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And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock:
Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags."

— As You Like It, Act II Scene 7

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1-6 of 6 total

KEYWORD: prison

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# Result number	Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.	Character Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet, the character name is "Poet."	Line Shows where the line falls within the work. The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not restart for each scene.	Text The line's full text, with keywords highlighted within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.
1	Hamlet [I, 5]	Father's Ghost	745	I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! If thou didst ever thy dear father love-
2	Hamlet [II, 2]	Hamlet	1340	Then is doomsday near! But your news is not true. Let me question more in particular. What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of Fortune that she sends you to prison hither?
3	Hamlet [II, 2]	Guildenstern	1344	Prison, my lord?
4	Hamlet [II, 2]	Hamlet	1345	Denmark's a prison.
5	Hamlet [II, 2]	Hamlet	1350	Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.
6	Hamlet [III, 2]	Player Queen	2108	Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light, Sport and repose lock from me day and night, To desperation turn my trust and hope, An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope, Each opposite that blanks the face of joy Meet what I would have well, and it destroy, Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, If, once a widow, ever I be wife!

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