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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Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? On pain of torture, from those bloody hands That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! It is legal. His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,-- There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, Wrong not her birth; she is of royal blood. have had so much blood in him? Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. To fight against that bloody homicide. Dream on, dream on of bloody deeds and death: