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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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Than death can yield me here by my abode.

 And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death 
  • Go to thy death-bed,
 Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? Shall I be plain?--I wish the bastards dead; Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled 
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
 Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!" Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make 
And look on death itself! up, up, and see

 By thee was punched full of deadly holes: As an old man said to me: Take note of this plant! That's by me wounded. Both our remedies Under the moon, can save the thing from death To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,  Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god-kissing Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, Shot from the deadly level of a gun,