Oyonale - Créations 3D et expériences graphiques
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Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature That is because the traitor murderer lives. Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love; Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, [Behind.] O, I am slain! My grandam told me he was murder'd there. The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.-- [Behind.] O, I am slain! Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. Murder! You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; So you must take your husbands.--Begin, murderer; pox, leave Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him; Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I, The parents live whose children thou hast butcher'd, Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it; To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband. Click here to learn more: