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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For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,-- Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, And part in just proportion our small power.-- Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet [To RICHMOND.] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror! Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword And part in just proportion our small power.-- May be the devil: and the devil hath power To whom I will retail my conquest won, Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors; The last was I that felt thy tyranny: That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;