With an auspicious and a dropping eye,1
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole.

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 2.

The head is not more native to the heart.

Ibid.

A little more than kin, and less than kind.
All that lives must die,

Ibid.

Passing through nature to eternity.

Ibid.

Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems.'

Ibid.

"T is not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black.

But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe. "T is a fault to heaven,

Ibid.

Ibid.

A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd.

Ibid.

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,

Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fixed

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Ibid.

That it should come to this!

Ibid.

Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

1 'one auspicious and one dropping eye,' Dyce, Singer, Staunton.

My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.

Ibid.

It is not nor it cannot come to good.

Ibid.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day.

Ibid.

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Ibid.

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

Ibid.

Season your admiration for a while.

Ibid.

In the dead vast and middle of the night.

Ibid.

Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe.1

Ibid.

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Ibid.

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Ibid.

Ham. His beard was grizzled, — no?

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve.

Ibid.

1 'Armed at all points,' Singer, White.

My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.

Ibid.

It is not nor it cannot come to good.

Ibid.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day.

Ibid.

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Ibid.

He was a man, take him for all in all,

>ne with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 2.

Act i. Sc. 3.

A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede.

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops1 of steel.

Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;

Ibid.

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man.

1 'hooks,' Singer.

Ibid.