Queen
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
Hamlet
A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,
As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
Queen
As kill a king!
Hamlet
Ay, lady, ’twas my word.
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;
Thou find’st to be too busy is some danger.
Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,
If it be made of penetrable stuff,
If damned custom have not brass’d it so
That it be proof and bulwark against sense.
Lifts up the arras and discovers Polonius .