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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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The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.

 And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse, God knows I will not do it to the death. Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled And her immortal part with angels lives. Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death And turn'd that black word death to banishment: Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie, Than death can yield me here by my abode. 'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, The horrible conceit of death and night, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, Compare dead happiness with living woe; Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.