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answer arms bear believe BERNARDO blood brother Clown comes daughter dead dear death Denmark dost doth drink earth Enter excellent Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith falls Farewell father fear follow foul FRANCISCO friends gentlemen Ghost give gone grace grave grief ground GUILDENSTERN Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hell hold honour HORATIO hour I'll keep KING lady LAERTES leave light live look lord madam MARCELLUS mark marry matter means mother murder nature never night noble once OPHELIA Osric passion play PLAYER POLONIUS poor pray QUEEN rest revenge ROSENCRANTZ Second Clown seen sent Sings sleep soul speak speech spirit stand sweet sword tears tell thank thee There's thing thou thoughts tongue true walk watch What's
Сторінка 92 - 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.
Сторінка 65 - To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time.
Сторінка 48 - tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it is a prison.
Сторінка 65 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Сторінка 29 - 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 on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Сторінка 118 - Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio ; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is ! My gorge rises at it.
Сторінка 98 - What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ? Let him go, Gertrude ; do not fear our person ; There's such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but peep to what it would, Acts little of his will.
Сторінка 68 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword : The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers...
Сторінка 50 - 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 appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how infinite...