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THE DIVINITY OF KINGS.
Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person;
How all occasions do inform against me,
To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be
Of thinking too precisely on the event,
A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom,
Sith|| I have cause, and will, and strength, and means,
When honour is at stake. How stand I then,
+ Power of comprehension.
And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
DESCRIPTION of ophelia's death.
Queen. There is a willow grows ascaunt the brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples*,
Or like a creature native and indu'd
Unto that element: but long it could not be,
*Orchis morto mas.
1 Clown. WHAT is he, that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter? 2 Clown. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.
1 Clown. I like thy wit well, in good faith; the gallows does well: But how does it well? it does well to those that do ill: now thou dost ill, to say, the gallows is built stronger than the church; argal, the gallows may do well to thee: To't again; comecudgel thy brains no more about it; for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating: and, when you are asked this question next, say, a grave-maker; the houses that he makes last till doomsday.
HAMLET'S REFLECTIONS ON YORICK'S SCULL.
Grave-digger. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! he poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same scull, sir, was Yorick's scull, the king's jester. [Takes the Scull.
Ham. This ?
Grave-digger. E'en that.
Ham. 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? 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.
Lay her i' the earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
This is mere madness:
And thus awhile the fit will work on him:
When that her golden couplets are disclos❜d †,
PROVIDENCE DIRECTS OUR ACTIONS.
And that should teach us,
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
Give me the cups;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth,
WAS born free as Cæsar; so were you: We both have fed as well; and we can both Endure the winter's cold, as well as he. For once, upon a raw and gusty* day, The troubled Tyber chafing with her shores, Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now, Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point? Upon the word, Accouter'd as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. The torrent roar'd; and we did buffet it With lusty sinews; throwing it aside And stemming it with hearts of controversy. But ere we could arrive the point propos'd, Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink.