All of Shakespeare’s plays.
Come, come, we fear the worst; all shall be well.
Why, so hath this, both by the father and mother.
So stood the state when Henry the Sixth
Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old.
No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign.
Give you good morrow, sir.
Ay, that the king is dead.
Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast?
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