The winter's tale. The life and death of King John. The tragedy of King Richard II. The first part of King Henry IV. The second part of King Henry IV. The life of King Henry VG. Barrie & Son, 1894 |
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Page 18
... Or a half - moon made with a pen . Sec . Lady . ΙΟ Who taught you this ? Mam . I learnt it out of women's faces . Pray now What colour are your eyebrows ? Blue , my lord . First Lady . Mam . 18 [ ACT II . THE WINTER'S TALE .
... Or a half - moon made with a pen . Sec . Lady . ΙΟ Who taught you this ? Mam . I learnt it out of women's faces . Pray now What colour are your eyebrows ? Blue , my lord . First Lady . Mam . 18 [ ACT II . THE WINTER'S TALE .
Page 19
... pray you , sit by us , And tell's a tale . Mam . Merry or sad shall't be ? Her . As merry as you will . Mam . A sad tale's best for winter : I have one Of sprites and goblins . Her . Let's have that , good sir . Come on , sit down ...
... pray you , sit by us , And tell's a tale . Mam . Merry or sad shall't be ? Her . As merry as you will . Mam . A sad tale's best for winter : I have one Of sprites and goblins . Her . Let's have that , good sir . Come on , sit down ...
Page 25
... pray you , To see her women ? any of them ? Emilia ? Gaol . So please you , madam , To put apart these your attendants , I Shall bring Emilia forth . Paul . Withdraw yourselves . Gaol . I pray now , call her . [ Exeunt Gentleman and ...
... pray you , To see her women ? any of them ? Emilia ? Gaol . So please you , madam , To put apart these your attendants , I Shall bring Emilia forth . Paul . Withdraw yourselves . Gaol . I pray now , call her . [ Exeunt Gentleman and ...
Page 30
... pray you , do not push me ; I'll be gone . Look to your babe , my lord ; ' tis yours : Jove send her A better guiding spirit ! What needs these hands ? You , that are thus so tender o'er his follies , Will never do him good , not one of ...
... pray you , do not push me ; I'll be gone . Look to your babe , my lord ; ' tis yours : Jove send her A better guiding spirit ! What needs these hands ? You , that are thus so tender o'er his follies , Will never do him good , not one of ...
Page 45
... pray thee , good Camillo , be no more importunate : ' tis a sickness denying thee any thing ; a death to grant this . Cam . It is fifteen years since I saw my country : though I have for the most part been aired abroad , I desire to lay ...
... pray thee , good Camillo , be no more importunate : ' tis a sickness denying thee any thing ; a death to grant this . Cam . It is fifteen years since I saw my country : though I have for the most part been aired abroad , I desire to lay ...
Common terms and phrases
arms art thou Aumerle AUTOLYCUS Bard Bardolph Bast beseech BISHOP OF CARLISLE blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Camillo cousin crown Dauphin dead death doth Duke Duke of Hereford Eastcheap England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff Farewell father fear France French friends Gaunt gentle give grace grief hand Harfleur Harry Harry Percy hath hear heart heaven honour horse Host king Lady Leon liege live look lord majesty Master never night noble Northumberland pardon peace Percy Pist Poins pray Prince Prince of Wales queen Re-enter Rich SCENE Shal shalt shame Shep Sicilia Sir John Sir John Falstaff soldiers soul speak stand swear sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle unto Westmoreland wilt word York Zounds ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 472 - 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...
Page 135 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
Page 505 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves...
Page 330 - 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?
Page 387 - With deafening clamour 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.
Page 330 - 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
Page 465 - 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' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. "How now, Sir John!" quoth I; "what, man! be o
Page 169 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Page 216 - 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 at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be...