And, though he came our enemy, remember, Pray you, fetch him hither. Thersites' body is as good as Ajax, When neither are alive. FUNERAL DIRGE. Nor the furious winter's rages; Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; To thee the reed is as the oak: All follow this, and come to dust. Consigns to thee, and come to dust. And renowned be thy grave ! * Punished. + Judgment. # Seal the same contract. ACT V. A ROUTED ARMY. No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost, But that the heavens fought: The king himself Of his gs destitute, the army broken, And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying Through a strait lane ; the enemy full-hearted, Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work More plentiful than tools to do’t, struck down Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling Merely through fear; that the straight pass was damm'd * With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living To die with lengthen’d shame. DEATH. I, in mine own woe charm’d, Could not find death, where I did hear him groan ; Nor feel him, where he struck: Being an ugly monster, 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we That draw his knives i’ the war. Hamlet. ACT I. PRODIGIES. In the most high and palmyt state of Rome, * Blocked up + Victorious. As, stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, GHOSTS VANISH AT THE CROWING OF A COCK. Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing THE REVERENCE PAID TO CHRISTMAS-TIME. It faded on the crowing of the cock. MORNING. REAL GRIEF. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone, my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, * The moon. + Wandering. # Proof. That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, IMMODERATE GRIEF DISCOMMENDED. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, HamTo give these mourning duties to your father: [let, But, you must know, your father lost a father; That father lost his; and the survivor bound In filial obligation, for some term To do obsequious sorrow: But to persevere In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornuess; 'tis unmanly grief: It shows a will most incorrect to heaven; A heart unfortified, or mind impatient; An understanding simple and unschool'd : For what, we know, must be, and is as common, As any the most vulgar thing to sense, Why should we, in our peevish opposition, Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, To reason most absurd; whose common theme Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, From the first corse, till he that died to-day, This must be so. HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON HIS MOTHER'S MARRIAGE. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw, and resolve* itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon f’gainst self-slaughter! O, God! O, God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature, Possess it merely 1. That it should come to this! But two months dead !-nay, not so much, not two: * Dissolve. + Law. # Entirely. So excellent a king; that was, to this, CAUTIONS TO YOUNG FEMALES. Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, Believing. |