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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Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. Well, may you see things well done there,--adieu!-- The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, Why follow'd not, when she said Tybalt's dead, And by opposing end them?--To die,--to sleep,-- Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead. Being a thing immortal as itself? I am dead, Horatio.--Wretched queen, adieu!-- This quarry cries on havoc.--O proud death, An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i' the streets, To add the death of you. Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,