Hamlet: Page 118

Hamlet by William Shakespeare Page #118 This is a browsable copy of the a pdf file hosted on Rikai ("comprehend" in Japanese) This version of Hamlet features mouse-over definitions for uncommon words. Give it a try!
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Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
Queen.
Let her come in.
[Exit Horatio.]
To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,
Each toy seems Prologue to some great amiss:
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
[Re-enter Horatio with Ophelia.]
Oph.
Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
Queen.
How now, Ophelia?
Oph. [Sings.]
How should I your true love know
From another one?
By his cockle bat and' staff
And his sandal shoon.
Queen.
Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
Oph.
Say you? nay, pray you, mark.
[Sings.]
He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass green turf,
At his heels a stone.
Queen.
Nay, but Ophelia
Oph.
Pray you, mark.
[Sings.]
White his shroud as the mountain snow,
[Enter King.]
Queen.
Alas, look here, my lord!