Dialogue Between Hamlet And Ophelia Essay Research

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Ophelia to Polonius:

Oph: He hath my lord, made many tenders of his affections to me.

My lord, he hath importu`ned me with love in honourable fashion.

And hath given countenance to his speech my lord, with almost all the holy vows of heaven.

Letters from Hamlet to Ophelia:

Ham: To the celestial, and my soul’s idol, the most beautified Ophelia, in her excellent white bosom, these, &c

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers, I ahve not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him,

Hamlet

Ophelia to Hamlet:

Oph: My lord, I ave rememberances of that I have long longed to re-deliver, I pray you now recieve them.

Ham: No, not I; I never gave them to you aught.

…

Ham: …I did love you once.

Oph: Indeed my lord, you made me believe so.

Ham: You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so inoculate your old stock but we shall relish of it; I loved you not.

Oph: I was the more decieved.

…

Ham: If thou dost marry, I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry,–be thou chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go; farewell: Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. Farewell

Prologue of Hamlet’s play:

Pro: For us and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, we beg you hearing patiently.

Ham: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

Oph: Tis brief my lord.

Ham: As woman’s love.

Ophelia’s Funeral:

Ham: What, the fair Ophelia?

… (Laertes leaps into Ophelia’s grave)

Ham: What is he whose grief bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow conjures the wandering stars, and makes like wonder-wounded hearers? this is I Hamlet, the Dane.

… (Hamlet leaps into the grave)

Ham: I lov’d Ophelia; forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?