What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Anon arms art thou Bard Bardolph battle battle of Shrewsbury bear blood Bolingbroke Cf.n cousin coward cup of sack death devil dost thou doth Doug Douglas Earl of Fife Earl of March Eastcheap Enter Falstaff Exeunt Exit faith Farewell father fear fight Fran Francis Gads Gadshill give Glend grace hanged Harry Percy hast thou hath hear honour horse Host Hostess humour Jack John of Lancaster Kate king's Lady Lord John Mordake Mort never night noble Oldcastle Owen Glendower Peto plague play Poins Prince of Wales prisoners prithee rascal Richard rogue sayest Scene Scot Shakespeare's Shrewsbury Sir Herbert Tree Sir John Sir John Oldcastle Sir Walter Blunt Sirrah speak sweet sword tell thee there's thou art thou hast to-morrow uncle valiant villain Welsh Westmoreland Worcester word Zounds
Page 98 - 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 6 - Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be — Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon : And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we — steal, P.
Page 139 - Should I turn upon the true prince ? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter ; I was a coward on instinct.
Page 98 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so ends my catechism.
Page 57 - I cannot blame him : at my nativity The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets ; and at my birth The frame and huge foundation of the earth Shaked like a coward.
Page 12 - So, when this loose behaviour I throw off, And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes ; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
Page 58 - Why, so can I ; or so can any man : But will they come, when you do call for them ? Glend.
Page 19 - Imagination of some great exploit drives him beyond the bounds of patience. Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, to pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, or dive into the bottom of the deep, where fathom-line could never touch the ground and pluck up drowned...
Page 15 - To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman Of guns, and drums, and wounds, — God save the mark! — And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise...