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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 die in terror of thy guiltiness!

 That ever yet this land was guilty of. 
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,

 Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd. So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin: The king mine uncle is to blame for this:  By cock, they are to blame. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: That you shall all repent the loss of mine: Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, For in that sin he is as deep as I. 
That ever yet this land was guilty of.

 
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free;
 Which after-hours gives leisure to repent. Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: For in that sin he is as deep as I. I do repent; but heaven hath pleas'd it so, The urging of that word judgment hath bred a kind of remorse in Put not another sin upon my head THAT WE MAKE YOU THIS GUARANTEE, Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,