Sutherland John, Crace John

Benedick: I am man enough to say that I love thee. Is that not strange?Beatrice: Not really…Benedick: By my sword, Beatrice thou lovest me.Beatrice: Get over yourselfTo celebrate the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death, this is the third of a new collection of the Bard's greatest plays, digested to a few thousand words with invaluable side...

Alas poor Yorick, he looks not at all well.I knew him, Horatio;a fellow of infinite jest, though sadly finite breath.Though thy gibes be still, yet still thou grins.I seldom saw thy teeth look quite so cleanTo celebrate the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death, this is the fourth of a new collection of the Bard's greatest plays, digested to a...