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  • William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Act IV, Scene V

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Scene VElsinore. A room in the castleEnter Queen Gertrude, Horatio, and a GentlemanQueen GertrudeI will not speak with her.GentlemanShe is importunate, indeed distract: Her mood will needs be pitied.Queen GertrudeWhat would she have?GentlemanShe speaks much of her father; says she hears There’s tricks i’ the world; and hems, and beats her heart; Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it doth move The hearers to collection; they aim at it, And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts; Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them, Indeed would make one think there might be thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.Horatio’Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.Queen GertrudeLet her come in.Exit HoratioTo my sick soul, as sin’s true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss: So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.Re-enter Horatio, with OpheliaOpheliaWhere is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?Queen GertrudeHow now, Ophelia!OpheliaSingsHow should I your true love know From another one? By his cockle hat and staff, And his sandal shoon.Queen GertrudeAlas, sweet lady, what imports this song?OpheliaSay you? nay, pray you, mark.SingsHe is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.Queen GertrudeNay, but, Ophelia,—OpheliaPray you, mark.SingsWhite his shroud as the mountain snow,—Enter King ClaudiusQueen GertrudeAlas, look here, my lord.OpheliaSingsLarded with sweet flowers Which bewept to the grave did go With true-love showers.King ClaudiusHow do you, pretty lady?OpheliaWell, God ‘ild you! They say the owl was a baker’s daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table!King ClaudiusConceit upon her father.OpheliaPray you, let’s have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, say you this:SingsTo-morrow is Saint Valentine’s day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine. Then up he rose, and donn’d his clothes, And dupp’d the chamber-door; Let in the maid, that out a maid Never departed more.King ClaudiusPretty Ophelia!OpheliaIndeed, la, without an oath, I’ll make an end on’t:SingsBy 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.King ClaudiusHow long hath she been thus?OpheliaI 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.ExitKing ClaudiusFollow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.Exit HoratioO, 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 withinQueen GertrudeAlack, what noise is this?King ClaudiusWhere are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.Enter another GentlemanWhat is the matter?GentlemanSave 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!‘Queen GertrudeHow cheerfully on the false trail they cry! O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!King ClaudiusThe doors are broke.Noise withinEnter Laertes, armed; Danes followingLaertesWhere is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.DanesNo, let’s come in.LaertesI pray you, give me leave.DanesWe will, we will.They retire without the doorLaertesI thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king, Give me my father!Queen GertrudeCalmly, good Laertes.LaertesThat drop of blood that’s calm proclaims me bastard, Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow Of my true mother.King ClaudiusWhat is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giant-like? Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person: There’s such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but peep to what it would, Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes, Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude. Speak, man.LaertesWhere is my father?King ClaudiusDead.Queen GertrudeBut not by him.King ClaudiusLet him demand his fill.LaertesHow came he dead? I’ll not be juggled with: To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand, That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes; only I’ll be revenged Most thoroughly for my father.King ClaudiusWho shall stay you?LaertesMy will, not all the world: And for my means, I’ll husband them so well, They shall go far with little.King ClaudiusGood Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear father’s death, is’t writ in your revenge, That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and loser?LaertesNone but his enemies.King ClaudiusWill you know them then?LaertesTo his good friends thus wide I’ll ope my arms; And like the kind life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blood.King ClaudiusWhy, now you speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your father’s death, And am most sensible in grief for it, It shall as level to your judgment pierce As day does to your eye.DanesWithinLet her come in.LaertesHow now! what noise is that?Re-enter OpheliaO heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye! By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight, Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May! Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia! O heavens! is’t possible, a young maid’s wits Should be as moral as an old man’s life? Nature is fine in love, and where ’tis fine, It sends some precious instance of itself After the thing it loves.OpheliaSingsThey bore him barefaced on the bier; Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny; And in his grave rain’d many a tear:— Fare you well, my dove!LaertesHadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, It could not move thus.OpheliaSingsYou must sing a-down a-down, An you call him a-down-a.O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his master’s daughter.LaertesThis nothing’s more than matter.OpheliaThere’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember: and there is pansies. that’s for thoughts.LaertesA document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.OpheliaThere’s fennel for you, and columbines: there’s rue for you; and here’s some for me: we may call it herb-grace o’ Sundays: O you must wear your rue with a difference. There’s a daisy: I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died: they say he made a good end,—SingsFor bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.LaertesThought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour and to prettiness.OpheliaSingsAnd will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead: Go to thy death-bed: He never will come again. His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his poll: He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan: God ha’ mercy on his soul! And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi’ ye.ExitLaertesDo you see this, O God?King ClaudiusLaertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right. Go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will. And they shall hear and judge ’twixt you and me: If by direct or by collateral hand They find us touch’d, we will our kingdom give, Our crown, our life, and all that we can ours, To you in satisfaction; but if not, Be you content to lend your patience to us, And we shall jointly labour with your soul To give it due content.LaertesLet this be so; His means of death, his obscure funeral— No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o’er his bones, No noble rite nor formal ostentation— Cry to be heard, as ’twere from heaven to earth, That I must call’t in question.King ClaudiusSo you shall; And where the offence is let the great axe fall. I pray you, go with me.Exeunt

William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Act IV

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William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Act IV, Scene VII

  • William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Act IV, Scene VII

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

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TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

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Current Events This Week: January 2023

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Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

  • Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
  • The Twelve Dancing Princesses
  • Current Events This Week: January 2023
  • African Americans by the Numbers
  • Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
  • The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales