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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Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. Throng to the bar, crying all Guilty! guilty! Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. For I myself have many tears to wash Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match. Wherefore was that cry? If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Our tears are not yet brew'd. O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, So dear I lov'd the man that I must weep. Bid Gloster think of this, and he will weep. For I myself have many tears to wash Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,-- Shop Game Link now! Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.