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.”
#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury
How can my Muse want subject to i… While thou dost breathe, that pour… Thine own sweet argument, too exce… For every vulgar paper to rehearse… O, give thyself the thanks, if aug…
Is it thy will thy image should ke… My heavy eyelids to the weary nigh… Dost thou desire my slumbers shoul… While shadows like to thee do mock… Is it thy spirit that thou send’st…
Not from the stars do I my judgme… And yet methinks I have astronomy… But not to tell of good or evil lu… Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons… Nor can I fortune to brief minute…
Not marble, nor the gilded monumen… Of princes, shall outlive this pow… But you shall shine more bright in… Than unswept stone besmear’d with… When wasteful war shall statues ov…
How careful was I, when I took my… Each trifle under truest bars to t… That to my use it might unusèd sta… From hands of falsehood, in sure w… But thou, to whom my jewels trifle…
Some glory in their birth, some in… Some in their wealth, some in thei… Some in their garments, though new… Some in their hawks and hounds, so… And every humour hath his adjunct…
My love is strengthened, though mo… I love not less, though less the s… That love is merchandized, whose r… The owner's tongue doth publish ev… Our love was new, and then but in…
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…
How oft, when thou, my music, musi… Upon that blessèd wood whose motio… With thy sweet fingers when thou g… The wiry concord that mine ear con… Do I envy those jacks that nimble…
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…
Not from the stars do I my judgem… And yet methinks I have astronomy… But not to tell of good or evil lu… Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons… Nor can I fortune to brief minute…
TELL me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender’d in the eyes,
When, in disgrace with fortune and… I all alone beweep my outcast stat… And trouble deaf heaven with my bo… And look upon myself and curse my… Wishing me like to one more rich i…
So are you to my thoughts as food… Or as sweet-seasoned showers are t… And for the peace of you I hold s… As 'twixt a miser and his wealth i… Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
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…