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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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Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.--

 Well, think of marriage now: younger than you, Wept like two children in their deaths' sad story. There's nothing serious in mortality: Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. Or like a whale. And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. Your high displeasure.--All this,--uttered Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head. His agile arm beats down their fatal points,