Act III, scene 1
Ophelia is on stage but unnoticed by Hamlet,
as he enters.
To be, or not to be,1 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 troubles2
And by opposing end them. To die: to sleep.
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache 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;3
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off4 this mortal coil,5
Must give us pause.6 There's the respect7
That makes calamity of so long life;8
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,9
The pangs of dispriz'd10 love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office,11 and the spurns12
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,13
When he himself might his quietus14 make
With a bare bodkin?15 Who would fardels16 bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn17
No traveller returns,18 puzzles19 the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience20 does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue21 of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast22 of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment23
With this regard7 their currents24 turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons25
Be all my sins remember'd.
1. To live or die. This is the lowest point that Hamlet's melancholy reaches. In the suspense with which he awaits the outcome of his test, he loses the glad assurance with which he closed Act II (the day before), and allows himself to wonder how any sensitive person can consent to endure the humiliations of life. He argues, however, in general terms, not in terms of his own situation.2. Many commentators have felt that this line contains a badly mixed metaphor and consequently have suggested various unnecessary emendations. The phrase 'sea of troubles,' in the sense of a 'mass of troubles,' however, occurs elsewhere in Elizabethan literature. Cf. Greene's Mamillia, ed. Grosart, vol. II., p. 18— "hauing himself escaped the sea of trouble and care," and Dekker's The Wonder of a Kingdome, ed. 1873, vol IV., p. 230—
.
I never heard mongst all your Romane spirits,
That any held so bravely up his head,
In such a sea of troubles (that come rouling
One on anothers necke) as Lotti doth.
.
[You must realize that a few of the words here use Elizabethan spellings. These are not typos.]3. Obstacle4. Sloughed off5. Turmoil of mortal life6. Cause us to hesitate7. a. b. Consideration8. Makes affliction (i.e., the afflicted person) live so long.9. Scorn10. Held in contempt. The Quarto reads "despiz'd."11. People holding official position12. Insults13. The miseries specified in the five lines ending here are more those of man in general than of the Prince of Denmark.14. Release from life15. This may mean 'a mere pin' or 'an unsheathed dagger.' The former is more forceful.16. Burdens17. Boundary18. The ghost is ignored. In this soliloquy Hamlet's mind is curiously stripped of the religious ideas and implications which usually mark it.19. Frustrates20. The ability to think21. Healthy complexion22. Tinge23. Elevation and importance24. Courses25. Prayers