Collection 4: "The Tragedy of Hamlet" by William Shakespeare, Act V

What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the scripture?

I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows
does well. But how does it well? It does well
to those that do ill. Now, thou dost ill to say the
gallows is built stronger than the church. Argal, the
gallows may do well to thee.

This might be the pate of a politician which this
ass now o’erreaches, one that would circumvent
God, might it not?

Will his vouchers vouch him
no more of his purchases, and double ones too,
than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures?

How absolute the knave is! we must speak
by the card, or equivocation will undo us.

He poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once.

He hath bore me on his back
a thousand times, and now how abhorred in my
imagination it is!

Where be your gibes now?

No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither,
with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it, as
thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,
Alexander returneth to dust; the dust is earth; of
earth we make loam; and why of that loam whereto
he was converted might they not stop a beer barrel?

Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
Should patch a wall t’ expel the winter’s flaw

The Queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow?
And with such maimèd rites? This doth betoken
The corse they follow did with desp’rate hand
Fordo its own life.

We should profane the service of the dead
To sing a requiem and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.

I tell thee, churlish priest,
A minist’ring angel shall my sister be
When thou liest howling.

Pluck them asunder.

Rashly—
And praised be rashness for it; let us know,
Our indiscretion sometime serves us well
When our deep plots do pall; and that should learn us
There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will—

Rashly—
And praised be rashness for it; let us know,
Our indiscretion sometime serves us well
When our deep plots do pall; and that should learn us
There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will—

An earnest conjuration from the King,
As England was his faithful tributary,
As love between them like the palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear
And stand a comma ’tween their amities,
And many suchlike ases of great charge,
That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
Without debatement further, more or less,
He should those bearers put to sudden death,
Not shriving time allowed.

An earnest conjuration from the King,
As England was his faithful tributary,
As love between them like the palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear
And stand a comma ’tween their amities,
And many suchlike ases of great charge,
That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
Without debatement further, more or less,
He should those bearers put to sudden death,
Not shriving time allowed.

Why, man, they did make love to this employment.
They are not near my conscience. Their defeat
Does by their own insinuation grow.

But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.

Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know to divide him inventorially would dozy th’ arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail.

Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know to divide him inventorially would dozy th’ arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail.

But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.

But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.

Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.

I mean, sir, for his weapon. But in the imputation laid on him by them, in his meed he’s unfellowed.

The King, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary
horses, against the which he has impawned, as I
take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their
assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so.

I knew you must be edified
by the margent ere you had done.

The phrase would be more germane to the
matter, if we could carry a cannon by our sides.

Thus has he (and many more of the same
breed that I know the drossy age dotes on) only got
the tune of the time, and, out of an habit of
encounter, a kind of yeasty collection, which carries
them through and through the most fanned
and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to
their trial, the bubbles are out.

Thus has he (and many more of the same
breed that I know the drossy age dotes on) only got
the tune of the time, and, out of an habit of
encounter, a kind of yeasty collection, which carries
them through and through the most fanned
and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to
their trial, the bubbles are out.

We defy augury. There is a special
providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ’tis
not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if
it be not now, yet it will come.

Set me the stoups of wine upon that table.—
If Hamlet give the first or second hit
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire.

A hit, a very palpable hit.

The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.

If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity awhile
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain
To tell my story.

This quarry cries on havoc. O proud Death,
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell
That thou so many princes at a shot
So bloodily hast struck?

This quarry cries on havoc. O proud Death,
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell
That thou so many princes at a shot
So bloodily hast struck?

So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall’n on th’ inventors’ heads.

So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall’n on th’ inventors’ heads.