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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But I hear no; they say my son of York At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter, How doth the prince, and my young son of York? Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. Were it to call King Edward's widow sister,-- O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!-- Dead art thou, dead!--alack, my child is dead; Tell them, when that my mother went with child They are as children but one step below, A bloody deed!--almost as bad, good mother, The son of Clarence have I pent up close; What were I best to say? her father's brother Your children shall be kings. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? Roulette