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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The death I gave him. So again, good-night.-- Dead art thou, dead!--alack, my child is dead; Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death! All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; Well, may you see things well done there,--adieu!-- To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd: He never gave commandment for their death. At least we'll die with harness on our back. Or, like obedient subjects, follow him In deadly hate the one against the other: Than death can yield me here by my abode. Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death? I would they were, that I might die at once; But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them. But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.-- And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, Have of your audience been most free and bounteous; He cannot live, I hope; and must not die At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die!--