Why seems it so particular75 with thee?
HAMLET 'Seems', madam? Nay it is: I know not 'seems'.
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary78 suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration79 of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage81,
Together with all forms, moods82, shows of grief,
That can denote83 me truly: these indeed seem,
For they are actions that a man might play,
But I have that within which passeth85 show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
KING 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
To give these mourning duties to your father:
But you must know your father lost a father,
That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
In filial obligation for some term
To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever92
In obstinate condolement93 is a course
Of impious stubbornness: 'tis unmanly grief:
It shows a will most incorrect95 to heaven,
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient96,
An understanding simple and unschooled.
For what we know must be and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense99,
Why should we in our peevish100 opposition
Take it to heart? Fie101, 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd, whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still104 hath cried,