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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O prince!--O husband!--O, the blood is spill'd Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 'tis day, And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed. Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. The secret'st man of blood.--What is the night? For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood: His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; Excitements of my reason and my blood, Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, A bloody deed!--almost as bad, good mother, Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Had she affections and warm youthful blood, My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain