Nour
, 09 2004 . 20:31 ()
- "" . , , . :)
:
Hamlet:
Why I will fight with him upon this theme
Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
Queen Gertrude:
O my son, what theme?
Hamlet:
I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
, , . :)
- " " Laertes Gertrude .
Queen Gertrude:
There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
......
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.
Laertes:
Alas, then, she is drown'd?
Queen Gertrude:
Drown'd, drown'd.
... :)
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