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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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Thou knowest my daughter's of a pretty age.

 But for the sunset of my brother's son And in the breath of bitter words let's smother That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, To wail the title, as her mother doth. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, master's daughter. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's children? Your children were vexation to your youth; Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeas'd Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all together:-- Being nothing like the noble duke my father.