The Dramatic Works of Massinger and FordE. Moxon, 1840 - 450 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 100–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ x
... Poor Daye that day not ' scaped away ; And what still more amazes , Immortal Cracke was burn'd all black , Which every body praises . " " Immortal Cracke " never recovered from his scorching ; but is dead and forgotten . Mr. Collier ...
... Poor Daye that day not ' scaped away ; And what still more amazes , Immortal Cracke was burn'd all black , Which every body praises . " " Immortal Cracke " never recovered from his scorching ; but is dead and forgotten . Mr. Collier ...
Էջ xi
... poor Burns ' death - bed supplication for the same trifle of five pounds . The incuriosity of contemporaries has been amply atoned in the last century . Letters , diaries , memoirs , family papers , public records - everything in ...
... poor Burns ' death - bed supplication for the same trifle of five pounds . The incuriosity of contemporaries has been amply atoned in the last century . Letters , diaries , memoirs , family papers , public records - everything in ...
Էջ xlii
... poor plight in the mendicant letter , was a man of good family , and academic education . In the preface to his " Christian turned Turk , " 1612 , he says , " my own descent is not obscure but generous . " He wrote besides the ...
... poor plight in the mendicant letter , was a man of good family , and academic education . In the preface to his " Christian turned Turk , " 1612 , he says , " my own descent is not obscure but generous . " He wrote besides the ...
Էջ xlix
... poor old Ben , not all our admiration of the contempt . But I do not , I cannot believe it . but can it be base ? Massinger himself was not tame to censure . Dramatist ought to save the man from Genius may be vicious , may be mad , It ...
... poor old Ben , not all our admiration of the contempt . But I do not , I cannot believe it . but can it be base ? Massinger himself was not tame to censure . Dramatist ought to save the man from Genius may be vicious , may be mad , It ...
Էջ li
... poor work suffered by the rage And envy of some Catos of the stage . Yet still he hopes this play , which then was seen , With sore eyes , and condemned out of their spleen , May be by you , the supreme judge , set free And raised above ...
... poor work suffered by the rage And envy of some Catos of the stage . Yet still he hopes this play , which then was seen , With sore eyes , and condemned out of their spleen , May be by you , the supreme judge , set free And raised above ...
Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
Common terms and phrases
Ador Anaxarete Asam assurance Beauf Beaumel blood Cæs Cæsar Cham Char Charal Clarin Cleon command confess court Creon dare daughter death deserve duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father favour fear Flac for't fortune Fran Frug Giov give Gnoth Grac grace grant guard hand happy hast hath hear heaven honour hope Iphis justice king kiss lady Lamia leave Leon Leost Leosthenes live look lord Luke lust Macrinus madam Malef Massinger master Mirt mistress ne'er never noble pardon Parth PARTHENIUS Pedro Peri PHILIP MASSINGER pity pleasure poor Pray prince PULCHERIA Re-enter Romont Sanaz SCENE scorn servant serve Sfor shew slave Soph soul speak stand Steph strange sweet sword thank thee Theo Theoph There's thou art thought Timag twas twill Ubald unto virgin virtue Vitel what's wife woman
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ xxv - UNDERNEATH this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, SIDNEY'S sister, PEMBROKE'S mother ; Death ! ere thou hast slain another, Learn'd and fair, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Էջ li - The tears into his eyes were brought. And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. — I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
Էջ lvi - Amid the groves, under the shadowy hills, The generations are prepared ; the pangs, The internal pangs, are ready ; the dread strife Of poor humanity's afflicted will Struggling in vain with ruthless destiny.
Էջ 37 - A lightless sulphur, chok'd with smoky fogs Of an infected darkness ; in this place Dwell many thousand thousand sundry sorts Of never-dying deaths ; there damned souls Roar without pity ; there are gluttons fed With toads and adders ; there is burning oil Pour'd down the drunkard's throat ; the usurer Is forc'd to sup whole draughts of molten gold...
Էջ 7 - No, my dear lady ; I could weary stars, And force the wakeful moon to lose her eyes, By my late watching, but to wait on you. When at your prayers you kneel before the altar, Methinks I'm singing with some quire in heaven, So blest I hold me in your company...
Էջ xli - Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for 't: these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages (so they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.
Էջ 191 - When did she flourish so, as when she was The mistress of the ocean, her navies Putting a girdle round about the world ? When the Iberian quaked, her worthies named; And the fair flower-de-luce grew pale, set by The red rose and the white...
Էջ 292 - