“Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief,” said Hamlet.
“Belike this show imports the argument of the play,” said Ophelia, which indeed proved to be the case.
Now the real players came on, who had to speak, and the action followed the same lines as the dumb show, the player Queen pouring forth boundless expressions of devotion to her husband.
“Madam, how like you this play?” asked Hamlet presently, when a pause occurred.
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” said the Queen.
“Oh, but she’ll keep her word,” said Hamlet, with biting sarcasm.
“Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in it?” asked the King uneasily.
“No, no; they do but jest—poison in jest; no offence in the world,” returned Hamlet, looking at him with strange malice in his eyes.
The King winced, but tried to appear unconcerned.
“What do you call the play?”