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'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, At least we'll die with harness on our back. And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, And the place death, considering who thou art, O, I die, Horatio; The queen, my lord, is dead. Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in the holes Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is? Then love-devouring death do what he dare,-- But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger I have bewept a worthy husband's death, But let it be.--Horatio, I am dead; Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead? If he were dead, what would betide on me? time to do't ;--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, Was pitied of Macbeth:--marry, he was dead:-- Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels; The readiest way to make the wench amends