Let the poor man mind his tongue.

Let the poor man mind his tongue.

One father is enough to governe one hundred sons, but not a
hundred sons one father.

One father is enough to governe one hundred sons, but not a
hundred sons one father.

So was hir jolly whistel wel y-wette.

So was hir jolly whistel wel y-wette.

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your read more

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France,
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggared,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear.

The fellow is either a madman or a poet.

The fellow is either a madman or a poet.

Peace, and Patience, and death with repentance.

Peace, and Patience, and death with repentance.

When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.

When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.

Hee pays too deare for honey that licks it from thornes.

Hee pays too deare for honey that licks it from thornes.

Fury itself supplies arms.

Fury itself supplies arms.