Oyonale - Créations 3D et expériences graphiques
ShakeSpam
Cliquer sur les vers pour les voir dans leur contexte. Les pièces de Shakespeare sont disponibles auprès du Projet Gutenberg.
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Murder thy breath in middle of a word, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd - But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:
Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain; Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; From the murderer's gibbet throw There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now! Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, | But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? |
Whose unavoided eye is murderous. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,
I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him; That never dreamt on aught but butcheries: Murder'd her kinsman.--O, tell me, friar, tell me, An if a man did need a poison now, Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. To their vile murders: roasted in wrath and fire, To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: