The play's the thing, Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. Act ii. Sc. 2. For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. Act ii. Sc. 2. With devotion's visage, And pious action, we do sugar o'er The devil himself. Act iii. Sc. I. To be, or not to be? that is the question :— To sleep! perchance, to dream :-ay, there's the rub; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, But that the dread of something after death-- And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered. Act iii. Sc. I. Act iii. Sc. I. Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. Act iii. Sc. I. Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Act iii. Sc. I. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! Act iii. Sc. I. The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, Act iii. Sc. I. Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Act iii. Sc. 1. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand. Act iii. Sc. 2. Tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings. Act iii. Sc. 2 It out-herods Herod. Act iii. Sc. 2. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action. Act iii. Sc. 2. To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature. I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. O, reform it altogether. Act iii. Sc. 2. Act iii. Sc. 2. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man Act iii. Sc. 2. No, let the candid tongue lick absurd pomp ; Act iii. Sc. 2. A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards Act iii. Sc. 2. They are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stops she please. Give me that man Act iii. Sc. 2. Here's metal more attractive. Act iii. Sc. 2. Nay, then let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of sables. Act iii. Sc. 2. This is miching mallecho; it means mischief. Act iii. Sc. 2. Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ham. As woman's love. Act iii. Sc. 2. The lady protests too much, methinks. Act iii. Sc. 2. Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung. Act iii. Sc. 2. Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep; "T is now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to the world. Act iii. Sc. 2. I will speak daggers to her, but use none. Act iii. Sc. 2. O my offence is rank, it smells to heaven. Act iii. Sc. 3. About some act, That has no relish of salvation in 't. Act iii. Sc. 3. False as dicers' oaths. Act iii. Sc. 4. Look here, upon this picture, and on this; Act iii. Sc. 4. A combination, and a form, indeed, Act iii. Sc. 4. At your age, The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble. And I the matter will re-word: which madness Would gambol from. Act iii. Sc. 4. |