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beseech Bian blood Brabantio Cassio Clown Cyprus daughter dead dear death Denmark Desdemona devil dost thou doth Duke Emilia Enter hamlet Enter othello Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Farewell father fear fool Fortinbras fortune foul gentlemen Ghost give grace grief Guil hand handkerchief hath hear heart heaven hither hold honest honor Horatio husband Iago kill'd King knave l Clown lady Laer Laertes lago lieutenant look madam madness marry matter Michael Cassio mistress Moor mother murder nature never night noble Norway o'er Ophelia Osric play players poison'd Polonius Pr'ythee pray Pyrrhus Queen revenge Roderigo Rosencrantz and Guildenstern SCENE signior sings soul speak speech sweet sword tell thee thine thing thou art thou dost thou hast thought to-night tongue trumpet twas Venice villain what's wife Zounds
Page 80 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Page 16 - It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes ', nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Page 63 - O God, I could be bounded in a nut-shell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
Page 39 - 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.
Page 75 - I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : — Now I am alone. 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, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ?...
Page 65 - ... this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a steril 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.
Page 85 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
Page 101 - 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.
Page 31 - 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.
Page 126 - Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, When honour's at the stake.