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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O, farewell, honest soldier; The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!-- Thou know'st 'tis common,--all that lives must die, The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, | The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead |
Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, Shall I be plain?--I wish the bastards dead; That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-- His venom tooth will rankle to the death: We should profane the service of the dead No, no, he is dead, But he, poor man, by your first order died, No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,-- And die ere men can say God save the queen! Alas, alas!--Help, help! My lady's dead!-- | In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.-- |