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QUEEN : One woe doth tread upon another’s heel,
So fast they follow. Your sister’s drowned, Laertes.LAERTES : Drowned? O, where?
QUEEN : There is a willow grows askant the brook
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
[...]
There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
Clamb’ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,
And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up,
Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds,
As one incapable of her own distress
Or like a creature native and endued
Unto that element. -
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