What bloody man is that?
Unseamed from the nave to the chaps,
Smoked with bloody execution,
Fix'd head upon out battlements.
With twenty trenched gashes on his head,
As cannons overcharged with double cracks.
Wash this filthy witness from your hand,
Will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine.
Will all great Neptunes ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?
The sleepy grooms with blood.
The sleeping, and the dead are but as pictures,
The least death to nature.
Charnel-houses and our graves must send,
It will have blood; they say blood will have blood
Blood hath shed ere now.
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