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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Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! Is not the causer of the timeless deaths To keep those many many bodies safe That ever I should live to see thee dead! As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, And humbly beg the death upon my knee, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead, Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death? O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Using those thoughts which should indeed have died Strange images of death. As thick as hail Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence, Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. O, farewell, honest soldier; Devoutly to be wish'd. To die,--to sleep;--