(Hamlet’s First Soliloquy: Act 1, Scene 2) O that this too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into pearly dew! Or that the dice of fate had not fix’d me To lonely self-pleasure! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seems it to me all such solo uses When I recall him that was mine. Fie on’t! O fie! my cock an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely, with no horny hand it to reap. That it should come to this! But two months gone! – nay, not so much, not two. So excellent a lover; he was to me, Titan, father of s… Weiterlesen
