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.
.
Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death! The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword, To cure this deadly grief. Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, Became him like the leaving it; he died Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!-- Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Would create soldiers, make our women fight, Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news! The horrible conceit of death and night, To cure this deadly grief. And die ere men can say God save the queen! - And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. My father is not dead, for all your saying. To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.