Oh Come on She s Going to Get Up There and Cry Again What s the Difference
Hamlet Translation Deed 4, Scene five
HORATIO, GERTRUDE, and a Gentleman enter.
GERTRUDE
I will non speak with her.
GERTRUDE
I won't speak to her.
GENTLEMAN
She is importunate, Indeed distract. Her mood will needs be pitied.
Admirer
She demands it. In fact, she'south crazed. Her bahavior will inspire your pity.
GERTRUDE
What would she take?
GERTRUDE
What does she want?
Gentleman
She speaks much of her father, says she hears There'due south tricks i' thursday' globe, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in incertitude That comport but one-half sense. Her voice communication is zippo, All the same the unshaped utilise of it doth motility The hearers to drove. They aim at information technology, And mix-up the words upwardly fit to their own thoughts, Which, every bit her winks and nods and gestures yield them, Indeed would make one call back there might exist thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
GENTLEMAN
She talks ofttimes of her father, and says she'south learned there are deceptions in the world, and coughs, and beats her chest, and takes offense at little things, and says things that don't brand sense. Her words are meaningless—yet those who hear her babbling attempt to understand its meaning. They patch upward the gaps within her words, and stop upwards hearing what they want to hear. And the winks and nods and gestures she makes while speaking imply—without existence at all clear—that she's hinting at some terrible deeper pregnant.
HORATIO
'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
HORATIO
Information technology would be good for someone to speak to her, because her words might brand people recall dangerous things.
GERTRUDE
Let her come up in.
GERTRUDE
[aside] To my sick soul (equally sin's true nature is) Each toy seems prologue to some bully amiss. And then full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
GERTRUDE
[To herself] To my sick soul—since sin is really sickness—each little detail seems like a sign of coming disaster. Guilt fills you up with suspicions that are so difficult to hide, that you lot give yourself away by trying so hard non to reveal them.
OPHELIA
Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
OPHELIA
Where is the beautiful queen of Denmark?
GERTRUDE
How now, Ophelia?
GERTRUDE
How are you, Ophelia?
OPHELIA
[sings] How should I your true dearest know From another one? Past his cockle hat and staff, And his sandal shoon.
OPHELIA
[Singing]
How can you tell
Your true love from some other?
By his pilgrim's hat and staff
And the sandals on his feet.
GERTRUDE
Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
GERTRUDE
Oh no, sweetness lady, what's the meaning of this vocal?
OPHELIA
Say you? Nay, pray you, mark. [sings] He is expressionless and gone, lady, He is dead and gone, At his caput a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone. Oh, ho!
OPHELIA
Did you say something? No, delight, listen.
[Singing]
He is expressionless and gone, lady,
He is expressionless and gone.
At his head is dark-green grass,
At his feet a tomb rock.
Oh, ho!
GERTRUDE
Nay, but, Ophelia—
GERTRUDE
No, heed, Ophelia—
OPHELIA
Pray yous, mark. [sings] White his shroud as the mount snow—
OPHELIA
Please, mind.
[Singing]
His death shroud was equally white as snow—
GERTRUDE
Alas, look here, my lord.
GERTRUDE
Alas, expect at this, my lord.
OPHELIA
[sings] Larded all with sweet flowers, Which bewept to the footing did not get With true-love showers.
OPHELIA
[Singing]
Covered with sweet flowers
Which did not fall to the ground
In true-love showers.
CLAUDIUS
How do you lot, pretty lady?
CLAUDIUS
How are you, pretty lady?
OPHELIA
Well, God'ield you! They say the owl was a baker's girl. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your tabular array.
OPHELIA
I'm well. May God reward you equally you deserve. They say the bakery'due south daughter was turned into an owl for refusing to answer Jesus' request for staff of life. My lord, we know what we are at present, but non what nosotros may become. May God be at your table.
CLAUDIUS
Conceit upon her begetter.
CLAUDIUS
She's thinking about her dead father.
OPHELIA
Pray you, permit's have no words of this, but when they ask yous what it means, say you this: [sings] Tomorrow is Saint Valentine'south day, All in the morn betime, And I a maid at your window, To exist your Valentine. Then up he rose, and donned his clothes, And dupped the sleeping accommodation door. Let in the maid that out a maid Never departed more.
OPHELIA
Please, let'south have no words nigh that, but when they inquire you what it means, say this:
[Singing]
Tomorrow is St. Valentine'southward Twenty-four hours
And early on in the forenoon,
I'm a girl waiting at your window
Waiting to exist your valentine.
