Kushal Gulati

Stanton 2nd
Word Study

1. Consummation: Used once in all of Hamlet. Under the context of, “bringing to
completion or to fruition.” The state of being completed. Note should be taken that
Shakespeare uses this word to signify the “achievement” of life is death, yet this word
also has the connotation of sex (to consummate a marriage is to signify it’s completion by
having sexual intercourse). Sex is usually identified with conception, or life, which is
quite the opposite from the goal of dying.

2. Contumely: abuse, a rude expression intended to offend or hurt. Usually as a result of

ill-judged pride and arrogance. Outdated. Signifies arrogance, rather than just a rude
remark in jest.

3. Quietus: Final discharge of a quittance, as from debt or obligation, that which silence
claims. Euphemism for death used by Shakespeare, as if life is taxing and an obligation,
rather than a privilege, choice, or chance.

4. Orisons: a prayer, the act of trying to spiritually connect with a deity. Derived from
Latin oration or orator, meaning one who prays for God. Goes hand in hand with calling
Ophelia a nymph, relating to a Greek goddess, more closes associated with a “deity” than
a religious reference to Jesus or such.

Act III Scene I

To be, or not to be? That is the question—
Rhetorical question and chiasmus? “to be or not to be,” seems like a
simplified parallel structure or possible a chiasmus.
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Metaphor. “Slings and arrows” as in the attacks that he receives from
luck, or rather lack there of.
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
Continues word choice, “arms,” “arrows,” “opposing,” all words linked
to a battle, or conflict greater than internal discontent.
And, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep—
Opposing continues the diction choice that create a tone of angst or loss,
Without opportunity to win against the uphill battle. “To die, to sleep, no
more” is to say there is no difference.
No more—and by a sleep to say we end
[The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to—’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished!] To die, to sleep.
Enclosed within the brackets, there starts to be a greater tone shift. With
Heartache and pain, Hamlet is slowly proving a point that death will just
Be an achievement…to finally end all the pain and suffering we
experience in the flesh. Go over word study on consummation
To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub,
Hamlet is now delving into the issue that arises from choosing death to
end all or seemingly escape all problems. “Perchance” to dream is
almost
Wistful, as if realizing death may not be as finite and wished previously.
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
“Sleep of death, dreams may come” seem to allude to Hamlet’s
Christianity that we have seen before, as if a way of describing the
afterlife. Tone shift, as above, now seems more contemplative than
depressing.
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Appearance vs. Reality. “Mortal coil” is like to say the sham that covered
us throughout our existence, to reveal our core once we are dead? There
are still things left to worry once we take away the superficiality of life…
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
After we die, do we lose the “respect” or continuous concern about all of
the hardships in life? Do we lose the constant attention paid to every
detail that made our life so long? Calamity: strong word Disaster, distr
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
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,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia!—Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.