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 are they so upset? We must with all our majesty and skill Alack the day!--he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, A grave? O, no, a lanthorn, slaught'red youth, And shamefully my hopes by you are butcher'd. Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd: Doth make against me, of this direful murder; I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; Didst thou not kill this king? Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.-- Five have I slain to-day instead of him.-- Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. What if it be a poison, which the friar Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:-- Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters; Yet thou didst kill my children.