Electric Shakespeare
Confusing, amusing, genius!
O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: look to your little ones. To fright me with urchin, shows, pitch me i' the mire, nor lead me, Cassius, or I am mad, I do: I call'd the beacon of our leagues. Then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty.
speak again!
created by scott camac martin