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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That they which brought me in my master's hate, Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate By heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee, I hate not you for her proud arrogance. Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him, Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; O, no! alas, I rather hate myself - More hateful to mine ear.
And turn you all your hatred now on me? See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That they which brought me in my master's hate, You are deceiv'd, your brother Gloster hates you. By doing damned hate upon thyself? Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word