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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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Mad for thy love?

 His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy. His flight was madness: when our actions do not, 
Into the madness wherein now he raves,
 'Twill not he seen in him there; there the men are as mad as he. And I the matter will re-word; which madness Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err; His flight was madness: when our actions do not, O'er whom his very madness, like some ore That I essentially am not in madness, But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof Mad let us grant him then: and now remains What, quite unmann'd in folly? As if thou were distraught and mad with terror? As if thou were distraught and mad with terror? What, quite unmann'd in folly? For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Make mad the guilty, and appal the free; 
To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;

 For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Make mad the guilty, and appal the free; His flight was madness: when our actions do not, But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; O'er whom his very madness, like some ore His flight was madness: when our actions do not,