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?
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.