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

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O'er whom his very madness, like some ore

 What, quite unmann'd in folly? But that this folly douts it. Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas, As if thou were distraught and mad with terror? Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness. Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so, For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Mad for thy love? For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; Mad for thy love? For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err; A document in madness,--thoughts and remembrance fitted. To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; This mad young man. But so much was our love And makes as healthful music: it is not madness