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action affection alluding amidst ancient appearance attention beauty becomes breast called cause character circumstances conduct connected considered contemplating dead death deep deeply disposition drama drawn excited existence expression father fear feelings felt genius ghost given giving grave guided Hamlet heart Henry Horatio human imagination immortal impressed influence insanity intellectual interest justly King knowledge known Laertes language late leads letter look madness mankind manner mark meet melancholy mind moral mother murder nature never noble Note object observation offered Ophelia opinion Page passions perhaps period philosophic play poet Polonius possessed powers present prevails Prince production profound prove Queen reflections regarding relating remarkable rendered revenge sadness says scene sentiments Shakspere Shakspere's soliloquy soul spirit suicide thought tion true truly whilst writer young youth
Side 21 - I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation ; nor the musician's which is fantastical ; nor the courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious ; nor the lawyer's, which is politic ; nor the lady's, which is nice ; nor the lover's, which is all these...
Side 38 - 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 ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Side 32 - 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!
Side 9 - Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not 'seems.' 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black...
Side 73 - ild you! They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord! we know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Side 27 - The spirit that I have seen May be the devil : and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, — As he is very potent with such spirits, — Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds More relative than this: — the play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Side 35 - And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear ? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for herself...
Side 22 - 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...
Side 65 - Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Side 47 - Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them: There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke, When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook.