Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at; his right cheek Reposing on a cushion. Gui. Arv. Where? O' the floor; His arms thus leagued: I thought, heslept ; and put My clouted brogues* from off my feet, whose rudeness Answer'd my steps too loud. Gui. Why he but sleeps: If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed; Arv. Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie * * Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less: for Cloten Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys: And, though he came our enemy, remember, He was paids for that: though mean and mighty, rotting Together, have one dust yet reverence (That angel of the world) doth make distinction *Shoes plated with iron. The red-breast. Probably a corrupt term for wither round thy corse. § Punished. Pray you, fetch him hither. Gui. Funeral Dirge. Gui. Fear no more the heat o' the sun, As chimney sweepers, come to dust. Arv. Fear no more the frown o' the great, Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Consignt to thee, and come to dust. Imogen awaking. Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven ; Which is the way? * Judgment. Seal the same contract. I thank you. By yon bush?-Pray, how far thither? 'Ods pittikins !*--can it be six miles yet? I have gone all night:-'faith, I'll lie down and sleep. And cook to honest creatures: but 'tis not so; 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 wings destitute, the army broken, And but the backs of Briton's seen, all flying Through a straight 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, *This diminutive adjuration is derived from God's my 1 Blocked up. pity. An arrow. 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 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 palmy* state of Rome, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead * As, stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,+ Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands, Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. Ghosts vanish at the Crowing of a Cock Ber. It was about to speak when the cock crew. Hor. And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. Í have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring‡ spirit hies To his confine and of the truth herein This present object made probation.§ The Reverence paid to Christmas Time. It faded on the crowing of the cock. * Victorious. + The moon. + Wandering. § Proof. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Morning. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. 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 forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows 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. Immoderate Grief discommended. "Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father: To do obsequious sorrow: But to persevere |