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Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.
— King John, Act III Scene 4
KEYWORD: his
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1 |
Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again:
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2 |
Up to the eastern tower,
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3 |
What was his cause of anger? |
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4 |
This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their
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5 |
That were we talking of, and of his anger. |
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6 |
Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another
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7 |
He shall not need it, if he have his own. |
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8 |
Nor his qualities. |
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9 |
Nor his beauty. |
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10 |
'Twould not become him; his own's better. |
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11 |
She praised his complexion above Paris. |
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12 |
Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised
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13 |
Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other
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14 |
Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
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15 |
Why, he is very young: and yet will he, within
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16 |
But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came
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17 |
Why, you know 'tis dimpled: I think his smiling
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18 |
I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled
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19 |
And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin. |
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20 |
They laughed not so much at the hair as at his pretty answer. |