HAMLET                     Hum, I have heard

That guilty creatures sitting at a play

Have by the very cunning of the scene

Been struck so to the soul that presently

They have proclaimed their malefactions.

For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak

With most miraculous organ. I’ll have these players

Play something like the murder of my father

Before mine uncle. I’ll observe his looks,

I’ll tent him to the quick. If ’a do blench

I know my course.     (2.2.523-533)

Hmmm. Hmmmm. So, a thought. I have heard that guilty creatures (meaning people; slightly pejorative?) sitting at a play have by the very cunning of the scene—its cleverness, its skilful presentation—been struck so to the soul that presently they have proclaimed their malefactions. They see the play and they’re stricken with guilt, to the extent that, right there, they confess! they out themselves as having committed terrible crimes, terrible sins! For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak with most miraculous organ. Murder will out, it will always be discovered, even by strange and indirect means. So. I have a plan! A cunning plan! I’ll have these players play something like the murder of my father before mine uncle. The play, The Murder of Gonzago, it’s near enough, especially with the extra bit I’m off to write now! He’ll have to watch it—and I’ll be watching him, like a hawk. I’ll observe his looks, his expression and reactions, I’ll tent him to the quick. I’ll probe him, as if I were searching a wound, draining an abscess; I’ll put him on the spot, get to the heart of the matter, the bottom of things. If ’a do blench—if he goes pale, or looks startled—I know my course. That’s confirmation, evidence enough—and I know what I’ll do then. Finally, the prospect of action, of doing something, rather than just reacting, talking, talking, thinking, thinking.