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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Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news!
O my accursed womb, the bed of death! Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face? To cure this deadly grief. Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death? Or die a soldier as I liv'd a king. Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Alas, alas!--Help, help! My lady's dead!-- My babes were destined to a fairer death, Are here arriv'd, give order that these bodies He cannot live, I hope; and must not die I must be gone and live, or stay and die. An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i' the streets, The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, We don't expect you to come to us with tremendous business knowledge or a successful track record. His nurse! why she was dead ere thou wast born. God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers; An older and a better soldier none | Of his own just remove: the people muddied, |
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,