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- "Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.Thou art not conquered. Beauty’s ensign yetIs crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,And death’s pale flag is not advancèd there.Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?O, what more favor can I do to theeThan with that hand that cut thy youth in twainTo sunder23 his that was thine enemy?Forgive me, cousin!" (Shakespeare 473)
- ¨Here’s to my love! O true apothecary!Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.¨ (Shakespeare 473)
- ¨Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.What’s here? A cup, closed in my truelove’s hand?Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly dropTo help me after? I will kiss thy lips.Haply some poison yet doth hang on themTo make me die with a restorative. Thy lips are warm!¨ (Shakespeare 743)
- "Yea, noise? Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger!This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die."(shakespeare 473)
- A glooming peace this morning with it brings.The sun for sorrow will not show his head.Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;Some shall be pardoned, and some punishèd;For never was a story of more woeThan this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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