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Cliquer sur les vers pour les voir dans leur contexte. Les pièces de Shakespeare sont disponibles auprès du Projet Gutenberg.

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Was never mother had so dear a loss!

 Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb; To take our brother Clarence to your grace. Of my true mother. Between the Duke of Gloster and your brothers, But I hear no; they say my son of York Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand, The weird sisters, hand in hand, I am thy father's spirit; And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause 
My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold:
 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. But in your daughter's womb I bury them: A sister driven into desperate terms,-- Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick; Very important if you want real results!! Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!-- Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; That he which hath your noble father slain Tell them, when that my mother went with child He has kill'd me, mother: 
Was never mother had so dear a loss!