The Ancient British Drama ...Walter Scott W. Miller, 1810 - 614 pagina's |
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Pagina 7
... what dost thou there ? Duke's Ganymede , Juno's jealous of thy long stockings . Shadow of a wo- man , what would'st ... what's the common news abroad , Malevole ? thou dogg'st rumour still . Mal . Common news ? why , common words are ...
... what dost thou there ? Duke's Ganymede , Juno's jealous of thy long stockings . Shadow of a wo- man , what would'st ... what's the common news abroad , Malevole ? thou dogg'st rumour still . Mal . Common news ? why , common words are ...
Pagina 12
... what bewitched election made me doat on thee ? what sorcery made me love thee ? but be gone ! bury thy head ! O that I could do more than loath thee ! hence , worst of ill ! " No reason ask , our reason is our will . ” [ Exit with ...
... what bewitched election made me doat on thee ? what sorcery made me love thee ? but be gone ! bury thy head ! O that I could do more than loath thee ! hence , worst of ill ! " No reason ask , our reason is our will . ” [ Exit with ...
Pagina 28
... what orb soc'er thy soul is throned , Behold me worthily most miserable ! O let the anguish of my contrite spirit Intreat some reconciliation : If not , O joy , triumph in my just grief , Death is the end of woe , and tears relief . P ...
... what orb soc'er thy soul is throned , Behold me worthily most miserable ! O let the anguish of my contrite spirit Intreat some reconciliation : If not , O joy , triumph in my just grief , Death is the end of woe , and tears relief . P ...
Pagina 31
... what hope hast thou of the du- chess's easiness ? Maq . ' Twill go hard : She was a cold creature ever ; she hated ... what's constancy ? but fables feigned ; odd old fools ' chat , devised by jealous fools , to wrong our liberty . Mal ...
... what hope hast thou of the du- chess's easiness ? Maq . ' Twill go hard : She was a cold creature ever ; she hated ... what's constancy ? but fables feigned ; odd old fools ' chat , devised by jealous fools , to wrong our liberty . Mal ...
Pagina 42
... what made he here ? I sent hin About affairs to be dispatched in haste . Ryn . Well , sir , lest silence breed unjust ... what's his company , I pray ? not wenches . Ryn . Wenches ! I durst be sworn he never smelt a wench's breath ; Yet ...
... what made he here ? I sent hin About affairs to be dispatched in haste . Ryn . Well , sir , lest silence breed unjust ... what's his company , I pray ? not wenches . Ryn . Wenches ! I durst be sworn he never smelt a wench's breath ; Yet ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Antonio blood brother Clare Colax Cric cuckold devil dost doth Duke Eastward Hoe Eiron Enter Epire Exeunt Exit eyes faith falling band father fear fool gentlemen give gleek gold Gost hand hath hear heart heaven honest Honest Whore honour hope husband i'faith i'the is't Jarvis Joice keep kiss knave lady live look lord madam maid maidenhead marriage married master mistress Moll ne'er Neph never night on't Phan play Plot pr'ythee pray Rash rogue Scar SCENE shew Sir Boun Sir Pet sirrah sister Small-sh soul Spanish Tragedy speak Spen Staines sweet Tactus tell thee there's thing thou art thou shalt Throate tongue Trin Trincalo troth Tu quoque twas twill unto villain Ware wench Wendoll what's whore widow wife Wild woman word Zounds
Populaire passages
Pagina 577 - I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun...
Pagina 117 - For doating on her beauty, though her death Shall be revenged after no common action. Does the silkworm expend her yellow labours For thee? For thee does she undo herself? Are lordships sold to maintain ladyships For the poor benefit of a bewildering minute? Why does yon...
Pagina 447 - More distress'd in this Than all my troubles ! Hale me back, Double my irons, and my sparing meals Put into halves, and lodge me in a dungeon More deep, more dark, more cold, more comfortless ! By Acton freed! Not all thy manacles Could fetter so my heels, as this one word Hath thrall'd my heart; and it must now lie bound In more strict prison than thy stony gaol.
Pagina 539 - ... his nature, in his time, of better ability in performance of what he undertook, more applauded by the audience, of greater grace at the court, or of more general love in the city : and so with this brief character of his memory I commit him to his rest.
Pagina 118 - Thou may'st lie chaste now! It were fine, methinks To have thee seen at revels, forgetful feasts And unclean brothels; sure 'twould fright the sinner And make him a good coward, put a reveller Out of his antic amble, And cloy an epicure with empty dishes. Here might a scornful and ambitious woman Look through and through herself; see, ladies with false forms You deceive men, but cannor deceive worms.
Pagina 59 - Fortune, the great commandress of the world> Hath divers ways to advance her followers : To some she gives honour without deserving, To other some, deserving without honour...
Pagina 131 - This murder might have slept in tongueless brass But for ourselves, and the world died an ass. Now I remember too, here was Piato Brought forth a knavish sentence once ; No doubt (said he), but time Will make the murderer bring forth himself. 'Tis well he died ; he was a witch.
Pagina 431 - Bastard without a father to acknowledge it ; true it is that my plays are not exposed to the world in volumes, to bear the title of works (as others *) : one reason is, that many of them by shifting and change of companies, have been negligently lost. Others of them are still retained in the hands of some actors, who think it against their peculiar profit to have them come in print, and a third that it never was any great ambition in me to be in this kind voluminously read.
Pagina 38 - ... cold, dull mass, which glittered no longer than it was shooting ; a dwarfish thought, dressed up in gigantic words, repetition in abundance, looseness of expression, and gross hyperboles ; the sense of one line expanded prodigiously into ten ; and, to sum up all, uncorrect English, and a hideous mingle of false poetry and true nonsense ; or, at best, a scantling of wit, which lay gasping for life, and groaning beneath a heap of rubbish.
Pagina 199 - Roses and bays, pack hence ! this crown and robe, My brows and body circles and invests. How gallantly it fits me! sure the slave Measured my head that wrought this coronet They lie, that say complexions cannot change ; My blood's ennobled, and I am transform'd Unto the sacred temper of a king.