Wednesday, December 24, 2008

List, list, O list

Brief let me be.

Sleeping within my orchard, my custom always of the afternoon, upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, with juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, and in the porches of my ears did pour the leperous distilment; whose effect holds such an enmity with blood of man that swift as quicksilver it courses through the natural gates and alleys of the body, and with a sudden vigour doth posset and curd, like eager droppings into milk, the thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; and a most instant tetter bark'd about, most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, all my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, no reckoning made, but sent to my account with all my imperfections on my head:

O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!

If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; let not the royal bed of Denmark be a couch for luxury and damned incest.

But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven and to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, to prick and sting her.

Fare thee well at once! The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, and 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu!

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