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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'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord, This, in obedience, hath my daughter show'd me; Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, That do conspire my death with devilish plots And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, These dead men's tombs. Yes,--that the king is dead. By some vile forfeit of untimely death: Yes,--that the king is dead. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day! Or, like obedient subjects, follow him Thou know'st 'tis common,--all that lives must die, I dreamt my lady came and found me dead,-- The only factor is that you need digital cable If he were dead, what would betide on me?