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Wherefore was that cry? Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; No, coz, I rather weep. Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? | To think it should leave crying, and say 'Ay:' |
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: They cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!' Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, Why, let the strucken deer go weep,