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Hamlet 1
Quotes from Hamlet
| Question | Answer | Scene |
|---|---|---|
| 'Tis bitter cold | and I am sick at heart -Francisco | Act1 scene1 |
| What, has this | thing appeared again tonight? -Horatio | Act1 scene1 |
| 'tis but our | fantasy- Marcellus | Act1 scene1 |
| It harrows me | with fear and wonder.- Horatio | Act1 scene1 |
| Stay, speak, speak | I charge the speak! -Horatio | Act1 scene1 |
| He smote | the sledded Polacks -Horatio (in reference to King Hamlet, Hamlet's foil) | Act1 scene1 |
| martial | stalk-Marcellus | Act1 scene1 |
| This bodies some strange | euption to our state- Horatio (superstions of the period) | Act1 scene1 |
| Valiant | Hamlet | Act1 scene1 |
| young Fortinbras of unimproved | mettle, hot and full | Act1 scene1 |
| Julius fell | , The graves stood tennantless(allusion to ancient Rome, Julius was killed by traitors. Also was said that corpses rose from the dead. Obsession with hierarchy.) | Act1 scene1 |
| sometime sister, | now our queen | Act1 scene2 |
| Now follows | Moves on, giving a speech, doesn't pause | Act1 scene2 |
| pester us with a message | importing the surender of those lands lost by his father | Act1 scene2 |
| [Aside] A little more than kin, | and less than kind. | Act1 scene2 |
| I am too much | i'th'sun. | Act1 scene2 |
| inky | cloak | Act1 scene2 |
| suits of | solem black | Act1 scene2 |
| I have that within which passes show, | These are but the trappings and the suits of woe. | Act1 scene2 |
| unmanly | grief | Act1 scene2 |
| heart unfortified, | a mind impatient | Act1 scene2 |
| weary, stale, | flat and unprofitable | Act1 scene2 |
| tis and unweeded garden | that grow to seed; things rank and gross in nature possess it merely | Act1 scene2 |
| Frailty, | thy name is woman! | Act1 scene2 |
| A beast that wants | discourse of reason | Act1 scene2 |
| no more like my father | Than I to Hercules | Act1 scene2 |
| incestuous | sheets | Act1 scene2 |
| The funeral baked meats | did coldy furnish forth the marriage tables | Act1 scene2 |
| A countenance more in sorrow | than in anger | Act1 scene2 |
| give it and understanding | but no tongue | Act1 scene2 |
| My farther's spirit | -in arms! | Act1 scene2 |
| Hold it a fashion | and a toy in blood | Act1 scene3 |
| subject | to his birht | Act1 scene3 |
| Fear it, Ophelia, | fear it | Act1 scene3 |
| Do not as some ungracious | pastors do | Act1 scene3 |
| This above all: | to thine own self be true | Act1 scene3 |
| give every man thy ear, | but few thy voice | Act1 scene3 |
| You have taken these tenders for true pay | which are not stirling | Act1 scene3 |
| You'll tender | me a fool | Act1 scene3 |
| More honoured in breach | than the obsevance. | Act1 scene4 |
| They clepe | us drunkards | Act1 scene4 |
| spirit of health | or goblin damned | Act1 scene4 |
| I do not set my life | at a pin's fee | Act1 scene4 |
| He waxes desperate | with imagination | Act1 scene4 |
| Something is rotten | in the state of Denmark | Act1 scene4 |
| harrow up thy soul, | freeze thy young blood | Act1 scene5 |
| List,list, | oh, list! | Act1 scene5 |
| Revenge his fould | and most unnatural murder | Act1 scene5 |
| Haste me to know't, that I with wings as swift | As meditation or the thoughts of love May sweep to my revenge. | Act1 scene5 |
| The serpant that did sting thy father's life | Now wears his crown | Act1 scene5 |
| in the blossoms | of my sin | Act1 scene5 |
| A couch for luxury | and damned incest | Act1 scene5 |
| Remember thee? | Rhetoric, repeated, of course he will. | Act1 scene5 |
| Meet I set this down | That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain- | Act1 scene5 |
| These are but wild and | whirling words, my lord. | Act1 scene5 |
| Swear. | repeated | Act1 scene5 |
| There is more things in | heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. | Act1 scene5 |
| antic | disposition | Act1 scene5 |
| doubtful | phrase | Act1 scene5 |
| The time | is out of joint | Act1 scene5 |
| Oh, cursed spite, | That I was ever born to set it right! | Act1 scene5 |
| And how, and who, | what means, and where they keep | Act2 Scene1 |
