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Cliquer sur les vers pour les voir dans leur contexte. Les pièces de Shakespeare sont disponibles auprès du Projet Gutenberg.

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Died every day she lived. Fare-thee-well!

 I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine As we have warranties: her death was doubtful; Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! Why the man dies.--I humbly thank you, sir. To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward; Under the moon, can save the thing from death This is thy sheath [stabs herself]; there rest, and let me die. More than his father's death, that thus hath put him Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, Be not so long to speak; I long to die, These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, O my accursed womb, the bed of death! That fair for which love groan'd for, and would die, And do't the speedier, that you may direct me