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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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For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,

 To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? And here he writes that he did buy a poison 
Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:

 To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me. To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, Warm and new kill'd. Murder! Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news! Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower, And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: