Tales from Shakespeare ...: Continuation by H.S. Morris : Love's labour's lost. The merry wives of Windsor. Troilus and Cressida. King John. King Richard II. King Henry IV. pt. 1-2. King Henry V

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Lippincott, 1893
 

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Page 153 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the shipboy'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...
Page 28 - When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail. And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail ; When blood is nipped, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, To-who ; Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Page 170 - Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace ; Leave gormandizing ; know the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men...
Page 176 - A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child ; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide : for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Page 153 - 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.
Page 103 - To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable...
Page 29 - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Page 133 - Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Page 85 - To be more prince) as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. Arth. Mercy on me! Methinks, nobody should be sad but I : Yet, I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Only for wantonness. By my Christendom, So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long...
Page 164 - God knows, my son, By what by-paths and indirect crooked ways I met this crown ; and I myself know well How troublesome it sat upon my head.

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