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And last, the crown of a' my grief.
And last, the crown of a' my grief.
For 'tis not good that children should know any wickedness.
For 'tis not good that children should know any wickedness.
To each man at his birth nature has given some fault.
To each man at his birth nature has given some fault.
Too much of anything is bad.
Too much of anything is bad.
How fallen, how changed
From him, who, in the happy realms of light,
Clothed with transcendent brightness, read more
How fallen, how changed
From him, who, in the happy realms of light,
Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine
Myriads, though bright.
His bark is worse than his bite.
His bark is worse than his bite.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your read more
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France,
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggared,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear.
The life of spies is to know, not bee known.
The life of spies is to know, not bee known.
