Hamlet Act 3 Scene 4 Essay

Hamlet Act 3 Scene 4 Essay-27
Alas, how is’t with you, That you do bend your eye on vacancy, And with th’ incorporal air do hold discourse? His form and cause conjoin’d, preaching to stones, Would make them capable.—Do not look upon me, Lest with this piteous action you convert My stern effects, then what I have to do Will want true color—tears perchance for blood. My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music. Bring me to the test, And I the matter will reword, which madness Would gambol from.Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep, And as the sleeping soldiers in th’ alarm, Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, Start up and stand an end. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass but my madness speaks; It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen.

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Gertrude attempts to berate Hamlet, but he answers as strongly, even more so, attacking her for marrying his unworthy uncle.

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Hamlet enters and delivers the most famous speech in literature, beginning, “To be or not to be.” After this long meditation on the nature of being and death, Hamlet catches sight of Ophelia.

After a short conversation she attempts to return some of the remembrances that Hamlet gave when courting her.

That monster custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery That aptly is put on. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed, Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse, And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, Or paddling in your neck with his damn’d fingers, Make you to ravel all this matter out, That I essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft.

Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either lodge the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency. ’Twere good you let him know, For who that’s but a queen, fair, sober, wise, Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, Such dear concernings hide? No, in despite of sense and secrecy, Unpeg the basket on the house’s top, Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape, To try conclusions in the basket creep, And break your own neck down.

But look, amazement on thy mother sits, O, step between her and her fighting soul.

Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works, Speak to her, Hamlet.

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