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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Dead for a ducat, dead! Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die!-- | With one that saw him die: who did report, |
But he, poor man, by your first order died, That's by me wounded. Both our remedies And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, To add the death of you. At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die!-- The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, Be Sure You Get Your Right Mail Messages.
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,-- And if I die no soul will pity me: Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! Ha, banishment? be merciful, say death; Which I have told thee, of my father's death: Of his own just remove: the people muddied, Go, bid the soldiers shoot. Long mayest thou live to wail thy children's death; Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!