History of King Henry the Fourth, Part 2

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American book Company, 1908
 

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Page 57 - Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife.
Page 24 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — Sleep, gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Page 117 - Too near unto my state : — therefore, my Harry, Be it thy course to busy giddy minds With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out, May waste the memory of the former days.
Page 80 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd ; The which observ'd, 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 in treasured. Such things become the hatch and brood of time ; And, by the necessary form of this, King Richard might create a perfect guess.
Page 43 - Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me : the brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter, more than I invent or is invented on me : I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
Page 25 - O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness / Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great...
Page 25 - Methought I heard a voice cry " Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep" — the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M.
Page 49 - I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse : borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable...
Page 38 - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night...
Page 88 - I'll ne'er bear a base mind: — an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, so: No man's too good to serve his prince ; and, let it go which way it will, he that dies this year, is quit for the next.

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