King Henry the fifth, ed. by C.E. Moberly |
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Page 9
... poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate , The sad - eyed justice , with his surly hum , Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone . I this infer , That many things , having full reference ...
... poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate , The sad - eyed justice , with his surly hum , Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone . I this infer , That many things , having full reference ...
Page 11
... poor seat of England ; And therefore , living hence , did give ourself To barbarous license ; as ' tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home . But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state , Be like a king and show my ...
... poor seat of England ; And therefore , living hence , did give ourself To barbarous license ; as ' tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home . But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state , Be like a king and show my ...
Page 16
... poor heart ! he is so shaked of a burn- ing quotidian tertian , that it is most lamentable to behold . Sweet men , come to him . NYM . The king hath run bad humours on the knight ; that's the even of it . PIST . Nym , thou hast spoke ...
... poor heart ! he is so shaked of a burn- ing quotidian tertian , that it is most lamentable to behold . Sweet men , come to him . NYM . The king hath run bad humours on the knight ; that's the even of it . PIST . Nym , thou hast spoke ...
Page 17
... poor wretch ! If little faults , proceeding on distemper , Shall not be wink'd at , how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes , chew'd , swallow'd and digested , Appear before us ? We'll yet enlarge that man , 40 50 Though ...
... poor wretch ! If little faults , proceeding on distemper , Shall not be wink'd at , how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes , chew'd , swallow'd and digested , Appear before us ? We'll yet enlarge that man , 40 50 Though ...
Page 20
... Poor miserable wretches , to your death : The taste whereof , God of his mercy give You patience to endure , and true repentance Of all your dear offences ! Bear them hence . 180 [ Exeunt CAMBridge , Scroop , and GREY , guarded . Now ...
... Poor miserable wretches , to your death : The taste whereof , God of his mercy give You patience to endure , and true repentance Of all your dear offences ! Bear them hence . 180 [ Exeunt CAMBridge , Scroop , and GREY , guarded . Now ...
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Common terms and phrases
Agincourt ALICE Assistant-Master Aunchient BARD Bardolph battle Bedford behold blood brother CANT Captain Charles CHARLES D'ALBRET COLN ROGERS constable Constable of France cousin Crown 8vo Dauphin death doth Duke of Burgundy dukedoms Earl of Cambridge Edited England English Enter KING HENRY Exeter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father Fluellen follows foul France French give GLOUCESTER glove Gower grace Harfleur Harry hath hear heart Henry IV Henry VI Henry's herald honour horse host humour Kate KATH Katharine King Lear king's knight leek liege live look Lord Macmorris majesty meaning mercy mock Montjoy never noble Orleans PIST Pistol play pray princes ransom reading Richard II Rugby Rugby School Salique SCENE SCROOP Shakspere Shakspere's Small 8vo soldier soul speak Steevens sword tell thee thou thought traitor treason unto Westmoreland word ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 28 - 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.
Page 96 - Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty; Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And sets a blister there; makes marriage -vows As false as dicers...
Page 55 - God's will ! I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold ; Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear ; Such outward things dwell not in my desires : But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive.
Page 1 - 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...
Page 56 - 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 accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Page 55 - Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd. 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 ; 60 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...
Page 27 - 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 9 - I this infer: That many things, having full reference To one consent, may work contrariously, As many arrows loosed several ways Come to one mark, as many ways meet in one town, As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea, As many lines close in the dial's center, So may a thousand actions, once afoot, End in one purpose, and be all well borne Without defeat.
Page 9 - 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...
Page 32 - If I begin the battery once again, I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur, Till in her ashes she lie buried. The gates of mercy shall be all shut up ; ' And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, In liberty of bloody hand shall range With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass Your fresh fair virgins, and your flowering infants.