All of Shakespeare’s plays. More…
On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
Farewell, hostess.
Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: that's all the riches I got in his service.
And of women.
Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell!
Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. Prithee, put up.
By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll kill him; by this sword, I will.
Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together: why the devil should we keep knives to cut one another's throats?
Away, you rogue!
Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.
Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.
Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol!
It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you were troth-plight to her.
I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it be so, good Corporal Nym.
What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
Well met, Corporal Nym.