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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To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Bleed, bleed, poor country! And dangerous success of bloody wars, Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. Even of your mettle, of your very blood; But since, so jump upon this bloody question, Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre! My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,-- O heaven!--O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.-- The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood, Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd,