All of Shakespeare’s plays.
Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
You see, is kill'd in him: and yet it is danger
To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.
He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile.
Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!
Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
I doubt not of his temperance.
So please your majesty
That we may wake the king: he hath slept long.
Madam, sleeps still.
There is means, madam:
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.
An open source tool for making transcripts really easy to read, search and share on the modern web
Your donations keep this site and others like it running
A Poplus component
mySociety Limited is a project of UK Citizens Online Democracy, a registered charity in England and Wales. For full details visit mysociety.org.