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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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He is dead and gone, lady,

 Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, Are here arriv'd, give order that these bodies Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? And fearfully did menace me with death If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas, Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; That death and nature do contend about them, Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!" Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.-- The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Misconster us in him, and wail his death. Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir; As we have warranties: her death was doubtful; Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well! I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; Industrious soldiership. That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,