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Holla! Bernardo!
Holla at ya boy bernie
[Enter Ghost, armed.]
He stays STRAPPED
A little more than kin, and less than kind!
Hamlet is shady boots !!!
She married:-- O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
GET HER JADE
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
He said "men aint shit ophelia!!!"
My lord, he hath importun'd me with love In honourable fashion.
"but daddy i love him!"
Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,--
serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death
Denmark's a prison.
I HATE HERE
You are welcome: but my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
Gag of the cenTury i fear!!!!
Still on my daughter.
LMAO
To be, or not to be,--that is the question:--
The fair Ophelia!--Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd.
Omg did he just call her a whore
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?
you made me believe so.
loved you not.
THIS MF
I was the more deceived.
Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I
thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry,-- be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too. Farewell.
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched That suck'd the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
To have seen what I have seen, see what
No, good mother, here's metal more attractive.
To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day All in the morning bedtime, And I a maid at your window,
Young men will do't if they come to't; By cock, they are to blame. Quoth she, before you tumbled me, You promis'd me to wed. So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed.
heavens! is't possible a young maid's wits Should be as mortal as an old man's life? Nature is fine in love; and where 'tis fine, It sends some precious instance of itself After the thing it loves.
