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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The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, And brief, good mother; for I am in haste. And so have I a noble father lost; My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul. Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace? As being got, your father then in France, As of a father: for let the world take note Where is my father and my mother, nurse? King, father, royal Dane; O, answer me! That stir the king against the duke my brother. I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge Going to find a barefoot brother out, The unity the king thy brother made As loath to lose him, not your father's death; The son and heir of old Tiberio. And here receive we from our father Stanley His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; My daughter he hath wedded: I will die.