Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2. Polonius.
Modern version:
“You may wonder if the stars are fire, You may wonder if the sun moves across the sky. You may wonder if the truth is a liar, But never wonder if I love.”
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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend… I come to bury Caesar, not to pra… The evil that men do lives after t… The good is oft interred with thei… So let it be with Caesar. The nob…
That thou hast her, it is not all… And yet it may be said I loved he… That she hath thee is of my wailin… A loss in love that touches me mor… Loving offenders, thus I will exc…
No more be grieved at that which t… Roses have thorns, and silver foun… Clouds and eclipses stain both moo… And loathsome canker lives in swee… All men make faults, and even I i…
Sin of self-love possesseth all mi… And all my soul, and all my every… And for this sin there is no remed… It is so grounded inward in my hea… Methinks no face so gracious is as…
Those petty wrongs that liberty co… When I am sometime absent from th… Thy beauty and thy years full well… For still temptation follows where… Gentle thou art and therefore to b…
When my love swears that she is ma… I do believe her, though I know s… That she might think me some untut… Unskilful in the world’s false for… Thus vainly thinking that she thin…
O, how much more doth beauty beaut… By that sweet ornament which truth… The rose looks fair, but fairer we… For that sweet odour, which doth i… The canker blooms have full as dee…
Farewell! Thou art too dear for m… And like enough thou know’st thy e… The charter of thy worth gives the… My bonds in thee are all determina… For how do I hold thee but by thy…
As fast as thou shalt wane, so fas… In one of thine, from that which t… And that fresh blood which youngly… Thou mayst call thine when thou fr… Herein lives wisdom, beauty and in…
For shame, deny that thou bear’st… Who for thy self art so unproviden… Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belo… But that thou none lov’st is most… For thou art so possessed with mur…
Th’ expense of spirit in a waste o… Is lust in action; and, till actio… Is perjured, murderous, bloody ful… Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not… Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd str…
FROM off a hill whose concave wo… A plaintful story from a sistering… My spirits to attend this double v… And down I laid to list the sad-t… Ere long espied a fickle maid full…
Thy gift, thy tables, are within m… Full charactered with lasting memo… Which shall above that idle rank r… Beyond all date even to eternity— Or at the least, so long as brain…
So oft have I invoked thee for my… And found such fair assistance in… As every alien pen hath got my use… And under thee their poesy dispers… Thine eyes, that taught the dumb o…
Let the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey. But thou, shrieking harbinger,