Have we as 'twere with a defeated joy, With an auspicious and a dropping eye, with mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage...
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state,
Fie on 't, ah fie! 'Tis an unweeden garden That grows to seed... Why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on.
And yet within a month, A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father's body
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight
had these gentlemen... encountered: a figure like your father
My lord, the king your father
Explore Our Articles and Examples
Try Our Other Websites!
Photos for Class
– Search for School-Safe, Creative Commons Photos (It Even Cites for You!
– Easily Make and Share Great-Looking Rubrics
– Create Custom Nursery Art