|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:31:26 GMT
OPHELIA
Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
Sings
By Gis and by Saint Charity,
Alack, and fie for shame!
Young men will do't, if they come to't;
By cock, they are to blame.
Quoth she, before you tumbled me,
You promised me to wed.
So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:31:36 GMT
KING CLAUDIUS
How long hath she been thus?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:31:49 GMT
OPHELIA
I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I
cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him
i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it:
and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my
coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies;
good night, good night.
Exit
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:32:20 GMT
KING CLAUDIUS
Follow her close; give her good watch,
I pray you.
Exit HORATIO
O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrows come, they come not single spies
But in battalions. First, her father slain:
Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
Of his own just remove: the people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,
For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,
In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts:
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France;
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering-piece, in many places
Gives me superfluous death.
A noise within
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:32:33 GMT
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Alack, what noise is this?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:32:54 GMT
KING CLAUDIUS
Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
Enter another Gentleman
What is the matter?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:33:07 GMT
Gentleman
Save yourself, my lord:
The ocean, overpeering of his list,
Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,
O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;
And, as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word,
They cry 'Choose we: Laertes shall be king:'
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds:
'Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!'
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:33:18 GMT
QUEEN GERTRUDE
How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:33:32 GMT
KING CLAUDIUS
The doors are broke.
Noise within
Enter LAERTES, armed; Danes following
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:33:43 GMT
LAERTES
Where is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:34:11 GMT
Danes
No, let's come in.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:34:23 GMT
LAERTES
I pray you, give me leave.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:34:34 GMT
Danes
We will, we will.
They retire without the door
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:34:46 GMT
LAERTES
I thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king,
Give me my father!
|
|
|
|
Post by Jonny Fairplay on Dec 11, 2014 23:35:08 GMT
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Calmly, good Laertes.
|
|