Then he woke and put on his apparel
And opened his bedroom door.
He let in the girl, who when she left
Wasn't a virgin anymore.
OPHELIA
Indeed, without an oath I'll make an end on 't: [sings] Past Gis and by Saint Charity, Alack, and fie, for shame! Young men volition do 't, if they come to 't. By Cock, they are to arraign. Quoth she, "Before y'all tumbled me, You lot promised me to wednesday." He answers, "So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed."
OPHELIA
Yep, I'll get to the end soon:
[Singing]
By Jesus and Saint Clemency,
Alas, what a shame!
Immature men volition do it if they get a chance:
By God, they're the ones to blame.
She said, "Before you took me to bed,
Y'all promised to ally me."
He answers:
"And by the sun, I would take washed just that,
If you hadn't gone to bed with me."
CLAUDIUS
How long hath she been thus?
CLAUDIUS
How long has she been like this?
OPHELIA
I promise all will be well. We must be patient, merely I cannot cull only weep, to think they should lay him i' th' cold ground. My brother shall know of it, and and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my jitney! Practiced night, ladies. Good night, sugariness ladies. Skillful nighttime, good nighttime.
OPHELIA
I hope everything will be all right. We must exist patient, simply I tin can't stop crying when I think of how they laid him in the common cold basis. My brother will learn of this. And then I thank you for your good advice. Come, driver! Good night, ladies. Good nighttime, sweet ladies. Expert night, good night.
CLAUDIUS
Follow her close. Give her good watch, I pray you.
CLAUDIUS
Follow her. Watch her closely, please.
CLAUDIUS
Oh, this is the toxicant of deep grief. It springs All from her male parent'southward death, and at present behold! O Gertrude, Gertrude, When sorrows come, they come up not single spies Simply in battalions. First, her father slain. Side by side, your son gone, and he most vehement writer Of his own simply remove. The people muddied, Thick, and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers For proficient Polonius' expiry, and we accept done but greenly In hush-hush to inter him. Poor Ophelia Divided from herself and her fair judgment, Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts. Concluding—and as much containing as all these— Her brother is in secret come from French republic, Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds, And wants not buzzers to infect his ear With pestilent speeches of his father's death, Wherein necessity, of affair beggared, Will nothing stick our person to blame In ear and ear. O my honey Gertrude, this, Like to a murdering piece, in many places Gives me superfluous decease.
CLAUDIUS
Oh, her terrible grief has poisoned her listen. All a event of her father's death—expect at her! Oh, Gertrude, Gertrude, when troubles come, they don't come one at time similar spies, simply all at once similar an ground forces. First her begetter was killed. Then your son had to leave because of the violent affair he did. The people are stirred up and dislocated—thinking upwards night theories and whispering almost Polonius's decease—while we recklessly buried him in secrecy, without an official state funeral. Poor Ophelia has been split from her sanity—without which nosotros're simply pictures, or even beasts. Last, and as bad as all of the rest of these, her brother has secretly returned from France. His questions about his father's expiry are answered by vicious gossipers who fill his ears with nasty stories, and who—without knowing what really happened—blame it all on me. Oh, my dear Gertrude, I feel as though I'm being murdered many times at once.
GERTRUDE
Alack, what noise is this?
GERTRUDE
Oh, what's that racket?
CLAUDIUS
Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
CLAUDIUS
Where are my Swiss guards? Allow them baby-sit the door.
CLAUDIUS
What is the matter?
MESSENGER
Save yourself, my lord. The ocean, overpeering of his list, Eats not the flats with more impiteous haste Than young Laertes, in a riotous head, O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him "lord" And—as the globe were now only to brainstorm, Artifact forgot, custom non known, The ratifiers and props of every word— They cry, "Choose we! Laertes shall be king!" Caps, easily, and tongues applaud it to the clouds: "Laertes shall be king, Laertes male monarch!"
MESSENGER
Save yourself, my lord. Not even the bounding main, when it floods and devours the lowlands, is equally ferocious equally Laertes. He now leads your officers in rebellion against you. The commoners call him "lord" and—equally if they were starting the earth from scratch and had forgotten all the traditions and customs that are the bedrock of what we are –they shout, "nosotros choose Laertes to be king!" They throw their caps in the air, applaud, and shout, "Laertes volition be king! King Laertes!"
GERTRUDE
How cheerfully on the imitation trail they cry. O, this is counter, y'all false Danish dogs!
GERTRUDE
How cheerfully they shout every bit they hunt the wrong prey! Oh, this is wrong, you disloyal Danish dogs!
