1 It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd.
2 There's the respect That makes calamity of so long life.
3 Not from his mouth, Had it th'ability of life to thank you.
4 Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
5 No, not for a king Upon whose property and most dear life A damn'd defeat was made.
6 In thee there is not half an hour of life; The treacherous instrument is in thy hand, Unbated and envenom'd.
7 Indeed, this counsellor Is now most still, most secret, and most grave, Who was in life a foolish peating knave.
8 Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath, And breath of life, I have no life to breathe What thou hast said to me.
9 You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal, except my life, except my life, except my life.
10 Break we our watch up, and by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen tonight Unto young Hamlet; for upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
11 But so much was our love We would not understand what was most fit, But like the owner of a foul disease, To keep it from divulging, let it feed Even on the pith of life.
12 The single and peculiar life is bound With all the strength and armour of the mind, To keep itself from 'noyance; but much more That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest The lives of many.'
13 Now must your conscience my acquittance seal, And you must put me in your heart for friend, Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear, That he which hath your noble father slain Pursu'd my life.
14 Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abus'd; but know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown.
15 Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand, Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatch'd: Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhous'led, disappointed, unanel'd; No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head.
16 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.
17 If by direct or by collateral hand They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give, Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours To you in satisfaction; but if not, Be you content to lend your patience to us, And we shall jointly labour with your soul To give it due content.
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