The Plays of William Shakspeare. ....T. Bensley, 1800 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 58.
Pàgina 8
... fir John Sack - and - Sugar ? Jack , how agrees the devil and thee about thy foul , that thou foldest him on Good - friday last , for a cup of Madeira , and a cold capon's leg ? P. Hen . Sir John ftands to his word , the devil shall ...
... fir John Sack - and - Sugar ? Jack , how agrees the devil and thee about thy foul , that thou foldest him on Good - friday last , for a cup of Madeira , and a cold capon's leg ? P. Hen . Sir John ftands to his word , the devil shall ...
Pàgina 24
... for the hangman ; for , I know , thou worship'ft faint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may . Gads . What talk'ft thou to me of the hangman ? if I bang , I'll make a fat pair of gallows : for , if I hang , old fir John hangs with ...
... for the hangman ; for , I know , thou worship'ft faint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may . Gads . What talk'ft thou to me of the hangman ? if I bang , I'll make a fat pair of gallows : for , if I hang , old fir John hangs with ...
Pàgina 27
... fir John Paunch ? Fal . Indeed , I am not John of Gaunt , your grandfa- but yet no coward , Hal . ther ; P. Hen . Well , we leave that to the proof . Poins . Sirrah Jack , thy horse stands behind the hedge ; when thou need'ft him ...
... fir John Paunch ? Fal . Indeed , I am not John of Gaunt , your grandfa- but yet no coward , Hal . ther ; P. Hen . Well , we leave that to the proof . Poins . Sirrah Jack , thy horse stands behind the hedge ; when thou need'ft him ...
Pàgina 35
William Shakespeare. Fran . Anon , fir . - Pray you , stay a little , my lord . P ... fir , who do you mean ? P. Hen . Why then , your brown baftard is your only ... John , with half a dozen more , are at the door ; Shall I let them in ? P ...
William Shakespeare. Fran . Anon , fir . - Pray you , stay a little , my lord . P ... fir , who do you mean ? P. Hen . Why then , your brown baftard is your only ... John , with half a dozen more , are at the door ; Shall I let them in ? P ...
Pàgina 43
... fir John Bracy from your fa- ther ; you must to the court in the morning . That fame mad fellow of the north , Percy ; and he of Wales , that gave Amaimon the baftinado , and made Lucifer cuckold , and swore the devil his true liegeman ...
... fir John Bracy from your fa- ther ; you must to the court in the morning . That fame mad fellow of the north , Percy ; and he of Wales , that gave Amaimon the baftinado , and made Lucifer cuckold , and swore the devil his true liegeman ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Plays of William Shakespeare,: In Eight Volumes, with the Corrections ... William Shakespeare,Samuel Johnson Visualització completa - 1765 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
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
Passatges populars
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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!
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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...