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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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These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,

 And death's pale flag is not advanced there.-- He cannot live, I hope; and must not die And leave him all; life, living, all is death's. She should have died hereafter; Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death I lost some pounds with every diet, and then eventually gained it back, usually with a few extra pounds. 
And his commission to employ those soldiers,
 My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt And for his death no wind shall breathe; He should the bearers put to sudden death, How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them.