| drinking, fencing, swearing | quarreling, drabbing-you may go so far | Act2 Scene1 |
| flash and outbreak | of a fiery mind- polonius of laertes | Act2 Scene1 |
| Wherefore | should you do this?-butting in | Act2 Scene1 |
| what was I | about to say? | Act2 Scene1 |
| or then, or then, | with such or such | Act2 Scene1 |
| Your bait of falsehood | takes this carp of truth | Act2 Scene1 |
| By indirections | find directions out | Act2 Scene1 |
| doublet | all unbraced | Act2 Scene1 |
| Pale | as his shirt | Act2 Scene1 |
| pietous | in purport | Act2 Scene1 |
| He took me by the wrist | and held me hard | Act2 Scene1 |
| he raised a sigh so pietous and profound | as it did seem to shatter all his bulk and end his being | Act2 Scene1 |
| He seemed | to find his way with out his eyes | Act2 Scene1 |
| This is the | very ecstasy of love | Act2 Scene1 |
| It is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinion | as it is for the younger sort to lack discretion | Act2 Scene1 |
| The need we have | to use you did provoke our hasty sending. | Act2 scene2 |
| no the'exterior nor | the inward man Resembles that it was | Act2 scene2 |
| So much from | th'understanding of himself | Act2 scene2 |
| To lay our service | freely at your feet | Act2 scene2 |
| My too much | changed son | Act2 scene2 |
| brevity is the | soul of wit | Act2 scene2 |
| More matter | with less art | Act2 scene2 |
| Why day is day, night | night, and time is time | Act2 scene2 |
| That he is mad 'tis true; tis true | 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true | Act2 scene2 |
| in her | excellent white bosom | Act2 scene2 |
| doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, | doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love. | Act2 scene2 |
| I love thee best, | oh, most best, believe it | Act2 scene2 |
| To be honest, as this world goes, | is to be one picked out of ten thousand. | Act2 scene2 |
| the sun | breed maggots in a dead dog | Act2 scene2 |
| Though this be madness, | yet there is method in't | Act2 scene2 |
| I will not more willingly part withal- | except my life, except my life, except my life. | Act2 scene2 |
| Then you live about her waist, | or in the middle of her favours? | Act2 scene2 |
| I hold of ambition so airy and light a quality | that it is but a shadow's shadow. | Act2 scene2 |
| Then are our begars bodies, and our | monarchs and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. | Act2 scene2 |
| What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, | in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like and angel, in apprehension how like a god: | Act2 scene2 |
| Man delights not me- | No, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so | Act 2 scene2 |
| Black as | his purpose | Act 2 scene2 |
| And all for nothing! | For Hecuba! | Act 2 scene2 |
| the devil hath power | T'assume a pleasing shape | Act 2 scene2 |
| The play's the thing | wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. | Act 2 scene2 |
| crafty madness | keeps him aloof | Act3 scene1 |
| some | confession | Act3 scene1 |
| forcing of | his disposition | Act3 scene1 |
| I do wish That your good beauties | be the happy cause Of Hamlet's wildness | Act3 scene1 |
| devotion's visage and pious action | we do sugar o'er The devil himself | Act3 scene1 |
| How smart a lash that speech | doth give my conscience! | Act3 scene1 |
| Oh heavy | burden! | Act3 scene1 |
| To be, or not to be | that is the question: | Act3 scene1 |
| slings and arrows | of outrageous fortune | Act3 scene1 |
| To die, to sleep; To sleep perchance to dream- | ay, there's the rub: For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, | Act3 scene1 |
| For in that sleep of death | what dreams may come, | Act3 scene1 |
| The undoscovered country, | from whose bourn No traveller returns | Act3 scene1 |
| rather bear those ills we have | Act3 scene1 | |
| The fair | Ophelia! | Act3 scene1 |
| Ha, ha! | Are you honest? | Act3 scene1 |
| power of beauty will sooner transform | honesty from what it is to a bawd | Act3 scene1 |
| I did | love you once | Act3 scene1 |
