Page 322 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

That have a father kill’d, a mother stain’d,
Excitements of my reason and my blood,
And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men [60]

That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent

To hide the slain? O, from this time forth [65]
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth.
Exit.

Scene V IT

Enter Queen, Horatio, and a Gentleman.

QUEEN
I will not speak with her.

GENTLEMAN
She is importunate,
Indeed distract. Her mood will needs be pitied.

QUEEN
What would she have?

GENTLEMAN
She speaks much of her father, says she hears

There’s tricks i’th’ world, and hems, and beats her heart, [5]
Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in doubt
That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing,

Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
The hearers to collection. They aim at it,
And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts, [10]
Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield them,
Indeed would make one think there might be thought,

Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.