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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Then love-devouring death do what he dare,-- How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! My father's death,-- Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, I fear no uncles dead. As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, | In riddles and affairs of death; |
Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? Why then, God's soldier be he! James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead: Devoutly to be wish'd. To die,--to sleep;-- Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; 'Tis death to me to be at enmity;