There 's such divinity doth hedge a king,

That treason can but peep to what it would.

Hamlet. Act iv. Sc. 5.

Nature is fine in love, and where 't is fine,

It sends some precious instance of itself

After the thing it loves.

Hamlet. Act iv. Sc. 5.

There 's rosemary, that 's for remembrance; . . . and there is pansies, that 's for thoughts.

Hamlet. Act iv. Sc. 5.

You must wear your rue with a difference. There 's a daisy; I would give you some violets, but they withered.