Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare Act 5, Sc. 3, 1. 23.

not.

MACBETH.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?

MACBETH.

Act 5, Sc. 3, l. 40.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Act 5, Sc. 5, l. 18.

MACBETH.

Lay on, Macduff;

66

And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold,

enough!"

Act 5, Sc. 8, 1. 33.

ROSSE.

Your cause of sorrow

Must not be measured by his worth, for then

It hath no end.

Act 5, Sc. 8, l. 47.

HAMLET.

HORATIO.

But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
Act 1, Sc. 1, l. 165.

HAMLET.

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, shapes of grief,
That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within which passeth show,
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Act 1, Sc. 2, l. 75.

HAMLET.

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 '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! 't is an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in

nature,

Possess it merely.

Act 1, Sc. 2, l. 129.

HAMLET.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Ere ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

LAERTES.

Act 1, Sc. 2, l. 180.

The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon.

OPHELIA.

Act 1, Sc. 3, 1. 36.

But, good my brother,

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,
Whiles like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede.

POLONIUS.

Act 1, Sc. 3, l. 46.

Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar:
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Be-

ware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear 't, that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man th' ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judg-

ment.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;

And they in France of the best rank and station
Are most select and generous in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all, to thine own self be true;

And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

OPHELIA.

Act 1, Sc. 3, l. 59.

'Tis in my memory lock'd,

And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

POLONIUS.

Act 1, Sc. 3, l. 85.

You speak like a green girl,

Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.

Ay, marry, is 't:

HAMLET.

Act 1, Sc. 3, l. 101.

But to my mind, - though I am native here,
And to the manner born, it is a custom

More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
This heavy-headed revel, east and west,

Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations: They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and, indeed, it takes

From our achievements, though perform'd at height,

The pith and marrow of our attribute.

So, oft it chances in particular men,

That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
As in their birth, wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin,
By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners; - that these

men,

Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,

Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,
Their virtues else be they as pure as grace,
As infinite as man may undergo

Shall in the general censure take corruption
From that particular fault: the dram of evil
Doth all the noble substance oft adulter

To his own scandal.

HAMLET.

Act 1, Sc. 4, l. 14.

Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd,
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from
hell,

Be thy intents wicked, or charitable,

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape,

That I will speak to thee.

MARCELLUS.

Act 1, Sc. 4, l. 39.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

Act 1, Sc. 4, l. 90.

GHOST.

But that I am forbid