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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The people in the street cry Romeo, With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote And wet his grave with my repentant tears,-- Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; The cry is still, "They come:" our castle's strength Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,-- Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. Wherefore was that cry? And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it That tears shall drown the wind.--I have no spur Like Niobe, all tears;--why she, even she,-- Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: Throng to the bar, crying all Guilty! guilty! Throng to the bar, crying all Guilty! guilty! It is the cry of women, my good lord. Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. Whips out his rapier, cries 'A rat, a rat!'