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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There's but one down: the son is fled. Is my dear son with such sour company: A mother only mock'd with two fair babes; But yet to me they are strong. The queen his mother What is her mother? Being nothing like the noble duke my father. Dead art thou, dead!--alack, my child is dead; Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself. Had grac'd the tender temples of my child; Her brother is in secret come from France;
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; More than his father's death, that thus hath put him For joyful mother, one that wails the name; Daughter, well met. If it assume my noble father's person,
'One fair daughter, and no more, - It is a WIN-WIN for you and for us!!!
Ah, good father, A care-craz'd mother to a many sons, thou do for a father? More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers;