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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother,

 How can we aid you with our kindred tears? But in battalions! First, her father slain: If ever he have child, abortive be it, Good madam, be not angry with the child. May you, Mrs. He should, for that, commit your godfathers:-- You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife, As of a father: for let the world take note I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: He is all the mother's, from the top to toe. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and Rivers, 
A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,
 As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, But for my brother not a man would speak,--