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appears arms Bard Bardolph bear better blood brother called Cath cause comes common correction course crown death doth Duke Earl England English Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair fall Falstaff father fear folio France French friends Gent give Grace hand Harry hast hath head hear heart Heaven Henry Highness hold Holinshed honour horse Host keep King King's Lady leave live look lord Majesty March Master means nature never night noble old copies old text once original peace person Pist play Poet Pointz poor pray present Prince probably Queen SCENE seems sense Shakespeare Shal Sir John soldiers soul speak stand sword tell term thee thing thou thought true
Strana 209 - O Sleep, 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 perfumed chambers of the great...
Strana 52 - Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, 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.
Strana 21 - The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts; 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...
Strana 96 - 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.
Strana 52 - O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English, Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Strana 245 - Wol. Why, well ; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now ; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
Strana 210 - 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.
Strana 7 - 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...
Strana 78 - I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree ; And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry : 'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.