Hamlet Project
Storyboard Text
- O, that this too too solid flesh would meltThaw and resolve itself into a dew!Or that the Everlasting had not fix’dHis canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
- But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:So excellent a king; that was, to this,Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my motherThat he might not beteem the winds of heaven
- Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,As if increase of appetite had grownBy what it fed on: and yet, within a month–Let me not think on’t–Frailty, thy name is woman!
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