The Works of William Shakespeare: The Plays Edited from the Folio of MDCXXIII, with Various Readings from All the Editions and All the Commentators, Notes, Introductory Remarks, a Historical Sketch of the Text, an Account of the Rise and Progress of the English Drama, a Memoir of the Poet, and an Essay Upon the Genius, Band 7

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Seite 446 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Seite 81 - What's he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? — No, my fair cousin : If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss ; and if to live, The fewer men the greater share of honour.
Seite 82 - 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...
Seite 43 - Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Seite 18 - 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 ; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,...
Seite 183 - Let him that is a true-born gentleman And stands upon the honour of his birth, If he suppose that I have pleaded truth. From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. 30 Som. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
Seite 42 - 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, Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage.
Seite 43 - 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...
Seite 43 - England, shew 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. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ; Follow your spirit : and, upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry ! England ! and Saint George ! [Exeunt.
Seite 7 - On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object: can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France ? or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt...

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