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, But he, poor man, by your first order died, To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.-- The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? And die in terror of thy guiltiness! 'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, Than thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!" Anointed let me be with deadly venom, NEED SOME MONEY? TIRED OF YOUR JOB? To-day shalt thou behold a subject die Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.-- That, when the brains were out, the man would die, Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Proceed thus rashly in the villain's death, Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
Go to thy death-bed, Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward; Dead. Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen, Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?