Chapter Twenty - Uh Oh-Ophelia.

61 7 0
                                    


A/N: Hey again guys. For this chapter the actions that Keyland and Richard do are bolded and underlined for your reading pleasure.

If you guys are having trouble understanding the old English I would recommend sparks notes.

Let me know how you all are liking this.

-----------------------------------------




It was finally my first scene with Richard. I was out of my mind with worry. I sat down on the stage and read the prayer book as Richard delivered the 'to be or not to be' speech.

HAMLET

Tobe, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler inthe mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageousfortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And byopposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep tosay we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
Thatflesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. Todie, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's therub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
Whenwe have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause:there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
Forwho would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor'swrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love,the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
Thatpatient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might hisquietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
Togrunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread ofsomething after death,
The undiscover'd country from whosebourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes usrather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we knownot of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
Andthus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the palecast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
Withthis regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name ofaction.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thyorisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

I stood slowly and closed my book.

OPHELIA

Good my lord,
How does your honour for this many a day?

I say surprised that my voice is so clear.

HAMLET

I humbly thank you; well, well, well.

He says stalking toward me.

OPHELIA

Mylord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed long tore-deliver;
I pray you, now receive them.

HAMLET

No,not I;
I never gave you aught.

He denies vehemently.

OPHELIA

My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
And, with them,words of so sweet breath composed
As made the things more rich:their perfume lost,
Take these again; for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
There, my lord.

I say handing him the letters that had been stuffed into the prayer book. As he takes it from me our fingers brush.

HAMLET

Ha,ha! are you honest?

He scoffs.

OPHELIA

A Locked Up Heart.Where stories live. Discover now