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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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Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;

 Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag. That they which brought me in my master's hate, I hate not you for her proud arrogance. You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:-- In deadly hate the one against the other: The bleeding witness of her hatred by; More direful hap betide that hated wretch By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; Can lesser hide his love or hate than he; The bleeding witness of her hatred by;