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Act III, Scene 1
A group of four men sit at a table, the flag of the UN
behind them.
COLONIUS: Be fire with fire,
Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror. Put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution,
And glister like the god of war.
FRANCE: How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their true descent.
We work by wit and not by witchcraft.
COLONIUS: Macbush…
FRANCE: That holy fox!
He is equal ravenous as he is prone to mischief,
Cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen and pride,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Haughtiness, opinion and disdain.
COLONIUS: This too much lenity must be laid aside.
Even doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
FRANCE: Seems he a dove? His feathers are but borrow'd.
Is he a lamb! His skin is surely lent him,
For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf.
O, what may man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side!
How may likeness wade in crimes,
Making practice on the times,
To draw with idle spider's strings,
Most ponderous and substantial things!
Take heed, my lord: the welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short this fraudful man.
What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?
And soothe the devil I warn thee from?
O, but remember this another day,
When he shall split thy heart with sorrow.
RUSSIA: Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me.
Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
This we prescribe, though no physician:
Deep malice makes too deep incision.
COLONIUS (aside): To deal or not to deal, that is
the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous allies,
Or to take up arms without them.
(to the others): We have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brimful, our cause is ripe.
There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
RUSSIA: This will last out a night in Russia,
When nights are longest there. I'll take my leave.
Russia exits.
ENGLAND: It likes us well;
And at our more considered time we'll read,
Answer, and think about this business.
COLONIUS (aside): I can never win a soul
So easy as that Englishman's.
FRANCE: Miserable England!
I prophesy the fearfull'st time to thee.
Go, grapple thee unto a pagan shore,
Where two Christian armies might combine
Into a league of malice.
France exits.
COLONIUS: Cold news for me: for I had hope of France,
As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
ENGLAND: Remember who he is: France,
A fickle wavering nation.
But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My judgment is, we should not step too far
Till we had his assistance by the hand.
I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Sadama,
With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments.
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