Give me the cups.

First he wants the wine on the table. Now he wants to be given it.

Is this so he has a prop to refer to as he gives a speech about the pearl?  (Union. Onion.)

So first he needs them close but then he needs them delivered to his hands.

Is one of the pleasures of being a king ordering people to do tiny things that you definitely could have done yourself?

It’s that and/or an extra bit of ceremony. He’s certainly adding several layers of ceremony with those cannons and such. Perhaps there’s also something in how the cups are delivered to his hands – some kind of ritual or blessing or gesture.

And in the cup an union shall he throw, Richer than that which for successive kings In Denmark’s crown have worn.

The only reason I knew a union was a pearl was that every Claudius ever holds up a pearl at this point to demonstrate. But I just looked it up because I was wondering if union was somehow a metaphorical pearl or jewel. What I learned was that union is connected to onion. Its sense as a pearl is connected to its onion-ness. Etymology on-line defines it as a pearl or onion. As if the two were essentially the same. And now I’m very confused – because we do, in fact, have pearl onions – which are usually the ones that go into cocktails. There is circularity to this. Here is Claudius calling a pearl a union, which for a time was the same word as an onion. He puts it in a drink, like it’s a cocktail onion, not a precious jewel. I mean, who wants a pearl in their drink? Seems dangerously easy to swallow.

An onion though – adds flavor. Is Claudius putting an onion in the drink? No. It’s definitely a little ball of poison – either disguised as a pearl or glazed in the killer stuff. But wow. Union. Onion. It’s so obvious when you look at it – but before? I’d not have seen these words as connected in any way.

The king shall drink to Hamlet’s better breath.

To drink to Hamlet’s better breath is to drink to something slightly ambigious. On one hand, it could suggest that Hamlet’s breath, his power, his life, his vigor is better than Laertes! However, it could also suggest that Hamlet’s breath needs to be better, that it could use improvement, that it needs support.

And underlying all of it is the knowledge that Claudius wants to STOP Hamlet’s breath, to end his life.

Is there breath in the after life? Do angel’s have breath? If so, it is probably better than earthly breath – so drinking to better breath might be drinking to a kind of a heavenly one.

If Hamlet give the first or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:

These are some complicated rules. Hamlet’s gotta get a hit in quickly in order to score, sure, that makes sense. And if he does, Claudius is going to celebrate big time. I mean – cannons? That’s a rather big reaction to a small tap with a sword. The quitting in answer of the third exchange is a little harder to make sense of. So basically – if Hamlet doesn’t get the first or second point, he can make up for it in the third round.

But what I’m not entirely clear on is HOW he does that in round three.
Part of the problem is that it’s not entirely clear what the word “quit” is doing here. It’s definitely not being used the way we use it today. Claudius is not going to sound the cannons if Hamlet gives up in round three.

Quit here is likely much more connected to acquit – and most likely to the idea of acquitting oneself.

So, practically, if he’s caught up to Laertes by round three, the king will still sound the cannons.

Claudius really wants to shoot off those cannons. And by shooting off the cannons, I mean he wants to put that poison pearl in Hamlet’s wine and kill him. So…the game is rigged so that Hamlet will have to win it in some way or another so he can get killed.

But really – aren’t the cannons on the battlements a little bit extra, as the kids would say?

Set me the stoups of wine upon that table.

It’s funny to see something that I associated with Sir Toby Belch in the mouth of King Claudius. Weirdly, I feel like I was equally exposed to these two plays – as they were the ones I performed in rep at my first job out of college. But if I had to match a phrase to a character, a stoup of wine would go direct to Toby Belch and miss Claudius entirely. It’s not necessarily a sign of character, this “stoup” business. It’s pretty much just a cup. Well, it’s a big cup. It’s a tankard. Which does feel like a Toby Belch thing. Though, if Hamlet’s perspective is accurate – Claudius does have a bit of Toby in him. He does seem to have brought back some intense drinking rituals to Elsinore – so his calling for stoups, as opposed to a glass or a cup or a dram, may indeed be a sign of character.

Are there any characters who refer to stoups of wine that aren’t big drinkers?

Ay, my good lord.

Osric is a classic yes man.

If Hamlet wanted an honest answer to this question, he could not be sure with a question like this. If Osric can answer “yes” he will.
“Are they all the same length? “ “Yes!” “Are these swords all different lengths?” “Yes!”

You’d have to ask “What are the lengths of these swords?” to get something besides yes.

One of things I learned from teaching is what kinds of questions are fruitful and which are dead ends. Questions that lead to Yes or No are not very useful in that, aside from motivations to agree or disagree with the asker, they tend to stop the conversation.

“Is Osric complicit in this plot?” is not as productive a question as “How might Osric be complicit in this plot?”

Then you get some goods. And then you can ask its opposite, “In what ways might Osric be innocent?”

These foils have all a length?

Is their length the key bit of info here?
I mean – I’d think you’d want a different length depending on how tall or short you are. If you’re really small, a long foil is a liability. It would be harder to control, I think.

But then, I am not a sword fighter. I have done some sword fighting, though and I KNOW I would not like to have a particularly long sword. You can hit from farther away, sure – but you’ll lose a measure of control, the farther away from your center of gravity the center of the sword’s gravity is.

This likes me well.

I like the slight anthropomorphihization of the sword. Here it is with the ability to LIKE Hamlet, I mean who wouldn’t? What self-respecting sword wouldn’t nestle itself happily in the grip of Hamlet’s hand?

“I like Hamlet!” it says as it makes itself at home in his hand. “I always dreamed that it would be Hamlet that would choose me and here I am, the luckiest sword on the sword table!”

“Gee whiz, I am one lucky sword. What a good day. Hamlet is the best guy. What a Prince. Literally! Get it? He’s the Prince of Denmark and also a prince of a man. I mean. He is the best. Best guy. Gosh, I like this guy. Such a guy. Lucky sword with the best guy.”

This is too heavy, let me see another.

So many Laerteses will broadcast their villainy to the rafters in this moment. They may as well give an evil laugh and wiggle their fingers, it is so obvious that they are up to no good. (Sidebar: two adorable children gave me a tutorial on how to be a “mean guy” a couple of days ago. It involved smiling maniacally and wiggling my fingers.) But it is rather a practical problem that Laertes has here. He has sharpened and poisoned only one sword and if the sword hander-outer hands him NOT that sword, then all his plans of murder are spoiled. In fact, if, by chance, the hander-outer hands Hamlet the sharp poisoned sword, he’ll be in trouble. (I mean, he gets hit with it anyway – but that’s a problem for later.)

Given that Osric is handing out the swords, one might start to wonder if he’s in on it. If he IS in on it, then this bit about the heavy sword is all performance. It would suggest that they’ve thought to make a little production of choosing the poisoned sword accidentally.

If Osric ISN’T in on it, Laertes has to work out how to get the sword he needs for the killing job. He probably has to point to the one he wants while he distracts everyone.

But since he is better’d, we have therefore odds.

What a curious sentence! It sort of rounds on itself, with since and therefore pretty much doing the same job. There’s something kind of clunky about it, in a way that is unusual for Claudius.

The deal of this wager is very curious. This Laertes having to get more points to beat Hamlet than Hamlet will have to get to beat Laertes business is very curious.

It’s like making it clear to everyone that this game has been rigged.

And it has, in fact, been rigged.

It’s been rigged to get Hamlet killed, several ways.

But the appearance is that the game is rigged for Hamlet, rather than against him.

I cannot help but think of how 45 kept proclaiming the election was rigged against him while it was, in fact, in the process of being rigged in his favor.