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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.


Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!

 Stand not amaz'd. The prince will doom thee death Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! In the division of each several crime, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Receiv'd his love? At your kind'st leisure.  And, like a neutral to his will and matter, Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto. It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!-- Consent to swear. 
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
 Ay, let the county take you in your bed; For he was likely, had he been put on, What is the issue of the business there. To have her match'd, and having now provided Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Poor sacrifices of our enmity! Try what repentance can: what can it not? Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt May stand in number, though in reckoning none.