Shakespere's Works, Հատոր 5D. Appleton, 1897 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 61–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 6
... death , Suggest his soon - believing adversaries , And consequently , like a traitor coward , Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams of blood : Which blood , like sacrificing Abel's , cries , Even from the tongueless caverns of ...
... death , Suggest his soon - believing adversaries , And consequently , like a traitor coward , Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams of blood : Which blood , like sacrificing Abel's , cries , Even from the tongueless caverns of ...
Էջ 7
... death , I slew him not ; but to mine own disgrace Neglected my sworn duty in that case . For you , my noble Lord of Lancaster , The honourable father to my foe , Once did I lay an ambush for your life , A trespass that doth vex my ...
... death , I slew him not ; but to mine own disgrace Neglected my sworn duty in that case . For you , my noble Lord of Lancaster , The honourable father to my foe , Once did I lay an ambush for your life , A trespass that doth vex my ...
Էջ 8
... death that lives upon my grave , To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have . I am disgrac'd , impeach'd , and baffled here , Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear , The which no balm can cure but his heart - blood Which ...
... death that lives upon my grave , To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have . I am disgrac'd , impeach'd , and baffled here , Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear , The which no balm can cure but his heart - blood Which ...
Էջ 10
... death . Gaunt . God's is the quarrel ; for God's substitute , His deputy anointed in his sight , Hath caus'd his death ; the which if wrongfully , Let heaven revenge , for I may never lift An angry arm against his minister . Duch ...
... death . Gaunt . God's is the quarrel ; for God's substitute , His deputy anointed in his sight , Hath caus'd his death ; the which if wrongfully , Let heaven revenge , for I may never lift An angry arm against his minister . Duch ...
Էջ 13
... death , no person be so bold Or daring - hardy as to touch the lists , Except the marshal and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs . Boling . Lord marshal , let me kiss my sovereign's hand , And bow my knee before his ...
... death , no person be so bold Or daring - hardy as to touch the lists , Except the marshal and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs . Boling . Lord marshal , let me kiss my sovereign's hand , And bow my knee before his ...
Common terms and phrases
Archbishop of York arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bishop of CARLISLE blood Blunt Boling Bolingbroke Bushy Colevile cousin crown Davy dead death Doll doth Douglas Duch Duke Duke of Hereford Earl Eastcheap Exeunt Exit faith Falstaff farewell father fear friends Gaunt give Glend Glendower grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven Hereford hither honour horse Hotspur Jack John of Gaunt JOHN OF LANCASTER King HENRY King Richard Lady Lanc liege live look lord majesty Master Shallow Mortimer Mowb Mowbray never night noble North Northumberland pardon peace Percy Pist Poins pray Prince Prince of Wales prithee Queen Quick Re-enter Rich rogue SCENE Shal Shrewsbury Sir John Sir John Falstaff sorrow soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue uncle Westmoreland wilt word York Zounds
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 48 - For within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court : and there the antick sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp ; Allowing him a breath, a little scene To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks ; Infusing him with self and vain conceit, — As if this flesh, which walls about our life, Were brass impregnable ; and, humour'd thus, Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and — farewell, king!
Էջ 236 - 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.
Էջ 236 - O gentle 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 perfum'd chambers of the great...
Էջ 134 - 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 faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears.
Էջ 174 - 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
Էջ 103 - 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, and trimly...
Էջ 18 - 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 k summer's heat?
Էջ 48 - I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief, Need friends : — Subjected thus, How can you say to me — I am a king ? Car.
Էջ 66 - Rich. Give me the crown. — Here, cousin, seize the crown ; On this side my hand, and on that side, thine. Now is this golden crown like a deep well That owes two buckets filling one another ; The emptier ever dancing in the air, The other down, unseen, and full of water : That bucket down, and full of tears, am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
Էջ 75 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home ; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.