Hamlet Act 5 Document

Dearest Mother,

I have recently been informed about the fencing match between Laertes and myself. Though ‘tis likely I have the skill to defeat him, the thought of death is over-bearing in my mind. In these short words I shall attempt to explain the final thoughts crashing through my brain, as a wave crashes through the ocean. I know death is inevitable. The thought alone scares a deep part of me. I once questioned, “to be or not to be?” Indeed mother, that was the question. What happens after death? “The undiscover’d country” ‘tis a scary thought. So here’s to death. I have not many regrets. I refrained from killing Claudius. I did not wish to rot alone in the deepest pit of hell. Fie on him! FIE! An untimely death…the king, my father, did not repent his sins. Asleep he was. ASLEEP! In an act of cowardice he was poisoned. Yet, thou does not wish to hear it. Mother, in my last moment, I ask you to turn away from these awful deeds. Turn away from Claudius when I shall not live on. ‘Tis hard I know, but mother thou must. Thou must know I forgive you. Thou sinned, thou did wrong…but I shall not die without saying this mother: thou can still make things right. If thou has even a moment of regret…thou must turn thine back on him. Do it for father and I, mother. My regrets are limited. I did not kill Claudius, though I regret it deeply. I regret the death of Polonius. He was mista’en for Claudius. This I regret most, for it lead to the untimely death of Ophelia. Mother, “I loved Ophelia; forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.” She was my life. I know you wished she shouldst have been my wife, and mother, I hoped it too. Her death ‘tis my fault! Fie on me! The untimely death of her father hath led her into madness. Did she commit a sin when she died? Was it truly a mistake? Mother, the thought shall haunt me forever. If there is ever a need for regret, this is’t. My dearest Ophelia ‘tis gone! My death shall be a relief after that. ‘Tis not possible to live without her. In death, maybe I shan’t have to feel such a sorrow. Death is a sweet sorrow after all. ‘Tis sad to leave all this behind…but perchance I shall see Ophelia again. Mother…the thought has crossed my mind many times. I am frightened. Not of death itself, yet of what shall follow. Shall I go to heaven? Is there a place for me? The death of Polonius was an accident, yet it resulted in the death of two. Mother, I’ll admit I sinned. ‘Tis unknown what comes next. I must accept death with open arms. ‘Tis inevitable for everyone, I suppose. Though it is quite odd knowing what is in store for me…or lack thereof. My heart is ill at ease, I know I shall die tonight, mother. What I shan’t know is where I shall go. Mother, I forgive you. Above all, know that. Thou made thine own mistakes, and I have already expressed my anger. Thou saids’t thou regrets it? Please prove it mother! I shall not die with words of hatred. ‘Tis of utter importance that thou understands I have forgiven thou. Goodbye mother. I shall miss you the most.

Love forever,
Hamlet