《哈姆奈特》ed
有些人死了,但他借由父亲的笔触,永远活在剧中,经典传绎,永世流芳……
"Will you be brave my boy?" "Yes I'll be brave!"
"Turn away. It'll make a mistake.It can't tell us apart.Breath with me,Judith.I give you my life.You shall be well.I give you my life,Judith.I'll be brave...
"To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them. To die,to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks.
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect.
That makes calamity of so long life;
Who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn.
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have..."
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.