Hamlet - Continued. Act iii. Sc. 2. I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. Act iii. Sc. 2. Act iii. Sc. 2. Give me that man Act iii. Sc. 2. Act iii. Sc. 2. Here's metal more attractive. Act iii. Sc. 2. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. Act iii. Sc. 2. Act iii. Sc. 2. Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play ; Thus runs the world away. Hamlet - Continued. Act iii. Sc. 2. It will discourse most eloquent music Act iii. Sc. 2. Very like a whale. Act iii. Sc. 2. They fool me to the top of my bent. Act iii. Sc. 2. Act iii. Sc. 3. Act iii. Sc. 4. Look here, upon this picture, and on this; eye like Mars, to threaten and command. A combination, and a form, indeed, Act iii. Sc. 4. A king Of shreds and patches. Act iii. Sc. 4. This is the very coinage of your brain. Hamlet - Continued. Act iii. Sc. 4. Act iii. Sc. 4. Assume a virtue, if you have it not. Act iii. Sc. 4. Act iv. Sc. 4. Looking before, and after. Act iv. Sc. 5. Act iv. Sc. 5. Act v. Sc. 1. How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card or equivocation will undo us. Act v. Sc. 1. Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio : a fellow of infinite jest; of most excellent fancy. Act v. Sc. 1. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Hamlet - Continued. Act v. Sc. 1. ' Act v. Sc. 1. Imperial Cæsar, dead, and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. Act v. Sc. 1. Act v. Sc. 1. Act v. Sc. 2. There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. Act v. Sc. 2. There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. Act v. Sc. 2. A hit, a very palpable hit. OTHELLO. Act i. Sc. 1. But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at. Act i. Sc. 3. Othello - Continued. Act i. Sc. 3. Act i. Sc. 3. Act i. Sc. 3. Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents, by flood and field, Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach. Act i. Sc. 3. My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, In faith, ’t was strange, ’t was passing strange ; ' ’T was pitiful, ’t was wondrous pitiful: She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished That Heaven bad made her such a man. Act i. Sc. 3. Act i. Sc. 3. I do perceive here a divided duty. Act i. Sc. 3. Put money in thy purse. Act ii. Sc. 1. For I am nothing, if not critical. |