Ophelia: How should I your true love know
From another one? --
By his cockle hat and staff
And his sandal shown.

Ophelia: He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone.
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.

Ophelia: Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window
To be your Valentine.
Then up he rose, and donned his cloethes,
And dupped the chamber door;
let in the maid, that out a maid
never departed more.

Ophelia: By Gis, and by Saint Charity,
Alack, and fie for shame!
Young men will do't if they come to't,
By Cock, they are to blame.
Quoth she 'Before you tumbled me,
You promised me to wed.'
So would I 'a' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray, love, remember. And there is pansies; that's for thoughts.

Ophelia: There's fennel for you, and columbines.

Ophelia: There's rue for you, and here's some for me...O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy. I would give you violets, but they withered all when my father died. They say he made a good end.

Laertes: Where is the king? -- Where is my father?

Laertes: How came him dead? I'll not be juggled with.
To hell, allegiance! Vows to the blackest devil!

Laertes: I dare damnation. To this point I stand,
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes. Only I'll be revenged
Most thoroughly for my father.

Laertes: Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!
O heavens, is't possible a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?

Claudius: Now must your conscience my acquittance seal...
he which hath your noble father slain
Pursued my life.
No place should murder sanctuarize.
Revenge should have no bounds.

Laertes: And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword.
I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

Claudius: I'll have prapered him
A chalice for the nonce, wheron but sipping,
If he by chance escape your venomed stuck,
Our purpose may hold true.