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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

 Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep. That I have? He would drown the stage with tears This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, Energy Level: 84% improvement To cry, "Hold, hold!" Weep our sad bosoms empty. That I have? He would drown the stage with tears Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" The pretty wretch left crying, and said 'Ay:' Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.