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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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But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,

 Farewell, dear mother. Loath to depose the child, your brother's son-- On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick; Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother, Sister, have comfort: all of us have cause And I'll salute your grace of York as mother The curse my noble father laid on thee, O, in this love, you love your child so ill Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, Told the sad story of my father's death, Or he that slew her brothers and her uncles? As being got, your father then in France, All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude, They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who all-hailed me, 'Thane of Cawdor'; by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell. There's but one down: the son is fled. Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither. But in your daughter's womb I bury them: me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me: Against my children, brothers, and myself--