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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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O my accursed womb, the bed of death!

 Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death: Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die,-- 
Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,
 
Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?

 Exposing what is mortal and unsure From the first corse till he that died to-day, 
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
 Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, The death I gave him. So again, good-night.-- If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo And steal immortal blessing from her lips; O, I die, Horatio; And I Will stand the hazard of the die: Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, The purple sap from her sweet brothers' bodies,