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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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So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,

 His means of death, his obscure burial,-- O my accursed womb, the bed of death! That death and nature do contend about them, The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. What sights of ugly death within my eyes! To-day shalt thou behold a subject die But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. O wretched state! O bosom black as death!  He is dead and gone; But old folks, many feign as they were dead; 
O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
 And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, Thy drugs are quick.--Thus with a kiss I die. That unsubstantial death is amorous; Yet had we not determin'd he should die Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death?