Hamlet Page #5

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but no tongue.

I will requite your loves.

So, fare you well.

Upon the platform, 'twixt

eleven and twelve, I'll visit you.

ALL:
Our duty to your honour.

My father's spirit in arms!

All is not well.

I doubt some foul play.

Would the night were come!

Till then sit still, my soul.

Foul deeds will rise,

though all the earth o'erwhelm them,

to men's eyes.

My necessaries are embark'd.

Farewell.

And, sister,

as the winds give benefit

and as convoy is assistant,

do not sleep,

but let me hear from you.

Do you doubt that?

For Hamlet and the trifling

of his favour,

hold it a fashion

and a toy in blood,

a violet

in the youth of primy nature.

Forward, not permanent,

sweet, not lasting.

The perfume and suppliance

of a minute - no more.

No more but so? Think it no more.

Perhaps he loves you now,

and now no soil nor cautel

doth besmirch

the virtue of his will.

But you must fear,

his greatness weigh'd,

his will is not his own.

For he himself

is subject to his birth.

He may not,

as unvalued persons do,

carve for himself,

for on his choice depends

the safety and the health

of this whole state.

And therefore must his choice

be circumscribed

unto the voice and yielding of

that body whereof he is the head.

Then if he says he loves you,

it fits your wisdom

so far to believe it

as he in his particular act

and place

may give his saying deed -

which is no further

than the main voice of Denmark

goes withal.

Then weigh what loss

your honour may sustain,

if with too credent ear

you list his songs.

DISTANT THUMP:

Or lose your heart,

or your chaste treasure open

To his unmaster'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia!

Fear it, my dear sister,

and keep you

in the rear of your affection,

out of the shot

and danger of desire.

Be wary, then.

Best safety lies in fear.

Youth to itself rebels,

though none else near.

I shall the effect

of this good lesson keep,

as watchman to my heart.

But, good my brother,

do not,

as some ungracious pastors do,

show me the steep and thorny way

to Heaven,

whiles, like a puff'd and reckless

libertine,

himself the primrose path

of dalliance treads,

and recks not his own rede.

O, fear me not.

I stay too long,

but here my father comes.

A double blessing is a double grace,

occasion smiles upon a second leave.

Yet here, Laertes!

Aboard, aboard, for shame!

The wind sits in the shoulder of

your sail, and you are stay'd for.

There, my blessing with thee!

And these few precepts

in thy memory

see thou character.

Give thy thoughts no tongue,

nor any unproportioned thought

his act.

Be thou familiar,

but by no means vulgar.

Those friends thou hast,

and their adoption tried,

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