Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her.
wait, sir, can you repeat this instruction again. hold on, sir, hamlet, can you make sure your son heard this instruction. DON'T come after your mother, DON'T even think about it. hold on, i think he might have missed this.
