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 son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire: What! I that kill'd her husband and his father, Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. An if a man did need a poison now, | The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear; |
Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder!-- And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd. He has kill'd me, mother: To fight against that bloody homicide. For thee to slaughter: for my daughters, Richard,-- There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried, "Murder!" Come, cordial and not poison, go with me Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery. No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize; The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire: A second time I kill my husband dead There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?