Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unused. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, So full of artless jealousy is guilt, Hamlet. Act iv. Sc. 4. Ibid. It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. Sc. 5. We know what we are, but know not what we may be. Ibid. To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime. Ibid. Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes. Ibid. Come, my coach! Good night, sweet ladies; good night. Ibid. When sorrows come, they come not single spies, Ibid. There's such divinity doth hedge a king, Nature is fine in love, and where 't is fine, Ibid. After the thing it loves. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; there is pansies, that's for thoughts. You must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy; I would give you some violets, but they withered. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow.1 Nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will. Hamlet. Act iv. Sc. 7. Ibid. 1 Clo. Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life. 2 Clo. But is this law? 1 Clo. Ay, marry, is 't; crowner's quest law. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners. Act v. Sc. 1. Has this fellow no feeling of his business? Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? Ibid. One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead. Ibid. How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. Ibid. The age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe. Ibid. 1 Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave. - HERRICK: Sorrows Succeed. Woes cluster; rare are solitary woes; They love a train, they tread each other's heel. YOUNG: Night Thoughts, night iïi. line 63. And woe succeeds to woe.— POPE: The Iliad, book xvi. line 139. Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now; your gambols, your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come. Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till we find it stopping a bung-hole? Ibid. 'T were to consider too curiously, to consider so. Ibid. Imperious Cæsar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. Ibid. I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid, Ibid. Though I am not splenitive and rash, Yet have I something in me dangerous. Ibid. Forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, 1 And from his ashes may be made TENNYSON: In Memoriam, xviii. 2 A ministering angel thou. -SCOTT: Marmion, canto vi. st. 30. Ibid. Nay, an thou 'lt mouth, I'll rant as well as thou. Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. Let Hercules himself do what he may, There's a divinity that shapes our ends, I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair. It did me yeoman's service. The bravery of his grief did put me Into a towering passion. What imports the nomination of this gentleman? Ibia. Sc. 2 Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we could carry cannon by our sides. 'Tis the breathing time of day with me. Ibid. Ibid. There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 't is not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all. Since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is 't to leave betimes? Ibid. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue As I am glad I have not. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides. Ibid. Ibid. As if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion. Sc. 2. That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. Sc. 4. Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend! Ibid. How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is Ibid. Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well. Ibid. Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow, Nature in you stands on the very verge Necessity's sharp pinch! Let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! Act ii. Sc. 4. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Act iii. Sc. 2. Ibid. |