All of Shakespeare’s plays. More…

And I could sing, would weeping do me good,
And never borrow any tear of thee.
Enter a Gardener, and two Servants
But stay, here come the gardeners:
Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
They'll talk of state; for every one doth so
Against a change; woe is forerun with woe.

Keyboard shortcuts

j previous speech k next speech