|
FIRST PLAYER
Run barefoot up and down, threatening the
flames
With bisson rheum, a clout upon that
head
470
Where late the diadem stood, and for a
robe,
About her lank and all
o'erteemèd loins,
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught
up—
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom
steeped,
'Gainst fortune’s
state would treason have pronounced.
475
But if the gods themselves did see her
then
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious
sport
In mincing with his sword her
husband’s limbs,
The instant burst of clamor that she
made,
(Unless things mortal move them not at
all)
480
Would have made milch the burning eyes of
heaven,
And passion in the gods.
|
FIRST PLAYER
Running back and forth, spraying the flames
with her tears, a cloth on that head where a crown had recently
sat and a blanket instead of a robe wrapped around her body,
which has withered from childbearing: anyone seeing her in such
a state, no matter how spiteful he was, would have cursed Lady
Luck for bringing her down like that. If the gods had seen her
while she watched Pyrrhus chopping her husband into bits, the
terrible cry she uttered would have made all the eyes in heaven
burn with hot tears—unless the gods don’t
care at all about human affairs.
|
|
POLONIUS
Look whe'e he has not turned his color and has
tears in ’s eyes.—Prithee, no more.
|
POLONIUS
Look how flushed the actor is, with tears in his eyes. All right,
that’s enough, please.
|
|
HAMLET
(to FIRST
PLAYER) 'Tis well.
I’ll have thee speak out the rest
soon. (to
POLONIUS) Good my lord, will you see
the players
well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used, for they
are the abstract and brief chronicles of the time. After your
death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill
report while you live.
|
HAMLET
(to FIRST
PLAYER) Very fine. I’ll
have you perform the rest of it soon.
(to
POLONIUS)—My lord, will
you make sure the actors are made comfortable? Make sure
you’re good to them, since what they say about us later
will go down in history. It’d be better to have a bad
epitaph on our graves than to have their ill will while
we’re alive.
|
|
HAMLET
God’s bodykins, man, much better. Use every man after
his
desert, and who should ’scape whipping? Use them after
your own honor and dignity. The less they deserve, the
more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
|
HAMLET
Good heavens, man, give them more than that! If you pay everyone
what they deserve, would anyone ever escape a whipping? Treat them
with honor and dignity.
The less they deserve, the more your generosity is worth. Lead
them inside.
|
