Hamlet: 9 Gertrude (Ophelia funeral)

What, the fair Ophelia! Sweets to the sweet; farewell! I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet’s wife; I thought thy bride-bed to have deck’d, sweet maid, and not have strew’d thy grave.
The devil take thy soul! Hamlet? Hamlet!
Why I will fight with him upon this theme until my eyelids will no longer wag. O my son, what theme?
I loved Ophelis: forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum. This is mere madness: and thus the fit will work on him.

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