Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him...
King Lear: A Tragedy in Five Acts - Page 77
by William Shakespeare - 1808 - 78 lehte
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