_Ham._ To be, or not to be, I there's the point, To Die, to sleepe, is that all? I all: No, to sleepe, to dreame, I mary there it goes, 120 For in that dreame of death, when wee awake, And borne before an euerlasting Iudge, From whence no passenger euer retur'nd, The vndiscouered country, at whose sight The happy smile, and the accursed damn'd. 125 But for this, the ioyfull hope of this, Whol'd beare the scornes and flattery of the world, Scorned by the right rich, the rich curssed of the poore? The widow being oppressed, the orphan wrong'd, The taste of hunger, or a tirants raigne, 130 And thousand more calamities besides, To grunt and sweate vnder this weary life, When that he may his full _Quietus_ make, With a bare bodkin, who would this indure, But for a hope of something after death? Which pusles the braine, and doth confound the sence, 135 Which makes vs rather beare those euilles we haue, Than flie to others that we know not of. I that, O this conscience makes cowardes of vs all, Lady in thy orizons, be all my sinnes remembred. _Ofel._ My Lord, I haue sought opportunitie, which now 140 I haue, to redeliuer to your worthy handes, a small remembrance, such tokens which I haue receiued of you. _Ham._ Are you faire? _Ofel._ My Lord. _Ham._ Are you honest? 145 _Ofel._ What meanes my Lord? _Ham._ That if you be faire and honest, Your beauty should admit no discourse to your honesty. _Ofel._ My Lord, can beauty haue better priuiledge than with honesty? 150 _Ham._ Yea mary may it; for Beauty may transforme Honesty, from what she was into a bawd: Then Honesty can transforme Beauty: This was sometimes a Paradox, But now the time giues it scope. 155 I neuer gaue you nothing. _Ofel._ My Lord, you know right well you did, And with them such earnest vowes of loue, As would haue moou'd the stoniest breast aliue, But now too true I finde, 160 Rich giftes waxe poore, when giuers grow vnkinde. _Ham._ I neuer loued you. _Ofel._ You made me beleeue you did.