The Subjection of Hamlet: An Essay Toward Explanation of the Motives of Thought and Action of Shakespeare's Prince of Denmark

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J.B. Lippincott & Company, 1882 - 74 pagina's

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Pagina 74 - 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, quite, quite down!
Pagina 71 - Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world : now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
Pagina 68 - Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
Pagina 53 - Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep: So runs the world away.
Pagina 28 - 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.
Pagina 59 - They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery: Let it work; For 'tis the sport, to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar...
Pagina 34 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes 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 passes show— These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Pagina 34 - Seems, madam! Nay, it is; I know not ' seems. ' 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms...
Pagina 23 - Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.
Pagina 57 - 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.

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