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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Mine and my father's death come not upon thee, Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead? She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day! Than death can yield me here by my abode. Go, bid the soldiers shoot. Say, have I thy consent that they shall die? And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-- Died every day she lived. Fare-thee-well! Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, | Shot from the deadly level of a gun, |
Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! O wretched state! O bosom black as death! What sights of ugly death within my eyes! And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead.-- Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!-- With one that saw him die: who did report, That death and nature do contend about them, Long die thy happy days before thy death;