Oyonale - Créations 3D et expériences graphiques
ShakeSpam
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The sin of my ingratitude even now For I repent me that the duke is slain. Throng to the bar, crying all Guilty! guilty! Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame, And wet his grave with my repentant tears,-- O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!-- As I intend to prosper and repent! Who, then, shall blame That ever yet this land was guilty of. Try what repentance can: what can it not? That ever yet this land was guilty of. Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, And then it started, like a guilty thing And wet his grave with my repentant tears,-- As in their birth,--wherein they are not guilty, Hence both are gone; with conscience and remorse And die in terror of thy guiltiness! Hence both are gone; with conscience and remorse Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd. How that the guilty kindred of the queen She hath had too much wrong; and I repent How that the guilty kindred of the queen Give me my sin again. Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame,