The Second Part of King Henry the FourthSmart and Cowslade, 1801 - 96 pages |
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Page 38
... thousand of my pooreft fub- How jects Are at this hour afleep ! -O gentle fleep , Nature's foft nurfe , how have I frighted thee , That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down , And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness ? - Why rather ...
... thousand of my pooreft fub- How jects Are at this hour afleep ! -O gentle fleep , Nature's foft nurfe , how have I frighted thee , That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down , And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness ? - Why rather ...
Page 49
... thousands . Keep to that mea- fure , most forcible Feeble ! -Who is next ? Shal . Peter Bullcalf of the green . Fal . Yea , marry , let us fee Bullcalf . Enter BULLCALF . Bull . Here , Sir . Fal . Trust me , a likely fellow ! Come ...
... thousands . Keep to that mea- fure , most forcible Feeble ! -Who is next ? Shal . Peter Bullcalf of the green . Fal . Yea , marry , let us fee Bullcalf . Enter BULLCALF . Bull . Here , Sir . Fal . Trust me , a likely fellow ! Come ...
Page 68
... thousand fons , the first human principle I would teach them would be - to forfwear thin potations , and to addict themselves to fack , ( Exeunt , SCENE IV . The Palace at WESTMINSTER .. Enter KING HENRY , GLOCESTER , and CHIEF JUSTICE ...
... thousand fons , the first human principle I would teach them would be - to forfwear thin potations , and to addict themselves to fack , ( Exeunt , SCENE IV . The Palace at WESTMINSTER .. Enter KING HENRY , GLOCESTER , and CHIEF JUSTICE ...
Page 71
... thousand French , Landed on Cambria's fhores , had spread dismay And defolation in Caermarthen's plains . Vain was their hope of triumph , and short lived Their dream of conqueft . Tho ' loud faction roar , And difcontent with brooding ...
... thousand French , Landed on Cambria's fhores , had spread dismay And defolation in Caermarthen's plains . Vain was their hope of triumph , and short lived Their dream of conqueft . Tho ' loud faction roar , And difcontent with brooding ...
Page 76
... thousand daggers in thy thoughts , Which thou haft whetted on thy ftony heart , To ftab at half an hour of my frail life . What ! canft thou not forbear me half an hour ? Then get thee gone , and dig my grave thyself , And bid the merry ...
... thousand daggers in thy thoughts , Which thou haft whetted on thy ftony heart , To ftab at half an hour of my frail life . What ! canft thou not forbear me half an hour ? Then get thee gone , and dig my grave thyself , And bid the merry ...
Common terms and phrases
abuſe againſt an't pleaſe Archbishop of York Bardolph beseech Bullcalf caufe cauſe CHIEF JUSTICE Coufin Crown Davy defire doth drink Engliſh Enter FALSTAFF ev'n ev'ry excufe Exeunt Exit fack faid fame Fang father fear Feeble ferve fhall fleep foldiers fome fooliſh fpeak fpirit ftand fubject fuch fword give Grace Harry hath Heav'n himſelf honeft honor horſe Host itſelf John of Gaunt John of Lancaſter Juftice knave Lanc Let me fee Liege Lord Lord Mowbray Lordship Mafter Gower Mafter Shallow Majeſty moft MORTON moſt Mouldy Mowbray muſt myſelf night Northumberland peace Piftol Pist Poins pow'r prefent prick PRINCE JOHN Prince of Wales READING SCHOOL ſay SCENE ſee ſeen Shal ſhall ſhould Sir John Falſtaff Snare ſpeak ſtand ſtate ſtay thee theſe thou art thouſand thro uſe valor Wart West WESTMORELAND Whofe Whoſe wilt Worſhip York yourſelf
Popular passages
Page 21 - Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife.
Page 38 - O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Page 2 - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burn'd; But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.
Page 39 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes...
Page 40 - God ! that one might read the Book of Fate, And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea : and, other times, to see The beachy girdle of the ocean Too wide for Neptune's hips ; how chances mock, And changes fill the cup of alteration With divers liquors ! [0, if this were seen, The happiest youth, viewing .his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die...
Page 51 - I'll ne'er bear a base mind: — an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, so: No man's too good to serve his prince ; and, let it go which way it will, he that dies this year, is quit for the next.
Page 39 - That, with the hurly, death itfelf awakes ? Can'ft thou, O partial Sleep ! give thy repofe To the wet fea-boy in an hour fo rude ; And in the calmeft and the ftilleft night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? + then, happy low, lie down ! Uneafy lies the head that wears a crown.
Page 42 - By yea and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford still, is he not ? Sil. Indeed, sir, to my cost. Shal. A' must then to the inns o
Page 39 - 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 lowly clown ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Page 38 - A watch-cafe, or a common larum bell? Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy maft, Seal up the fhip-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude, imperious furge ; And in the vifitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monftrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamours on the flipp'ry fhrouds, That with the hurly death itfelf awakes?