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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.
1 'books,' Singer.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be ;
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!
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,
Unhand me, gentlemen.
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
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.
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! Ibid.
There are more things in heaven and earth,
Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!
The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,
This is the very ecstasy of love.
And pity ’t is ’t is true. '
Or rather say, the cause of this defect,
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Still harping on my daughter.
Pol. What do you read, my lord ?
They have a plentiful lack of wit.