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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Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet - Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. Long story short. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose? These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck; Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet For beauty, starv'd with her severity, Larded all with sweet flowers; Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st; The devil to his fellow; and delight Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp No more, sweet Hamlet.