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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Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death That never dreamt on aught but butcheries: Five have I slain to-day instead of him.-- Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, It is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain; And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him; Forbes Ranked #1 Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder, And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! But banished to kill me; banished? Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; I had a Henry, till a Richard kill'd him: Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man, And all those twenty could but kill one life. Never came poison from so sweet a place. If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried, "Murder!" My brother kill'd no man,--his fault was thought, - And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd.
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,