The Plays of William Shakspeare. ....T. Bensley, 1800 |
Kirjan sisältä
Tulokset 1 - 5 kokonaismäärästä 46
Sivu 27
... Bard . What news ? Gads . Cafe ye , cafe ye ; on with your visors ; there's money of the king's coming down the hill ; ' tis going to the king's exchequer . Fal . You lie , you rogue ; ' tis going to the king's tavern . Gads . There's ...
... Bard . What news ? Gads . Cafe ye , cafe ye ; on with your visors ; there's money of the king's coming down the hill ; ' tis going to the king's exchequer . Fal . You lie , you rogue ; ' tis going to the king's tavern . Gads . There's ...
Sivu 42
... Bard . ' Faith , I ran when I faw others run . P. Hen . Tell me now in earnest , How came Falstaff's fword fo hack'd ? Peto . Why , he hack'd it with his dagger ; and faid , he would fwear truth out of England , but he would make you ...
... Bard . ' Faith , I ran when I faw others run . P. Hen . Tell me now in earnest , How came Falstaff's fword fo hack'd ? Peto . Why , he hack'd it with his dagger ; and faid , he would fwear truth out of England , but he would make you ...
Sivu 43
William Shakespeare. Bard . What think you they portend ? P. Hen . Hot livers , and cold purses . Bard . Choler , my lord , if rightly taken . P. Hen . No , if rightly taken , halter . Re - enter FALSTAFF . Here comes lean Jack , here ...
William Shakespeare. Bard . What think you they portend ? P. Hen . Hot livers , and cold purses . Bard . Choler , my lord , if rightly taken . P. Hen . No , if rightly taken , halter . Re - enter FALSTAFF . Here comes lean Jack , here ...
Sivu 47
... Bard . O , my lord , my lord ; the fheriff , with a moft monftrous watch , is at the door . Fal . Out , you rogue ; play out the play : I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff . Re - enter Re - enter Hostess , bastily. ́ Hoft ...
... Bard . O , my lord , my lord ; the fheriff , with a moft monftrous watch , is at the door . Fal . Out , you rogue ; play out the play : I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff . Re - enter Re - enter Hostess , bastily. ́ Hoft ...
Sivu 66
... Bard . Sir John , you are fo fretful , you cannot live long . Fal . Why , there is it : -come , fing me a bawdy fong ; make me merry . I was as virtuously given , as a gentle- man need to be ; virtuous enough : fwore little ; diced ...
... Bard . Sir John , you are fo fretful , you cannot live long . Fal . Why , there is it : -come , fing me a bawdy fong ; make me merry . I was as virtuously given , as a gentle- man need to be ; virtuous enough : fwore little ; diced ...
Muita painoksia - Näytä kaikki
Yleiset termit ja lausekkeet
againſt anſwer art thou Bard Bardolph blood brother captain cauſe Colevile coufin crown doft doth duke duke of Burgundy England Engliſh Enter Exeunt Exit fack faid FALSTAFF fame father fear fhall fir John firſt foldiers fome foul fpirit France French ftand fuch fword give Glend grace Harfleur Harry hath hear heart heaven himſelf Hoft honour horfe horſe houſe Juft Kate Kath King HENRY Lady liege lord mafter majeſty miſtreſs moft moſt muſt myſelf never night noble Northumberland numbers peace Percy Pift Piſtol pleaſe Poins pr'ythee praiſe pray preſent prince Prince JOHN prince of Wales priſoners purpoſe rafcal reaſon ſay SCENE ſee Shal ſhall ſhould ſhow ſpeak ſtand ſtate ſuch ſweet tell thee theſe thoſe thou art thouſand unto uſe Weft whofe Whoſe yourſelf
Suositut otteet
Sivu 92 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Why ? Detraction will not suffer it : — therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere 'scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.
Sivu 37 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more : Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing- so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears. Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood...
Sivu 92 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
Sivu 82 - Tut, tut ! good enough to toss ; food for powder, food for powder ; they'll fill a pit, as well as better ; tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
Sivu 78 - 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.
Sivu 60 - Now entertain conjecture of a time, When creeping murmur, and the poring dark, Fills the wide vessel of the universe. From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch...
Sivu 52 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased ; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
Sivu 38 - Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding— which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
Sivu 51 - With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Sivu 8 - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burnt...