Act I, Scene 5 Quotes — Hamlet

Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive / Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven, / And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, / To prick and sting her.

Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

O Hamlet, what a falling off was there, / From me, whose love was of that dignity / That it went hand in hand even with the vow / I made to her in marriage; and to decline / Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor / To those of mine.

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole / With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, / And in the porches of my ears did pour / The leperous distilment,

O my prophetic soul! Mine uncle!