第一段独白 第一幕第二场
原文
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d His canon ’gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on’t! ah fie! ’tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on: and yet, within a month– Let me not think on’t–Frailty, thy name is woman!– A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow’d my poor father’s body, Like Niobe, all tears:–why she, even she– O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, Would have mourn’d longer–married with my uncle, My father’s brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month: Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good: But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
译文
啊，这坚硬的肉体即将消融， 融化分散成一滴露珠， 如果不是永生的上帝制定下， 不许自杀的诫命，噢，上帝，上帝呀， 这尘世所有的用处对我而言 是何等辛苦、乏味、平庸和没用。 呸，这杂草丛生的花园， 本应开花结籽，却被自然中粗糙 难看的东西所独占，竟变成这副模样！ 仅仅去世两个月，不，没那么久， 一国的君王，曾那么优秀。 再看现在这位，简直像拿太阳神与半兽人相比。 先王曾那样爱我的母亲， 甚至不许天国的风劲吹到她的脸上。 天堂与尘世啊，我应该记住吗？ 她也许会看上现在的君主， 就像人喂他什么就会对什么有胃口一样。 可是为什么？仅仅不到一个月的时间， 我还是不要想这个吧。 脆弱，你的名字叫女人。 才一个多月，她在我父灵前穿过的孝鞋还没变旧。 她哭得多么伤心，就像丧子的母亲一样。 为什么是她，甚至是她， 啊，上帝呀，一个没有理性的野兽 都会哀戚得更久一些。 一个月之内，她就嫁给 我的叔叔，我父王的兄弟， 那个人怎么能与我父亲相比， 正如我不能与赫拉克勒斯相提并论。 没等不义的眼泪风干在她哭肿的眼睛， 她就改价了，以最邪恶的速度 和灵巧的身段蹿上那不伦的床单。 这不是好事并且来者也不善， 破碎吧，我的心，因为我必须管住自己的舌头。
第二段独白：第一幕第五场
原文
O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else? And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart; And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee! Yea, from the table of my memory I’ll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix’d with baser matter: yes, by heaven! O most pernicious woman! O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! My tables,–meet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark: Writing
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; It is ‘Adieu, adieu! remember me.’ I have sworn ’t.
译文
啊，天上的所有天使，哦，大地， 还有什么？难道还要让我呼唤地狱吗？ 呸，挺住，挺住，我的心。 还有你，我的肌肉，不要顷刻衰颓， 但助我逆势而起。记住你！ 唉，可怜的亡魂，只要记忆还能 在这纷扰的寰球占据一席， 我就记住你！ 嗯！从我记忆的图版上， 我将抹去琐碎的快乐的记录， 所有书本的教导、图画和印象， 那些青春和阅历留下的印记， 只留下你的命令永远长存， 在我头脑的书卷里， 不掺杂任何低俗的事务， 是的，天堂作证！ 哦，害人精一样的女人， 啊，恶棍，恶棍，笑里藏奸、必遭天谴的恶棍。 在我的笔记里都记下来了， 那家伙也许微笑着，但依然是个恶棍。 至少在丹麦我敢这样确信。 因此，叔叔，你等着我， 这就是我的暗语： 再见，再见，记得我， 我已对天盟誓！
第三段独白：第二幕第二场
原文：
Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wann’d, Tears in his eyes, distraction in’s aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! For Hecuba! What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing; no, not for a king, Upon whose property and most dear life A damn’d defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i’ the throat, As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? Ha! ’Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be But I am pigeon-liver’d and lack gall To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this slave’s offal: bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! O, vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murder’d, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, A scullion! Fie upon’t! foh! About, my brain! I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim’d their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I’ll have these players Play something like the murder of my father Before mine uncle: I’ll observe his looks; I’ll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil: and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me: I’ll have grounds More relative than this: the play ’s the thing Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.
