Previously in this series.
Old women have prophesied against thee.
Thou talk’st to thyself of murder. Often. Thou dost not even attempt to hide this.
Thy friend has been horribly mutilated.
Thy fool is remarkably faithful.
Thou must avenge a death.
Thou hast seen a ghost! (But only college-educated men may speak to it.)
“Thinkest thou we shall ever meet again?” asks thy love, upon thy parting. (The answer to her question? “Ha ha, no.”)
Thou hast thy family much offended. In return, thy family causes thy death.
Thou knowest at least two people murdered this eve.
Thy husband doubts thy fidelity.
The only more common crime than poisonings are regicides.
Thou hast had a prophetic dream.
Though in a grave profession, thou hast such wit, disguised princes seeking revenge cannot help but stop to banter with thee.
Thou seest thy foe, and more dances thy rapt heart than when thou first thy wedded mistress saw bestride thy threshold.
Thy friend demands of thee, “What hast thou done?” I’faith, thou canst respond, “Thy mother.”
Everyone is terrible. If they be not bad, they be mad. Or dead.
Thy friend’s newly mad child has sung a hey-nonny-nonny full of horrifying implications.
Equivocators are we all — save for children, fools, and madmen. They are remarkably on point.
Alas, how troubled thy marriage bed! Thinkst ‘twill improve? Too late! Thou art dead.
Regicide makes any marriage stronger.
Thou hast eaten thy children. Literally.
Thy impulsiveness has led thee to murder nearly everyone thou knowest.
Thou hast trouble with thy garments or thy personal hygiene habits.
Thou hast been attacked by pirates.
Thou hast not received a letter of great import.
Thou art consumed with thoughts of thy own death.
Thou hast been attacked by the landscape!
Thou takest political advice from strangers in moors.
Thou hast murdered thy wife’s previous husband. She’s fine with this.
Think not on what men say of thee behind thy back. Beware of the daggers behind thee, though.
What warlike noise is this? A subplot thou hast completely forgotten about.
Someone has impaled themselves on a sword. Oddly enough, this is not a dick joke.
Who art thou kidding? That was totally a dick joke.
Thy friend is dead.
Thy mother is dead.
Thy father is dead.
I’faith, everyone thou knowest is dead.
Thou art dead. Thy death was probably easily avoidable.