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bear beauty better blood breath bring Cassio cause comes daughter dead dear death desire dost doth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair fall false father fear fire follow fool fortune foul give gone grace grief Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honour hour I'll Iago keep Kent kind king lady Lear leave light lips live look lord marry matter means mind nature never night Nurse once play poor pray Queen reason Romeo SCENE seems seen sense shame sorrow soul speak stand sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought tongue true turn wife wind young
284 psl. - And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
283 psl. - O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumbshows and noise : I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant ; it outherods Herod : pray you, avoid it.
275 psl. - What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears.
249 psl. - I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
61 psl. - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
102 psl. - Ah, do not, when my heart hath scap'd this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe ; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purpos'd overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come : so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune's might ; And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compar'd with loss of thee will not seem so.
149 psl. - tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres, till they return.
17 psl. - This is the excellent foppery of the world ! that when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeit of our own behaviour), we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars : as if we were villains by necessity ; fools, by heavenly compulsion ; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance ; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence ; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on.
337 psl. - 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...