| I loved | you not | Act3 scene1 |
| Get thee to a nunnery. | Why, wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? | Act3 scene1 |
| proud, revengedul, | ambitious | Act3 scene1 |
| arrant | knaves | Act3 scene1 |
| he may play the fool | nowhere but in's own house | Act3 scene1 |
| Heavenly powers, | restore him! | Act3 scene1 |
| God hath given you one face | and you make yourselves another. | Act3 scene1 |
| Those that are married already, | all but one, shall live; | Act3 scene1 |
| coutiers, soldier's, scholar's, | eye, tongue, sword, | Act3 scene1 |
| glass | of fashion | Act3 scene1 |
| Like sweet bells | jangled out of tune and harsh, | Act3 scene1 |
| Madness in geat ones | must not unwatched go. | Act3 scene1 |
| trippingly | on the tongue | Act3 scene2 |
| let your own discretion | be your tutor | Act3 scene2 |
| 'twere the mirror up to nature; | to show virtue her feature, scorn her own image | Act3 scene2 |
| imitated humanity | so abominably | Act3 scene2 |
| not a pipe | for Fortune's finger | Act3 scene2 |
| Give me a man | that is not passion's slave | Act3 scene2 |
| Something | too much of this. | Act3 scene2 |
| I eat the air, | promise-crammed | Act3 scene2 |
| Country | matters | Act3 scene2 |
| Metal | mor attractive | Act3 scene2 |
| or any show | that you will show him | Act3 scene2 |
| You are naught, | you are naught | Act3 scene2 |
| 'Tis brief my lord. | As woman's love. | Act3 scene2 |
| Such love must needs be | treason in my breast | Act3 scene2 |
| what we do determine, | oft we break | Act3 scene2 |
| The lady doth protest | too much, methinks | Act3 scene2 |
| I could interpret between you and | your love if I could see the puppets dallying | Act3 scene2 |
| Thoughts black, hands apt, | dugs fit, and time agreeing | Act3 scene2 |
| Give me some light. | Away. | Act3 scene2 |
| let the strucken | deer go weep, | Act3 scene2 |
| A very, | very- pajock. | Act3 scene2 |
| I'll take the ghost's word | for a thousand pound | Act3 scene2 |
| marvellous | distempered | Act3 scene2 |
| while the grass grows- | the proverb is something musty | Act3 scene2 |
| how unworhty a thing you make of me. | You would play upon me | Act3 scene2 |
| Why, do you think i am | easier to be played on than a pipe? | Act3 scene2 |
| Like a; | camel, weasel, whale (polonius agrees withall) | Act3 scene2 |
| witching | time | Act3 scene2 |
| I drink | hot blood | Act3 scene2 |
| I will speak daggers | to her, but use none. | Act3 scene2 |
| majesty dies not alone, but like a | gulf doth draw What's near it with it. | Act3 scene3 |
| Never alone did the King | sigh, but with general groan. | Act3 scene3 |
| my offence is rank, | it smells to high heaven | Act3 scene3 |
| primal | elsdest curse upon't A brother's muder! | Act3 scene3 |
| Though inclination | be as sharp as will | Act3 scene3 |
| My crown, | mine own ambition, and my queen. | Act3 scene3 |
| Oh bosom | black as death! | Act3 scene3 |
| Bow, | stubborn knees; | Act3 scene3 |
| hire and salary, | not revenge | Act3 scene3 |
| crimes broad blown, | as flush as May | Act3 scene3 |
| drunk asleep, or in his rage, | O in th'inscestuous pleasure of his bed | Act3 scene3 |
| his heels may kick at heaven | and that his soul may be as damned and black as hell | Act3 scene3 |
| My words fly up, my thoughts remain below, | words without thoughts never to heaven go. | Act3 scene3 |
| Grace hath screened and stood | between muc heat and him | Act3 scene4 |
| father much | offended | Act3 scene4 |
| your husband's brother's wife, | and, would it were not so, you are my mother. | Act3 scene4 |
| I set you up a glass | Where you may see the inmost part of you. | Act3 scene4 |
| Almost as bad, good mother, | As kill a king and marry with his bother. | Act3 scene4 |
| damned | custom | Act3 scene4 |
| makes marriage vows | as false as dicers' oaths. | Act3 scene4 |
| What act that roasrs so loud | and thunders in the index? | Act3 scene4 |
| An eye like Mars, | to threaten and command | Act3 scene4 |
| mildewed | ear | Act3 scene4 |
| Have you | eyes? | Act3 scene4 |
