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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Why, I am glad on't; this is well,--stand up,-- I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, That fair for which love groan'd for, and would die, Which, in his nonage, council under him, For it excels your first: or if it did not, Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd. The head and source of all your son's distemper. To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Unsafe the while, that we So, thanks to all at once, and to each one, Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Was't not the way? About a prophecy which says that G To try conclusions, in the basket creep With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must; Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Romeo can, I am afraid to think what I have done;