The Works of Mr. William Shakespear: In Six Volumes ; Adorn'd with CutsJacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate, next Grays-Inn Lane, 1709 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 48
Page 997
... North . K. Philip . Our Thunder from the South , Shall rain their Drift of Bullets on this Town . Baft . O prudent Difcipline ! From North to South ; Auftria and France shoot in each others Mouth , I'll ftir them to it ; come away ...
... North . K. Philip . Our Thunder from the South , Shall rain their Drift of Bullets on this Town . Baft . O prudent Difcipline ! From North to South ; Auftria and France shoot in each others Mouth , I'll ftir them to it ; come away ...
Page 1045
... North To make his bleak Winds kifs my parched Lips , And comfort me with cold . I do not ask you much , I beg cold Comfort ; and you are fo ftraight And fo ungrateful , you deny me that . Henry . Oh that there were fome Virtue in my ...
... North To make his bleak Winds kifs my parched Lips , And comfort me with cold . I do not ask you much , I beg cold Comfort ; and you are fo ftraight And fo ungrateful , you deny me that . Henry . Oh that there were fome Virtue in my ...
Page 1066
... North Eaft Wind , Which then grew bitterly againft our Face , Awak'd the fleepy Rheume , and fo by chance Did grace our hollow parting with a Tear . K. Rich . What faid our Coufin when you parted with him ? Anm . Farewel ; and for my ...
... North Eaft Wind , Which then grew bitterly againft our Face , Awak'd the fleepy Rheume , and fo by chance Did grace our hollow parting with a Tear . K. Rich . What faid our Coufin when you parted with him ? Anm . Farewel ; and for my ...
Page 1071
... North . My Liege , old Gaunt commends him to your Majesty . K. Rich . What fay's he ? North . Nay nothing , all is faid : His Tongue is now a ftringlefs Inftrument , Words , Life , and all , old Lancaster bath spent . Tork . Be York the ...
... North . My Liege , old Gaunt commends him to your Majesty . K. Rich . What fay's he ? North . Nay nothing , all is faid : His Tongue is now a ftringlefs Inftrument , Words , Life , and all , old Lancaster bath spent . Tork . Be York the ...
Page 1073
... North . Well , Lords , the Duke of Lancaster is dead . Rofs . And living too , for now his Son is Duke Willo . Barely in Title , not in Revenue . North . Richly in both , if Juftice had her Right . Rofs . My Heart is great ; but it muft ...
... North . Well , Lords , the Duke of Lancaster is dead . Rofs . And living too , for now his Son is Duke Willo . Barely in Title , not in Revenue . North . Richly in both , if Juftice had her Right . Rofs . My Heart is great ; but it muft ...
Other editions - View all
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts ... Nicholas Rowe No preview available - 2015 |
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear: In Six Volumes: Adorn'd with Cuts Nicholas Rowe,Michael Van Der Gucht No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
againſt anfwer Arms art thou bafe Baft Bard Bardolph Becauſe Blood Bulling Bullingbroke Cade Caufe Coufin Crown Dauphin dead Death doft doth Duke Duke of Burgundy Duke of York e'er England Enter King Exeunt Exit Eyes faid Father Faulconbridge fave fear felves feven fhall fhew fhould fight fince firft flain fome fpeak France ftand ftill fuch fweet Gaunt give Grace Hand hath hear Heart Heav'n himſelf Hoft Honour Horfe Jack Cade Juft King Henry Lady laft Liege Lord Lord of Westmorland Love lyes Mafter Majefty moft muft muſt never Night noble Northumberland Peace Percy Pift pleaſe Poins prefent Prifoner Prince Pucel Queen reft Reignier Salisbury Shal ſhall Sir John Soldiers Somerset Soul ſpeak Suffolk Sword Talbot tell thee thefe theſe thine thofe thou art thouſand Tongue Tork Treafon unto Warwick Weft whofe wilt York
Popular passages
Page 1245 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased : The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life ; which in their seeds, And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
Page 1349 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse. We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Page 1193 - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o
Page 1364 - Like to the senators of the antique Rome, With the plebeians swarming at their heels, Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in : As, by a lower but loving likelihood, Were now the general of our gracious empress, As in good time he may, from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit, To welcome him I much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry.
Page 1511 - Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass: and when I am king, as king I will be,— ALL God save your majesty! CADE I thank you, good people: there shall be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree like brothers and worship me their lord.
Page 1243 - With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds, 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 low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Page 1089 - All murder'd: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
Page 1303 - 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...
Page 1069 - Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son ; This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leas'd out, I die pronouncing it, Like to a tenement or pelting farm...