Speeches (Lines) for King Phillip
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# | Act, Scene, Line (Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent
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2 |
A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish,
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3 |
How much unlook'd for is this expedition! |
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4 |
Peace be to England, if that war return
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5 |
From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts
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6 |
Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. |
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7 |
Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. |
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8 |
Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate:
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9 |
'Tis France, for England. |
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10 |
You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
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11 |
When I have said, make answer to us both.
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12 |
As many and as well-born bloods as those,— |
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13 |
Stand in his face to contradict his claim. |
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14 |
Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms! |
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15 |
It shall be so; and at the other hill
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16 |
England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood,
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17 |
Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king? |
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18 |
Know him in us, that here hold up his right. |
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19 |
Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? |
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20 |
Our thunder from the south
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21 |
Speak England first, that hath been forward first
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22 |
What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. |
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23 |
It likes us well; young princes, close your hands. |
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24 |
Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
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25 |
And, by my faith, this league that we have made
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26 |
'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day
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27 |
By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
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28 |
Here comes the holy legate of the pope. |
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29 |
Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. |
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30 |
I am perplex'd, and know not what to say. |
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31 |
Good reverend father, make my person yours,
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32 |
I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. |
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33 |
Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee. |
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34 |
Thy rage sham burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
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35 |
So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
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36 |
What can go well, when we have run so ill?
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37 |
Well could I bear that England had this praise,
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38 |
Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance! |
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39 |
O fair affliction, peace! |
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40 |
Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
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41 |
Bind up your hairs. |
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42 |
You are as fond of grief as of your child. |
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43 |
I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. |