The Life of Sir John Falstaff

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Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, and Roberts, 1858 - 196 pāgines
"The plan of this work [is] ... to illustrate the life of Sir John Falstaff exclusively from the most striking passages in his career, as invented by Shakespeare"--Preface

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Pāgina 79 - I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feather'd 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.
Pāgina vii - 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.
Pāgina 93 - 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 'U none of it : honour is a mere scutcheon : — and so ends my catechism.
Pāgina 89 - twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit ? I lie, I am no counterfeit. To die is to be a counterfeit ; for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man : but to counterfeit dying, when, a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed.
Pāgina 68 - I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the heir-apparent ? should I turn upon the true prince? why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince.
Pāgina 93 - 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
Pāgina 68 - I have peppered two of them : two, I am sure, I have paid ; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, — if 1 tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward; — here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, P.
Pāgina 93 - tis no matter ; Honour pricks me on. Tea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No.
Pāgina 68 - Go thy .ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old...
Pāgina 98 - Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age ? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly ? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity ? and will you vet call yourself young?

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