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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Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward; God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers; O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds - Than death can yield me here by my abode.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die Were for myself: and so, my lord, adieu. And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, An older and a better soldier none All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude, These dead men's tombs. After the battle let George Stanley die. And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death By some vile forfeit of untimely death: Under the moon, can save the thing from death But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. Rivers that died at Pomfret! despair and die!