Specimens of English Dramatic Poets: Who Lived about the Time of Shakespeare, Том 1J. Bumpus, 1813 - 484 страници |
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Страница 1
... mother in his bed . GORBODUC , AROSTUS , EUBULUS , and others . Gorb . What cruel destiny , What froward fate hath sorted us this chance ? That even in those where we should comfort find , Where our delight now in our aged days Should ...
... mother in his bed . GORBODUC , AROSTUS , EUBULUS , and others . Gorb . What cruel destiny , What froward fate hath sorted us this chance ? That even in those where we should comfort find , Where our delight now in our aged days Should ...
Страница 2
... mother's breast , With her own hand to slay her only son ? But out ( alas ) these eyes beheld the same , They saw the dreary sight , and are become Most ruthful records of the bloody fact . Porrex , alas , is by his mother slain , And ...
... mother's breast , With her own hand to slay her only son ? But out ( alas ) these eyes beheld the same , They saw the dreary sight , and are become Most ruthful records of the bloody fact . Porrex , alas , is by his mother slain , And ...
Страница 3
... mother , and to cry to her for aid , Whose direful hand gave him the mortal wound , Pitying alas ( for nought else could we do ) . His rueful end , ran to the woful bed , Despoiled streight his breast , and all we might Wiped in vain ...
... mother , and to cry to her for aid , Whose direful hand gave him the mortal wound , Pitying alas ( for nought else could we do ) . His rueful end , ran to the woful bed , Despoiled streight his breast , and all we might Wiped in vain ...
Страница 4
... mother , thou to murder thus thy child ! Even Jove with justice must with light'ning flames From heaven send down some strange revenge on thee . Ah noble prince , how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed ...
... mother , thou to murder thus thy child ! Even Jove with justice must with light'ning flames From heaven send down some strange revenge on thee . Ah noble prince , how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed ...
Страница 5
... mother kill her only son . Blood asketh blood , and death must death requit : Jove by his just and everlasting doom Justly hath ever so requited it . This times before record and times to come Shall find it true , and so doth present ...
... mother kill her only son . Blood asketh blood , and death must death requit : Jove by his just and everlasting doom Justly hath ever so requited it . This times before record and times to come Shall find it true , and so doth present ...
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Alaham blessing blood Bonduca breath brother Cæsar Calica call'd Camena Carracus Clor Corb curse dare dead dear death dost doth Duch Duke earth eyes fair father Faustus fear fortune Fran FRANCIS BEAUMONT give grief hand happy hate hath hear heart heaven hell honour hope Jacin JAMES SHIRLEY JOHN FLETCHER JOHN FORD JOHN MARSTON King kiss kneel lady live look lord lov'd Madam methinks Mont Moth mother ne'er Nennius never night noble Ovid pardon passion PHILIP MASSINGER pity poor pray prison Queen revenge Shakspeare shame shew sister sorrow soul speak spirit sweet sword Tamburlaine tears tell thee there's thine thing THOMAS HEYWOOD THOMAS MIDDLETON thou art thou hast thoughts thyself TRAGEDY twas unto Violanta virtue weep what's whilst wife WILLIAM ROWLEY Witch woman
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Страница 38 - 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 be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
Страница 212 - O that it were possible we might But hold some two days conference with the dead, From them I should learn somewhat I am sure I never shall know here. I'll tell thee a miracle ; I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow. Th...
Страница 31 - 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 40 - Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone : regard his hellish fall, Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise Only to wonder at unlawful things, Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits To practise more than heavenly power permits.
Страница 28 - Something still buzzeth in mine ears, And tells me, if I sleep I never wake ; This fear is that which makes me tremble thus. And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come? Light. To rid thee of thy life ; Matrevis, come. Enter Matrevis and Gurney. Edw. I am too weak and feeble to resist : Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul.
Страница 375 - I sit by and sing, Or gather rushes, to make many a ring For thy long fingers; tell thee tales of love) How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove, First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes She took eternal fire that never dies; How she...
Страница 95 - Give me a spirit that on life's rough sea Loves to have his sails fill'd with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his rapt ship run on her side so low, That she drinks water, and her keel ploughs air. There is no danger to a man, that knows What life and death is : there's not any law Exceeds his knowledge ; neither is it lawful That he should stoop to any other law : He goes before them, and commands them all, That to himself is a law rational.
Страница 18 - Thirsting with sovereignty and love of arms; His lofty brows in folds do figure death, And in their smoothness amity and life; About them hangs a knot of amber hair, Wrapped in curls, as fierce Achilles' was, On which the breath of Heaven delights to play, Making it dance with wanton majesty.
Страница 371 - Here be grapes, whose lusty blood Is the learned poet's good, Sweeter yet did never crown The head of Bacchus ; nuts more brown Than the squirrel's teeth that crack them...
Страница 20 - I'll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows ; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.