"Imbrue" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... hold your murthering hands, Or if that needes they must be washt in blood, Imbrue them heere, heere in Cornelias brest. 770 Ay mee as I stood looking from the Ship (Accursed shippe that did not sinke and drowne: And so haue sau'd me from so loath'd a sight) Thee to behold what did betide my Lord, My Pompey deere (nor Pompey now ...
— The Tragedy Of Caesar's Revenge • Anonymous
... thine the voice that commanded my brother to imbrue his hands in the blood of his children—to strangle that angel of sweetness his wife? Has he not vowed my death, and the death of Pleyel, at thy bidding? Hast thou not made him the butcher of his family; changed him who was the glory of his species into worse than brute; robbed him of ...
— Wieland; or The Transformation - An American Tale • Charles Brockden Brown
... very presence, if I did it, would, I feel, overpower and paralyze me with a sense of my guilt? Yet I struck her—I struck her; but her spirit trampled mine in the dust—she humiliated me. Away! I am not like other men. Yet for her sake this miserable wretch shall live. I will not imbrue my hands in his blood, but shall place him where he will never cross me more. It is one satisfaction to me, and security besides, that he knows neither his real name nor lineage; and now he shall ...
— The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain - The Works of William Carleton, Volume One • William Carleton
... word. By repeating a form of words after a gentleman in a glazed cap and black raiment, we had suffered change into base assassins, the offscouring of society, starving for want of employment, and willing to "imbrue our coarse fists in fraternal blood" for the sum of eleven dollars a month, besides hard tack, salt junk, and the hope of a Confederate States bond apiece for bounty, or free loot in the treasuries of Florida, Mississippi, and Arkansas, after the war. How carefully ...
— Atlantic Monthly, Volume 8, Issue 45, July, 1861 • Various
... yonder Chief!' A lock from Blanche's tresses fair He blended with her bridegroom's hair; The mingled braid in blood he dyed, And placed it on his bonnet-side: 'By Him whose word is truth, I swear, No other favour will I wear, Till this sad token I imbrue In the best blood of Roderick Dhu!— But hark! what means yon faint halloo? The chase is up,—but they shall know, The stag at bay 's a dangerous foe.' Barred from the known but guarded way, Through copse ...
— The Lady of the Lake • Sir Walter Scott
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