/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.8107659]

What is Shakespeare's best work and why is it obviously Titus Andronicus?

>Here me grave fathers
>I tell my sorrow to the stones
>Die die Lavinia
>Why there they are, both baked in that pie

10/10

[Anonymous No.8107666]

King Lear or Hamlet
nice try, friendo

[Anonymous No.8107694]

Henry 4 Part 1

[Anonymous No.8107713]

Corialanus suckazzz

[The Sound and the Fury !!KlYr/MIPjaz No.8108019]

That's not Hamlet.

[Anonymous No.8108050]

Othello

[Anonymous No.8108066]

MARCUS
Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast!
Cousin, a word; where is your husband?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep!
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
And might not gain so great a happiness
As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!
And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so?
O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him, to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touch'd them for his life!
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;
For such a sight will blind a father's eye:
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;
What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!
Exeunt

[Anonymous No.8108084]

South Park did it better

[Anonymous No.8108088]

Julius Caesar was always my favorite

[Anonymous No.8108094]

>see that Titus Andronicus is going to be at a park
>think its the cool yankee band
>its some dumb play

tru story

[Anonymous No.8108127]

>>8108094
You suck.

[Anonymous No.8108135]

>>8108084
ebin

[Anonymous No.8108141]

>>8108127
>You will never peasents red wine and eat salad with these two qts

[Anonymous No.8109242]

Junior art=best art #pedocritique