All of Shakespeare’s plays.
On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
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.
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