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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Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm; 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: Where is thy power, then, to beat him back? Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd, And yet I would not sleep:--merciful powers, Is with a mighty power landed at Milford Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, That excellent grand tyrant of the earth, Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, To whom I will retail my conquest won, - A greater power than we can contradict
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,