Hamlet Monologue: Dust

I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,—why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?

Here, Hamlet speaks to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern about the melancholy that has deeply affected him since the death of his father. He pretty much goes off on a seemingly irrelevant tangent where he speaks of Earth and humanity in general in an extremely glorified and verbose manner only to to label it a “quintessence of dust”. He dismisses the air, Earth, and Sun by calling them nothing but “a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors”. He then builds up humanity in general by noting human beings’ reason is noble, their faculties are infinite, their forms and movements are fast and admirable, their actions are angelic, and their understanding of things can be godlike. But in Hamlet’s eyes, humanity is nothing more than mere dust. This entire monologue demonstrates how Hamlet is obsessed with the physical aspects of death, and how he thinks that humans are more admirable in thought than in reality.