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Текст на Статията
There be some sports are painful, and their labour.
Alas, now, pray you, Work not so hard: I would lightning had Burnt up those logs that.
No, precious creature; I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Thank you.
If you 'll sit down, I 'll bear your logs the while.
Fair encounter Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between 'em!
Miranda! Indeed the top of admiration! worth What 's dearest to the world! Full many.
O my father, I have broke your hest to say so!
Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.
My husband, then?
So glad of this as they I cannot be, Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing.
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