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A Midsummer Night's Dream Puck - II i 45
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marco
2017-08-26 01:47:12 UTC
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Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.


William Shakespeare
A***@germanymail.com
2017-08-26 17:21:21 UTC
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Art Neuendorffer
marco
2017-10-09 13:55:52 UTC
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Post by A***@germanymail.com
Art Neuendorffer
.

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