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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I fear no uncles dead. The soldiers' music and the rites of war My babes were destined to a fairer death, O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death: If he were dead, what would betide on me? Which by his death hath lost much majesty. Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die!-- That death and nature do contend about them, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, That fair for which love groan'd for, and would die, The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; Richard the Second here was hack'd to death: Of his own just remove: the people muddied,
I hear some noise within: dear love, adieu!-- Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? Would create soldiers, make our women fight, O, he hath kept an evil diet long, Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.