Hamlet 4:4 Soliliquy

How all occasions do inform against me and spur my dull revenge.
What is a man if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and godlike reason to fust in us unused.
Now, whether it be bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple of thinking too precisely on the event, a thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom and ever three parts coward
I do not know why yet I live to say “this thing’s to do” sith I have cause and will and strength and means to do it.
Examples gross as earth exhort me: Witness this army of such mass and charge led by a delicate and tender prince whose spirit with divine ambition puffed makes mouths at the invisible event, exposing what is mortal and unsure.
To all that fortune, death and danger dare, even for an eggshell.
Rightly to be great is not to stir without great argument, but greatly to find quarrel in a straw, when honor’s at the stake.
How I stand then, that have a father killed, a mother stained, excitements of my reason and my blood, and let all sleep?
While, to my shame, I see the imminent death of twenty thousand men
that, for a fantasy and trick of fame, go to their graves like beds
Fight for a plot wheron the numbers cannot try the cause, which is not tomb enough and continent to hide the slain?
Oh, from this time forth, my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth!
Entire soliloquy How all occasions do inform against me,And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,If his chief good and market of his timeBe but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,Looking before and after, gave us notThat capability and god-like reasonTo fust in us unused. Now, whether it beBestial oblivion, or some craven scrupleOf thinking too precisely on the event,A thought which, quarter’d, hath but one part wisdomAnd ever three parts coward, I do not knowWhy yet I live to say ‘This thing’s to do;’Sith I have cause and will and strength and meansTo do’t. Examples gross as earth exhort me:Witness this army of such mass and chargeLed by a delicate and tender prince,Whose spirit with divine ambition puff’dMakes mouths at the invisible event,Exposing what is mortal and unsureTo all that fortune, death and danger dare,Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be greatIs not to stir without great argument,But greatly to find quarrel in a strawWhen honor’s at the stake. How stand I then,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 seeThe imminent death of twenty thousand men,That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plotWhereon the numbers cannot try the cause,Which is not tomb enough and continentTo hide the slain? O, from this time forth,My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
September 12, 2019