Chapter 32
Act ii. Sc. 2.
The play's the thing, Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
To be, or not to be? that is the question: Whether 'tis n.o.bler in the mind, to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them?--To die--to sleep-- No more--and, by a sleep, to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to--'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die--to sleep-- To sleep! perchance, to dream--ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause.
The spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes; When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin. Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death-- The undiscovered country, from whose bourne No traveler returns--puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought.
Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thon shalt not escape calumny.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
The gla.s.s of fas.h.i.+on, and the mould of form, The observed of all observers!
Act iii. Sc. X.
Now see that n.o.ble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
It out-herods Herod.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
To hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp; And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, Where thrift may follow fawning.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Give me that man That is not pa.s.sion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of hearts, As I do thee.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Something too much of this.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Here's metal more attractive.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Let the galled jade wince, our withers are un-wrung.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep; Thus runs the world away.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
It will discourse most eloquent music.
Act iii. Sc. 2.
Very like a whale.