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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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O friar, the damned use that word in hell;

 Bleed, bleed, poor country! 
The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
 New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird Bear hence this body, and attend our will: The queen, my lord, is dead. Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. Had I as many sons as I have hairs, That, on the supervise, no leisure bated, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily. Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, And at our more consider'd time we'll read, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. I will advise you where to plant yourselves; Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands, My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. And in this brainish apprehension, kills God forbid!--where's this girl?--what, Juliet! 
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay:

 And all my armour laid into my tent? Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her, Than Buckingham and his rash-levied strength. You will receive a manual that explains how, why and what we are doing, a video where you'll meet us and see exactly how our business works and an audiotape to further help you with your decision. Be't their comfort