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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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Is by a forged process of my death

 
Dead.

 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.' He never gave commandment for their death. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me To make me die with a restorative. Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? Ha, banishment? be merciful, say death; We should profane the service of the dead  No, no, he is dead, Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? 
Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

 Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. O me! this sight of death is as a bell The soldiers' music and the rites of war Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him For the ingredients of our caldron. And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, 
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: