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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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Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot

 Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary And wet his grave with my repentant tears,-- So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, Our tears are not yet brew'd. I cry thee mercy then; for I did think That I have? He would drown the stage with tears