This is an interesting reveal –
We (the audience) know what Hamlet doesn’t trust Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, he’s let us know in previous scenes – but this is not a truth he’s shared with Gertrude before now. It’s like he’s turned some truth corner or a trust corner – and his former attempt to play the game just falls away. It’s like – at some point in this scene – he just decides to start trusting his mom. And it would appear to be when she tells him she has no breath to tell anyone anything. That would appear to be all he needed to stop scolding and start laying down some truth.

Punctuation questions again. I feel like when I hear/see this performed it is almost always spoken with a period. I’d need to do a more thorough edition comparison – but it may well be an editorial choice to make this a real question.

The difference in meaning would be significant. One assumes that Gertrude does, in fact, know about the trip to England – the other leaves it more open. I don’t think Gertrude probably knows about the underlying purpose of the trip to England but it is clearly a bit of a sore point between everyone.
Hamlet may have a sense of the intended reason for the trip but this question could be a probing of the levels of awareness Gertrude has.
“You know that.” Assumes knowledge.
“You know that?” Assumes nothing.

When I start to feel small and without purpose
When I start to hate theatre and slip into impossible cynicism
When I need to feel artistically at home
When I lose faith, lose heart, lose enthusiasm and drive
When too much time has passed and I miss my friends and mentors

Is the famous ape an ancestor of Curious George? I mean, this is very Curious George-y behavior. Crawl into a basket to see what’s in there? Try it out?

I mean, it’s a sad conclusion –
But Curious George’s grandfather or great great grandfather or something might have had his baby monkeys and then had a fall.
There does seem to be a literary, if not biological ancestry here.

There are not nearly enough baskets on tops of houses anymore. Not nearly enough. I have never seen one, in fact.

I like the idea of a basket full of birds that rests on the top of every house. It’s very fanciful. It seems like a fairy tale world where everyone has a little basket of birds – and the birds are like little secrets that you keep at the top of your house. You can take them out for those you trust – but otherwise, there your secrets sit, just chirping away – enjoying the sun on the top of the house.

A trusted employee of a friend forged her signature on a series of checks and stole a hefty sum. The discovery has rocked everyone – me included and I’m not even involved.

The thing that is so baffling is the why – as well as the mystery of the who. Like – who was this person deep down that she could make a decision like that. We all thought we knew her. She was nice, sweet, attentive, kind. If you asked me, “Do you think this person could steal from her employer?” I’d have said, “No!”
Unless it was just, like, some office supplies or some shit. I could see her taking some paper clips or something. Because, big deal. But forge checks? No.
Who would do such a thing?
Apparently not the people you’d expect.
It changes the narrative of the sweet, kind person to something strange and dark and insidious. How did this happen? How did this person transform significantly? Who did she become to have this seem like a good idea?

New tactic! Call your mother/queen fair, sober and wise and call your stepfather/uncle/king an idiot.
I’m intrigued especially by the bat. What about Claudius calls to mind a bat? Or a toad, for that matter. A Tom Cat, I understand.
But it’s interesting.
All three of these descriptors of Claudius appear very rarely in Shakespeare. What do these animals signify for him? These days we think of a toad as a symbol for ugliness and a bat is associated with the occult. A tom cat, again, probably the same. A tom cat tom cats around, getting with all the lady cats and generally being an oversexed nuisance. I can see the association here.
And with contemporary associations – the paddock and bat as well. They’re small dark creatures. And even if this is pre-Vampire associations – a bat has such a creepy nocturnal presence, it might not be necessary to add blood drinking to make it a little scary.
These are none of these cute or nice animals. But – again – I’d love to see some other Renaissance references to these animals – in case there are other associations I’m missing.

In the beginning
Of a relationship
It feels important to share everything
Good to reveal
Good to air the trouble
Good to voice insecurities and fears.
It is not yet clear to me
If it is good to continue this policy
As time wears on.

First – this is a CRAZY long sentence. Why?
Second – Hamlet sure has a lot of descriptive details of his mom’s sexual relationship with Claudius. I don’t put any real stock in the Freudian readings of this play. I do not think Hamlet actually wants to sleep with his mother.
However – I can see where that reading comes from. It’s lines like this. It has an erotic specificity. Hamlet is aware of or imagining some very intimate details about his mother’s sex life.
Third – why the bloat King? Is he calling Claudius fat? Actually? Or fat with power? Or is it, perhaps, a way to say he’s full of hot air? Just calling Claudius fat doesn’t seem quite cutting enough.

Gertrude calls Hamlet fat at the end of the play in a way that feels affectionate. To just call Claudius fat would feel a little small and petty. I feel like Bloat has to reference something a little bigger.

Is Hamlet being purposefully obscure here?
Purposefully contrary? It’s, like, double opposites.
What should you do? Not this.
Which this? The this you said before or the this you’re about to say?
And why would you tell me to do something that you don’t want me to do?
It is very unclear.
I wonder if Hamlet himself is a little unclear about his strategy here. I mean, yes, for his mother’s soul, as he sees it, she should quit sleeping with Claudius right away. But – but – actually – it might be good to NOT raise suspicions right now.
And sarcasm is a weird choice for this little moment.
If I were the Queen and Hamlet was like – “Don’t do what I tell you. Tell Claudius I’m just making up this mad thing.”
And meanwhile he’s really acting like a madman, killing someone, imagining he sees the ghost of his father, switching his tactics every 6 lines – if I were the Queen in that situation, I’d have no IDEA what Hamlet was asking me for. The queen seems to understand perfectly well, though, that he wants her to keep her trap shut as that is what she promises to do. But dang, it’s a baffler.