| Eyes withot feeling, feeling withoug sight, | Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, | Act3 scene4 |
| Oh shame, | where is thy blush? | Act3 scene4 |
| Stewed in corruption, | honeying and making love Over the nasty sty! | Act3 scene4 |
| These wrds like | daggers enter in my ears. | Act3 scene4 |
| That from a shel the precious | diadem stoe and put it in his pocket | Act3 scene4 |
| tardy son | to chide? | Act3 scene4 |
| dread | command? | Act3 scene4 |
| This visitation Is but to | whet thy almost blunted purpose. | Act3 scene4 |
| with th'incorporal | Act3 scene4 | |
| My pulse as your doth | temperately keep time, and makes as healthful music | Act3 scene4 |
| rank corruption, mining within, | infects unseen | Act3 scene4 |
| do not spread the compost | on the weeds to make them ranker | Act3 scene4 |
| cleft my | heart in twain | Act3 scene4 |
| go not | to my uncle's bed | Act3 scene4 |
| I must be cruel | only to be kind. | Act3 scene4 |
| Let the bloat King | tempt you again to bed | Act3 scene4 |
| pair of | reechy kisses | Act3 scene4 |
| damned | fingers | Act3 scene4 |
| I essentially am not | in madness, but mad in craft | Act3 scene4 |
| fair, | sober, wise | Act3 scene4 |
| if words be made of breath, and breath of life, | I have no life to breathe | Act3 scene4 |
| I will trust as | I will adders fanged | Act3 scene4 |
| the engineer hoist | with his own petard | Act3 scene4 |
| most | grave | Act3 scene4 |
| There's matter in these sighs, | these profound heaves You must translate. | Act4 scene1 |
| Mad as the sea and wind | when both contend which is mightier. | Act4 scene1 |
| His liberty is full of threats to all- | To you yourself, to us, to everyone. | Act4 scene1 |
| Should have kept short, restrained, | and out of haunt This mad young man. | Act4 scene1 |
| like the owner of a fould disease, | to keep it from divulging, let it feed even on the pith of life. | Act4 scene1 |
| his poisoned shot, | may miss our name | Act4 scene1 |
| My soul is full | of discord and dismay | Act4 scene1 |
| a sponge | calls Rosencrantz | Act4 scene2 |
| soaks up the King's countenance, | his rewards, his authorities. | Act4 scene2 |
| first mouthed, | to be last swallowed | Act4 scene2 |
| but squeezing you and, | sponge, you shall be dry again. | Act4 scene2 |
| A knavish speech sleeps | in a foolish ear. | Act4 scene2 |
| He's love of the | most distracted multitude, | Act4 scene3 |
| At | supper | Act4 scene3 |
| Not where he eat's, | but where he is eaten. | Act4 scene3 |
| politic | worms | Act4 scene3 |
| Your worm is your | only emperor for diet | Act4 scene3 |
| two dishes, | but to one table. | Act4 scene3 |
| you shall nose him | as you go up the stairs into the lobby | Act4 scene3 |
| fiery | quickness | Act4 scene3 |
| if thou knew'st | our purposes. | Act4 scene3 |
| By letter conjuring to that effect, | The present death of Hamlet. | Act4 scene3 |
| for like the hectic in | my blood he rages | Act4 scene3 |
| Go, | captain | Act4 scene4 |
| Tell | him | Act4 scene4 |
| We go to gain a little patch of ground | That hath in it no profit but the name. | Act4 scene4 |
| How all occasions do inform against me, | And spur my dull reveng! | Act4 scene4 |
| What is a man If his chief good and market | of his time be but to sleep and feed? | Act4 scene4 |
| delicat and | tender prince | Act4 scene4 |
| what is mortal and unsure To all tht fortune, | death, and danger dare, even for an eggshell. | Act4 scene4 |
| find quarrel | in a straw when honours at the stake. | Act4 scene4 |
| Oh, from this time forth | My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth. | Act4 scene4 |
| Spurns enviously | at straws: | Act4 scene4 |
| He is dead | and gone | Act4 scene5 |
| his head a | grass-green turf | Act4 scene5 |
| Let in the maid that | out a maid Never departed more. | Act4 scene5 |
| By Cock, | they are to blame. | Act4 scene5 |
| Come, | my coach. | Act4 scene5 |
| When sorrows come, they come not single spies, | but in battalions | Act4 scene5 |
| we are pictures, | or mere beasts; | Act4 scene5 |
| riotous | head | Act4 scene5 |
| That drop of blood that's calm | proclaims me bastard, cries cuckold to my father | Act4 scene5 |
