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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:28:50 GMT
HAMLET
I will watch to-night;
Perchance 'twill walk again.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:29:19 GMT
HORATIO
I warrant it will.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:29:31 GMT
HAMLET
If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue:
I will requite your loves. So, fare you well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:29:41 GMT
All
Our duty to your honour.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:30:01 GMT
HAMLET
Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.
Exeunt all but HAMLET
My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;
I doubt some foul play: would the night were come!
Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.
Exit
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:30:19 GMT
SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:30:31 GMT
Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:31:04 GMT
LAERTES
My necessaries are embark'd: farewell:
And, sister, as the winds give benefit
And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:31:19 GMT
OPHELIA
Do you doubt that?
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:31:30 GMT
LAERTES
For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour,
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:31:44 GMT
OPHELIA
No more but so?
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:32:13 GMT
LAERTES
Think it no more;
For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
The virtue of his will: but you must fear,
His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth:
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The safety and health of this whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
Unto the voice and yielding of that body
Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
As he in his particular act and place
May give his saying deed; which is no further
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
If with too credent ear you list his songs,
Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster'd importunity.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then; best safety lies in fear:
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:32:26 GMT
OPHELIA
I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:32:37 GMT
LAERTES
O, fear me not.
I stay too long: but here my father comes.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 16:32:49 GMT
Enter POLONIUS
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