CLAUDIUS      O Gertrude, come away.

The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch

But we will ship him hence, and this vile deed

We must with all our majesty and skill

Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Friends both, go join you with some further aid:

Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain

And from his mother’s closet hath he dragged him.

Go seek him out, speak fair and bring the body

Into the chapel. I pray you haste in this.

[Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]      (4.1.28-37)

O Gertrude, come away. Real concern, perhaps: let’s get you out of here, you poor love. But also taking charge, very much putting his own plan into action—and not reacting to Gertrude’s plea that Hamlet didn’t mean to kill Polonius, that he’s not in his right mind. The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch—so it’s still the middle of the night, the action since the performance of The Murder of Gonzago (which seems another life, another play) has been continuous, pretty much—but we will ship him hence. As soon as it’s light, Hamlet’s off to England, no more second chances. (Hamlet’s a dangerous package that has to be disposed of, at this point.) And, as has become apparent, Claudius is a wily and skilful politician, who doesn’t only act out of immediate self-interest; he thinks ahead. This vile deed we must with all our majesty and skill both countenance and excuse. I’ve got to manage the consequences of Polonius’s death—murder—which might include signalling that I’m still in control, that I’m not responsible for Hamlet’s actions—and also dealing with whatever Laertes decides to do when he hears about it. It’s all about the damage control, reputation management, reassuring people that there’s no risk to the wider population.

Ho, Guildenstern! Get in here! (And the speed with which they appear is important: have they been listening at the door? They could be reluctant—they really didn’t sign up for this—or still anxious to do anything possible to try to get back in Claudius’s good books. Perhaps they’re no longer acting as a unit, responding with visible difference to the summons.) Friends both—emollient, but not reassuring, in the circumstances—go join you with some further aid. Find some actual competent grown-ups—soldiers, guards, some of the security detail. Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain—so that’s still the official story; Gertrude can dart a look—and from his mother’s closet hath he dragged him. He’s taken the body—somewhere. Go seek him out, speak fair and bring the body into the chapel. Find him, try not to panic him, calmly does it, and get the body. Let’s see if we can contain this, get the narrative at least under control. They can goggle at him, aghast: murder? a body? I pray you haste in this. Hurry! Get on with it! Just do as you’re told!