| How could he know so much?
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| How could he bear such knowledge?
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| How could he dare to write it in the plays?
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| What is it Shakespeare’d say
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| If he came back today?
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| Surely he’d recognize these mortal coils.
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| How do we carry on?
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| No-one knows where they fit in,
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| No-one knows who they are
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| Or where they’ve been.
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| What does the writer mean?
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| How do we play this scene?
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| What didn’t Shakespeare know that we do now?
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| Stiffen the sinews,
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| Wear hard-favour'd rage,
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| All history’s drama,
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| The world is a stage.
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| «There is a history in all men’s lives,
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| Figuring the nature of the times deceas’d;
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| The which observ’d, a man may prophesy,
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| With a near aim, of the main chance of things
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| As yet not come to life, which in their seeds
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| And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
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| Such things become the hatch and brood of time…»
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| Oh, but the show goes on,
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| On through the seven ages —
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| That of the world must mirror man’s, in fact.
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| Here comes the seventh act,
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| See how the mirror’s cracked,
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| Here comes sans everything for humankind.
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| To capture the conscience
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| Of nations and kings
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| All history’s drama —
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| The play’s the thing, the play’s the thing, the play’s the thing.
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| How could he know so much?
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| (The «ation is from «Henry IV"Pt. 2, Act III, Scene I) |