Book, Chapter

 1    1,  5|  sprinkled and wet with human blood: whereunto Socrates laughing
 2    1,  5|     thou art not wet with the blood of men, but art embrued
 3    2,  8|      kindred to thy mother by blood, but also by nourice, for
 4    3, 15|      such as were hanged, the blood which she had reserved of
 5    4, 19|     be traced by the drops of blood: which don we took Lamathus
 6    4, 19|    and spewed great flakes of blood, and presently died. Then
 7    4, 22|        and the enemies of thy blood, hath armed themselves against
 8    4, 22|   grievously wounded that the blood followed, and thereby of
 9    5, 28|    although it runne downe of blood, yet would he not cease
10    6, 32|     to the effusion of humane blood; his name was Thrasillus.
11    6, 33| delight in effusion of humane blood. At these words the tempest
12    6, 34|        some washed away their blood with the water of the running
13    7, 43|     my master wiping away the blood of the blow which he received