Hamlet, Act 1, sc 2

129       O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, 
130       Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! 
131       Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
132       His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! 
133       How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, 
134       Seem to me all the uses of this world! 
135       Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, 
136       That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature 
137       Possess it merely. That it should come to this! 
138       But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: 
139       So excellent a king; that was, to this, 
140       Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother 
141       That he might not beteem the winds of heaven 
142       Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! 
143       Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, 
144       As if increase of appetite had grown 
145       By what it fed on: and yet, within a month— 
146       Let me not think on't—Frailty, thy name is woman!— 
147       A little month, or ere those shoes were old 
148       With which she follow'd my poor father's body, 
149       Like Niobe, all tears:—why she, even she— 
150       O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, 
151       Would have mourn'd longer—married with my uncle, 
152       My father's brother, but no more like my father 
153       Than I to Hercules: within a month: 
154       Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears 
155       Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, 
156       She married. O, most wicked speed, to post 
157       With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! 
158       It is not nor it cannot come to good: 
159       But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.http://www.clicknotes.com/hamlet/HeliosVase.jpghttp://www.clicknotes.com/hamlet/smallsatyr.jpghttp://www.clicknotes.com/hamlet/niobe.jpghttp://www.clicknotes.com/hamlet/Hercules.gif