The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher: The maids tragedy. Philaster. A king, and no king. The scornful lady. The custom of the country

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University Press, 1905
 

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Стр. 17 - Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew; Maidens, willow branches bear; Say I died true: My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth!
Стр. 111 - Tis less than to be born ; a lasting sleep, A quiet resting from all jealousy ; A thing we all pursue ; I know besides It is but giving over of a game That must be lost.
Стр. 148 - In presence of you, I had had my end. For this I did delude my noble father With a feigned pilgrimage, and dressed myself In habit of a boy ; and, for I knew My birth no match for you, I was past hope Of having you ; and, understanding well That when I made discovery of my sex I...
Стр. 89 - em he would weep As if he meant to make 'em grow again. Seeing such pretty helpless innocence Dwell in his face, I ask'd him all his story. He told me that his parents gentle, died, Leaving him to the mercy of the fields Which gave him roots ; and of the crystal springs, Which did not stop their courses; and the sun, Which still, he thank'd him, yielded him his light.
Стр. 51 - My lord, Give me your griefs : You are an innocent, A soul as white as heaven ; let not my sins Perish your noble youth. I do not fall here To shadow, by dissembling with my tears, (As, all say, women can), or to make less, What my hot will hath done, which Heaven and you Know to be tougher than the hand of time Can cut from man's remembrance.
Стр. 16 - In giving me a spotless offering To young Amintor's bed, as we are now For you. Pardon, Evadne ; 'would my worth Were great as yours, or that the king, or he, Or both, thought so ! Perhaps he found me worthless : But, till he did so, in these ears of mine, These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words 92 The Maid's Tragedy ACT n. That art or love could frame.
Стр. 95 - Oh, delicate sweet prince ! She that hath snow enough about her heart To take the wanton spring of ten such lines off, May be a nun without probation. \Aside.~\ — Sir, You have in such neat poetry gathered a kiss, That if I had but five lines of that number, Such pretty begging blanks, I should commend Your forehead or your cheeks, and kiss you too.
Стр. 90 - In outward ceremonies, the dear love Writ in my heart. Phi. If I shall have an answer no directlier, I am gone. Pha. To what would he have answer ? Are. To his claim unto the kingdom. Pha. Sirrah, I forbare you before the King — Phi. Good sir, do so still : I would not talk with you.
Стр. 9 - He will wrong you, or me, or any man, And talk as if he had no life to lose, Since this our match. The King is coming in ; I would not for more wealth than I enjoy He should perceive you raging : he did hear You were at difference now, which hastened him.
Стр. 28 - Tis true.— But she, [Aside. As if she had drank Lethe, or had made Even with Heaven, did fetch so still a sleep, So sweet and sound Diph. What's that? Amin. Your sister frets This morning; and does turn her eyes upon me, As people on their headsman. She does chafe, And kiss, and chafe again, and clap my cheeks ; She's in another world. Diph. Then I had lost: I was about to lay You had not got her maidenhead to-night. Amin.

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