Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i'the throat, As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? Why, I should take it: for it cannot be, Why, what an ass am I? This is most brave! A scullion! Fie upon't! foh! About my brains! Humph! I have heard, That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak ACT III. SCENE I. A Room in the Castle, Enter King, Queen, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN. King. And can you by no drift of conference Get from him, why he puts on this confusion; Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? Ros. He does confess, he feels himself distracted; But from what cause he will by no means speak. Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded; But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state. Queen. Did he receive you well? Ros. Most like a gentleman. Guil. But with much forcing of his disposition. Ros. Niggard of question; but, of our demands, Most free in his reply. Queen, Did you assay him To any pastime? Ros, Madam, it so fell out, that certain players We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him; And there did seem in him a kind of joy To hear of it: They are about the court; Pol. 'Tis most true: And he beseech'd me to entreat your Majesties, King. With all my heart; and it doth much To hear him so inclin'd. content me Good Gentlemen, give him a further edge, And drive his purpose on to these delights. [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Her father, and myself (lawful espials,) Will so bestow ourselves, that, seeing, unseen, Queen. I shall obey you: And, for your part, Ophelia, I do wish, Of Hamlet's wildness; so shall I hope, your virtues To both your honours. Oph. Madam, I wish it may. Pol. Ophelia, walk you here: please you, We will bestow ourselves: Read on this book; [To OPHELIA. That show of such an exercise may colour Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this, 'Tis too much prov'd, that, with devotion's visage, And pious action, we do sugar o'er The devil himself. King. O, 'tis too true! how smart A lash that speech doth give my conscience! [Aside. Pol. I hear him coming; let's withdraw, my Lord. [Exeunt King and POLONIUS. Enter HAMLET. Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep, No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end The heart ach, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die; - to sleep; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The The insolence of office, and the spurns Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; Soft you, now! And lose the name of action. Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd. How does your Honour for this many a day? Oph. My Lord, I have remembrances of yours, Ham. No, not I; I never gave you aught. Oph. My honour'd Lord, you know right well, you did; And, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. Ham. Ha, ha; are you honest ? Ham. Are you fair? Oph. What means your Lordship? Ham. That if you be honest, and fair, you should admit no discourse to your beauty. Oph. Could beauty, my Lord, have better commerce than with honesty? Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd, that the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness: this was some time a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once. Oph. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe so. Ham. You should not have believed me: for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it: I loved you not. Oph. I was the more deceived. |