Hamlet. Macbeth / Гамлет. Макбет. Уильям Шекспир

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Hamlet. Macbeth / Гамлет. Макбет - Уильям Шекспир


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the limbs and outward

                               flourishes,

      I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.

      Mad call I it; for to define true madness,

      What is't but to be nothing else but mad?

      But let that go.

Queen

      More matter, with less art.

Polonius

      Madam, I swear I use no art at all.

      That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;

      And pity 'tis 'tis true. A foolish figure,

      But farewell it, for I will use no art.

      Mad let us grant him then. And now remains

      That we find out the cause of this effect,

      Or rather say, the cause of this defect,

      For this effect defective comes by cause.

      Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend,

      I have a daughter-have whilst she is mine —

      Who in her duty and obedience, mark,

      Hath given me this. Now gather, and surmise.

      [Reads]

      To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most

                               beautified Ophelia —

      That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is a vile

      phrase: but you shall hear.

      [Reads]

      these; in her excellent white bosom, these, etc.

Queen

      Came this from Hamlet to her?

Polonius

      Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.

      [Reads]

      Doubt thou the stars are fire,

      Doubt that the sun doth move,

      Doubt truth to be a liar,

      But never doubt I love.

      O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not art to reckon my groans. But that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

      Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him,

                                             Hamlet

      This in obedience hath my daughter show'd me;

      And more above, hath his solicitings,

      As they fell out by time, by means, and place,

      All given to mine ear.

King

      But how hath she receiv'd his love?

Polonius

      What do you think of me?

King

      As of a man faithful and honourable.

Polonius

      I would fain prove so. But what might you think,

      When I had seen this hot love on the wing,

      As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,

      Before my daughter told me, what might you,

      Or my dear Majesty your queen here, think,

      If I had play'd the desk or table-book,

      Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb,

      Or look'd upon this love with idle sight,

      What might you think? No, I went round to work,

      And my young mistress thus I did bespeak:

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