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.
.
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, Blood to blood, self against self: O, preposterous The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink. His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; I have no more sons of the royal blood O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives; have had so much blood in him? Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. Blood to blood, self against self: O, preposterous My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,-- A bloody tyrant and a homicide; ABSOLUTELY FREE Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. They bleed on both sides.--How is it, my lord? Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind, Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle;