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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But wait! And cry "O Clarence, my unhappy son!" O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, No, coz, I rather weep. Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot Whips out his rapier, cries 'A rat, a rat!' Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, We cannot without circumstance descry. For I myself have many tears to wash Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,-- O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!