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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So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: It is the cry of women, my good lord. Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: That he should weep for her? What would he do, Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep. Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses, With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight, Which you weep for. And cry "O Clarence, my unhappy son!" How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! And twenty times made pause, to sob and weep, Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; I would these dewy tears were from the ground. This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, They cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!' With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? That which cries, "Thus thou must do, if thou have it: Cry "God save Richard, England's royal king!"