British theatre, comprising tragedies, comedies, operas, and farces; with biogr., critical account and notes, by an Englishman [O. Williams]. By O. Williams1831 |
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... poor epitome of Roman greatness , And , cover'd with Numidian guards , directs A feeble army , and an empty senate , Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain . By heav'n , such virtues , join'd with such success , Distracts my very ...
... poor epitome of Roman greatness , And , cover'd with Numidian guards , directs A feeble army , and an empty senate , Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain . By heav'n , such virtues , join'd with such success , Distracts my very ...
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... poor , bleeding heart , Amidst its agonies , remember'd Marcia , And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel ! Alas ! he knew not , hapless youth , he knew not Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba ! The traitor Syphax , as ...
... poor , bleeding heart , Amidst its agonies , remember'd Marcia , And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel ! Alas ! he knew not , hapless youth , he knew not Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba ! The traitor Syphax , as ...
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... poor with aught , but thanks to pay such blessings ! Osman , Not so — I love , and would be lov'd again ; Let me confess it : I possess a soul , That what it wishes , wishes ardently . I should believe you hated , had you power To love ...
... poor with aught , but thanks to pay such blessings ! Osman , Not so — I love , and would be lov'd again ; Let me confess it : I possess a soul , That what it wishes , wishes ardently . I should believe you hated , had you power To love ...
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... poor children , whom I now deplore , If ye are saints in heav'n , as sure ye are , Look with an eye of pity on that brother , That sister whom you left ! If I have yet Or son or daughter ; for in early chains , Far from their lost and ...
... poor children , whom I now deplore , If ye are saints in heav'n , as sure ye are , Look with an eye of pity on that brother , That sister whom you left ! If I have yet Or son or daughter ; for in early chains , Far from their lost and ...
Страница 57
... poor Norval . Lady R. Know'st thou these gems ? Nor . Durst I believe mine eyes , But did my sire surpass the rest of men , As thou excellest all of womankind ? Lady R. Arise , my son . In me thou dost behold The poor remains of beauty ...
... poor Norval . Lady R. Know'st thou these gems ? Nor . Durst I believe mine eyes , But did my sire surpass the rest of men , As thou excellest all of womankind ? Lady R. Arise , my son . In me thou dost behold The poor remains of beauty ...
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Andromache art thou Belvidera better brother Capt captain Castalio Cato Ceph Cham Char Charles Colin daughter dear death DOCTOR DRUID dost thou Enter Eudocia Eumenes Exeunt Exit eyes Fain father fear fellow fool fortune gentleman give hand happy hear heart heaven Honey honour hope husband Juba Lady F Lady W ladyship leave live look Lord Lucy madam marriage marry matter mean Mirabell Miss never Oakly on't Osman pardon passion Pescara Polydore poor pr'ythee pray Pyrrhus Re-enter ruin Rusport Sackbut SCENE Serg servant Sfor Sir F Sir G sir John sister soul speak Ster Stuke sure swear sword Syphax tears tell thee there's thing thou art thou hast thought twas twill villain virtue what's wife wish woman wretch young Zara Zounds
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Страница 15 - Heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates Eternity to man. Eternity ! — thou pleasing — dreadful thought ! Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes and changes must we pass ! The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me ; But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.
Страница 21 - And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a dullness to my trembling heart. Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice, Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear Thy voice — my own affrights me with its echoes.
Страница 51 - My name is NORVAL: on the Grampian hills My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain, Whose constant cares were to increase his store, And keep his only son, myself, at home.
Страница 489 - Ay, your times were fine times indeed; you have been telling us of them for many a long year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion, that looks for all the world like an inn, but that we never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the lame dancing-master; and all our entertainment your old stories of Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough. I hate such oldfashioned trumpery. Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's old : old friends,...
Страница 489 - And am I to blame ? The poor boy was always too sickly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes...
Страница 15 - ... there is all Nature cries aloud Through all her works). He must delight in virtue ; And that which He delights in must be happy. But when ? or where ? This world was made for Caesar — I'm weary of conjectures — this must end them.
Страница 493 - After the disappointments of the day, welcome once more, Charles, to the comforts of a clean room and a good fire. Upon my word, a very well-looking house ; antique, but creditable. MARLOW. The usual fate of a large mansion. Having first ruined the master by good house-keeping, it at last comes to levy contributions as an inn.
Страница 493 - Ould Grouse in the gunroom: I can't help laughing at that — he! he! he! — for the soul of me. We have laughed at that these twenty years — ha!
Страница 353 - Have I not a wife? nay a wife that was a widow, a young widow, a handsome widow; and would be again a widow, but that I have a heart of proof, and something of a constitution to bustle through the ways of wedlock and this world!
Страница 15 - It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well ; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man ! Eternity ! thou pleasing, dreadful thought ! Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes...