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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choose but weep, to think they would lay him i' the cold ground. To think it should leave crying, and say 'Ay:' And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art; Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: For I myself have many tears to wash Weep our sad bosoms empty. And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. Weep our sad bosoms empty. Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. Your eyes drop millstones when fools' eyes fall tears: They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, Our tears are not yet brew'd.