CLAUDIUS
The doors are broke.
CLAUDIUS
They've broken down the doors.
LAERTES enters with others.
LAERTES
Where is this king?—Sirs, stand up y'all all without.
LAERTES
Where'southward this male monarch?
[To his FOLLOWERS] Gentlemen, await exterior.
LAERTES
I pray you lot, give me go out.
LAERTES
I beg y'all, give me a moment.
LAERTES
I thank yous. Keep the door.—O thou vile rex, Requite me my father!
LAERTES
Thanks. Guard the door.
[To CLAUDIUS] Oh, yous vile king, give me my begetter!
GERTRUDE
Calmly, adept Laertes.
GERTRUDE
Be calm, adept Laertes.
LAERTES
That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard, Cries "Cuckold!" to my begetter, brands the "harlot" Even here between the chaste unsmirchèd forehead Of my true mother.
LAERTES
Any at-home drop of claret in my body would marker me equally my male parent'south bastard son , and stamp the characterization "whore" on the pure, unstained brow of my truthful and devoted mother.
CLAUDIUS
What is the crusade, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giant-similar?— Permit him go, Gertrude. Practice not fearfulness our person. At that place's such divinity doth hedge a king That treason tin can only peep to what it would, Acts little of his will. —Tell me, Laertes, Why thou art thus incensed. —Let him go, Gertrude.— Speak, human.
CLAUDIUS
[To LAERTES] What is the cause of this rebellion, Laertes?
[To GERTRUDE] Allow him go, Gertrude. Don't worry that I'll exist injure. God protects the king, so that while traitors can see what they want to do, they cannot brand information technology happen.
[To LAERTES] Tell me, Laertes, why you are and then aroused?
[To GERTRUDE] Gertrude, let him go.
[To LAERTES] Tell me, man.
LAERTES
Where is my male parent?
LAERTES
Where is my father?
GERTRUDE
But the king didn't kill him.
CLAUDIUS
Allow him demand his make full.
CLAUDIUS
Allow him ask his questions.
LAERTES
How came he expressionless? I'll not be juggled with. To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand That both the worlds I give to negligence. Let come what comes, but I'll exist revenged Most thoroughly for my father.
LAERTES
How did he die? I won't be lied to. To hell with my oaths of fidelity! Vows can become to hell! Conscience, likewise! I don't care if I'm damned. I swear that I don't care about what happens to me in this world or the next. No thing what happens, I'll go revenge for my begetter'southward murder.
CLAUDIUS
Who shall stay you?
CLAUDIUS
Who could cease y'all?
LAERTES
My will, not all the globe. And for my means, I'll husband them then well, They shall get far with little.
LAERTES
My own will, and nothing else in all the globe. I'll gather up the little means I have, and use them so well that they'll take me a long manner.
CLAUDIUS
Adept Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear father'due south death, is 't writ in your revenge, That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and loser?
CLAUDIUS
Expert Laertes, if y'all wish to know the truth about your beloved begetter'southward death, reply me this: are you so angry that in your search for revenge yous are willing to injure both your father's enemies and his friends?
LAERTES
None but his enemies.
CLAUDIUS
Will yous know them so?
CLAUDIUS
Practise y'all want to know who they are, then?
LAERTES
To his good friends thus broad I'll ope my arms And, like the kind life-rendering pelican, Meal them with my blood.
LAERTES
I'll open my arms broad to his friends, and like a mother pelican with her chicks, I'll give my ain eye'southward blood for them.
CLAUDIUS
Why, now you speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your male parent's death And am most sensible in grief for it, It shall as level to your judgment pierce As mean solar day does to your center.
CLAUDIUS
Why, at present you're talking similar a faithful son and a truthful gentleman. I volition show to you equally patently as twenty-four hour period that I am innocent of your male parent's death, and feel bang-up grief over it.
A voice offstage, "Permit her in!"
LAERTES
How now? What noise is that?
LAERTES
What'southward going on? What's that dissonance?
LAERTES
O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times common salt, Burn out the sense and virtue of mine center! By heaven, thy madness shall exist paid by weight, Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May, Dearest maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia! O heavens, is 't possible a immature maid's wits Should exist equally mortal as an sometime man's life? Nature is fine in dear, and where 'tis fine, It sends some precious case of itself After the thing information technology loves.
