Wednesday, December 7, 2022

 

 

 Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears

There is no certain princess that appears;

You’ll not be perjured, ‘tis a hateful thing;

Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!

 

-Berowne

Love’s Labour’s Lost             Act IV, Scene iii, Line 154

 

What have we here?

I’ve no idear.

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