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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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Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,

 And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd; My fate cries out, The liquid drops of tears that you have shed The pretty wretch left crying, and said 'Ay:' So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall tears: Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast, My fate cries out, The people in the street cry Romeo, 
Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.
  Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, I cry thee mercy then; for I did think I was hitting the snooze alarm less.