Hamlet

Prison, my lord?

Denmark’s a prison.

Then I guess the whole world is one.

Yes, quite a large one, with many cells and dungeons, Denmark being one of the worst.

We don’t think so, my lord.

Well, then it isn’t one to you, since nothing is really good or bad in itself—it’s all what a person thinks about it. And to me, Denmark is a prison.

That must be because you’re so ambitious. It’s too small for your large mind.

Small? No, I could live in a walnut shell and feel like the king of the universe. The real problem is that I have bad dreams.

Dreams are a sign of ambition, since ambition is nothing more than the shadow of a dream.

But a dream itself is just a shadow.

Exactly. In fact, I consider ambition to be so light and airy that it’s only the shadow of a shadow.

Then I guess beggars are the ones with bodies, while ambitious kings and heroes are just the shadows of beggars. Should we go inside? I seem to be losing my mind a bit.

We’re at your service, whatever you say.