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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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On pain of torture, from those bloody hands

 Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin: The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash 
O bloody Richard!--miserable England!
 Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, And in a bloody battle end thy days! Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland;-- The nearer bloody. 
Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
 O heaven!--O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! Even of your mettle, of your very blood; 
Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,

 To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; From the dead temples of this bloody wretch Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,