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Achilles Afide againſt Agamemnon Ajax anſwer arms art thou Bard Bardolph blood Boling Bolingbroke brother Calchas Clot coufin Cymbeline death Diomed doft doth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair Falstaff father Faulc Faulconbridge fear feem fhall fhame fhew fhould fince fir John firſt flain foldiers fome foul fpeak fpirit ftand ftill fuch fweet fword Gaunt grief Guiderius hand hath hear heart heaven Hector Henry himſelf Hoft honour horſe Iach itſelf Juft king lady lord mafter majeſty moft moſt muft muſt myſelf noble Northumberland Pandarus Patroclus peace Percy Pifanio pleaſe Poft Pofthumus Poins prefent Priam prince purpoſe Queen reafon Rich ſay SCENE Shal ſhall ſhe ſpeak ſtand ſtate tell thee thefe Ther theſe thine thofe thoſe thou art thouſand tongue Troi Troilus Ulyff Weft whofe Whoſe York yourſelf
Page 317 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Page 622 - With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st 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.
Page 22 - Amidst the other : whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad : but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander.
Page 359 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Page 554 - 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 554 - 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 624 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased ; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.