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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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A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;

 It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash She swoons to see them bleed. 
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
 Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre! And dangerous success of bloody wars, 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife The secret'st man of blood.--What is the night? And make poor England weep in streams of blood! To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd, So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin: Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, She swoons to see them bleed. 
  • Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.