In this version, Hamlet is in the midst of his existential crisis, unaware that he's being overheard. Claudius and Polonius' presence adds an extra layer of tension, as they witness his deep inner turmoil.
Slide: 2
II
To die, to sleep, no more; and by a sleep, to say we endThe heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocksThat Flesh is heir to?
Hamlet continues his thoughts of suicide by emphasizing the obvious intentions to die when he says the quote above. Both the King and Claudius are still listening without Hamlet's knowledge.
Slide: 3
III
aye, there's the rub,For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, ... There's the respect that makes calamity of so long life.
At the end of life, Hamlet, gradually overcome by grief and a hint of insanity, understands that the price of living is to dream forever in endless sleep. His awareness of why life is long and full of unfavorable events makes his statement, "There's the respect that makes calamity of so long life." ancient.
Slide: 4
IV
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,When he himself might his Quietus makeWith a bare Bodkin? ...
Hamlet pulls out his bodkin as if he had convinced himself to end his life and was prepared to die after talking about his sudden discovery of life's "rub" and the disadvantages he believes it must have for him. Both of the spies notice this.
Slide: 5
V
The text shows a change in the speaker's attitude towards suicide. The significance or immediacy of his wish to die has decreased, as he modifies his expression of wanting to pass away, indicating that the period of hopelessness is over.
Slide: 6
VI
And enterprises of greatpitchand moment,With this regard their Currents turnawry,And lose the name of Action.
The passage reflects a shift in the speaker's mindset regarding suicide. The importance or urgency of ending his life has diminished, as he rewords his desire to die, suggesting that the moment of despair has passed.
Slide: 0
But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of?