“No hat upon his head, his stockings foul’d,
Ungarter’d and down-gyved to his ancle;
Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
And with a look so piteous in purport
As if he had been loosed out of hell
To speak of horrors.”[174:1]
His attitude and his words seem to confirm the judgment of Polonius: “This is the very ecstasy of love.”[174:2] He is caught in no trap. The presence of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern does not suffice to
“Get from him why he puts on this confusion
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy.”[174:3]