The play was the thing wherein I caught the conscience of the king -- that means I knew he was guilty. San: Even if he was guilty, what did killing him serve? All there was left was a court in total disarray and a lot of dead bodies. You say your revenge had a purpose, but it didn't really. Revenge is only undertaken for personal motives -- being drunk and angry because you think someone took your sister's virginity, for instance. It has nothing to do with anything loftier. Indeed, it is this very perspective which produces the type of collective bloodlust that would seize my life. You have made yourself an executioner, perhaps as mad with assurance of his deeds as were those first committed some wrong.

Ham: That's not true! There was a method to my madness....

I needed to make a point -- a very long point -- to the rest of the world that the type of treacherous and traitorous behavior practiced by my uncle wouldn't stand. Mine would be the hand of justice.
San: But look at the fallout! Your mother: dead. Your girlfriend: drowned in a stream. Her father: stabbed behind a curtain. Her brother: dead. You: dead. The death could have ended with your father. Instead, your own need for revenge pushed everything to further destruction and death. And you have justified it with the steely certainty that is perhaps to be left only to the almighty creator. I see the sense of rationalization in you, just as I saw this sense in the woman who falsely accused me, the brothers who carried out the justice of her supposed honor and the