Shakespeare's Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

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Roycroft Shop, 1902 - 172 pagina's

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Pagina 103 - O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, And melt in her own fire...
Pagina 49 - My liege, and madam, — to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief...
Pagina 76 - 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?
Pagina 22 - Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Pagina 172 - And let me speak, to the yet unknowing world, How these things came about: So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts; Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters; Of deaths put on by cunning, and forc'd cause ; And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can I Truly deliver.
Pagina 7 - It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Pagina 68 - Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? Ha! Swounds, I should take it, for it cannot be But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this slave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!
Pagina 94 - 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...
Pagina 66 - 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...
Pagina 14 - That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month — Let me not think on 't — Frailty, thy name is - woman ! — A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears, — why she, even she — O God ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason...

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