The Plays of William Shakespeare, 4. köide

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T. Bensley, 1803

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Page 86 - 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: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here; And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's...
Page 85 - 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. 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 13 - Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts : 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 : Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold ; The civil citizens kneading up...
Page 1 - 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 > O, pardon ! since a crooked figure may Attest, in little place, a million; And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, On your imaginary forces work...
Page 52 - If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked ! if to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is damned : if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord ; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins : but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's company : banish...
Page 41 - O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit To his full height!
Page 42 - That those, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you! 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. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit: and, upon this charge,...
Page 98 - Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me ? Well, '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 85 - 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.
Page 83 - I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus' And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

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