The Works of William Shakespeare, 4 tomasMunroe, Francis & Parker, 1810 |
Turinys
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast blood Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Constable of France cousin crown Dauphin dead death dost doth duke duke of Hereford earl Eastcheap England English Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear France French friends Gaunt give grace grief hand Harfleur Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven honour horse Host K.Hen Kath King HENRY King John king Richard king's Lady land liege live look lord majesty master never night noble Northumberland peace Percy Pist Pistol Poins pray prince Prince JOHN prince of Wales Queen Rich SCENE Scroop Shakspeare Shal shame sir John sir John Falstaff soldiers soul speak STEEV sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle unto villain WARB Westmoreland word York
Populiarios ištraukos
46 psl. - And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings : How some have been depos'd, some slain in war...
39 psl. - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast, Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge. And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes...
13 psl. - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. {Exit POINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.
39 psl. - With deaf'ning 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.
2 psl. - 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...
45 psl. - 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.
2 psl. - O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention ! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars ; and, at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire, Crouch for employment.
51 psl. - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
60 psl. - 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. This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
24 psl. - This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it), Like to a tenement, or pelting farm: England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds: That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.