| what's hecuba to him, or he to hecuba, that he should weep for her? what would he do, had he the motive and the cue for passion that i have? he would drown the stage with tears and cleave the general ear with horrid speech, make mad the guilty and appal the free, confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed the very faculties of eyes and ears. yet i, a dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, like john-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, and can say nothing; no, not for a king, upon whose property and most dear life a damn'd defeat was made. am i a coward? who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, as deep as to the lungs? who does me this?
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| we defy augury. there's 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: the readiness is all. since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?
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| never believe it. i am more an antique roman than a dane; here's yet some liquor left.
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| a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy:. he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. here hung those lips that i have kissed i know not how oft. where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.
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| i loved ophelia: forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum. what wilt thou do for her?
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