Speeches (Lines) for Laertes
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# | Act, Scene, Line (Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
My dread lord,
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2 |
My necessaries are embark'd. Farewell.
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3 |
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,
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4 |
Think it no more.
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5 |
O, fear me not!
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6 |
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. |
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7 |
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well
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8 |
Farewell. Exit. |
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9 |
Where is this king?- Sirs, staid you all without. |
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10 |
I pray you give me leave. |
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11 |
I thank you. Keep the door. [Exeunt his Followers.]
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12 |
That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard;
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13 |
Where is my father? |
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14 |
How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
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15 |
My will, not all the world!
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16 |
None but his enemies. |
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17 |
To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms
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18 |
How now? What noise is that?
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19 |
Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
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20 |
This nothing's more than matter. |
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21 |
A document in madness! Thoughts and remembrance fitted. |
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22 |
Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,
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23 |
Do you see this, O God? |
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24 |
Let this be so.
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25 |
It well appears. But tell me
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26 |
And so have I a noble father lost;
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27 |
Know you the hand? |
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28 |
I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come!
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29 |
Ay my lord,
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30 |
My lord, I will be rul'd;
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31 |
What part is that, my lord? |
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32 |
A Norman was't? |
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33 |
Upon my life, Lamound. |
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34 |
I know him well. He is the broach indeed
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35 |
What out of this, my lord? |
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36 |
Why ask you this? |
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37 |
To cut his throat i' th' church! |
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38 |
I will do't!
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39 |
Drown'd! O, where? |
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40 |
Alas, then she is drown'd? |
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41 |
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
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42 |
What ceremony else? |
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43 |
What ceremony else? |
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44 |
Must there no more be done? |
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45 |
Lay her i' th' earth;
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46 |
O, treble woe
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47 |
The devil take thy soul! |
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48 |
I am satisfied in nature,
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49 |
Come, one for me. |
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50 |
You mock me, sir. |
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51 |
This is too heavy; let me see another. |
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52 |
Come, my lord. They play. |
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53 |
No. |
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54 |
Well, again! |
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55 |
A touch, a touch; I do confess't. |
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56 |
My lord, I'll hit him now. |
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57 |
[aside] And yet it is almost against my conscience. |
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58 |
Say you so? Come on. Play. |
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59 |
Have at you now! |
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60 |
Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric.I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery. |
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61 |
It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain;
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62 |
He is justly serv'd.
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