LAERTES
Oh, heat, dry out up my brains! Oh, salt in my tears, fire the vision out of my eyes! By heaven, I'll get revenge equal to the depth of your madness! Oh, you rose of May, dear maiden, kind sister, sweet Ophelia! Oh God, is it possible that a young woman'south listen could die as easily as an old man'southward life? Man nature is made spiritual by honey. And when it is spiritual, it gives itself to the 1 it loves—just as Ophelia has given her sanity to her male parent, whom she loved.
OPHELIA
[sings] They bore him bluff on the bier, Hey, non nonny, nonny, hey, nonny, And in his grave rained many a tear. Fare y'all well, my dove.
OPHELIA
[Singing]
They carried him uncovered in the coffin,
Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny.
And tears poured down into his grave.
Goodbye, my dove.
LAERTES
Hadst chiliad thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, Information technology could not move thus.
LAERTES
Even if you were sane and urged me to take revenge, y'all couldn't be more persuasive than this.
OPHELIA
You lot must sing A-down a-down—And you, Call him a- down-a—Oh, how the wheel becomes it! It is the simulated steward that stole his primary'due south daughter.
OPHELIA
Yous take to sing, "A down a-down," and yous, "Call him a-downwardly-a." Oh, how information technology turns effectually similar a bike! Like the lying worker who stole his boss' girl.
LAERTES
This nothing's more than matter.
LAERTES
This credible nonsense has more than meaning than rational speech.
OPHELIA
At that place'south rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, recall. And in that location is pansies, that'south for thoughts.
OPHELIA
Hither'south some rosemary, that'south for remembering. Please remember, love. And here are pansies, they're for thoughts.
LAERTES
A document in madness. Thoughts and remembrance fitted.
LAERTES
In her madness, she gives us a lesson: memory and thought belong together.
OPHELIA
In that location's fennel for you, and columbines.—There's rue for yous, and hither'due south some for me. We may call it "herb of grace" o' Sundays.—Oh, you must wear your rue with a departure.— There's a daisy. I would give y'all some violets, merely they withered all when my father died. They say he made a good end [sings] For bonny sugariness Robin is all my joy—
OPHELIA
Here'south fennel for you, and columbines . And hither's rue for you lot, and some for me. We call it the merciful Sunday flower, though you lot should article of clothing it for a dissimilar reason. Here'due south a daisy. I'd give you some violets, only they all dried up when my father died. They say he had a good death. [Singing] For good sweet Robin is all my joy.
LAERTES
Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favor and to prettiness.
LAERTES
Sad thoughts, terrible suffering, hell itself—she makes them about graceful and pretty.
OPHELIA
[sings] And volition he non come again? And volition he non come again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again. His beard was as white as snowfall, All flaxen was his poll. He is gone, he is gone, And we bandage away moan, God ha' mercy on his soul. — And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' ye.
OPHELIA
[Singing]
And won't he come again?
And won't he come again?
No, no, he'due south dead.
Go to your deathbed.
He'll never come once more.
His bristles was white as snowfall,
His hair was all white too.
He'southward gone, he's gone,
And we moan our useless grief.
God have mercy on his soul.
And on the souls of all good Christians, I pray to God. God exist with yous.
LAERTES
Exercise you run into this, O God?
LAERTES
Oh, God: did you see this?
CLAUDIUS
Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me correct. Go just apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends y'all will. And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me. If past direct or by collateral hand They discover u.s. touched, nosotros will our kingdom requite, Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours, To you in satisfaction. But if not, Be you lot content to lend your patience to united states of america, And we shall jointly labor with your soul To give it due content.
CLAUDIUS
Laertes, let me share in your grief, or else you deny me my right. Go and choose your wisest friends, and they will sit down in judgment of us. If they find me at all responsible for your father'south murder, directly or indirectly, then I'll requite up my kingdom, my crown, my life, and everything I call my own to you. But if they find me innocent, then be patient, and I'll piece of work with you to ensure that your soul gets what information technology desires.
LAERTES
Permit this be so. His means of decease, his obscure funeral— No bays, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones, No noble rite nor formal ostentation— Cry to be heard as 'twere from heaven to earth, That I must telephone call 't in question.
LAERTES
That'south what we'll do. The way he died, and his hushed-upwardly funeral without armed services brandish, noble rites, or formal anniversary —all these things shout out as if sky and earth themselves are demanding that I question the way he died.
CLAUDIUS
So yous shall. And where the offense is, let the great ax autumn. I pray you, go with me.
CLAUDIUS
As you should. And may the great ax of justice fall on the guilty. Please, come up with me.
Source: https://www.litcharts.com/shakescleare/shakespeare-translations/hamlet/act-4-scene-5
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