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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Doth make against me, of this direful murder; Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, Your visitation shall receive such thanks Itself for being there? It's a proven fact. No marvel, lord, though it affrighted you; He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, And your good graces both have well proceeded, His majesty hath straitly given in charge But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. 'Tis his main hope: It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. All causes shall give way: I am in blood Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. Where is the county's page that rais'd the watch?-- O, a pit of clay for to be made Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes: Urge neither charity nor shame to me: | But break my heart,--for I must hold my tongue! |