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; - In the poison'd entrails throw.--
Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile, Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, I had a Henry, till a Richard kill'd him: [Aside.] It is the poison'd cup; it is too late. The slaughter of the prince that ow'd that crown, If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation
Upon the talk of the poisoning?-- The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: