William Congreve

Voorkant
American Book Company, 1912 - 466 pagina's

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Pagina 46 - And just abandoning the ungrateful stage : Unprofitably kept at Heaven's expense, I live a rent-charge on his providence. But you, whom every Muse and Grace adorn, Whom I foresee to better fortune born, Be kind to my remains ; and, oh defend, Against your judgment, your departed friend! Let not the insulting foe my fame pursue, But shade those laurels which descend to you : And take for tribute what these lines express ; You merit more, nor could my love do less.
Pagina 334 - ... tea-table talk— such as mending of fashions, spoiling reputations, railing at absent friends, and so forth— but that on no account you encroach upon the men's prerogative, and presume to drink healths, or toast fellows...
Pagina 357 - Ah, madam, there was a time! — but let it be forgotten — I confess I have deservedly forfeited the high place I once held of sighing at your feet. Nay, kill me not, by turning from me in disdain.
Pagina 390 - How reverend is the face of this tall pile, Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, To bear aloft its arched and ponderous roof, By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, Looking tranquillity. It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
Pagina 280 - Tis no matter for that, his wit will excuse that. A wit should no more be sincere than a woman constant: one argues a decay of parts, as t'other of beauty.
Pagina 350 - O daughter, daughter, is it possible thou should'st be my child, bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh, and as I may say, another me, and yet transgress the most minute particle of severe virtue?
Pagina 334 - Are you? I think I have— and the horrid man looks as if he thought so too— well, you ridiculous thing you, I'll have you — I won't be kissed, nor I won't be thanked— here kiss my hand though. — So, hold your tongue now, don't say a word.
Pagina 157 - O Mr. Trapland, my old friend, welcome ! — Jeremy, a chair quickly ; a bottle of sack and a toast ; — fly — a chair first.
Pagina 416 - Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
Pagina 365 - em judging in the pit; Though they're on no pretence for judgment fit, But that they have been damned for want of wit. . Since when, they by their own offences taught, Set up for spies on plays and finding fault.

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