Original: O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
Modern: Oh, my sin is so foul it stinks all the way up to heaven;

Original: It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t,
Modern: It carries the oldest curse in history,

Original: A brother’s murther! Pray can I not,
Modern: The murder of my brother! I cannot pray,

Original: Though inclination be as sharp as will.
Modern: Even though I want to as badly as I’m trying to.

Original: My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,
Modern: My overwhelming guilt overpowers my strong desire to repent,

Original: And, like a man to double business bound,
Modern: And like a person torn between two urgent tasks,

Original: I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
Modern: I stand frozen, not knowing which one to start with,

Original: And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
Modern: And end up doing neither. What if this damned hand

Original: Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood,
Modern: Were covered thick with my brother’s blood—

Original: Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
Modern: Isn’t there enough rain in the merciful heavens

Original: To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
Modern: To wash it clean as snow? What purpose does mercy serve

Original: But to confront the visage of offence?
Modern: Except to face our sins directly?

Original: And what’s in prayer but this twofold force,
Modern: And what power does prayer have except these two things:

Original: To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
Modern: To prevent us from sinning in the first place,

Original: Or pardon’d being down? Then I’ll look up;
Modern: Or to forgive us after we’ve fallen? So I’ll look up to God;

Original: My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
Modern: My sin is already done. But oh, what kind of prayer

Original: Can serve my turn? ‘Forgive me my foul murther’?
Modern: Can help me now? “Forgive me for my horrible murder”?

Original: That cannot be; since I am still possess’d
Modern: That won’t work, since I still possess

Original: Of those effects for which I did the murther-
Modern: All the things I gained by committing the murder—

Original: My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
Modern: My crown, my personal ambition, and my queen.

Original: May one be pardon’d and retain th’ offence?
Modern: Can someone be forgiven while still keeping the benefits of their crime?

Original: In the corrupted currents of this world
Modern: In the corrupt ways of this world,

Original: Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice,
Modern: A criminal’s golden bribes can push justice aside,

Original: And oft ‘tis seen the wicked prize itself
Modern: And we often see that ill-gotten gains themselves

Original: Buys out the law; but ‘tis not so above.
Modern: Can buy off the law; but it doesn’t work that way in heaven.

Original: There is no shuffling; there the action lies
Modern: There’s no trickery there; there our deeds appear

Original: In his true nature, and we ourselves compell’d,
Modern: In their true form, and we ourselves are forced,

Original: Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
Modern: Right to the face of our sins,

Original: To give in evidence. What then? What rests?
Modern: To testify against ourselves. So what now? What’s left?

Original: Try what repentance can. What can it not?
Modern: Let me try what repentance can do. What can’t it accomplish?

Original: Yet what can it when one cannot repent?
Modern: But what good is it when someone cannot truly repent?

Original: O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
Modern: Oh, what a miserable condition! Oh, heart as black as death!

Original: O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,
Modern: Oh, trapped soul that, struggling to break free,

Original: Art more engag’d! Help, angels! Make assay.
Modern: Only gets more stuck! Help me, angels! Let me try.

Original: Bow, stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel,
Modern: Kneel down, you stubborn knees; and heart made of steel,

Original: Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
Modern: Become as soft as a newborn baby’s muscles!

Original: All may be well.
Modern: Everything might turn out all right.

In Act III, Scene 3 of Hamlet, King Claudius is alone in his chamber attempting to pray for forgiveness for the murder of his brother, Hamlet’s father. The king kneels and struggles with his guilt, acknowledging his crime and the corruption it has brought, but finding himself unable to truly repent because he still possesses the fruits of his sin - the crown, the queen, and his ambition. He recognizes that his prayer is hollow because he cannot give up what he gained through murder, and he remains tormented by his inability to achieve genuine repentance.

Hamlet enters and discovers Claudius in this vulnerable position of prayer. Drawing his sword, Hamlet has the perfect opportunity to kill his uncle and fulfill the ghost’s command for revenge. However, he hesitates, reasoning that killing Claudius while he appears to be praying would send the king’s soul to heaven, which would be too merciful a fate for a murderer. Hamlet decides to wait for a moment when Claudius is engaged in sinful activity, ensuring the king’s damnation. After Hamlet exits, Claudius rises and reveals that his prayers were ineffectual, stating “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.”

Hamlet tells the story of Prince Hamlet of Denmark, who is visited by the ghost of his recently deceased father. The ghost reveals that he was murdered by Hamlet’s uncle Claudius, who has now married Hamlet’s mother Gertrude and assumed the throne. Commanded by his father’s spirit to seek revenge, Hamlet struggles with doubt, melancholy, and the moral complexity of his task. To investigate the ghost’s claims and plan his revenge, he feigns madness, which creates tension throughout the Danish court.

As Hamlet deliberates, his erratic behavior affects everyone around him, particularly his love interest Ophelia, daughter of the king’s advisor Polonius. To test Claudius’s guilt, Hamlet stages a play mirroring his father’s murder, which confirms the king’s culpability. However, Hamlet’s actions become increasingly destructive—he accidentally kills Polonius while the old man spies on him, and his rejection of Ophelia contributes to her descent into genuine madness and eventual drowning.

The play reaches its climax when Ophelia’s brother Laertes returns to avenge his father’s death. Claudius manipulates Laertes into challenging Hamlet to a duel, secretly poisoning Laertes’s sword and preparing poisoned wine as backup. The final scene erupts in tragedy: during the duel, both Hamlet and Laertes are wounded by the poisoned blade, Gertrude accidentally drinks the poisoned wine, and Hamlet finally kills Claudius. As Hamlet dies, he names Prince Fortinbras of Norway as Denmark’s next ruler, bringing the cycle of revenge and political instability to a close. The play ends with Fortinbras restoring order to the Danish court as bodies are carried off in a funeral march.