Enter GERTRUDE and POLONIUS.

POLONIUS      ’A will come straight. Look you lay home to him.

Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,

And that your grace hath screened and stood between

Much heat and him. I’ll silence me even here.

Pray you be round.

GERTRUDE     I’ll warrant you, fear me not.

Withdraw, I hear him coming.

[Polonius hides behind the arras.]    (3.4.1-6)

Closet scene, so-called! A closet isn’t a bedroom, although that has long been the tradition in performance. What matters is that this is Gertrude’s space—office, study, private sitting room, even oratory—where she is able to have a private conversation with her son. She could signal that she’s off-duty—silk pyjamas have long been favoured (but it’s not a bedroom), but heels off, drink and a cigarette are all options—or, conversely, behind the desk, trying to get to the bottom of things on her own terms.

That Polonius is going to be there, eavesdropping, has already disrupted that expectation of privacy and autonomy, but he’s in full fussy mastermind mode: ’a will come straight. He’s on his way! (Not naming Hamlet at all; Hamlet’s now mostly a problem to be dealt with, him, him, him.) And bossy too: look you lay home to him, give him what for, it’s time for straight-talking, not warm maternal concern. Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, he’s gone too far this time, crossed the line with his stupid stunts. And that your grace hath screened and stood between much heat and him; you’ve been protecting him from the consequences of his actions, from punishment, from his step-father’s—the king’s—anger. That’s got to stop! (Polonius is telling Gertrude off even as he tells her to reproach and reprimand her son.) I’ll silence me even here: I’m going to be watching and listening, right in here—the wall-hanging, a concealed door, a mirror, whatever the set provides. More on the arras later on… But his final words are admonitory: pray you be round. Tell it to him straight, no beating about the bush!

I’ll warrant you, fear me not, replies Gertrude, and there could be frustration—I know how to talk to my own son! but also anger, fear; absolutely I’m going to give him a piece of my mind, don’t you worry about that. Withdraw, I hear him coming—Hamlet might be whistling or singing, or it’s just assumed that she’s heard something—and so Polonius hides, to listen and watch unseen, and Gertrude prepares to confront her son.