Oyonale - 3D art and graphic experiments
ShakeSpam
Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.
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To cry, "Hold, hold!" Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. I for an Edward weep, so do not they:-- With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight, Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,-- And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" | Woul't weep? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't tear thyself? |
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.-- O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; choose but weep, to think they would lay him i' the cold ground. Such hideous cries that, with the very noise, Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. May sweep to my revenge. choose but weep, to think they would lay him i' the cold ground. Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way