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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet

 She for an Edward weeps, and so do I: Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep.  Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. That he should weep for her? What would he do, O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? That, sweepstake, you will draw both friend and foe, My fate cries out, My fate cries out,