| Why art thou | thus incensed | Act4 scene5 |
| To hell, aalegiance! | Vows to the blackest devil! | Act4 scene5 |
| I'll be revenged | Most throughly for my death. | Act4 scene5 |
| guiltess of | your father's death | Act4 scene5 |
| oh heat, | dry up my brains! | Act4 scene5 |
| young maid's wits Should | be as mortal as an old man's life? | Act4 scene5 |
| some violets, but they withered | all when my father died. | Act4 scene5 |
| thought and affliction, passion, | hell itself she turns to favour and to prettiness. | Act4 scene5 |
| Do you | see this, oh God? | Act4 scene5 |
| patience............jointly labour with your | soul To give it due content | Act4 scene5 |
| No trophy, sword, | nor hatchment o'er his bones, no noble rite, no formal ostentaion- | Act4 scene5 |
| where th'offence is, | let the great axe fall. | Act4 scene5 |
| She's so conjunctive | to my life and soul | Act4 scene7 |
| to a | public count | Act4 scene7 |
| like the spring that | turneth wood to stone | Act4 scene7 |
| gyves | to graces | Act4 scene7 |
| my arrows, too slightly timbered for | so loud a wind, would have reverted to my bow again | Act4 scene7 |
| noble | father | Act4 scene7 |
| no wind of | blame shall breathe | Act4 scene7 |
| pluck such | envy | Act4 scene7 |
| envenom with | his envy | Act4 scene7 |
| painting of sorrow, | A face without a heart? | Act4 scene7 |
| There lives within the very flame of love | A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it | Act4 scene7 |
| To cut his | throat i'th'church. | Act4 scene7 |
| Revenge should | have no bounds | Act4 scene7 |
| One woe doth | tread upon another's heel, | Act4 scene7 |
| Drowned? | Oh, where? | Act4 scene7 |
| like a creature native | and indued Unto that element | Act4 scene7 |
| heavy with | their drink | Act4 scene7 |
| Alas, then | she is drowned | Act4 scene7 |
| Too much of water hast thou, | poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears | Act4 scene7 |
| nature her custom holds, | Let shame say what it will | Act4 scene7 |
| I have a speech o'fire that | fain would blaze But that this folly douts it. | Act4 scene7 |
| wilfully seeks | her own salvation? | Act5 scene1 |
| If this had not been a | gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'Christian burial. | Act5 scene1 |
| the more pity that great folk | should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even | Act5 scene1 |
| What is he that builds stronger than either | the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter? | Act5 scene1 |
| The gallows-maker, for that frame | outlives a thousand tenants. | Act5 scene1 |
| 'A grave-maker.' The houses he makes | lasts till doomsday. | Act5 scene1 |
| Has this fellow no feeling | of his business that he sings in grave-making? | Act5 scene1 |
| jowls it to the ground, as if'twere Cain's | jawbone, that did the first murder! | Act5 scene1 |
| Lady | Worm's | Act5 scene1 |
| I think it be thine indeed, | for thou liest in't. | Act5 scene1 |
| Why was he | sent into England? | Act5 scene1 |
| He shall recover his wits there. | Or if he do not, 'tis no great matter there. | Act5 scene1 |
| There the men are | as mad as he. | Act5 scene1 |
| How long will a | man lie i'th'earth ere he rot? | Act5 scene1 |
| Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of | infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. | Act5 scene1 |
| Whee be your gibes now, your gambolss, your songs, | your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? | Act5 scene1 |
| let her paint and inch thick, | to this favour she must come. | Act5 scene1 |
| Imperial Caeser, dead and turned to clay, | Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. | Act5 scene1 |
| From her fair and unpolluted flesh | May violets spring. | Act5 scene1 |
| A minist'ring angel shall my sister be | When thou liest howling. | Act5 scene1 |
| Sweets to | the sweet | Act5 scene1 |
| I thought they bride- | bed to have decked | Act5 scene1 |
| pile your dust upon | the quick and dead | Act5 scene1 |
| The devil | take thy soul! | Act5 scene1 |
