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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The tears have got small victory by that; I cry thee mercy then; for I did think Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. And twenty times made pause, to sob and weep, Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, choose but weep, to think they would lay him i' the cold ground. Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,-- Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,-- To stop the inundation of her tears; And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. For I myself have many tears to wash If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match. This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, Look No Further, We Have Them All In One Place For You! There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls,-- O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,