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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Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, When thou shalt tell the process of their death.
Who knows not that the gentle duke is dead? Now, fair befall you! he deserv'd his death; And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! He is dead and gone, lady, Is mortals' chiefest enemy. This is thy sheath [stabs herself]; there rest, and let me die. Became him like the leaving it; he died Had I but died an hour before this chance, Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels; And for his death no wind shall breathe; I will not be afraid of death and bane, As loath to lose him, not your father's death; God knows I will not do it to the death. The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword, 'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder