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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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Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,

 Is there a murderer here? No;--yes, I am: The most arch deed of piteous massacre Or in my cell there would she kill herself. Murder! Not being the gambling type, it took me several weeks to make up my mind to participate in this plan. 
  • That he which hath your noble father slain
 That thou shalt do no murder: will you then Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer, Than such a murder is. A dram of poison; such soon-speeding gear Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house, No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;