” (3.2.259-260). Why, oh why, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern... Can you not be a little more unnoticeable?

“And I can't trust anything now” (Swift). That seems to be a common theme… I will admit, I sent spies “To draw him [Hamlet] on to pleasures, and to gather, / so much as from occasion you may glean (2.2.15-16). I’m not the only one who had trouble trusting my children though. Look at Polonius; he overprotected both Laertes and Ophelia. “I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, / Have you so slander any moment leisure, / As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet” (1.3.132-134). Polonius would not even let his beloved daughter experience the highs and lows of young love… See? I am nowhere near as guilty for my actions as Polonius.

“Can't turn back now, I'm haunted” (Swift) No doubt, I am haunted by the ghost of Hamlet senior, the man I killed to replace. This ghost turned Hamlet against me! My saddened son changed from distraught to rebellious; curse his father’s ghost! First, his father tells Hamlet about my secret crimes, “Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, / With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts…” (1.5.42-43). He doesn’t just leave here, but comes back to check in on Hamlet when he became distracted. “Do not forget: this visitation / Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose (3.6.110-111). This ghost wanted me dead, and dead I am, unable to haunt as my predecessor did.

I remember the final dual between Laertes and Hamlet. My foolproof plan, poisoning Hamlet in two separate ways, by sword or by cup, completely backfired. “I thought I had you figured out / Something's gone terribly wrong” (Swift). My wife, Gertrude, got her little hands on the poisoned concoction. Even after I told her not to drink, she responded with, “I will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me” (5.2.255). Within two minutes, she was gone, cold as the stone on the castle floor.

“You're all I wanted” (Swift). By “you’re”, I mean both Gertrude and Denmark. I was too greedy, too ambitious, and too careless. If I had taken eradicated Hamlet in the first place, none of this bloodshed would have taken place. I live a death of regret, regret for what could have and should have been. A tragedy. Truly, “something is rotten in the state of Denmark” (1.4.90). Shame on me, shame on me.