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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Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast, Weep our sad bosoms empty. I cry you mercy: She for an Edward weeps, and so do I: Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash The cry is still, "They come:" our castle's strength And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, No, coz, I rather weep. I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. That he should weep for her? What would he do, How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. choose but weep, to think they would lay him i' the cold ground. With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows