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Cliquer sur les vers pour les voir dans leur contexte. Les pièces de Shakespeare sont disponibles auprès du Projet Gutenberg.

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My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain

 Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin:  Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. Who made thee, then, a bloody minister On pain of torture, from those bloody hands On pain of torture, from those bloody hands My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; 
It is the bloody business which informs

  With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain Dabbled in blood; and he shriek'd out aloud But as successively, from blood to blood, I grant him bloody, When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands Alack, alack! what blood is this which stains  With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Bleed, bleed, poor country! Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood, Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood, Have you ever noticed how some men are able to attract any woman they want with hardly any effort?  And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!