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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My glass shall not persuade me I… So long as youth and thou are of o… But when in thee Time’s furrows I… Then look I death my days should… For all that beauty that doth cove…
Enter Chorus O for a Muse of fire, that would… The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to… And monarchs to behold the swellin…
Whoever hath her wish, thou hast t… And Will to boot, and Will in ove… More than enough am I that vex th… To thy sweet will making addition… Wilt thou, whose will is large and…
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…
The forward violet thus did I chi… Sweet thief, whence didst thou ste… If not from my love’s breath? The… Which on thy soft cheek for comple… In my love’s veins thou hast too g…
But be contented when that fell ar… Without all bail shall carry me aw… My life hath in this line some int… Which for memorial still with thee… When thou reviewest this, thou dos…
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…
How can I then return in happy pl… That am debarred the benefit of re… When day’s oppression is not eased… But day by night, and night by day… And each, though enemies to either…
Let me confess that we two must be… Although our undivided loves are o… So shall those blots that do with… Without thy help, by me be borne a… In our two loves there is but one…
Those pretty wrongs that liberty c… 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…
O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy… Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his… Who hast by waning grown, and ther… Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet… If Nature, sovereign mistress ove…
When forty winters shall besiege 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…
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth,… But sad mortality o’er—sways their… How with this rage shall beauty ho… Whose action is no stronger than a… O, how shall summer’s honey breath…
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…
If there be nothing new, but that… Hath been before, how are our brai… Which, labouring for invention bea… The second burthen of a former chi… O, that record could with a backwa…