Shakespeare's History of King Henry the Fifth

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American Book Company, 1904 - 260 Seiten
 

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Seite 69 - 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.
Seite 113 - 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.
Seite 58 - ... 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.
Seite 12 - If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work ; But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
Seite 107 - The farced title running fore the king, The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp That beats upon the high shore of this world — No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony, Not all these, laid in bed majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave...
Seite 26 - 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?
Seite 115 - 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 202 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Seite 114 - I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England : God's peace ! I would not lose so great an honour, As one man more, methinks, would share from me, For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more ! Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart...
Seite 12 - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Exit POINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds ' To smother up his beauty from the world...

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