Shakespeare's Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of DenmarkHarper & brothers, 1892 - 285 pages |
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Page 43
... dead . Marcellus . Thou art a scholar ; speak to it , Horatio . Bernardo . Looks it not like the king ? mark it , Horatio . Horatio . Most like ; it harrows me with fear and wonder . Bernardo . It would be spoke to . Marcellus ...
... dead . Marcellus . Thou art a scholar ; speak to it , Horatio . Bernardo . Looks it not like the king ? mark it , Horatio . Horatio . Most like ; it harrows me with fear and wonder . Bernardo . It would be spoke to . Marcellus ...
Page 44
... dead hour , With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch . Horatio . In what particular thought to work I know not ; But in the gross and scope of my opinion , This bodes some strange eruption to our state . Marcellus . Good now , sit ...
... dead hour , With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch . Horatio . In what particular thought to work I know not ; But in the gross and scope of my opinion , This bodes some strange eruption to our state . Marcellus . Good now , sit ...
Page 45
... dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets : As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood , Disasters in the sun ; and the moist star Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse : And ...
... dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets : As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood , Disasters in the sun ; and the moist star Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse : And ...
Page 50
... dead , a fault to nature , To reason most absurd ; whose common theme Is death of fathers , and who still hath cried , From the first corse till he that died to - day , ' This must be so . ' We pray you , throw to earth This ...
... dead , a fault to nature , To reason most absurd ; whose common theme Is death of fathers , and who still hath cried , From the first corse till he that died to - day , ' This must be so . ' We pray you , throw to earth This ...
Page 51
... dead ! nay , not so much , not two : So excellent a king ; that was , to this , Hyparion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven 130 740 Visit her face too roughly . Heaven and earth ! ACT I ...
... dead ! nay , not so much , not two : So excellent a king ; that was , to this , Hyparion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven 130 740 Visit her face too roughly . Heaven and earth ! ACT I ...
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Common terms and phrases
1st quarto accent allusion Bernardo blood Caldecott character Chaucer Clown Coleridge Coll Cotgrave Cymb Dane dead dear death deed Delius Denmark Dict doth early eds earth edition Elsinore euphuism Exeunt Exit explains eyes father fear folio reading followed Fortinbras friends gentleman Gertrude Ghost give Hamlet hast hath hear heart heaven honour Horatio John Johnson Julius Cæsar King king of Denmark Laertes Lear look Macb madness Malone Marcellus means modern eds mother murther Nares nature night noun o'er omitted Ophelia Osric passage passion play players poison'd Polonius pray prince Pyrrhus quarto reading Queen remarks revenge Reynaldo Rich Rosencrantz and Guildenstern says SCENE Schmidt sense Shakespeare Shakspere Sonn soul speak speech spirit Steevens quotes sweet sword tell Temp thee Theo thing thou thought tongue verb Warb word youth
Popular passages
Page 81 - I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Page 111 - 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.
Page 59 - By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens The form of plausive manners ; that these men, Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace, As infinite as man may undergo, Shall in the general censure take corruption From that particular fault : the dram of eale Doth all the noble substance of a doubt To his own scandal.
Page 64 - Hold, hold, my heart, And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up ! Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, 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, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Page 127 - 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.
Page 60 - What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible form, Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness?
Page 95 - Get thee to a nunnery; Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better, my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in. imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.
Page 117 - 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.
Page 108 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. Why ! do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Page 173 - But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?' Second Voice 'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.