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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A base foul stone, made precious by the foil Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder!-- That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, That monster custom, who all sense doth eat, That monster custom, who all sense doth eat, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much That foul defacer of God's handiwork; Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven As low as to the fiends! A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? Being held a foe, he may not have access That beetles o'er his base into the sea, Where the devil should this Romeo be?-- Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.