stern240
11-13-2006, 03:28 AM
Okay, so here is the deal... I have 5 hours until I have to read around 30 lines in front of my prof... But the catch is, I have to show emotion, make correct pauses, and have the correct volume throughout... If anyone could help at caps for volume, pauses, ect ect... I would really, really apreciate the help from one of you experts! Thank you!
How all occasions do inform against me
And spur my dull revenge, what is a man
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast no more.
Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unused. Now whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event
A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom
And ever three coward –I do not know
Why yet I live to say these things to do
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means
To do it, examples gross as earth exhort me
Witness this army of such mass and charge
Led by a delicate and tender prince
Whose spirit, with divine ambition puffed,
Makes mouths at the invisible event
Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare
Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great
Is not to stir without quarrel in a straw
When honour’s at the stake. How stand I then
That have a father killed, a mother stained
Excitements of my reason and my blood
And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men
That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and cotinent
To hide the slain? O from this time forth
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth
How all occasions do inform against me
And spur my dull revenge, what is a man
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast no more.
Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unused. Now whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event
A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom
And ever three coward –I do not know
Why yet I live to say these things to do
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means
To do it, examples gross as earth exhort me
Witness this army of such mass and charge
Led by a delicate and tender prince
Whose spirit, with divine ambition puffed,
Makes mouths at the invisible event
Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare
Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great
Is not to stir without quarrel in a straw
When honour’s at the stake. How stand I then
That have a father killed, a mother stained
Excitements of my reason and my blood
And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men
That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and cotinent
To hide the slain? O from this time forth
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth