The Plays and Poems of William Shakespeare Complete in 13 Volumes, Volume 6Outlook Company, 1899 |
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Pagina 178
... Host . My lord the prince , — P. Hen . How now , my lady the hostess ? what sayest thou to me ? Host . Marry , my lord , there is a nobleman of the court at door , would speak with you : he says he comes from your father . P. Hen . Give ...
... Host . My lord the prince , — P. Hen . How now , my lady the hostess ? what sayest thou to me ? Host . Marry , my lord , there is a nobleman of the court at door , would speak with you : he says he comes from your father . P. Hen . Give ...
Pagina 181
... it in king Cambyses ' vein . P. Hen . Well , here is my leg . Fal . And here is my speech . aside , nobility . Host . This is excellent sport , i'faith . Stand Fal . Weep not , sweet queen , for trickling SC . IV 181 K. HENRY IV.-Pt. I.
... it in king Cambyses ' vein . P. Hen . Well , here is my leg . Fal . And here is my speech . aside , nobility . Host . This is excellent sport , i'faith . Stand Fal . Weep not , sweet queen , for trickling SC . IV 181 K. HENRY IV.-Pt. I.
Pagina 182
... Host . O , the father , how he holds his countenance ! Fal . For God's sake , lords , convey my tristful queen , For tears do stop the flood - gates of her eyes . Host . O rare ! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever ...
... Host . O , the father , how he holds his countenance ! Fal . For God's sake , lords , convey my tristful queen , For tears do stop the flood - gates of her eyes . Host . O rare ! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever ...
Pagina 184
... a whoremaster , that I utterly deny . If sack and sugar be a fault , Heaven help the wicked ! If to be old and merry be a sin , then many an old host that I know is damned ; if to be fat be to 184 ACT IL K. HENRY IV.-Pt. I.
... a whoremaster , that I utterly deny . If sack and sugar be a fault , Heaven help the wicked ! If to be old and merry be a sin , then many an old host that I know is damned ; if to be fat be to 184 ACT IL K. HENRY IV.-Pt. I.
Pagina 185
... Host . O , my lord , my lord ! — Fal . Heigh , heigh ! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick ; what's the matter ? Host . The sheriff and all the watch are at the door : they are come to search the house . Shall I let them in ? Fal . Dost ...
... Host . O , my lord , my lord ! — Fal . Heigh , heigh ! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick ; what's the matter ? Host . The sheriff and all the watch are at the door : they are come to search the house . Shall I let them in ? Fal . Dost ...
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph BISHOP OF CARLISLE blood Blunt Boling Bolingbroke breath Bushy Colevile cousin crown dead death Doll doth Douglas Duch duke duke of Hereford earl Exeunt Exit eyes Falstaff Farewell father fear friends Gaunt give Glend Glendower grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven Henry of Monmouth Hereford hither Holinshed honor horse Host Hotspur Jack John of Gaunt KING HENRY KING RICHARD king's Lady Lancaster land liege live look lord majesty Mortimer Mowb Mowbray never night noble North Northumberland pardon peace Percy Pist Poins pr'ythee PRINCE JOHN prince of Wales Queen Re-enter Rich rogue SCENE Shakspere Shal sir John Sir John Falstaff sorrow soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle unto Westmoreland wilt Worcester word York
Populaire passages
Pagina 141 - I'll sup. Farewell. POINS. Farewell, my lord. [Exit.] PRINCE. I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyok'd humour 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 please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
Pagina 141 - And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So, when this loose behaviour I throw off And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes ; And like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
Pagina 313 - Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody...
Pagina 143 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
Pagina 246 - When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound; But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough.
Pagina 130 - The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engaged to fight, Forthwith a power of English shall we levy ; Whose arms were moulded in their mothers...
Pagina 284 - Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphinchamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singingman of Windsor; thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife.
Pagina 313 - With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? — Canst 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?
Pagina 120 - Ha ! ha ! keep time : how sour sweet music is, When time is broke and no proportion kept ! So is it in the music of men's lives.
Pagina 70 - Save our deposed bodies to the ground ? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.