Hamlet Quotes Quiz Act 4

Truly to speak, and with no addition,We go to gain a little patch of groundThat hath in it no profit but the name.To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it.Nor will it yield to Norway or the PoleA ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. CaptainTo Hamlet
How all occasions do inform against me,And spur my dull revenge! What is a manIf his chief good and market of his timeBe but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,Looking before and after, gave us notThat capability and godlike reasonTo fust in us unused. Now, whether it beBestial oblivion, or some craven scrupleOf thinking too precisely on th’ event—A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdomAnd ever three parts coward—I do not knowWhy yet I live to say “This thing’s to do,”Sith I have cause and will and strength and meansTo do ‘t. Examples gross as earth exhort me.Witness this army of such mass and chargeLed by a delicate and tender prince,Whose spirit with divine ambition puffedMakes mouths at the invisible event,Exposing what is mortal and unsureTo all that fortune, death, and danger dare,Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be greatIs not to stir without great argument,But greatly to find quarrel in a strawWhen honor’s at the stake. How stand I then,That have a father killed, a mother stained,Excitements of my reason and my blood,And let all sleep—while, to my shame, I seeThe imminent death of twenty thousand men,That for a fantasy and trick of fameGo to their graves like beds, fight for a plotWhereon the numbers cannot try the cause,Which is not tomb enough and continentTo hide the slain? Oh, from this time forth,My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Hamlet Soliloquy
“Horatio, When thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king. They have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valor, and in the grapple I boarded them. On the instant, they got clear of our ship, so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy, but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them.Let the king have the letters I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb, yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England. Of them I have much to tell thee. Fare-well. He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet.” HoratioWritten by Hamlet
Oh, for two special reasons,Which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed,But yet to me they are strong. The queen his motherLives almost by his looks, and for myself—My virtue or my plague, be it either which—She’s so conjunctive to my life and soul,That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,I could not but by her. The other motiveWhy to a public count I might not go,Is the great love the general gender bear him,Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,Convert his gyves to graces—so that my arrows,Too slightly timbered for so loud a wind,Would have reverted to my bow again,And not where I had aimed them. ClauduisTo Laertes
And so have I a noble father lost,A sister driven into desperate terms,Whose worth, if praises may go back again,Stood challenger on mount of all the ageFor her perfections. But my revenge will come. Laertes To Claudius
“High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked on your kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes, when I shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden and more strange return. Hamlet.” ClaudiusWritten by HamletRead to Laertes
O heavy deed!It had been so with us, had we been there.His liberty is full of threats to all—To you yourself, to us, to everyone.Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answered?It will be laid to us, whose providenceShould have kept short, restrained and out of haunt,This mad young man. But so much was our love,We would not understand what was most fit,But, like the owner of a foul disease,To keep it from divulging, let it feedEven on the pith of life. Where is he gone? ClaudiusTo Gertrude
Mad as the sea and wind when both contendWhich is the mightier. In his lawless fit,Behind the arras hearing something stir,Whips out his rapier, cries, “A rat, a rat!”And in this brainish apprehension killsThe unseen good old man. GertrudeClaudius
How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!Yet must not we put the strong law on him.He’s loved of the distracted multitude,Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes.And where ’tis so, th’ offender’s scourge is weighed,But never the offense. To bear all smooth and even,This sudden sending him away must seemDeliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown ClaudiusSoliloquy?
And thou must cure me. Till I know ’tis done,Howe’er my haps, my joys were ne’er begun. Claudius Soliloquy
To my sick soul as sin’s true nature isEach toy seems prologue to some great amiss.So full of artless jealousy is guilt,It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. Gertrude Aside
Oh, this is the poison of deep grief. It springsAll from her father’s death, and now behold!O Gertrude, Gertrude,When sorrows come, they come not single spiesBut in battalions. First, her father slain.Next, your son gone, and he most violent author ClaudiusGertrude
In hugger-mugger to inter him. Poor OpheliaDivided from herself and her fair judgment,Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts. ClaudiusGertrude
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,O’erbears your officers. The rabble call him “lord”And—as the world were now but to begin,Antiquity forgot, custom not known,The ratifiers and props of every word—They cry, “Choose we! Laertes shall be king!” MessengerClaudius and Gertrude
That drop of blood that’s calm proclaims me bastard,Cries “Cuckold!” to my father, brands the “harlot”Even here between the chaste unsmirchèd browOf my true mother. LaertesClaudius and Gertrude
How came he dead? I’ll not be juggled with.To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil!Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!I dare damnation. To this point I standThat both the worlds I give to negligence.Let come what comes, only I’ll be revengedMost thoroughly for my father. LaertesClaudiusGertrude present
There’s fennel for you, and columbines.—There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me. We may call it “herb of grace” o’ Sundays.—Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference.—There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died. OpheliaTo LaertesClaudius present
Now must your conscience my acquaintance seal,And you must put me in your heart for friend,Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,That he which hath your noble father slainPursued my life. ClaudiusLaertes
Oh, for two special reasons,Which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed,But yet to me they are strong. The queen his motherLives almost by his looks, and for myself—My virtue or my plague, be it either which—She’s so conjunctive to my life and soul,That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,I could not but by her. ClaudiusTo Laertes
But yet to me they are strong. The queen his motherLives almost by his looks, and for myself—My virtue or my plague, be it either which—She’s so conjunctive to my life and soul, Claudius-Laertes
To thine own peace. If he be now returned,As checking at his voyage, and that he meansNo more to undertake it, I will work himTo an exploit, now ripe in my devise,Under the which he shall not choose but fall.And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,But even his mother shall uncharge the practiceAnd call it accident. CluadiusLaertes
My lord, I will be ruledThe rather if you could devise it soThat I might be the organ. LaertesTo Clauduis
Laertes, was your father dear to you?Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,A face without a heart? Claudius toLaertes
Not that I think you did not love your fatherBut that I know love is begun by time,And that I see, in passages of proof,Time qualifies the spark and fire of it. Claudius- Laertes
I will do ‘t.And for that purpose I’ll anoint my sword.I bought an unction of a mountebank,So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,Collected from all simples that have virtueUnder the moon, can save the thing from deathThat is but scratched withal. I’ll touch my pointWith this contagion, that if I gall him slightlyIt may be death. LaertesClaudius
There is a willow grows aslant a brookThat shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.There with fantastic garlands did she comeOf crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,But our cold maids do “dead men’s fingers” call them.There, on the pendant boughs her coronet weedsClambering to hang, an envious sliver broke,When down her weedy trophies and herselfFell in the weeping brook GertrudeTo LaertesClaudius present
When down her weedy trophies and herselfFell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,And mermaid-like a while they bore her up,Which time she chanted snatches of old laudsAs one incapable of her own distress,Or like a creature native and induedUnto that element. GertrudeLaertesClaudius present

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