The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, with notes original and selected by S.W. Singer, and a life of the poet by C. Symmons, Volume 6 |
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Page 11
3 Mess . My gracious lords , to add to your laments , Wherewith you now bedew
King Henry ' s hearse , I must inform you of a dismal fight , Betwixt the stout Lord
Talbot and the French . Win . What ! wherein Talbot overcame ? is ' t so ? 3 Mess .
3 Mess . My gracious lords , to add to your laments , Wherewith you now bedew
King Henry ' s hearse , I must inform you of a dismal fight , Betwixt the stout Lord
Talbot and the French . Win . What ! wherein Talbot overcame ? is ' t so ? 3 Mess .
Page 83
To fight I will , but not to fly the foe . Tal . Part of thy father may be sav ' d in thee .
John . No part of him , but will be shame in me . Tal . Thou never hadst renown ,
nor canst not lose it . John . Yes , your renowned name ; Shall flight abuse it ?
To fight I will , but not to fly the foe . Tal . Part of thy father may be sav ' d in thee .
John . No part of him , but will be shame in me . Tal . Thou never hadst renown ,
nor canst not lose it . John . Yes , your renowned name ; Shall flight abuse it ?
Page 138
Alas , my lord , I cannot fight ; * for God ' s * sake , pity my case ! the spite of man
prevaileth * against me . 0 , Lord have mercy upon me ! I * shall never be able to
fight a blow : 0 Lord , my * heart ! Glo . Sirrah , or you must fight , or else be hang
...
Alas , my lord , I cannot fight ; * for God ' s * sake , pity my case ! the spite of man
prevaileth * against me . 0 , Lord have mercy upon me ! I * shall never be able to
fight a blow : 0 Lord , my * heart ! Glo . Sirrah , or you must fight , or else be hang
...
Page 278
Why , that ' s my fortune too ; therefore I ' ll stay . North . Be it with resolution then
to fight . Prince . My royal father , cheer these noble lords , And hearten those that
fight in your defence : Unsheath your sword , good father ; cry , Saint George !
Why , that ' s my fortune too ; therefore I ' ll stay . North . Be it with resolution then
to fight . Prince . My royal father , cheer these noble lords , And hearten those that
fight in your defence : Unsheath your sword , good father ; cry , Saint George !
Page 348
William Shakespeare Samuel Weller Singer. • 0 , brave young prince ! thy famous
grandfather Doth live again in thee ; Long may ' st thou live , To bear his image ,
and renew his glories ! Som . And he , that will not fight for such a hope , • Go ...
William Shakespeare Samuel Weller Singer. • 0 , brave young prince ! thy famous
grandfather Doth live again in thee ; Long may ' st thou live , To bear his image ,
and renew his glories ! Som . And he , that will not fight for such a hope , • Go ...
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Common terms and phrases
arms battle bear blood body brother Cade Clarence Clif Clifford crown dead death doth duke earl Edward enemies England English Enter Exeunt eyes father fear fight foes follow Forces France French friends give Gloster grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hence Henry's highness Holinshed honour hope I'll John keep King Henry Lady leave live London look lord lost March Margaret master means mind never night noble old play once passage peace play present prince queen rest Rich Richard Salisbury SCENE Shakspeare soldiers Somerset soul sovereign speak stand stay Suffolk sweet sword Talbot tears tell thee thine thing thou thou art thought true unto Warwick York
Popular passages
Page 203 - DICK The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers. CADE Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings: but I say, 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.
Page 286 - So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest ; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself ; So many days my ewes have been with young ; So many weeks ere the poor fools will...
Page 287 - Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet ! how lovely ! Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings, that fear their subjects
Page 86 - 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 18 - Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.