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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The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland;-- Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. O earth, which this blood drink'st, revenge his death! But as successively, from blood to blood, Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 'tis day, Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,-- As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood, Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland;-- Had she affections and warm youthful blood, Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm