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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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Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep.

 
I cry you mercy:
 Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; They cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!' I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall tears: How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall tears: Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,--  Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd; And make poor England weep in streams of blood! And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet 
  • Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:
 Cry "God save Richard, England's royal king!" They cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!' Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;