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I will do't:And, for that purpose, I'll anoint my sword.I bought an unction of a mountebank,So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,Collected from all simples that have virtueUnder the moon, can save the thing from deathThat is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my pointWith this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,It may be death.