Hamnet

To watch, or watch no more? There lies the ache of it. A work so fair, so wrought with grace, that once beheld, the heart is captive still. Yet tell me this: why do mine eyes betray me so, that every time On the Nature of Daylight softly swells, my soul doth break and weep as though the world were ending? And tell me further: what strange nourishment is given unto these child players of our age? For they do perform with such piercing truth and tender skill, that grown men weep and hearts are laid utterly bare.