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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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Never came poison from so sweet a place.

 If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news! Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house, Doth not she think me an old murderer, And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: To fight against that bloody homicide. The drink, the drink!--I am poison'd. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me 
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
 for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me. Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! Had not been broken, nor my brother slain: Doth not she think me an old murderer, Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice Alack the day!--he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! To fight against that bloody homicide.