The Plays, Том 5Otridge & Rackham, 1824 |
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... Northumberland : Henry Percy , his Son . Lord Ross . Lord Willoughby . Lord Fitzwater . Bishop of Carlisle . Abbot of Westminster . Lord Marshal ; and another Lord . Sir Pierce of Exton . Sir Stephen Scroop . Captain of a band of ...
... Northumberland : Henry Percy , his Son . Lord Ross . Lord Willoughby . Lord Fitzwater . Bishop of Carlisle . Abbot of Westminster . Lord Marshal ; and another Lord . Sir Pierce of Exton . Sir Stephen Scroop . Captain of a band of ...
Сторінка 28
... Northumberland . North . My liege , old Gaunt commends him to your majesty . K. Rich . What says he now ? North . Nay , nothing ; all is said : His tongue is now a stringless instrument ; Words , life , and all , old Lancaster has spent ...
... Northumberland . North . My liege , old Gaunt commends him to your majesty . K. Rich . What says he now ? North . Nay , nothing ; all is said : His tongue is now a stringless instrument ; Words , life , and all , old Lancaster has spent ...
Сторінка 32
... Northumberland : We three are but thyself ; and , speaking so , Thy words are but as thoughts ; therefore , be bold . North . Then thus : -I have from Port le Blanc , a bay In Brittany , received intelligence , That Harry Hereford ...
... Northumberland : We three are but thyself ; and , speaking so , Thy words are but as thoughts ; therefore , be bold . North . Then thus : -I have from Port le Blanc , a bay In Brittany , received intelligence , That Harry Hereford ...
Сторінка 35
... Northumberland , his young son Henry Percy , The lords of Ross , Beaumond , and Willoughby , With all their powerful friends , are fled to him . Bushy . Why have you not proclaim'd Northum- berland , And all the rest of the revolting ...
... Northumberland , his young son Henry Percy , The lords of Ross , Beaumond , and Willoughby , With all their powerful friends , are fled to him . Bushy . Why have you not proclaim'd Northum- berland , And all the rest of the revolting ...
Сторінка 38
... Northumberland , with Forces . Boling . How far is it , my lord , to Berkley now ? North . Believe me , noble lord , I am a stranger here in Glostershire . These high wild hills , and rough uneven ways , Draw out our miles , and make ...
... Northumberland , with Forces . Boling . How far is it , my lord , to Berkley now ? North . Believe me , noble lord , I am a stranger here in Glostershire . These high wild hills , and rough uneven ways , Draw out our miles , and make ...
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arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bishop of Carlisle blood Boling Bolingbroke brother captain Constable of France cousin crown dæmon dead death Doll dost doth Duch duke earl Eastcheap England English Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff Farewell father fear France French friends Gaunt give Glend Gloster grace grief hand Harfleur Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven honour horse Host John of Gaunt Kate Kath King Henry King Richard Lady liege live look lord majesty master never night noble Northumberland peace Percy Pist Pistol Poins pray prince Prince John prince of Wales Queen Rich SCENE Scroop Shal Shallow sir John Sir John Falstaff soldiers soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue uncle unto villain Westmoreland word York
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Сторінка 297 - O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars ; and at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment.
Сторінка 330 - 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.
Сторінка 21 - O, who can hold a fire in his hand, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, By bare imagination of a feast ? Or wallow naked in December snow, By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Сторінка 213 - Windsor, — thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me gossip Quickly...
Сторінка 131 - Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules : but beware instinct ; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter ; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life I, for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince.
Сторінка 50 - And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings : — How some have been depos'd, some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd ; Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd ; All murder'd : — For within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court : and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning...
Сторінка 322 - 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...
Сторінка 307 - 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...
Сторінка 366 - To-morrow is Saint Crispian ; " Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, " These wounds I had on Crispin's day." Old men forget ; yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember with advantages What feats he did that day : then shall our names, Familiar in...
Сторінка 235 - 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 ? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.