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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.


Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;

 Which let thy wiseness fear: away thy hand! To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,-- Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark Bid him not fear the separated councils: * Trouble with the law? Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul Truly, the hearts of men are fun of fear: And that which rather thou dost fear to do When mine are blanch'd with fear. If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him, Thou hast harp'd my fear aright:--but one word more,-- Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,