英国文学史 paraphrase 解释Hamlet哈姆雷特

HAMLET

To be, or not to be: that is the question:

Should I live on or should I kill myself? That is a question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 65 Whether it is determined to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, The fatal attacks of cruel destiny,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, Or to fight against numerous troubles. And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks 70

And make them end by defiance. To die is no more than to sleep; and we no longer suffer from the aching of heart and many natural attacks the body is suffering. That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

It is a result we eagerly wish. To die is to sleep. To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;

We may dream when sleeping. Ah, this is the dilemma. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come Because when we died what dreams may we have? When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 75

When we have got rid of the turmoil of mortality, Must give us pause8: there’s the respect

The sleeping-like death must bring about our hesitation. There exists the consideration That makes calamity of so long life;

That makes the disorder/disaster long live.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time11,

For who have to endure the punishment and insult in this world, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely12,

The oppressor’s evil and the proud man’s scornful insolence, The pangs of dispised love, the law's delay, 80

The pain of rejected love and the justice of law coming late. The insolence of office and the spurns13 That patient merit of the unworthy takes14,

The insolence of the power and the contemptuous rejections, which the people of praiseworthy take of the unworthy. When he himself might his quietus make15

With a bare bodkin16? who would fardels17 bear, To grunt18 and sweat under a weary life, 85

If he himself might make an end of his life/might free himself from all troubles of life with a mere dagger? Who would shoulder the burdens to groan and sweat in a boring and tiring life?

But that the dread of something after death, If not for the fear of the things after death, The undiscover'd country19 from whose bourn20, No traveller returns, puzzles the will21

The unknown place where we go after death, no traveler returns from the boundary of which after death, confuses the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have Makes us prefer to stand the evil

Than fly to others that we know not of? 90 Than to fly to other places we don’t know? Thus conscience1 does make cowards of us all; 2 Thus the consciousness makes all of us dastards And thus the native hue of resolution3

And the natural color of determination, Is sicklied o'er4 with the pale cast of thought5, Is made sick with the pale look of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment6

And the plans of great height and importance, With this regard their currents turn awry7, 95 Because their direction turn aside, 96 And lose the name of action8.--Soft you now!9

And lose the honor that derives from action,--- Restrain yourself! The fair Ophelia! Nymph10, in thy orisons11

The beautiful Ophelia! My gods, in your prayers, Be all my sins remember'd. Please remember all my sins.

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