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 wretched state! O bosom black as death! Which in his death were perfect. Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i' the streets, But didst thou see them dead? This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. But she's best married that dies married young. All mortal consequences have pronounc'd me thus,-- O, I die, Horatio; Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead? Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Was pitied of Macbeth:--marry, he was dead:-- Thou know'st 'tis common,--all that lives must die, For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp; Be not so long to speak; I long to die, And leave him all; life, living, all is death's.