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Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Hamlet, Act i. Se. 2.

A violet in the youth of primy nature,

Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,

The perfume and supplianee of a minute. Act i. So, 3.

The ehariest maid is prodigal enough,

If she unmask her beauty to^the moon:

Virtue itself 'seapes not calumnious strokes:

The canker galls the infants of the spring,

Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,

And in the morn and liquid dew of youth

Contagious hlastments are most imminent. 1hid.

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;

Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dallianee treads,

And reeks not his own rede. ihid.

Give thy thoughts no tongue. Ibid.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops1 of steel. Ibid.

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice ;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment-
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy ; rieh, not gaudy ;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man. Ibid.

1 'books,' Singer.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be ;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Hamlet. Act i. Se. 3. Springes to catch woodcocks. lhid.

When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul

Lends the tongue vows. Ibid.

Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence. lhid.

Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air. Act i. Sc. 4.

But to my mind, though I am native here

And to the manner born, it is a custom

More honoured in the breach than the observance. lhid.

Angels and ministers of graee, defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou eomest in such a questionahle shape,
That I will speak to thee: I '11 eall thee Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!
Let me not burst in ignorance ; but tell
Why thy eanonized bones, hearsed in death.
Have burst their cerements ; why the sepulehre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurned,
Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again. What may this mean,
That thou, dead eorse, again in complete steel
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous; and we fools of nature

So horridly to shake our disposition

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?

Hamlet. Act i. Se. 4.

I do not set my life at a pin's fee. lhid.

My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. lhid.

Unhand me, gentlemen.
By heaven, I 'll make a ghost of him that lets me!


Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. ihid.

I am thy father's spirit, Doomed for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires,1 Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand an end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine : a But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!

Aet i. Se. 5.

And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed

That roots itself z in ease on Lethe wharf. feid.

O my prophetic soul! My unele! ihid.

in to lasting fires,' Singer.

2 'porcupine,' Singer, Staunton.

a 'rots itself,' Staunton.

O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 5. But soft! methinks I scent the morning air; Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, My custom always of the afternoon. Ibid.

Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,

Unhouselled, disappointed, unaneled,

No reckoning made, but sent to my account

With all my imperfections on my head. Ibid.

Leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her. Ibid.

The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,

And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Ibid.

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. Ibid.

Within the book and volume of my brain. Ibid.

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. Ibid.

Ham. There 's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he 's an arrant knave.

Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this. Ibid.

Every man has business and desire, Such as it is. Ibid.

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O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! Ibid.

There are more things in heaven and earth,
Than are dreamt of in your 1 philosophy.

Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!

The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!

The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,
A savageness in unreclaimed blood.

This is the very ecstasy of love.
Brevity is the soul of wit.
More matter, with less art.

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And pity ’t is ’t is true. '
Find out the cause of this effect,

Or rather say, the cause of this defect,
For this effect defective comes by cause.

Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.

Still harping on my daughter.

Pol. What do you read, my lord ?
Ham. Words, words, words.

They have a plentiful lack of wit.
1 ‘our,' Dyce, White.

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