Flourish. Enter KING and QUEEN, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern [and other Courtiers]

KING   Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Moreover that we much did long to see you

The need we have to use you did provoke

Our hasty sending. Something have you heard

Of Hamlet’s transformation – so call it

Sith nor th’exterior nor the inward man

Resembles that it was. What it should be

More than his father’s death, that thus hath put him

So much from th’understanding of himself

I cannot dream of.     (2.2.1-10)

Another court scene, the first appearance for Claudius and Gertrude since the play’s second scene. Fanfare; not a procession as such, but certainly a formal entrance (although in modern dress a different idiom might be needed). There are attendants, flunkies, maybe security. What matters is that it’s signalled that this is an audience of some kind, it’s not informal—but also, these aren’t ambassadors, this isn’t state business, quite, as will become apparent. Much hangs on how Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are being played: smooth, sophisticated posh boys, Hamlet’s old school friends from Denmark, now also in Wittenberg, perhaps not now as close to him as Horatio is? Or new mates from university, drinking buddies, the people he wastes time with? Stoner mates have been a popular choice in some recent productions, as has making one of them a woman.

Whatever: welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. (Some in a late twentieth-century audience silently supply: ‘are dead’.) Polite, but a bit meaningless—these aren’t Claudius’s friends—and he gets straight to business. Moreover that we much did long to see you (this is just courtesy; he barely knew who they were before Gertrude or some other official—Polonius?—suggested getting in touch) the need we have to use you did provoke our hasty sending. Of course it’s lovely to have you here, guys, a delight to see you—but really, there’s this urgent thing we need you for, that’s why we asked you to come in such a hurry. Something have you heard of Hamlet’s transformation—you’ve heard, or at least you’ve been briefed? (They can look warily at each other before confirming with a nod, a glance.) So call it—he puts scare quotes around ‘transformation’, in effect, it’s clear that this is a delicate euphemism—sith nor th’exterior nor the inward man resembles that it was. We have to call it a transformation, because he’s dressing strangely and acting oddly and doesn’t seem himself. He’s changed, gone all weird. You’ll see. And what it should be, more than his father’s death—the cause of it, beyond that—that thus hath put him so much from th’understanding of himself I cannot dream of. Gertrude can be there, nodding along, looking hopeful, eager, a bit desperate, this was the big idea, getting Rosencrantz and Guildenstern here. We just can’t work out what’s brought this on, this—breakdown.