Epizeuxis

How oft, when thou, my music, music play’stAnastrophe, Antanaclasis, Epizeuxis & Metaphor
Upon that blessèd wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,Anastrophe & Synecdoche
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
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Horatio 
Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.Alliteration & Epizeuxis
Barnardo
Sit down awhile,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,Synecdoche & Assonance
What we have two nights seen.Anastrophe

Before my God,
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O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!Epizeuxis & Metaphor
Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter!Metonymy O God, God,
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!Apostrophe & Epizeuxis

O God,
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Hamlet 
Thrift, thrift, Horatio.Epizeuxis The funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.Alliteration
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father—methinks I see my father.

He was a man. Take him for all in all,
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Ghost
Adieu, adieu, adieu.Epizeuxis Remember me.
 He exits.
Hamlet
O all you host of heaven! O Earth!Anapodotons & Apostrophes What else?
And shall I couple hell?Pysma O fie! Hold, hold, my heart,
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
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Hamlet
Words, words, words.Epizeuxis
Polonius
What is the matter, my lord?
Hamlet
Between who?
Polonius
I mean the matter Antanaclesisthat you read, my lord.

Though this be madness, yet there is
method in ‘t.

Hamlet
Slanders,
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Chamberlain
You bear a gentle mindSynecdoche, and heav’nly blessings
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note’s
Ta’en of your many virtues, the King’s Majesty
Commends his good opinion of you to you, and
Does purpose honor to youAnthimeria no less flowing
Than Marchioness of Pembroke,
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Macduff
O horror, horror, horror!Epizeuxis
Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!Catachresis & Synecdoche
Macbeth and Lennox
What’s the matter?

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.

Macduff
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.Personification
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord’s anointed temple and stole thence
The life o’ th’ building.
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Hero
Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
As we do trace this alley up and down,
Our talk must only be of Benedick.
When I do name him, let it be thy part
To praise him more than ever man did merit.

What fire is in mine ears?

My talk to thee must be how Benedick
Is sick in love with Beatrice.
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O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown!Synecdoche
The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword,Alliteration & Synecdoche
Th’ expectancy and rose of the fair state,Hendiadys
The glass of fashion and the mold of form,Metaphor & Isocolon
Th’ observed of all observers,
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