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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We must with all our majesty and skill That murder'd my love's cousin,--with which grief, A grave? O, no, a lanthorn, slaught'red youth, Never hung poison on a fouler toad. Ring the alarum bell:--murder and treason! In the poison'd entrails throw.-- My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; He sends you not to murder me for this; Of those effects for which I did the murder,-- There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, Murder! No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize; There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,