The Works of John Marston: The Dutch courtezan. The fawn. The wonder of women, or, The tragedy of Sophonisba. What you willJ.C. Nimmo, 1887 |
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Страница 332
... Jaco . Yon gleam is day ; darkness , sleep , and fear , Dreams , and the ugly visions of the night , Are beat to hell by the bright palm of light ; Now roams the swain , and whistles up the morn : Deep silence breaks ; all things start ...
... Jaco . Yon gleam is day ; darkness , sleep , and fear , Dreams , and the ugly visions of the night , Are beat to hell by the bright palm of light ; Now roams the swain , and whistles up the morn : Deep silence breaks ; all things start ...
Страница 334
... Jaco . Thy rhymes are spilt ! who would not run rank mad , To see a wandering Frenchman rival , nay , Outstrip my suit ? He kiss'd my Celia's cheek . 80 Qua . Why , man , I saw my dog even kiss thy Celia's lips . Jaco . To - morrow morn ...
... Jaco . Thy rhymes are spilt ! who would not run rank mad , To see a wandering Frenchman rival , nay , Outstrip my suit ? He kiss'd my Celia's cheek . 80 Qua . Why , man , I saw my dog even kiss thy Celia's lips . Jaco . To - morrow morn ...
Страница 337
... Jaco . O , I shall ne'er forget how he went clothed . He would maintain ' t a base ill - usèd fashion To bind a merchant to the sullen habit Of precise black ; chiefly in Venice state , Where merchants gilt the top ; And therefore ...
... Jaco . O , I shall ne'er forget how he went clothed . He would maintain ' t a base ill - usèd fashion To bind a merchant to the sullen habit Of precise black ; chiefly in Venice state , Where merchants gilt the top ; And therefore ...
Страница 338
... Jaco . O ill - nursed custom ! No sooner is the wealthy merchant dead , His wife left great in fair possessions , But giddy rumour grasps it ' twixt his teeth , And shakes it ' bout our ears . Then thither flock A rout of crazèd ...
... Jaco . O ill - nursed custom ! No sooner is the wealthy merchant dead , His wife left great in fair possessions , But giddy rumour grasps it ' twixt his teeth , And shakes it ' bout our ears . Then thither flock A rout of crazèd ...
Страница 339
... Jaco . Variety of objects please us still ; One dish , though ne'er so cook'd , doth quickly fill , When diverse cates the palate's sense delight , And with fresh taste creates new appetite ; Therefore my widow she cashiers the blacks ...
... Jaco . Variety of objects please us still ; One dish , though ne'er so cook'd , doth quickly fill , When diverse cates the palate's sense delight , And with fresh taste creates new appetite ; Therefore my widow she cashiers the blacks ...
Често срещани думи и фрази
Albano Asdrubal BIDET blood breast breath Carthage Celia Cirta Cocledemoy Cornets creature cuckold dear DONDOLO dost doth Duke DULCIMEL Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father Faunus Fawn fear fool fortune FRANCESCHINA Free Freevill gallants Gelosso give gods grace Granuffo Hark hate hath heart Heaven Herc Herod honest honour hope husband i'faith Is't Jaco Jacomo Jove JUGURTH kiss knave lady Lampatho Laverdure live lord Malheureux marry Mass Massinissa Master Mistress Mul Mulligrub night NYMPHADORO Old eds passion pity prince prithee protest Quadratus sall SCENE Scipio shame ship of fools signior Simplicius Sir Amor Sir Lio Sophonisba soul speak sweet Syphax thee there's thou art Tiberio troth twill Tyse Urbin virtue whilst wife wise woman Zanthia
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Страница 100 - a should not think of God ; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So 'a bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone ; then I felt to his knees, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.
Страница 144 - Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied : for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.
Страница 322 - Scoff's artillery. • Shall he be crest-fall'n, if some looser brain, In flux of wit uncivilly befilth His slight composures? Shall his bosom faint, If drunken Censure belch out sour breath From Hatred's surfeit on his labour's front? Nay, say some half a dozen rancorous breasts Should plant themselves on purpose to discharge Imposthum'd malice on his latest scene, Shall his resolve be struck through with the blirt Of a goose-breath?
Страница 110 - For mine own interest for once, let this be printed, — that of men of my own addiction I love most, pity some, hate none ; for let me truly say it, I once only loved myself, for loving them, and surely I shall ever rest so constant to my first affection, that let their ungentle combinings, discourteous whisperings, never so treacherously labour to undermine my unfenced reputation, I shall (as long as I have being) love the least of their graces, and only pity the greatest of their vices.
Страница 197 - I could be content that we might procreate like trees, without conjunction, or that there were any way to perpetuate the World without this trivial and vulgar way of union...
Страница 373 - That all the woods them answer, and their echo ring! Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights forepast; Enough is it that all the day was youres: Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast: Now bring the bryde into the brydall boures.
Страница 134 - And most are grown to ill, even with defence I vow to waste this most prodigious heat, That falls into my age like scorching flames In depth of numb'd December, in flattering all In all of their extremest viciousness, Till in their own lov'd race they fall most lame, And meet full butt the close of Vice's shame.
Страница 46 - tis grown one of the most unsavoury ceremonies : body o' beauty ! 'tis one of the most unpleasing injurious customs to ladies : any fellow that has but one nose on his face, and standing collar and skirts also...
Страница 310 - Dear lord, thy patience ; let it maze all power, And list to her in whose sole heart it rests To keep thy faith upright. Mass. Wilt thou be slaved ? So.
Страница 363 - I was a scholar : seven useful springs Did I deflower in quotations Of cross'd opinions 'bout the soul of man ; The more I learnt, the more I learnt to doubt. Delight...