Hamlet

We’ll hurry.

My lord, Hamlet’s going to his mother’s room. I’ll hide behind the tapestry to hear what they say. I bet she’ll chew him out. And as you said (and you said it wisely), it’s good to have someone other than a mother listening in on them, since she can be too partial to him. Goodbye, my lord. I’ll stop by before you go to bed, and tell you what I’ve heard.

Thanks, my dear lord.

Oh, my crime is so rotten it stinks all the way to heaven. It has the mark of

Cain

In the Bible, Cain was the first murderer, killing his brother in Genesis 4:10-12.

Cain on it, a brother’s murder. I can’t pray, though I want to desperately. My guilt is stronger even than my intentions. And like a person with two opposite things to do at once, I stand paralyzed and neglect them both. So what if this cursed hand of mine is coated with my brother’s blood? Isn’t there enough rain in heaven to wash it clean as snow? Isn’t that what God’s mercy is for? And doesn’t prayer serve these two purposes—to keep us from sinning and to bring us forgiveness when we have sinned? So I’ll pray. I’ve already committed my sin. But, oh, what kind of prayer is there for me? “Dear Lord, forgive me for my horrible murder”?