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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My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. If ever he have child, abortive be it, With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; But I hear no; they say my son of York But by his mother was perforce withheld. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife, Was not incensed by his subtle mother And only in that safety died her brothers. My brother shall know of it: and so I thank you for your good Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death! Her brother is in secret come from France; Be to thy person, noble father-in-law! Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? What, is my daughter gone to Friar Lawrence? A sister driven into desperate terms,-- Thy mother's name is ominous to children. Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd: Madam, your mother craves a word with you. Thou still hast been the father of good news.