Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions. Act iii. Sc. I. I am not in the roll of common men. Act iii. Sc. I. Glen. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Act iii. Sc. 1. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. Act iii. Sc. I. I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, Act iii. Sc. 1. But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Act iii. Sc. I. A good mouth-filling oath. Act iii. Sc. I. Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn? Act iii. Sc. 3. This sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprise. Act iv. Sc. 1. And witch the world with noble horsemanship. Act iv. Sc. I. The cankers of a calm world and a long peace. Act iv. Sc. 2. A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for, indeed, I had most of them out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves. Activ. Sc. 2. Food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better. Activ. Sc. 2. I would it were bedtime, Hal, and all well. Act v. Sc. 1. 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 that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it 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. Act v. Sc. I. Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. Act v. Sc. 4. I could have better spared a better man. Act v. Sc. 4. The better part of valour is discretion. Act v. Sc. 4. Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down, and out of breath; and so was he: but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. Purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly. Act v. Sc. 4. Act v. Sc. 4. KING HENRY IV. PART II. Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, And would have told him, half his Troy was burned. Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Acti. Sc. 1. Remembered knolling a departed friend. Acti. Sc. 1. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. Acti. Sc. 2. For my voice, I have lost it with hollaing, and singing of anthems. Acti. Sc. 2. I'll tickle your catastrophe. Act ii. Sc. 1. He hath eaten me out of house and home. Act ii. Sc. 1. He was, indeed, the glass Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. Act ii. Sc. 3. Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, With all appliances and means to boot. Act iii. Sc. 1. Act iii. Sc. I. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Act iii. Sc. 1. Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or, when a man is,-being,—whereby, -he may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing. Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble. Act iii. Sc. 2. Act iii. Sc. 2. We have heard the chimes at midnight. Act iii. Sc. 2. Like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring; when he was naked he was for all the world like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife. He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Act iii. Sc. 2. Activ. Sc. 4. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. Activ. Sc. 4. Act v. Sc. 3. Under which King? Bezonian, speak, or die. KING HENRY V. Consideration like an angel came, And whipped the offending Adam out of him. When he speaks, Acti. Sc. 1. The air, a chartered libertine, is still. Acti. Sc. 1. Base is the slave that pays. Act ii. Sc. I. A' babbled of green fields. Act . Sc. 3. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. Act iii. Sc. 1. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Act iii. Sc. I. You may as well say,--that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion. Act iii. Sc. 7. The hum of either army stilly sounds, The secret whispers of each other's watch : Each battle sees the other's umbered face: |