HAMLET                                 Yet I,

A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak

Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,

And can say nothing. No, not for a king

Upon whose property and most dear life

A damned defeat was made. Am I a coward?

Who calls me villain, breaks my pate across,

Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face,

Tweaks me by the nose, gives me the lie i’th’ throat

As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this,

Ha? ’Swounds, I should take it.        (2.2.501-511)

In comparison with the player, and despite the abundant justification that I have for Making A Total Scene and Spectacle of Myself, says Hamlet, I can’t do it, and I despise myself for it. Yet I, a dull and muddy-mettled rascal—I’m so stupid, so slow; I can’t motivate myself to do anything—and I peak like John-a-dreams, drag myself around like the foolish, idle daydreamer that I am, whining and snivelling, I can say nothing; unpregnant of my cause, I can’t rouse myself to act on my grievance (or my grief); I can’t even say a word, let alone do anything. I’m such a loser… I can’t do it, no, not for a king, upon whose property and most dear life a damned defeat was made. I can’t even bring myself to avenge my father, my king, who was betrayed and murdered, whose crown was stolen, so disgracefully! I’ve got every possible reason to rant, rave, and rail—and to revenge—and I do nothing. Nothing.

Am I a coward? It’s a rhetorical question to which the answer, Hamlet fears, is YES (he dares the audience to say yes; sometimes they do). (He thinks he’s a coward, or fears he is.) So, go on, insult me. Who calls me villain—commoner, no gentleman—and gives me a crack on the head, breaks my pate across, plucks off my beard and blows it in my face (a particularly sneering insult), tweaks me by the nose (ditto, and ridiculous too), and gives me the lie i’th’ throat as deep as to the lungs? Go on, have a go, tell me I’m a liar, really mean it, tell me I have no honour? Who does me this—if you were to do this, all of these things to me (come on, try me), well, ha?! go on, come on, come on! ’Swounds! [insert expletive of your choice here] I should take it. I’d just lie down and take all of your taunts, all of your insults. I deserve it all. I’m a loser and I hate myself.