« ZurückWeiter »
Now Falstaff sweats to death, And lards the lean earth as he walks along : Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.
My business in this state,
Made me a looker-on here in Vienna,
Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble,
Till it o'errun the stew.
It is held, That valour is the chiefest virtue, and Most dignifies the haver: if it be, The man I speak of cannot in the world. Be singly counterpois’d. By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake, endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occasion. He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe ; and make his
His outsides; to wear them like his raiment, carelessly;
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear.
. Pr’ythee, peace :
I dare do all that may become a man ;
Who dares do more, is none.
But screw your courage to the sticking place,
And we'll not fail.
His valour, shown upon our crests to-day,
Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds,
Even in the bosom of our adversaries.
I rather tell thee what is to be feared,
Than what I fear; for always I am Cæsar.
Think not, thou noble Roman,
That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome ;
He bears too great a mind.
I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The gods defend him from so great a share !
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself,
Methinks, I see him stamp thus, and call thus ---
Come on, you cowards, you were got in fear,
Though you were born in Rome.
A thousand hearts are great within my bosom :
Advance our standards, set upon our foes ;
Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons !
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms..
King Richard. A horse! a horse ! my kingdom for
a horse !
Catesby. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse.
King Richard. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die.
You must not think,
That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,
That we can let our beard be shook with danger,
And think it pastime.
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on;
And doves will peck, in safeguard of their bruod.
Come all to ruin ; Let thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear Thy dangerous stoutness; for I mock at death, With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list. Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me; But owe thy pride thyself. What though the mast be now blown over-board, The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood ? Yet lives our pilot still: Is't meet, that he Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad, With tearful eyes add water to the sea, And give more strength to that which hath too much Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock, Which industry and courage might have sav'd ? Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
In despite of all mischance,
Of thee, thyself, and all thy complices,
Edward will always bear himself a king :
Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
Let us die instant : once more back again ;
The man that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand,
Like a base pander hold the chamber door,
Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminate.
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer nis,
And not these bastard Bretagnes ? whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And, on record, left them the heirs of shame.
He stopp'd the Aiers ;
And, by his rare example, made the coward
Turn terror into sport : as waves before
A vessel under sail, so men obey'd,
And fell below his stem.
They call'd us for our fierceness, English dogs ;
Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.
Hark, countrymen either renew the fight,
Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions stead.
Fight, gentlemen of England ; fight, bold yeomen :
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head.
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood :
Ainaze the welkin with your broken staves.
False hound !
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, ...
That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
Flutter'd your Volces in Corioli:
Alone I did it.
Our courtiers say, all's savage, but at court :
Experience, O, thou disprov'st report. .,
Revolve what tales I have told you, Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war : :!!! This service is not service, so being done, , , , But being so allow'da..
It is the curse of kings, to be attended 1.
By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life:
And, on the winking of authority, i
To understand a law; to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns
More upon humour than advis'd respect.
Not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.
The caterpillars of the common-wealth,
Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away.
I hardly yet have learn'd
T'insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.
To dog his heels, and curt'sy at his frowns,
To show how much thou art degenerate.
Poor wretches, that depend
On greatness' favor, dream as I have done;
Wake and find nothing.
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O, ho ! 'tis foul.
And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
Where honey-suckles, ripen’d by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter; like favorites,
Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
Against that power that bred it.
Live loath'd, and long,
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time's flies,
Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute jacks. "
Others there are, Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves; . And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well thrive by them, and when they have lin'd
their coats, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul ; And such a one do I profess myself.