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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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To kill their gracious father? damned fact!

 It is a poison temper'd by himself.-- And take my milk for gall, your murdering ministers, The most arch deed of piteous massacre not to kill the duke. He has kill'd me, mother: For now they kill me with a living death. Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope If they do see thee, they will murder thee. 
  • As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
 Who should against his murderer shut the door, Then say they were not slain: Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now! My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder!--