more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them
in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.
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What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth
and heaven? We are arrant knaves, all. Believe none of us.
Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father?
ambitious, with more ill will in me than I can fit into my
thoughts, and more than I have time to carry it out in. Why should
people like me be crawling around between earth and heaven? Every
one of us is a criminal. Don't believe any of us. Hurry
to a convent. Where's your father?
OPHELIA
At home, my lord.
OPHELIA
He's at home, my lord.
HAMLET
Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool
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no where but in 's own house. Farewell.
HAMLET
Lock him in, so he can play the fool in his own home only.
Good-bye.
OPHELIA
O, help him, you sweet heavens!
OPHELIA
Oh, dear God, please help him!
HAMLET
If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy
dowry.
Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not
escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go. Farewell. Or, if
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thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool, for wise men know well
enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,
and quickly too. Farewell.
HAMLET
If you marry, I'll give you this curse as your wedding
present—be as clean as ice, as pure as the driven snow,
and you'll still get a bad reputation. Get yourself to a
convent, at once. Good-bye. Or if you have to get married, marry a
fool, since wise men know far too well that you'll cheat
on them. Good-bye.
OPHELIA
Heavenly powers, restore him!
OPHELIA
Dear God, please make him normal again!
HAMLET
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God has
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given you one face and you make yourselves another. You
jig and amble, and you lisp, you nickname God's
creatures
and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no
more on 't. It hath made me mad. I say, we will have no
more
marriages. Those that are married already, all but one, shall
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live. The rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go.
HAMLET
I've heard all about you women and your cosmetics too.
God gives you one face, but you paint another on top of it. You
dance and prance and lisp; you call God's creations by
pet names, and you excuse your sexpot ploys by pleading ignorance.
Come on, I won't stand for it anymore. It's
driven me crazy. I hereby declare we will have no more marriage.
Whoever is already married (except one person I know) will stay
married—all but one person. Everyone else will have to
stay single. Get yourself to a convent, fast.
