Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all the visage wanned,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,
A broken voice and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing-
For Hecuba!
What's Hecuba to him, or he to her
That he should weep for her? What would he do
Had he the motive and that for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
Make mad the the guilty and appall the free,
Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed
The very faculties of eyes and ears.
-Act 2, Scene 2
No comments:
Post a Comment