Saturday, December 6, 2014

Post 12.6.2014.5

Charmian:  In this vile world?  So, fare thee well.
Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd.  Downy windows, close;
And golden Phoebus never be beheld
Of egos again so royal!  Your crown's awry;
I'll mend it, and then play.

Act V, Scene 2

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