🔥🔥🔥 Effects Of Pride In Hamlet
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Why does Hamlet delay? [Torrey Honors Institute]
Who's there? Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-- With an auspicious and a dropping eye, With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-- Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along. For all, our thanks. Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother's death Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, To our most valiant brother.
So much for him. Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: Thus much the business is: we have here writ To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-- Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress His further gait herein; in that the levies, The lists and full proportions, are all made Out of his subject: and we here dispatch You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; Giving to you no further personal power To business with the king, more than the scope Of these delated articles allow. Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. 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 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, 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.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough, If she unmask her beauty to the moon: Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes: The canker galls the infants of the spring, Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, And in the morn and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. 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. I stay too long: but here my father comes. I heard it not: then it draws near the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within. Ghost Mark me. Ghost My hour is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. Ghost Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold. Ghost So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. Ghost I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away.
But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! Ghost Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. Ghost Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange and unnatural. Ghost I find thee apt; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown.
My uncle! Ghost Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,-- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce! From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine!
But virtue, as it never will be moved, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, Will sate itself in a celestial bed, And prey on garbage. But, soft! Sleeping within my orchard, My custom always of the afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, And in the porches of my ears did pour The leperous distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That swift as quicksilver it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body, And with a sudden vigour doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; And a most instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, All my smooth body.
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head: O, horrible! O, horrible! If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for luxury and damned incest. But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.
Fare thee well at once! The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me. Look you, sir, Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, What company, at what expense; and finding By this encompassment and drift of question That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it: Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo?
LORD POLONIUS Marry, sir, here's my drift; And I believe, it is a fetch of wit: You laying these slight sullies on my son, As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you, Your party in converse, him you would sound, Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured He closes with you in this consequence; 'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' According to the phrase or the addition Of man and country. By the mass, I was about to say something: where did I leave? See you now; Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth: And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out: So by my former lecture and advice, Shall you my son.
You have me, have you not? Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it, Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from the understanding of himself, I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, That, being of so young days brought up with him, And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior, That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time: so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, That, open'd, lies within our remedy. If it will please you To show us so much gentry and good will As to expend your time with us awhile, For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance.
Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. A room in the castle. To any pastime? Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, And drive his purpose on to these delights. 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 may say, the whirlwind of 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 dumbshows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.
First Player I warrant your honour. HAMLET 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 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 the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh 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. First Player I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, sir. 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.
Go, make you ready. Exeunt Players. Danish march. A flourish. Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Julius Caesar. King John. King Lear. Oast Theatre, Tonbridge, 12 — 19 March Keen to boost his flagging career, fading Hollywood action hero, Jefferson Steele, arrives in England to play King Lear in Stratford only to find that this is not the birthplace of the Bard but a sleepy Suffolk village and the cast are a bunch of amateurs. Jefferson's monstrous ego, vanity and insecurity are tested by the enthusiastic amateur thespians - who are not averse to a spot of ego, vanity and insecurity themselves.
As acting worlds collide and Jefferson's career implodes, he discovers some truths about himself and his relationships with other people The Dresser by Ronald Harwood. It is down to Norman to ensure that in spite of everything, the show goes on. Love's Labour's Lost. National Production Company. Almedia Theatre, Islington, London. Director Yael Farber. New Wimbledon Theatre. Players Theatre Company. An all-female production. Cast of nine actors. Directed by Blanche McIntyre. Directed by Abigail Graham. A Merchant of Venice. Adapted and directed by Bill Alexander. Within Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice lies an inner play about a small network of relationships, one that wrestles with Justice and Mercy, Marriage and Money, Race and Class, one that, in essence, explores the tortured nature of Love.
This new version of the play focuses on six key characters whose entangled loves, desires and fortunes hinge on a better understanding of themselves and their relation to each other in the blackly comic world of a modern-day Venice. Shylock — Shakespeare's Most Controversial Character. Written and performed by Gareth Armstrong. Dugdale Centre, London, 14 October A villain? A victim? Or something even more intriguing? This award winning play confronts and confounds the stereotypes through the eyes of Shylock's only friend - and the only other Jewish man in all of Shakespeare - Tubal. Promoted to centre stage from his minor role in The Merchant of Venice he proves a born comic storyteller. Celebrating the richness of Shakespeare's language and conjuring up a whole cast of characters from Portia to Pontius Pilate, from Antonio the merchant, to Adolf Hitler, and from Dracula to the wandering Jew this dazzling, moving and often hilarious play is a fascinating exploration of Shylock and his people.
Merry Wives of Windsor. Director Sean Holmes 19 May — 30 October www. Reading Rep Theatre, Reading. Hope Mill Theatre, Manchester, 6 — 16 October All female production. Out of Chaos Theatre Company. Love is confusing. Especially when magic is involved. And then a donkey shows up. Confused couples compete for the wrong person's affection. Competitive performers try to steal the show. Combative fairies battle for supremacy. Two actors play them all. Bridewell Theatre, London. The Rubbish Shakespeare Company. Four idiots wearing bed sheets for togas, attempt to stage Shakespeare's mischievous comedy, using only a box of pound-shop props, a camel onesie, some lightsabres and a ladder they found by the bins.
Richard II. Quandary Collective. The Turbine Theatre, London, 4 — 6 October online booking only. Picture this: a kingdom in which a woman is presenting as a man to hold on to power. Where feudal law has returned due to global ecological collapse and the ravaging effects of a pandemic. A place where a war is brewing between neighbouring lands, and the politics of old and young wrestle with each other to maintain a fragile peace. Richard III.
Romeo and Juliet. Director Ola Ince. Romeo and Juliet ballet by Sergei Prokofiev. Choreographer: Kenneth MacMillan. Royal Ballet Company. Choreographer: Johan Kobborg. Royal Albert Hall, London, 1 December www. Birmingham Royal Ballet. The Russian State Ballet of Siberia. Birmingham Hippodrome, Birmingham, 14 — 16 October It focuses on Juliet's perspective; after waking from a death-like coma in Clug's ballet, she chooses to live rather than kill herself. A party in the park gets out of control sparking rumours, rioting and revenge.
In the midst of rivalries, first tastes of freedom and sparks of a full-on first love ignite. Shaftesbury Theatre, London, from September 24 We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet, star crossed lovers from warring families who are undeniably drawn to each other. Theirs is a love story for the ages and a tragedy unlike any other but what if we could rewrite the final scene? What if Juliet put the dagger down and decided to take a girls trip instead? In this irreverent rewrite that's exactly what happens.
When Juliet wakes up, instead of a dagger to the heart, she gathers Nurse and her best girlfriends and heads to the city of lights. Juliet sets off to prove that she is the author of her own story and that there is life, and love, after Romeo. This wild new musical features the back catalogue of Swedish songwriter Max Martin with pop anthems that you'll love hearing in a completely different way. The Messenger. Written and performed by Seiriol Davies.
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