Shakespeare's Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

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American Book Company, 1898 - 287

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Strona 32 - Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married. O most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets, It is not nor it cannot come to good; But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue!
Strona 93 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law : but 'tis not so above ; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
Strona 109 - Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
Strona 100 - That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery, That aptly is put on.
Strona 71 - I'll leave you till night; you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Giiildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' ye :—Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and 'peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? and...
Strona 30 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief, That can denote me truly : these, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play ; But I have that within, which passeth show, These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Strona 44 - 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...
Strona 99 - Ecstasy ! My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music : it is not madness That I have utter'd : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word ; which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks : It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen.
Strona 71 - What's Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba That he should weep for her? What would he do Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears, And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears.
Strona 36 - For nature, crescent, does not grow alone In thews and bulk ; but, as this temple waxes, The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal.

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