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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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Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:

 Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Should be as mortal as an old man's life? 
These dead men's tombs.

 Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! Died every day she lived. Fare-thee-well! Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. 
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,

 In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.-- Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death!  More miserable by the death of him Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? My babes were destined to a fairer death, And turn'd that black word death to banishment: And only in that safety died her brothers. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; Which in his death were perfect.