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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Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir; Death lies on her like an untimely frost But two months dead!--nay, not so much, not two: To cure this deadly grief. Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!-- Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, Yes,--that the king is dead. My babes were destined to a fairer death, Oh, and yes, I did collect the $5,000. I would they were, that I might die at once; Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabbed with a white As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? Too late he died that might have kept that title, But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee. And steal immortal blessing from her lips; He cannot live, I hope; and must not die In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.-- There's nothing serious in mortality: