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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:00:13 GMT
QUEEN GERTRUDE
I shall obey you.
And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:00:25 GMT
OPHELIA
Madam, I wish it may.
Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:00:40 GMT
LORD POLONIUS
Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,
We will bestow ourselves.
To OPHELIA
Read on this book;
That show of such an exercise may colour
Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--
'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage
And pious action we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:00:53 GMT
KING CLAUDIUS
[Aside] O, 'tis too true!
How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
Than is my deed to my most painted word:
O heavy burthen!
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:01:07 GMT
LORD POLONIUS
I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.
Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS
Enter HAMLET
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:01:25 GMT
(Here comes the big scene motherfuckers!)
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:01:37 GMT
HAMLET
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-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:01:58 GMT
OPHELIA
Good my lord,
How does your honour for this many a day?
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:02:08 GMT
HAMLET
I humbly thank you; well, well, well.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:02:18 GMT
OPHELIA
My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed long to re-deliver;
I pray you, now receive them.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:02:31 GMT
HAMLET
No, not I;
I never gave you aught.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:02:42 GMT
OPHELIA
My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed
As made the things more rich: their perfume lost,
Take these again; for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
There, my lord.
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:02:56 GMT
HAMLET
Ha, ha! are you honest?
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:03:09 GMT
OPHELIA
My lord?
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Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 20:03:28 GMT
HAMLET
Are you fair?
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