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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Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, I for an Edward weep, so do not they:-- Such hideous cries that, with the very noise, Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen, Weep our sad bosoms empty. That, sweepstake, you will draw both friend and foe, How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Cry "God save Richard, England's royal king!" Like Niobe, all tears;--why she, even she,-- That, sweepstake, you will draw both friend and foe, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.-- Why, let the strucken deer go weep, This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match. Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, All this is comfort; wherefore weep I, then? And twenty times made pause, to sob and weep, Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight, Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot