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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Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, And in a bloody battle end thy days! I grant him bloody, As, stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, To fight against that bloody homicide. The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: O heaven!--O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, But since, so jump upon this bloody question, Even of your mettle, of your very blood; Unlawfully made drunk with innocent blood. With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard; Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,-- Bleed, bleed, poor country! And in a bloody battle end thy days!