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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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From the dead temples of this bloody wretch

 Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes To ears of flesh and blood.--List, list, O, list!-- They bleed on both sides.--How is it, my lord? Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,-- Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. 
Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,

 A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; You can trackdown old flames from college, or you can dig up some dirt on your boss tomake sure you get that next promotion!  The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: