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Hamlet, I.iii 1-55

Before Laertes leaves again for college in France, he warns his sister that Prince Hamlet might actually believe that he loves her, but as heir to the throne, he will not be a totally free man to make his choice:

Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain/If with too credent ear you list his songs/Or lose your heart or your chaste treasure open/To his unmastered importunity (I.iii.33-36).

Best safety lies in fear.

Ophelia says she will listen, but, says she, make sure, brother, that you do not act the hypocrite (49-55).

 

 

Sphaera Civitatis

Scala Naturae

Chain of being

Hamlet: character relationships

Hamlet: the map of the times

Wuthering Heights: citation of the book I use.

Brontë, Emily. Wuthering Heights: An Authoritative Text With Essays in Criticism. Edited by William Sale, Jr., W.W. Norton and Company, 1963.

Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 63-8036

The text itself originally published in 1850.

Open Source Shakespeare

http://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/

A Shakespeare concordance, wonderfully searchable.

I am Stretched on Your Grave—Dead Can Dance

Singers Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerrard of Dead Can Dance. (No, I’m not suggesting the pair resemble Heathcliff and Cathy.)

https://youtu.be/bXIfTGAfBvg

“Rememberance,” Emily Brontë

Cold in the earth—and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time’s all-severing wave?

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover
Thy noble heart forever, ever more?

Cold in the earth—and fifteen wild Decembers,
From those brown hills, have melted into spring:
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,
While the world’s tide is bearing me along;
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

No later light has lightened up my heaven,
No second morn has ever shone for me;
All my life’s bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life’s bliss is in the grave with thee.

But, when the days of golden dreams had perished,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.

Then did I check the tears of useless passion—
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?