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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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O, yet I do repent me of my fury,

  By cock, they are to blame. That ever yet this land was guilty of. The sin of my ingratitude even now That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, The youth you breathe of guilty, be assur'd Then have my lips the sin that they have took. I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, 
We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink.
 Yet what can it when one cannot repent? 
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,

 I do repent; but heaven hath pleas'd it so, The sin of my ingratitude even now Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness So full of artless jealousy is guilt,