The Works of William Shakespeare, Volume 3E. Moxon, 1857 |
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Página 488
... Pist . God save you , Sir John ! Fal . Welcome , Ancient Pistol . Here , Pistol , I charge you with a cup of sack : do you discharge upon mine hostess . Pist . I will discharge upon her , Sir John , with two bullets . Fal . She is ...
... Pist . God save you , Sir John ! Fal . Welcome , Ancient Pistol . Here , Pistol , I charge you with a cup of sack : do you discharge upon mine hostess . Pist . I will discharge upon her , Sir John , with two bullets . Fal . She is ...
Página 489
William Shakespeare. Fal . Hark thee hither , Mistress Doll . Pist . Not I : I tell thee what , Corporal Bardolph , - I could tear her : -I'll be revenged on her . Page . Pray thee , go down . Pist . I'll see her damned first ; -to ...
William Shakespeare. Fal . Hark thee hither , Mistress Doll . Pist . Not I : I tell thee what , Corporal Bardolph , - I could tear her : -I'll be revenged on her . Page . Pray thee , go down . Pist . I'll see her damned first ; -to ...
Página 490
... Pist . What ! shall we have incision ? shall we imbrue ? - [ Snatching up his sword . Then death rock me asleep , abridge my doleful days ! Why , then , let grievous , ghastly , gaping wounds Untwine the Sisters Three ! Come , Atropos ...
... Pist . What ! shall we have incision ? shall we imbrue ? - [ Snatching up his sword . Then death rock me asleep , abridge my doleful days ! Why , then , let grievous , ghastly , gaping wounds Untwine the Sisters Three ! Come , Atropos ...
Página 539
... Pist . Sir John , God save you ! Fal . What wind blew you hither , Pistol ? Pist . Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.- Sweet knight , thou art now one of the greatest men in the realm . Sil . By'r lady , I think he be , but ...
... Pist . Sir John , God save you ! Fal . What wind blew you hither , Pistol ? Pist . Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.- Sweet knight , thou art now one of the greatest men in the realm . Sil . By'r lady , I think he be , but ...
Página 540
... Pist . A foutra for the world and worldlings base ! I speak of Africa and golden joys . Fal . O base Assyrian knight , what is thy news ? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof . Sil . And Robin Hood , Scarlet , and John . Pist ...
... Pist . A foutra for the world and worldlings base ! I speak of Africa and golden joys . Fal . O base Assyrian knight , what is thy news ? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof . Sil . And Robin Hood , Scarlet , and John . Pist ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
The Works of William Shakespeare: King Richard III ; King John ; Merchant of ... William Shakespeare Visualização integral - 1888 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
4tos art thou Bard Bardolph Bast blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke brother Camillo Collier's Corrector cousin crown Dauphin dead death dost doth Duke Duke of Hereford Eastcheap England Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff father fear folio fool France friends Gaunt gentle gentleman give grace grief hand Harfleur Harry Harry Percy hath hear heart heaven HENRY honour horse Host Illyria knight lady Leon Lettsom liege live look lord madam majesty Malvolio Master never noble Northumberland old copies peace Percy Pist Pistol Poin Pointz pray prince Prince of Wales prithee queen Re-enter reading Rich SCENE Shakespeare Shal shame Shep Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby soul speak stand swear sweet sword Sydney Walker tell thee thine thou art thou hast thought tongue true unto wilt word
Passagens conhecidas
Página 28 - O, fellow, come, the song we had last night. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain; The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love. Like the old age.: CLO.
Página 435 - 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
Página 557 - Whose high upreared and abutting fronts The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder. Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts ; Into a thousand parts divide one man, And make imaginary puissance : Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i...
Página 496 - With deafning 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.
Página 28 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there ! Duke.
Página 3 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.