ACT II.
1. Scene I. A room in Polonius's house.
(continued)
[Exit Reynaldo.]
[Enter Ophelia.]
How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?
Oph.
Alas, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
Pol.
With what, i' the name of God?
Oph.
My lord, as I was sewing in my chamber,
Lord Hamlet,--with his doublet all unbrac'd;
No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd,
Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle;
Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other;
And with a look so piteous in purport
As if he had been loosed out of hell
To speak of horrors,--he comes before me.
Pol.
Mad for thy love?
Oph.
My lord, I do not know;
But truly I do fear it.
Pol.
What said he?
Oph.
He took me by the wrist, and held me hard;
Then goes he to the length of all his arm;
And with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face
As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;
At last,--a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,--
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk
And end his being: that done, he lets me go:
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o' doors he went without their help,
And to the last bended their light on me.
Pol.
Come, go with me: I will go seek the king.
This is the very ecstasy of love;
Whose violent property fordoes itself,
And leads the will to desperate undertakings,
As oft as any passion under heaven
That does afflict our natures. I am sorry,--
What, have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph.
No, my good lord; but, as you did command,
I did repel his letters and denied
His access to me.
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