1 Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.
2 Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb.
3 Alack the day, he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead.
4 Alack, my child is dead, And with my child my joys are buried.
5 Thy Juliet is alive, For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead.
6 She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
7 But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
8 He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
9 Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.
10 My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain, And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband.
11 O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead, That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
12 Chain me with roaring bears; Or hide me nightly in a charnel-house, O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls.
13 Why I descend into this bed of death Is partly to behold my lady's face, But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger A precious ring, a ring that I must use In dear employment.
14 Alas poor Romeo, he is already dead, stabbed with a white wench's black eye; run through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft.
15 Beshrew my very heart, I think you are happy in this second match, For it excels your first: or if it did not, Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were, As living here and you no use of him.'
16 Or bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble, And I will do it without fear or doubt, To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
17 Let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead, And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath As violently as hasty powder fir'd Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Your search result possibly is over 17 sentences. If you upgrade to a VIP account, you will see up to 500 sentences for one search.