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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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For me to joy and weep their gain and loss:

 Weep our sad bosoms empty. We cannot without circumstance descry. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; The cry is still, "They come:" our castle's strength Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way Wherefore was that cry?