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.
.
Yet had we not determin'd he should die That are but mutes or audience to this act, At least we'll die with harness on our back. Death lies on her like an untimely frost That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, I fear no uncles dead. Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. Told the sad story of my father's death, As one that had been studied in his death, By Sinel's death I know I am Thane of Glamis; Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; I hear some noise within: dear love, adieu!-- But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them. Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin. All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; But that the dread of something after death,-- That unsubstantial death is amorous;