Specimens of English dramatic poetsJ.M. Dent & Company, 1903 |
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Страница xxxv
... hour of need . One friend of his who was very apt to be in need , as a man will be who sees the odds of the world ... hours , ten to four , the same . It does me good . Man must have regular occupation , that has been used to it . " This ...
... hour of need . One friend of his who was very apt to be in need , as a man will be who sees the odds of the world ... hours , ten to four , the same . It does me good . Man must have regular occupation , that has been used to it . " This ...
Страница 6
... hour Have kind and fortune thus deferred my breath , That I should live to see this doleful day ? Will ever wight believe that such hard heart Could rest within the cruel mother's breast , With her own hand to slay her only son ? But ...
... hour Have kind and fortune thus deferred my breath , That I should live to see this doleful day ? Will ever wight believe that such hard heart Could rest within the cruel mother's breast , With her own hand to slay her only son ? But ...
Страница 10
... hour , The fatal hour I have so looked for ; Now hath my father satisfied his thirst With guiltless blood , which he so coveted . What brings this cup ? ay me ! I thought no less ; It is mine earl's , my county's pierced heart . Dear ...
... hour , The fatal hour I have so looked for ; Now hath my father satisfied his thirst With guiltless blood , which he so coveted . What brings this cup ? ay me ! I thought no less ; It is mine earl's , my county's pierced heart . Dear ...
Страница 50
... hour to live , And then thou must be damn'd perpetually ! Stand still , you ever - moving spheres of heaven , That time may cease , and midnight never come ; Fair Nature's eye , rise , rise again , and make Perpetual day ; or let this hour ...
... hour to live , And then thou must be damn'd perpetually ! Stand still , you ever - moving spheres of heaven , That time may cease , and midnight never come ; Fair Nature's eye , rise , rise again , and make Perpetual day ; or let this hour ...
Страница 51
... hour is past ! ' twill all be past anon . O , if my soul must suffer for my sin , Impose some end to my incessant pain ; Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years , A hundred thousand , and at last be sav❜d ! No end is limited to ...
... hour is past ! ' twill all be past anon . O , if my soul must suffer for my sin , Impose some end to my incessant pain ; Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years , A hundred thousand , and at last be sav❜d ! No end is limited to ...
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Alaham art thou AUTHOR Beaumont and Fletcher beauty behold Ben Jonson blessing blood breath Cæsar Calica Camena Capt Charles Lamb COMEDY Corb Corv court crown D'Ambois dead dear death dost doth Duke earth eyes fair faith father Faustus fear fire fortune gentleman give grief hand hath hear heart heaven Hecate hell HENRY CHETTLE honour Jacin king kiss Lady Lamb Lamb's live look lord madam Massinger methinks Mont mother murder Mustapha ne'er never night noble Ovid pardon passion Phao pity play pleasure poets poor pray prince prithee Queen revenge rich Samuel Daniel Sapho scorn Shakspeare sleep Solym sorrow soul speak spirit sweet Tamburlaine tears tell thee there's thine things THOMAS HEYWOOD THOMAS MIDDLETON thou art thou hast thoughts thyself TRAGEDY unto virtue weep wife WILLIAM ROWLEY witch words
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Страница 302 - Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray, Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may! Titty, Tiffin, Keep it stiff in; Firedrake, Puckey, Make it lucky; Liard, Robin, You must bob in. Round, around, around, about, about! All ill come running in, all good keep out!
Страница 64 - I see my tragedy written in thy brows. Yet stay a while, forbear thy bloody hand, And let me see the stroke before it comes, That even then when I shall lose my life, My mind may be more steadfast on my God. Light. What means your highness to mistrust me thus ! Edw.
Страница 46 - I'll have them read me strange philosophy And tell the secrets of all foreign kings; I'll have them wall all Germany with brass, And make swift Rhine circle fair Wittenberg, I'll have them fill the public schools...
Страница 56 - Barabas is a mere monster brought in with a large painted nose to please the rabble. He kills in sport, poisons whole nunneries, invents infernal machines. He is just such an exhibition as a century or two earlier might have been played before the Londoners " by the royal command," when a general pillage and massacre of the Hebrews had been previously resolved on in the cabinet.
Страница 159 - For I do mean To have a list of wives and concubines Equal with Solomon, who had the stone Alike with me ; and I will make me a back With the elixir that shall be as tough As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.
Страница 45 - If we say that we have' no sin we deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us." Why, then, belike we must sin, and so consequently die. Ay, we must die an everlasting death. What doctrine call you this, Che ser& sera, "What will be, shall be?
Страница 69 - My love is fair, my love is gay, As fresh as bin the flowers in May, And of my love my roundelay, My merry, merry, merry roundelay Concludes with Cupid's curse: They that do change old love for new, Pray Gods they change for worse.
Страница 303 - Shakspeare have neither child of their own, nor seem to be descended from any parent. They are foul anomalies, of whom we know not whence they are sprung, nor whether they have beginning or ending. As they are without human passions, so they seem to be without human relations. They come with thunder and lightning, and vanish to airy music. This is all we know of them. Except Hecate, they have no names ; which heightens their mysteriousness.
Страница 155 - I'll change All that is metal, in my house, to gold: And, early in the morning, will I send To all the plumbers and the pewterers, And buy their tin and lead up ; and to Lothbury For all the copper.
Страница 151 - s there ? CORVINO, a Merchant, enters. Mos. Signior Corvino ! come most wish'd for ! O, How happy were you, if you knew it, now ! Corv. Why ? what ? wherein ? Mos. The tardy hour is come, sir. Corv. He is not dead ? Mos. Not dead, sir, but as good ; He knows no man. Corv. How shall I do then ? Mos. Why, sir ? Corv.