| I am not splenative and rash, | Yet ave i in me something dangerous, | Act5 scene1 |
| I loved | Ophelia. | Act5 scene1 |
| Forty thousand brothers could not with all | their quantity of love Make up my sum. | Act5 scene1 |
| Woo't weep, woo't fight, | woo't fast, woo't tear thyself, woo't drink up eisel, eat a crcodile? | Act5 scene1 |
| Dost come here | to whine, | Act5 scene1 |
| Make Ossa | like a wart! | Act5 scene1 |
| Let Hercules himself do what he may, | The cat will mew, and dog will have his day. | Act5 scene1 |
| Strengthen | your patience | Act5 scene1 |
| Present | push | Act5 scene1 |
| kind of fighting that | would not let me sleep. | Act5 scene2 |
| There's a divinity that shapes our ends, | Rough-hew them how we will. | Act5 scene2 |
| they did make | love to this employment. | Act5 scene2 |
| killed my king | and whored my mother, | Act5 scene2 |
| a man's life's no | more than to say 'one'. | Act5 scene2 |
| the bravery of his grief did put | me into a towering passion. | Act5 scene2 |
| It is indifferent | cold, my lord, indeed. | Act5 scene2 |
| Exceedingly, my lord, | it is very sultry- | Act5 scene2 |
| of very soft society | and great showing | Act5 scene2 |
| all's golden | words are spent | Act5 scene2 |
| but to know a man well | were to know himself. | Act5 scene2 |
| I will gain nothing | but my shame and the odd hits | Act5 scene2 |
| I am constant | to my purposes | Act5 scene2 |
| ill all's here | about my heart | Act5 scene2 |
| a kind of gainsgiving | as would perhaps troubl a woman | Act5 scene2 |
| There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, | '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. | Act5 scene2 |
| Never | Hamlet. | Act5 scene2 |
| Who does it then? | His madness. | Act5 scene2 |
| Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged; | His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy. | Act5 scene2 |
| I have shot my arrow | o'er the house and hurt my brother. | Act5 scene2 |
| I am satisfied in nature, Whose motive | in this case should stir me most to my revenger; | Act5 scene2 |
| elder | masters | Act5 scene2 |
| your offered love | like love and will not wrong it. | Act5 scene2 |
| skill shall like a star i'th'darkest | night stick fiery off indeed. | Act5 scene2 |
| The cannons to the heavens, | the heavens to earth | Act5 scene2 |
| Here's to thy | health | Act5 scene2 |
| And yet it is almost | against my conscience. | Act5 scene2 |
| woodcock to mine | on springe | Act5 scene2 |
| No, no, | the drink, the drink! | Act5 scene2 |
| It is here, Hamlet. | Hamlet thou art slain. | Act5 scene2 |
| The King- | the Kings's to blame. | Act5 scene2 |
| Tehn, venom, | to thy work. | Act5 scene2 |
| thou inscestuous, murd'rous, | damned Dane, Drink off this potion. | Act5 scene2 |
| Mine and my father's death | come not upont thee, Nor thine on me. | Act5 scene2 |
| Heaven make | thee free of it. | Act5 scene2 |
| Death, Is | strict in his arrest | Act5 scene2 |
| I am mor antique | Roman than a Dane. | Act5 scene2 |
| in this harsh world draw thy | breath in pain to tell my story. | Act5 scene2 |
| Exchange | forgivness | Act5 scene2 |
| potent poison | quite o'ercrows my spirit. | Act5 scene2 |
| -the rest | is silence. | Act5 scene2 |
| He has my | dying voice. | Act5 scene2 |
| Now cracks | a noble heart. | Act5 scene2 |
| sweet prince, and flights of | angels sing thee to they rest! | Act5 scene2 |
| woe or wonder, | cease your search. | Act5 scene2 |
| So shall you hear of carnal, bloody,and unnatural acts, | of accidental judgements, casual slaughters, of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, | Act5 scene2 |
| with sorrow | I embrace my fortune. | Act5 scene2 |
| Bear Hamlet like a | soldier to the stage, | Act5 scene2 |
| proved | most royal | Act5 scene2 |
| soldier's music | and the rite of war | Act5 scene2 |
| Such a sight as this | becomes the field | Act5 scene2 |
| Go, bid | the soldiers shoot. | Act5 scene2 |
| With mirth in funeral | and dirge in marriage | Act1 scene2 |
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FeverForever92
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