译文：
现在我清静了， 唉，我是一个多么不肖而下贱的奴隶啊。 跟这个演员相比，难道我不是禽兽吗？ 你看他只是在演戏， 只是沉浸在想象的激情中 就强迫自己的心灵贴近高超的演技。 面色惨白，泪流满腮， 外表狂暴，声音破碎嘶哑， 所作所为都与想象完全一致。 什么都不为，就为赫丘柏。 赫丘柏是他什么人？ 他又是赫丘柏的谁谁谁？ 竟搭上他那么多眼泪？ 加入他心怀我这样的动机， 身负我这样的血海深仇， 他会怎么做？ 他定会用泪水淹没整个舞台， 用恐怖的话语劈开观众的耳朵， 让有罪的疯狂， 让无辜者震惊， 让不知情的人迷惑， 让眼睛与耳朵都陷入迷宫。 但是我， 一个空虚、萎靡的混蛋， 无所事事，如同梦游， 该做的一样也不去做， 对长命百岁的国王， 一句话都不敢说。 多么该死的自毁自贱。 我是个懦夫吗？ 是谁称呼我坏蛋？ 谁敲开了我的脑袋， 拔下我的胡子吹到我脸上， 谁在拧我的鼻子， 把谎言放进我的喉咙， 探入我的肺腑？ 这都是谁干的？ 凭着上帝十字架上的伤口发誓， 我应该行动，而不是现在这样， 但我像各自一样胆小，缺乏勇气， 也不敢把那个老贼的肠子掏出来喂天上的老鹰， 那个该死的猥琐的恶人， 不知悔改的，堕落淫荡的， 毫无怜悯的恶棍！ 啊，报仇雪恨。 为什么，我竟是这样的浪荡？ 我，作为一个儿子，亲生父亲被人杀害， 从天堂和地狱向我发出复仇的呼求。 我本当是最勇敢的人， 可却像个婊子， 只会心里冒火，废话滔滔， 像个长舌妇一样诅咒， 像个店伙计一样发泄。 呸，真不要脸！
让我冷静一下，嗯，我听说 做了恶的人坐下来看戏的时候 只要演到他们犯下的罪行， 在那个巧妙的场景里， 他们的灵魂就会被立即击中， 尤其是杀人害命， 尽管不长舌头， 也会用神奇的器官发声认罪。 我要让这些演员， 把一出类似我父亲遇害的戏 在我叔叔面前表演， 我会仔细观察他的表情， 只要他一退缩， 我就知道该怎么做了。 那晚我见到的游魂， 也许是魔鬼，它有这样的能力， 使自己变成和蔼近人的样子。 是和，也许正是利用我的软弱和伤心， 它让这些强大的鬼魂 来欺骗我去犯永久沉沦的重罪。 我有办法可以得出结论， 比单纯相信鬼魂的话更为可靠。 好戏马上开场， 让我来检验一下国王的良心。
To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of 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 That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there’s the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover’d 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? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.–Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember’d.
TO BE OR NOT TO BE，（留，还是去，）这就是问题。 哪一种想法更为高贵呢？ 是承受无情命运的枪林弹雨， 还是拿起武器反抗，去结束无尽的烦忧？ 去死，去睡，再没了， 要是仅凭睡一觉 就能止住心痛的感觉， 就能消除肉体天然遭受的千百种打击？ 那真是一个梦寐以求的结局。 去死，去睡。去睡，也许会做梦， 唉，障碍就在这里。 当我们的肉体消失，死亡的长眠开始， 梦，也许会溜进来， 这让我们不得不犹豫。 我们甘愿一辈子忍受各种不幸， 乃是因为经过了细致的算计。 要不— 谁愿意承受时代的鞭打与嘲弄， 压迫者的陷害，傲慢者的侮辱， 自己的爱被人鄙弃， 迟迟不来的正义， 当权者的无礼与蛮横， 有德行的人被缺德鬼们欺负？ 如果一把匕首就能让自己销号， 谁愿意背负着疲惫的生活， 留下呻吟与汗水？ 还不是因为害怕死后的事， 害怕那片只见人去、不见人还的未知国度， 我们才宁可忍受种种恶疾， 也不肯飞往另外一片净土。 这种想法果然把我们都变成了懦夫， 思想天然的色彩上， 蒙上了一层病态而苍白的灰土。 那些壮志凌云的冒险之举， 也由此偏转了航向， 不能被称为行动。
嘘，安静， 美丽的奥菲利亚，可爱的静女， 当你祈祷的时候， 记得替我的罪忏悔。
