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Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing, Confederate season, else no creature seeing, Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecate’s ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurp immediately. (pours poison into PLAYER KING ’s ears) (3, 2, 239-245)
No, my lord. Ay, my lord. I think nothing, my lord.
Lady, shall I lay in your lap? I mean, my head upon your lap? Do you think I meant country matters? (3.2.119-128)
So many journeys may the sun and moon Make us again count o'er ere love be done. But woe is me! You are so sick of late, So far from cheer and from your former state, That I distrust you. Yet though I distrust, Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must. For women fear too much, even as they love, And women’s fear and love hold quantity, In neither aught, or in extremity. Now what my love is, proof hath made you know, And as my love is sized, my fear is so: Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear. Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. (3, 2, 148-160)
O good Horatio, I’ll take the ghost’s word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive?
Very well, my lord. (3,2, 281-)
The queen your mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you.
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