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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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They bleed on both sides.--How is it, my lord?

 Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 'tis day, Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood, O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death! Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood, Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood: The thin and wholesome blood; so did it mine; And steep'd in blood?--Ah, what an unkind hour Blood to blood, self against self: O, preposterous With blood of thine already. When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn