1 I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student.
2 I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
3 My lord, I do not know, but truly I do fear it.
4 For my part, I do not lie in't, yet it is mine.
5 I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
6 Why, because he was mad; he shall recover his wits there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there.
7 And, sister, as the winds give benefit And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me hear from you.
8 Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what's past, avoid what is to come; And do not spread the compost on the weeds, To make them ranker.
9 Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.
10 Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.