Hamlet, Or, Shakespeare's Philosophy of History: A Study of the Spiritual Soul and Unity of Hamlet

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Williams and Norgate, 1875 - 208 pages

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Page 127 - into dust; the dust is earth ; of earth we make loam: and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel ? Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away : 0, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall to
Page 51 - Mar. 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: And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then uo planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So
Page 55 - Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd unfledged comrade.
Page 98 - Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines : there's rue for you; and here's some for me: we may call it herb-grace o' Sundays: 0, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died: they say he made a good end,—
Page 25 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That
Page 130 - Ere I could make a prologue to my brains, They had begun the play—I sat me down, Devised a new commission, wrote it fair; I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much How to forget that learning, but, sir, now It did me yeoman's service.
Page 37 - Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter; For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, To feed and clothe thee ? Why should the poor be flatter'd ? No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear
Page 90 - Oph. Say you ? nay, pray you, mark. [Sings] He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone. Queen. Nay, but, Ophelia,— Oph. Pray you, mark. [Sings] White his shroud as the mountain snow,— Enter King. Queen. Alas, look here, my lord.
Page 31 - We think not so, my lord. Ham. Why, then, 'tis none to you : for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it SO : to me it is a prison. Bos. Why then, your ambition makes it one ; 'tis too narrow for your mind. Ham. 0 God, I could be bounded in a nutshell,
Page 135 - Osr. . . . Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes ; believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent differences, of Very soft society and great showing: indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see.

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