The harlot's cheek, beautified with plastering art,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,
Than is my deed to my most painted word.

SOLILOQUY ON LIFE AND DEATH.

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 a thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir too,-'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;

* Stir, bustle.
§ Acquittance.
Pack, burden.

+ Consideration.

+ Rudeness.

The ancient term for a small dagger.

** Boundary, limits.

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.

CALUMNY.

Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, shalt not escape calumny.

A DISORDERED MIND.

O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue,sword: The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould* of form, The observ'd of all observers! quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his music vows,

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth, Blasted with ecstacy.

HAMLET'S INSTRUCTIONS TO THE PLAYERs.

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus: but use all gently for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I

*The model by whom all endeavoured to form themselves.

Alienation of mind.

may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings*; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows, and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'er-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herodt. Pray you, avoid it.

Play. I warrant your honour.

Ham. Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now this, overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which one, must, in your allowance§, overweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly,-not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of christians, nor the gait of christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.

* The meaner people then seem to have sat in the pit.
+ Herod's character was always violent.
Impression, resemblance,

§ Approbation.

Play. I hope, we have reformed that indifferently with us.

Ham. O, reform it altogether. And, let those that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them: for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though in the mean. time, some necessary question* of the play be then to be considered: that's villanous; and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.

ON FLATTERY, AND AN EVEN-MINDED MAN.

Nay, do not think I flatter:

For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits,
To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor
flatter'd?

be

No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp;
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice,
And could of men distinguish her election,
She hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing;
A man that fortune's buffets and rewards

Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and bless'd are those,
Whose blood and judgment are so well comingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger
To sound what stop she please: Give me that man,
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.

MIDNIGHT.

'Tis now the very witching time of night;

* Conversation, discourse.

+ Quick, ready.

When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world: Now could I drink hot
And do such business as the bitter day [blood,
Would quake to look on. Soft; now to my mother.-
O, heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:
Let me be cruel, not unnatural:

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

THE KING'S DESPAIRING SOLILOQUY, AND HAMLET'S

REFLECTIONS ON HIM.

0, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;
It hath the primal, eldest, curse upon't,
A brother's murder!-Pray can I not,
Though inclination be as sharp as will;
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;
And, like a man to double business bound,
I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood?
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens,
To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy,
But to confront the visage of offence?

And what's in prayer, but this twofold force,—
To be forestalled ere we come to fall,

Or pardon'd, being down? Then I'll look up;
My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder!—
That cannot be; since I am still possess'd
Of those effects for which I did the murder,
My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence?
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice;
And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself