The Plays of William Shakspeare. ....T. Bensley, 1800 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 51.
Pàgina 1
... peace to pant , And breathe short - winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in fronds afar remote . No more the thirsty Erinnys of this foil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood ; No more fhall trenching war channel ...
... peace to pant , And breathe short - winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in fronds afar remote . No more the thirsty Erinnys of this foil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood ; No more fhall trenching war channel ...
Pàgina 17
... Peace , coufin , fay no more : And now I will unclafp a fecret book , And to your quick - conceiving difcontents I'll read you matter deep and dangerous ; As full of peril , and advent'rous spirit , As to o'er - walk a current , roaring ...
... Peace , coufin , fay no more : And now I will unclafp a fecret book , And to your quick - conceiving difcontents I'll read you matter deep and dangerous ; As full of peril , and advent'rous spirit , As to o'er - walk a current , roaring ...
Pàgina 25
... Peace , ye fat - kidney'd raícal ; What a brawling doft thou keep ? Fal . Where's Poins , Hal ? P. Hen . He is walk'd up to the top of the hill ; I'll go feek him . [ Pretends to feek POINS . Fal . I am accurft to rob in that thief's ...
... Peace , ye fat - kidney'd raícal ; What a brawling doft thou keep ? Fal . Where's Poins , Hal ? P. Hen . He is walk'd up to the top of the hill ; I'll go feek him . [ Pretends to feek POINS . Fal . I am accurft to rob in that thief's ...
Pàgina 26
... Peace , ye fat - guts ! lie down ; lay thine ear close to the ground , and lift if thou canst hear the tread of travellers . Fal . Have you any levers to , lift me up again , being down ? ' Sblood , I'll not bear mine own flesh fo far ...
... Peace , ye fat - guts ! lie down ; lay thine ear close to the ground , and lift if thou canst hear the tread of travellers . Fal . Have you any levers to , lift me up again , being down ? ' Sblood , I'll not bear mine own flesh fo far ...
Pàgina 45
... Peace , good pint - pot ; peace , good ticklebrain.- Harry , I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time , but also how thou art accompanied : for though the camomile , the more it is trodden on , the fafter it grows , yet youth ...
... Peace , good pint - pot ; peace , good ticklebrain.- Harry , I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time , but also how thou art accompanied : for though the camomile , the more it is trodden on , the fafter it grows , yet youth ...
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...