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For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, 'Tis death to me to be at enmity; Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled Dead art thou, dead!--alack, my child is dead; Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse Dead. And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-- Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, My father is not dead, for all your saying. Give, me superfluous death. | Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: |
Was pitied of Macbeth:--marry, he was dead:-- Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt's dead,