Reading The Tragedie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark — William Shakespeare

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Section 497

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Ham.

I so, God buy'ye: Now I am alone.

Oh what a Rogue and Pesant slaue am I?

Is it not monstrous that this Player heere,

But in a Fixion, in a dreame of Passion,

Could force his soule so to his whole conceit,

That from her working, all his visage warm'd:

Teares in his eyes, distraction in's Aspect,

A broken voyce, and his whole Function suiting

With Formes, to his Conceit? And all for nothing?

For Hecuba?

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,

That he should weepe for her? What would he doe,

Had he the Motiue and the Cue for passion

That I haue? He would drowne the Stage with teares,

And cleaue the generall eare with horrid speech:

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