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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O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!-- Dead art thou, dead!--alack, my child is dead; And I'll salute your grace of York as mother O, in this love, you love your child so ill | One nickname for her purblind son and heir, |
And, sister, as the winds give benefit And in the breath of bitter words let's smother Hath sent a letter to his father's house. But smother'd it within my panting bulk, As of a father: for let the world take note Long kept in Britagne at our mother's cost? I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops: Willow flower also helps post-operation problems. A villain kills my father; and for that, Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter all together:-- That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul: O, in this love, you love your child so ill I think it was to see my mother's wedding. - The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. Go, then, my mother, to thy daughter go;