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Updated: June 1, 2025
It was like a thick shell with no crevice in it through which the tenderness of Shakespeare's Hamlet could show, except for the one moment at Ophelia's grave, where he reproaches Laertes with those pathetic words "What is the reason that you use me thus? I loved you ever; but it is no matter." Here Mme. Bernhardt betrayed a real grief, but as a woman would, and not a man.
Now tie a red ribbon about Ophelia's wrist and put a blue ribbon on Amelia, and so long as they wear them you will not be troubled to tell them apart." Everyone marvelled greatly that Sophocles should know the children better than their own mother, but he said to himself, In a little side street near the center of Gotham lived an old woman named Deborah Smith.
'I had some views, but, of course, I should be so glad to have your opinion about it. I only saw Hamlet once, and the lady was dressed in white, with a gauzy light nun's-veiling over it. I thought that with white pongee silk as an under-dress, and then some sort of delicate 'Crepe de Chine, Maude suggested. 'But in Ophelia's day such a thing had never been heard of, said Mrs. Hunt Mortimer.
Terror had deprived him of all presence of mind; he threw himself along the floor, and nothing could persuade him to rise. The rest yielded to Miss Ophelia's urgent representations, that their master's safety depended on their stillness and obedience. St. Clare could say but little; he lay with his eyes shut, but it was evident that he wrestled with bitter thoughts.
If it had not been for you, I should never have written this story, so I give it back to you tied with a sprig from Ophelia's nosegay; a sprig of "rosemary, that's for remembrance." August, 1907 I. The Old Peabody Pew Edgewood, like all the other villages along the banks of the Saco, is full of sunny slopes and leafy hollows.
Clare, after all his promises of goodness, took a wicked pleasure in these mistakes, calling Topsy to him whenever he had a mind to amuse himself, and getting her to repeat the offending passages, in spite of Miss Ophelia's remonstrances. "How do you think I can do anything with the child, if you will go on so, Augustine?" she would say.
Where are the absurdities of youthful woman-worship held up to such derision as in Pendennis' love for Miss Costigan! Pen tried to engage her in conversation about poetry and about her profession. He asked her what she thought about Ophelia's madness, and whether she was in love with Hamlet or not? "In love with such a little ojus creature as that stunted manager of a Bingley?"
It was a charming little sylvan scene that met his eyes. The spot had been fitly called Ophelia's Pool. The small pond was shut in with rowans and thickets of alder and blackberry bushes, and on the pond itself some water-lilies and other aquatic plants were growing.
The pros for August consisted mainly of the pith of a proverb and a bit of mad Ophelia's sanity: "There is no time like the present" and "We know what we are, but know not what we may be!" At present we have a good horse, Larry, and plenty of time, the con being, suppose we have a dry, hot autumn.
The dread appearance of the Ghost takes possession of the mind and the imagination almost at the very commencement; then the play within the play, in which, as in a glass, we see reflected the crime, whose fruitlessly attempted punishment constitutes the subject-matter of the piece; the alarm with which it fills the King; Hamlet's pretended and Ophelia's real madness; her death and burial; the meeting of Hamlet and Laertes at her grave; their combat, and the grand determination; lastly, the appearance of the young hero Fortinbras, who, with warlike pomp, pays the last honours to an extinct family of kings; the interspersion of comic characteristic scenes with Polonius, the courtiers, and the grave-diggers, which have all of them their signification, all this fills the stage with an animated and varied movement.
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