All of Shakespeare’s plays.
God's benison go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
'Tis said they eat each other.
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
Threescore and ten I can remember well:
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.
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.