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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O mistress mine, where are you roa… O stay and hear! your true-love’s… That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journey’s end in lovers’ meeting–
O, that you were yourself! but, lo… No longer yours than you yourself… Against this coming end you should… And your sweet semblance to some o… So should that beauty which you ho…
All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely p… They have their exits and their en… And one man in his time plays many… His acts being seven ages. At fir…
Why is my verse so barren of new p… So far from variation or quick cha… Why with the time do I not glance… To new-found methods, and to compo… Why write I still all one, ever t…
Against my love shall be, as I am… With Time’s injurious hand crushe… When hours have drained his blood… With lines and wrinkles; when his… Hath travelled on to age’s steepy…
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal… How to divide the conquest of thy… Mine eye my heart thy picture’s si… My heart mine eye the freedom of t… My heart doth plead that thou in h…
Lo, as a careful housewife runs to… One of her feather’d creatures bro… Sets down her babe, and makes all… In pursuit of the thing she would… Whilst her neglected child holds h…
Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the caldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog,
The other two, slight air and purg… Are both with thee, wherever I ab… The first my thought, the other my… These present-absent with swift mo… For when these quicker elements ar…
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,
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…
When I consider everything that g… Holds in perfection but a little m… That this huge stage presenteth no… Whereon the stars in secret influe… When I perceive that men as plant…
When forty winters shall beseige t… And dig deep trenches in thy beaut… Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed… Will be a tatter’d weed, of small… Then being ask’d where all thy bea…
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…
O, lest the world should task you… What merit lived in me that you sh… After my death, dear love, forget… For you in me can nothing worthy p… Unless you would devise some virtu…