The Plays and Poems of ShakespeareBell & Daldy, 1878 |
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Pagina 17
... Exit Falstaff . ' The value of a coin called real or royal , on which word a quibble is here intended . * Fine weather at All - hallown tide ( i . e All Saints , Note : . ) is called an All - hallown summer . SIAK . VII . B Poins . Now ...
... Exit Falstaff . ' The value of a coin called real or royal , on which word a quibble is here intended . * Fine weather at All - hallown tide ( i . e All Saints , Note : . ) is called an All - hallown summer . SIAK . VII . B Poins . Now ...
Pagina 19
... Exit Poins . P. Hen . I know you all , and will awhile uphold The unyoked humor of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun ; Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world , That , when he ...
... Exit Poins . P. Hen . I know you all , and will awhile uphold The unyoked humor of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun ; Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world , That , when he ...
Pagina 20
... Exit . The same . SCENE III . Another room in the palace . Enter KING HENRY , NORTHUMBERLAND , WORCESTER HOTSPUR , Sir Walter blUNT , and others . K. Hen . My blood hath been too cold and tem- perate , Unapt to stir at these indignities ...
... Exit . The same . SCENE III . Another room in the palace . Enter KING HENRY , NORTHUMBERLAND , WORCESTER HOTSPUR , Sir Walter blUNT , and others . K. Hen . My blood hath been too cold and tem- perate , Unapt to stir at these indignities ...
Pagina 21
... Exit Worcester [ to Northumberland . Yea , my good lord . Those prisoners , in your highness ' name demanded , Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took , Were , as he says , not with such strength denied As is deliver'd to your majesty ...
... Exit Worcester [ to Northumberland . Yea , my good lord . Those prisoners , in your highness ' name demanded , Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took , Were , as he says , not with such strength denied As is deliver'd to your majesty ...
Pagina 44
... Exit Servant . Hot . What say'st thou , my lady ? Lady P. What is it carries you away ? Hot . Why , my horse , my love , my horse . Lady P. Out , you mad - headed ape ! A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen , As you are toss'd with ...
... Exit Servant . Hot . What say'st thou , my lady ? Lady P. What is it carries you away ? Hot . Why , my horse , my love , my horse . Lady P. Out , you mad - headed ape ! A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen , As you are toss'd with ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
Alençon archbishop of York art thou Bardolph blood brother captain CONSTABLE OF FRANCE cousin crown dæmon dead death devil didst Doll dost doth Douglas duke duke of Burgundy earl Eastcheap England English Enter KING HENRY Exeunt Exit faith father fear France French friends give Glendower Gower grace Harfleur Harry Harry Percy hath hear heart Heaven honor horse Host hostess Hotspur humor Jack Kate Kath knave Lady liege live look lord majesty master Shallow Mortimer never night noble Northumberland numbers peace Percy Pistol Poins pr'ythee pray PRINCE HENRY PRINCE JOHN prince of Wales rascal Re-enter rogue sack SCENE Scroop Shal Shrewsbury sir John Falstaff soldier speak sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast unto Westmoreland wilt
Pasaje populare
Pagina 297 - A' made a finer end, and went away an it had been any christom child ; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Pagina 333 - The intertissued robe of gold and pearl, The farced title running 'fore the king, The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp That beats upon the high shore of this world...
Pagina 121 - twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit ? I lie, I am no counterfeit : to die, is to be a counterfeit ; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man : but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion ; in the which better part I have saved my life.
Pagina 72 - To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded...
Pagina 267 - Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it, Since his addiction was to courses vain ; His companies unletter'd, rude, and shallow ; His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports ; And never noted in him any study, Any retirement, any sequestration From open haunts and popularity. Ely. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle, And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality...
Pagina 275 - Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone.
Pagina 87 - I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Pagina 339 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it...
Pagina 118 - I better brook the loss of brittle life Than those proud titles thou hast won of me ; They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh : — But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool ; And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop.
Pagina 274 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their ( emperor...