The Works of Shakespeare, 6±ÇMacmillan, 1899 |
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22 ÆäÀÌÁö
... hour , by night or day , When I was got , sir Robert was away ! Eli . The very spirit of Plantagenet ! I am thy grandam , Richard ; call me so . Bast . Madam , by chance but not by truth ; what though ? Something about , a little from ...
... hour , by night or day , When I was got , sir Robert was away ! Eli . The very spirit of Plantagenet ! I am thy grandam , Richard ; call me so . Bast . Madam , by chance but not by truth ; what though ? Something about , a little from ...
54 ÆäÀÌÁö
... hours of this ungodly day Wear out the day in peace ; but , ere sunsét , Set armed discord ' twixt these perjured kings ! Hear me , O , hear me ! Aust . Lady Constance , peace ! Const . War ! war ! no peace ! peace is to me a war . O ...
... hours of this ungodly day Wear out the day in peace ; but , ere sunsét , Set armed discord ' twixt these perjured kings ! Hear me , O , hear me ! Aust . Lady Constance , peace ! Const . War ! war ! no peace ! peace is to me a war . O ...
62 ÆäÀÌÁö
... hour within this hour . Bast . Old Time the clock - setter , that bald sexton Time , Is it as he will ? well then , France shall rue . Blanch . The sun's o'ercast with blood : fair day , adieu ! Which is the side that I must go withal ...
... hour within this hour . Bast . Old Time the clock - setter , that bald sexton Time , Is it as he will ? well then , France shall rue . Blanch . The sun's o'ercast with blood : fair day , adieu ! Which is the side that I must go withal ...
72 ÆäÀÌÁö
... hour , One minute , nay , one quiet breath of rest . A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd ; And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up : That John ...
... hour , One minute , nay , one quiet breath of rest . A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd ; And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up : That John ...
75 ÆäÀÌÁö
... a princess wrought it me , And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head , 19. doubt , fear . 34. dispiteous , pitiless . And like the watchful minutes to the hour , Still 75 SC . I King John.
... a princess wrought it me , And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head , 19. doubt , fear . 34. dispiteous , pitiless . And like the watchful minutes to the hour , Still 75 SC . I King John.
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arms art thou Arthur Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast blood Boling Bolingbroke breath brother cousin crown dead death dost doth Duch Duke Earl Eastcheap England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff farewell father Faulconbridge fear France friends Gaunt give Glendower grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven Henry Henry IV Holinshed honour horse Host Hotspur Hubert John of Gaunt King John King Richard Lady Lancaster land liege live look lord majesty Master Mortimer Mowbray never night noble Northumberland Pandulph pardon peace Percy Pist play Poins pray Prince Prince of Wales Queen Rich Richard II SCENE Shakespeare Shal shame Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir John Oldcastle soul speak stand sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle Vols Westmoreland word York Zounds
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116 ÆäÀÌÁö - Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. — This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
444 ÆäÀÌÁö - Too wide for Neptune's hips ; how chances mock, And changes fill the cup of alteration With divers liquors ! O, 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.
70 ÆäÀÌÁö - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
195 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable; and humour'd thus Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and — farewell king!
163 ÆäÀÌÁö - England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.