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adds affection answer appears bear better blood body brother called cause character comes common dead dear death doth Duke Enter eyes fair fall father fear follow fool fortune give given grace Haml Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honour idea instances Johnson keep kind King lady LAER Laertes leave live look lord madness Malone manner marry matter means mind mother nature never night observes Ophelia passage person phrase play poor pray present quartos QUEEN question reason Rosalind says SCENE seems seen sense Shakespeare soul speak spirit stand Steevens sweet sword tell term thee thing thou thought Touch true turn write young youth
159. oldal - tis 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, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
93. oldal - Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will: My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow?
143. oldal - ... 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 ; make her laugh at that. — Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor.— What's that, my lord...
63. oldal - A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face ? Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, As deep as to the lungs?
114. oldal - The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
40. oldal - Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
93. oldal - I'll look up; My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder?' That cannot be; since I am still possess'd Of those effects for which I did the murder, My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. May one be pardon'd and retain the offence?
26. oldal - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.
64. oldal - I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
64. oldal - I know my course. 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.