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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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Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

 By their own beauties: or, if love be blind, That your good beauties be the happy cause 
Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace?
 Together with that fair and warlike form So far from cheer and from your former state. Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, No more, sweet Hamlet. Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast; Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both. It is supposed, the fair creature died,-- Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, 
  In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,