John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 144
| William Shakespeare. (1564–1616) (continued) |
| 1679 |
| Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: 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 rises 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. |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1680 |
| To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till we find it stopping a bung-hole? |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1681 |
| ’T were to consider too curiously, to consider so. |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1682 |
| Imperious Cæsar, dead and turn’d to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1683 |
| Lay her i’ the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! 1 |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1684 |
| A ministering angel shall my sister be. 2 |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1685 |
| Sweets to the sweet: farewell! |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1686 |
| I thought thy bride-bed to have deck’d, sweet maid, And not have strew’d thy grave. |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1687 |
| Though I am not splenitive and rash, Yet have I something in me dangerous. |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 1688 |
| Forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum. |
| Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| Note 1. And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land. Alfred Tennyson: In Memoriam, xviii. [back] |
| Note 2. A ministering angel thou.—Sir Walter Scott: Marmion, canto vi. st. 30. [back] |