CLAUDIUS                  O my dear Gertrude, this,

Like to a murdering-piece in many places

Gives me superfluous death. (A noise within)

Enter a Messenger.

Attend!

Where is my Switzers? Let them guard the door.

What is the matter?   (4.5.94-98)

Claudius is barely remaining in control of himself, and again he turns to Gertrude with a vivid conceit: O my dear Gertrude, this, like to a murdering-piece in many places gives me superfluous death. Any one of these things would be enough to finish me, but together, all this bad news, all these crises, it’s like being shot in many places all at once, kicked when I’m already down, complete overkill. (A murdering-piece is a cannon that delivers multiple shots in one go.) And then, suddenly, a noise within—voices raised in anger, shouting, banging, even shots, getting closer?—and then a messenger arriving, maybe bursting in, panicked, dishevelled; perhaps a soldier, or perhaps a palace functionary, out of their depth. This makes things even worse, and Claudius calls for help, for guards, security especially: attend! code red! get in here! But where is my Switzers? Like the Pope, Claudius has Swiss mercenaries as his personal bodyguards; if they’re not in action already, or if they’re not there, then things are really bad. Claudius wants to be in visual contact with them, and for them to step up and guard the door—none of this ceremonial standing guard—and he perhaps wants reassurance that they’re still on his payroll, that they haven’t been bought off. Where are they? But also, what is the matter? What’s all this racket, what’s all the noise? The messenger is catching their breath, holding up a hand: let me speak!