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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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And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd;

 The people in the street cry Romeo, So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. To overgo thy woes and drown thy cries? For I myself have many tears to wash Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it Wherefore was that cry? We cannot without circumstance descry. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen, 
Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,
 I would these dewy tears were from the ground. It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death,  Why, let the strucken deer go weep, How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! Our tears are not yet brew'd. If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,--