How is it, my lord?

It’s funny that this inquiry into Hamlet’s wound or his health or wellbeing or whatever “it” is here – is the same words as an inquiry into what someone might be eating.

Like, it would be funny if somehow Hamlet just started chomping down on an apple or whatever and Horatio asked him how it is.

“Well, Horatio – it’s a little bit tart and a little bit sweet. It’s kind of a perfect apple, don’t you know. You want a bite?”

But no. Instead – it’s an inquiry that’s will eventually lead to a death. Not quite like a tasty apple.

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