Uploaded August 2021 | Updated September 2026, 7 hours ago
This is Hamlet's first speech. He wished that his physical and solid body would just melt, turn to water and become like the dew because of the terrible situation he was in.
Sullied flesh has been interpreted both as 'solid' or 'dirty;' or 'tainted'. This interpretation is a combined sullied and solid, considering mostly modern and a touch of Elizabethan language.
Oh God! God! How weary, stale, flat and useless everything about life seemed! He moaned as the world was like an unweeded garden that had gone to seed – only ugly disgusting things thrived. He couldn’t believe that his father was only two months dead; no, not even two. Such an excellent king he had been, compared with this one. It was like Hyperion, the sun god, compared to a lecherous satyr. He’d been so loving to his mother that he wouldn’t even allow the gentle breeze of heaven to blow too roughly on her face. He lifted his hands and blocked his ears as though to shut his father’s memory out. He couldn’t bear to think about it. Women were so inconsistent! Only a month, even before the shoes with which she had followed his father’s body were old, all flowing with tears, she, even she… Oh God! Even an animal that doesn’t have reason, would have mourned longer – ..she married his uncle! His father’s brother, but no more like his father than he was like Hercules. Even before the salt of those hypocritical tears had left her swollen eyes, she married. Oh, most wicked speed, to hurry so enthusiastically to incestuous sheets! It couldn’t end happily. But he would just have to break his heart, because he couldn't tell what he knew.
This is Hamlet's first speech. He wished that his physical and solid body would just melt, turn to water and become like the dew because of the terrible situation he was in.
Sullied flesh has been interpreted both as 'solid' or 'dirty;' or 'tainted'. This interpretation is a combined sullied and solid, considering mostly modern and a touch of Elizabethan language.
Oh God! God! How weary, stale, flat and useless everything about life seemed! He moaned as the world was like an unweeded garden that had gone to seed – only ugly disgusting things thrived. He couldn’t believe that his father was only two months dead; no, not even two. Such an excellent king he had been, compared with this one. It was like Hyperion, the sun god, compared to a lecherous satyr. He’d been so loving to his mother that he wouldn’t even allow the gentle breeze of heaven to blow too roughly on her face. He lifted his hands and blocked his ears as though to shut his father’s memory out. He couldn’t bear to think about it. Women were so inconsistent! Only a month, even before the shoes with which she had followed his father’s body were old, all flowing with tears, she, even she… Oh God! Even an animal that doesn’t have reason, would have mourned longer – ..she married his uncle! His father’s brother, but no more like his father than he was like Hercules. Even before the salt of those hypocritical tears had left her swollen eyes, she married. Oh, most wicked speed, to hurry so enthusiastically to incestuous sheets! It couldn’t end happily. But he would just have to break his heart, because he couldn't tell what he knew.
