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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The secret'st man of blood.--What is the night? Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes Who made thee, then, a bloody minister Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd! As it is won with blood, lost be it so! Bleed, bleed, poor country! Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,-- Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, | They bleed on both sides.--How is it, my lord? |
Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? The table round.--There's blood upon thy face. O God!--did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; As it is won with blood, lost be it so! The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins,