Puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of. This soliloquy has sometimes been condemned as taking an unworthy and inadequate view of the great subjects of death, and “that undiscovered country” beyond the grave; and if it had been Shakspeare’s purpose to _discuss_ these subjects, the criticism would undoubtedly be just. But let us bear in mind that his object in this passage was simply to illustrate “vacillation of mind” in connection with the highest subjects of human contemplation, and we shall find that he has accomplished all he undertook in a manner entirely worthy of himself. Very similar to this is the king’s soliloquy on repentance, in act third, scene third. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow? . . . . Then I’ll look up; My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer Can serve my turn? . . . . Try what repentance can: What can it not? Yet what can it, when one can not repent. Throughout the whole speech the mind of the guilty monarch fluctuates between hope and despair; and Hamlet, seeing him on his knees, exclaims: “now might I do it, pat; and now I’ll do it;” but again falls to moralizing, and puts it off to a more convenient season. Hamlet’s first soliloquy, before he has seen the Ghost, (act first, scene second,) turns on the queen’s _inconstancy_ in forgetting his father and marrying his uncle so soon: “But two months dead!” “A beast that wants discourse of reason, would have mourned longer.” And his conversation with Horatio immediately after is to the same effect: The funeral bak’d meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. In his interview with the queen in act third, scene fourth, where he compares the picture of his father with that of his uncle, he dwells on the same topic. See also the dumb show in act third, scene second, and the dialogue between the _Player King_ and _Player Queen_. Every line of these speeches illustrates the theme. _P. King._ I do believe you think what now you speak; But, what we do determine oft we break. . . . . . . . . This world is not for aye: nor ’tis not strange That even our loves should with our fortunes change. . . . . . . . . The great man down, you mark his favorite flies; The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. . . . . . . . . For who not needs shall never lack a friend; And who in want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemy.