Post-UK election analysis by characters from Shakespeare:
Macbeth, Brutus, Lord Scroop, Prince of Morocco, Edgar, Autolycus
Thou losest labour
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
Fare you well; your suit is cold.
Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.
Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.
You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.
So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
And labour shall refresh itself with hope
And labour shall refresh itself with hope
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