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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And only in that safety died her brothers. With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Dream on thy cousins smothered in the Tower: And there the little souls of Edward's children May fright the hopeful mother at the view; Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for father? my father died:--they say he made a good end,--
And I'll salute your grace of York as mother And with my child my joys are buried! Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, I have a daughter,--have whilst she is mine,-- My father,--methinks I see my father. Farewell, dear father. As much to you, good sister! Whither away?