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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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No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp;

 Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, Or die a soldier as I liv'd a king. Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death! time to do't ;--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.-- Misconster us in him, and wail his death. Death lies on her like an untimely frost