Claudius presents kingship as a diplomatic and deceitful business, fraught with corruption and conspiracy. Hamlet, at the start of the play, deliberately slights Claudius through his response “I shall in all my best obey you, madam”. The caesura after the personal pronoun creates suspense as the audience waits to hear to whom Hamlet is addressing. The delaying of the titular address not only creates tension but also emphasises Hamlet’s rejection of Claudius legitimacy at the start of his reign – such challenges to legitimacy were common for Elizabeth I too, being a woman and allegedly illegitimate. Yet, Claudius casually glosses over this, “’tis a loving and fair reply”, with the skill of a “seasoned diplomat” (John W. Draper). His efforts at reconciliation with Hamlet are far from “clumsy and disingenuous” as Stuart M. Kurland maintains. Furthermore, Claudius also gives Hamlet his vote to succeed him, a careful act of conciliation. Indeed, later, the diplomacy and manipulation of his kingship is revealed through his “masterful calming” (J. M. Beatty) of Laertes. Not only does Claudius pacify Laertes, but also he subtly moulds him into an ally, which he can use for disposing of Hamlet. His speech to Laertes is not only short, thus giving Laertes little time to think and mellow his vengeance, but it also uses a lexis of fire (“spark, fire, flame”) to inspire Laertes into an enflamed rage and passion. His direct question, accentuated by the dynamic infinitive “undertake”, actively forces Laertes to make a decision as to how he shall have his revenge. The short declarative response, “to cut his throat i’ the church” demonstrates how Claudius has successfully manipulate Laertes to kill Hamlet, the main threat to the harmony of Claudius’ kingdom. Indeed, Claudius’ actions are a clear reflection of Machiavellian politics; Machiavelli wrote in ‘The Prince’ (1532) that it is necessary to “disregard the approach of being thought cruel… to keep [one’s] subjects united and obedient”. Evidently, Claudius is an “excellent diplomatist” (G. Wilson Knight) with “astute resourcefulness” (Draper). Moreover, Claudius’ manipulative kingship is emphatically demonstrated through his speech and diction. Publicly, he compliments Hamlet, “’tis sweet and commendable in your nature”, yet this façade is undercut by his later barbed comment that it is “unmanly grief”. Furthermore, the short regimented clauses, regulated by the caesuras create a sense of a military order and Claudius’ attempts to gain power over Hamlet. The repetition of “fault” directed at Hamlet, is another subtle critique, emphasising Claudius’ underhanded and scheming kingship. Furthermore, the use of the infinitive “to” at the start of many of the lines is an attempt to distance himself from the death of his brother. The anaphora of this impersonal construct represents his desire to not only distance Hamlet from his father’s death, but for the whole court (including himself) to forget the old king. Lastly, Claudius cleverly manipulates his diction in his opening speech to unite the court in his favour. He states “our whole kingdom to be contracted in one brow of woe”. The use of the inclusive 1st personal plural pronoun (he also uses “us” and “we”) combined with the personification of woe represents Claudius’ devious attempts and sly tactics to unite the court in support of his reign. Yet, it would be misleading to overemphasise his “effective” (Graham Bradshaw) and “efficient” (Wilson and Brian Gibbons) leadership. He is not as “decisive” (J. M. Beatty) as is often claimed, for instance, he allows himself to be dissuaded by Polonius when he first desires to banish Hamlet – instead, Polonius successfully urges him to adopt surveillance over Hamlet. Yet, overall, the nature of Claudius’ kingship is that of diplomacy and manipulation.
Claudius’ devious and serpentine kingship is also revealed through his spying and politics of intrigue. Claudius refers to himself and Polonius as “lawful espials” reflecting his devious kingship. This is emphasised in Gregory Doran’s production, which used CCTV cameras to reflect the constant surveillance. Indeed, the political espionage could also reflect that of Elizabeth’s spymaster, Sir Francis Walsingham; further highlighting Claudius’ conniving and scheming kingship. Yet most emphatically, Claudius commits the “ultimate political sin of regicide” (Kurland) – because he transgresses the Elizabethan notion of the divine right of kings. In this way, “Claudius shows a mastery of the Machiavellian art of Realpolitik” (Bradshaw). The Ghost’s animalistic description of Claudius as a “serpent” is used as a conceit to highlight Claudius’ deceitful kingship. The biblical allusion to the snake is compounded through the shared Garden setting. This established Claudius’ crime as the Original Sin (a Christian doctrine, developed by St Augustine, which the Elizabethan audience would have been well aware of) in the play. In this way, Claudius’ sin brings about the conspiracy, chaos and corruption in the court at Elsinore – “there is something rotten in the state of Denmark”. Clearly, Claudius’ kingship is far from “good and gentle” (Knight). Yet, historical critics (Andrew Hadfield) have also emphasised the possibility that the murder of the old king refers to Bloody Mary’s part in the killing of her husband Lord Darnley (both murdered in an orchard with poison). In this way, Claudius’ debased kingship could reflect the corrupted Elizabethan court. In light of this interpretation, Polonius could represent the sycophantic courtiers (Sir Walter Raleigh is claimed to have placed his coat over a puddle to prevent the Queen’s shoes from being muddied) and Laertes attempt to become King could symbolise the many plots against Elizabeth, such as the Throckmorten and Ridolfi Plot. Ultimately, Claudius’ Machiavellian politics leads to his own downfall – he falls victim to his own “uncontrolled passion and insatiate ambition” (Beatty). Indeed, this fall is essential not only in highlighting his corrupt kingship but also in creating the “reversal of fortune” (A. C. Bradley) and the fall from “prosperity to wretchedness” (David Scott Kastan) so indicative of a Shakespearian tragedy. A. D. Nuttal states, “an audience inwardly driven by envy were to delight in the fall of one greater than they” and this is what creates the cathartic resolution (a convention of Aristotelian tragedy) and a sense of justice for Claudius’ deceptive and immoral kingship.
Lastly, the character of Fortinbras is also used to give another perspective on kingship. Fortinbras is ultimately a “military leader” (Richard Fly), which is emphasised by his military lexis (“captains, soldier, rites of war”). His semantic field of violence (“shot, bloodily, struck”) and use of monosyllabic imperatives (“take, call, go”) also acts to convey a more traditional and blunt kingship – the antithesis of Claudius’ nebulous and dastardly kingship. Thus, Fortinbras is presented as the “restoration of order” (Roland Mushat Frye) bringing catharsis and resolution to the play, continuing Hamlet’s legacy and discontinuing the political intrigue of Claudius. Yet, Fortinbras could also represent James VI of Scotland in the latter years of Elizabeth’s reign. Lillian Winstanley notes the similarities – both capitalise on an unstable and insecure kingdom, both are foreigners and both ascend to the throne peacefully. James VI, whilst not a ruthless soldier intent on invasion was reported, by accounts such as John Petit’s, to be ready to invade with his Danish (the coincidence is striking) brother-in-law who would support him with an army of 10,000 men. Both thus were seen to be “conquering heroes” (Elizabeth Prosser). Indeed, Kurland declares that the “militaristic Fortinbras is meant to represent James VI on stage”. Thus, Shakespeare uses Fortinbras to show the transformation of kingship under the new king, similar to the transformation that could happen upon James’ accession.
In conclusion, Shakespeare, in ‘Hamlet’, alludes to varying theories of kingship, such as the duplicate bodies and the divine right of kings, to demonstrate the corrupt nature of Claudius’ kingship and his Machiavellian politics. His death at the end of the play, a result of his abundant scheming, is a condemnation of his corrupt court. The resolution that Fortinbras offers is that of a strong, honest kingship to rule the Danish court in the future.