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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Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree; Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder!-- The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!-- O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile, And that bare vowel I shall poison more My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. He sends you not to murder me for this; What men of name are slain on either side? To kill their gracious father? damned fact! No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt Your skill shall, like a star in the darkest night, Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, Murder thy breath in middle of a word, Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre! Like to a murdering piece, in many places