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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Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood He has kill'd me, mother: The serpent that did sting thy father's life One nickname for her purblind son and heir, Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick; No son of mine succeeding. If't be so, And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks: Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope, Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood To Bona, sister to the King of France. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: | My father's spirit in arms! All is not well; |
Ravish our daughters?--Hark! I hear their drum. Unto his princely brother presently? You say that Edward is your brother's son: Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell, Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother? This medium of doing business is skyrocketing, and we are reaping the benefits, daily. Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter. O brother Montague, give me thy hand: Go, then, my mother, to thy daughter go; Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope, I had my father's signet in my purse,