So, proceed you.

Punctuation alert! Punctuation alert! Question about this comma here. I’ve almost always heard it spoken as if there were no comma here (and probably there isn’t one in many editions.) The sense is often “continue in this manner.” I see the value of the comma – it shifts the meaning somehow – makes the “so” more of a stalling word than an instruction for how to proceed.
But once we open the Pandora’s box of punctuation (given that punctuation is free game for the editors) it could be: So – proceed you. So could be part of the text about Pyrrhus. In other words, it could be part of the line before. It could be:
“So ———–
Proceed you.
And thereby providing a moment for Hamlet to forget what comes next. It could be: So. Proceed you.
Or
So! Proceed you.
Fun with punctuation.

roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o’er-sizéd with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seeks.

This passage feels like the language version of sinking teeth into a piece of meat and letting the juice run down the chin. It is somehow crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. If you really think about what you’re eating, it can be disturbing but the pure carnivorous pleasure is ancient.

Shakespeare roasted us up this passage, the way Pyrrhus is roasted in blood (adding so many layers that he’s gone up a couple of sizes) and it is all so juicy.

Head to foot Now is he total gules, horridly tricked With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Baked and impasted with the parching streets, That lend a tyrannous and a damnéd light To their lord’s murder;

It takes a special kind of murderer to get himself completely covered in the blood of his victims, especially when his victims are entire families.
He must just hack his way through the town, severing arteries left and right. It must give him a thrill.

Perhaps bathing in your enemies’ blood is a part of the ritual of war for this guy. So much so that with the right heat and humidity, that blood bakes into a new kind of armor, hardening like clay on his skin to help protect him from the next wave of murder ahead of him.

‘The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, Black as his purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couchéd in th’ominous horse, Hath now this dread and black complexion smeared With heraldy more dismal.”

This probably isn’t the moment to mention this but why is the Trojan Horse called the TROJAN horse? It’s more like the GREEK horse when you think about it. The Greeks made it, conceived it, hid inside it and emerged from it. The only thing Trojan about it is that it ended up in (and ended) Troy. Seems a little backward.

But of course, history is told by the victors. That we call th’ominous horse a Trojan one forever associating Troy with trickery and destruction speaks to the Greek columns that hold up our culture.

It is an ominous horse, one that holds warriors and death in its womb. Pyrrhus is not the only warrior with a black purpose. They must lay couchéd in there, feeding their fury, laying fuel on the fire of bitterness and dispassion, preparing themselves to lay waste to a city – preparing for murder, yes, but also rape and sacrifice and the utter destruction of a culture.

As much as I’ve always loved this speech, I never fully understood what it was doing in this play but now, I suddenly see the parallels. Troy falls when Priam falls. And Elsinore too falls not long after its reverend King Hamlet with it. The intertwinement of King and Kingdom, the tower of Ilium falling foreshadowing the fall of the House of Hamlet.

It begins with Pyrrhus.

Pyrrhus. The rugged Pyrrhus – hero to the Greeks – villain to the Trojans. Also known as Neoptolomus. Here, clearly the villain – he is hellish, like a beast, dreaded etc.

Hamlet is interested in the Trojan perspective, it occurs to me now. In Greek stories, Pyrrhus/Neoptolomus is portrayed as a compassionate boy, who, when he kills Polyxena, kills her the nicest way possible. (Oh those Greeks, they love a good lady sacrifice!)

Here, Pyrrhus is worse than a devil but he is also the center of the story, prowling the streets in search of reverent Priam.

And perhaps we’re meant to associate Priam with the other king father in this play, the one that was also killed by a villain. I see now why Hamlet wants to hear this speech.

‘The rugged Pyrrhus, like th’Hyrcanian beast –‘ ‘Tis not so.

What part of the speech is this bit that’s not spoken by Hamlet or the Player later?
Is it what comes before?
Is Pyrrhus as Hyrcanian beast a line in another part of the play or is it the beginning of this one?
He’s got the rugged arms bit but the Hyrcanian beast bit must came from SOMEWHERE, mustn’t it?
Why is it rejected?
I mean, it adds a level of naturalism to have Hamlet mess up the beginning of the speech and I love that it references something we will never see again.

Also, what is an Hyrcanian beast?

If it live in your memory, begin at this line – let me see, let me see.

Sometimes I think I see Shakespeare the Theatre Maker shining through the words. I see the man who put on plays, who rehearsed & acted in them and spent his days at the theatre. “Begin at this line” is what calls to mind the experience of rehearsing a play. I’ve been in rehearsal myself these last few days and the numbers of times we’ve all spoken a variation on this line is surely well beyond anything else we say. There’s the “Where should we start?” version or the “Go from this line.” There’s the “From where?” and the “Let’s start at that line.” Hamlet doesn’t just want the Player to recite the speech, he wants him to go from a particular section and he knows he needs to instruct him where. Rehearsal is sometimes just a process of knowing where to begin something and where to end it (though the ending is almost never nearly as significant for rehearsals.)

‘Twas Aeneas’ tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially when he speaks of Priam’s slaughter.

That this violent bloody gory speech is spoken from one lover to another is easy to forget. If this bit of Aeneas were a real play, what would he be trying to accomplish with the telling of this epic tale? Is this a seduction? Is the man covered in blood with eyes like carbuncles meant to give Dido a little thrill? Or does it work the way a horror movie works – by scaring your lady love a little bit so she gets a little closer and wants to hold your hand?

I would love to see this play that Hamlet remembers. Is it just Dido and Aeneas or is there a greater frame around it?

One speech in’t I chiefly loved.

I chiefly love that speech too. Its language is chewy and bloody and full of muscle. It draws attention to itself as beautiful language. I love “coagulate gore” adore “roasted in wrath and fire” and the mobled queen running barefoot up and down.

It feels like Shakespeare the poet pushes his way past Shakespeare the dramatist and says, “Look what I would do if I didn’t care about action!” It’s showy and tremendous. I love it. I want to bite into it and consume it.

I also envy Hamlet’s ability to hear something once and recall it. If I were in this scene, I’d be all like, “Hey, can you say that part about the coagulate gore? It’s like, Priam, or Pyrrhus or Aeneas talking about those guys? And there’s something about a milky head? Can you do that one?”

I remember one said there were not sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affectation, but called it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine.

I have to wonder if someone once said this to Shakespeare himself. Is he quoting something he once heard from an admirer? This praise could be given to this writer’s work. I also wonder if Shakespeare had a play that was his caviary to the general. I don’t know enough about production history to know which of the plays might have bombed with the public but praised by the those with perceptive judgments in such matters. I could guess: King John? Comedy of Errors? Henry VI? But it all makes me quite curious about how Shakespeare perceived the reception of his work. Most writers I know have a play that is dear to their hearts that no one else ever quiet understood. Which play did Shakespeare hold close to his?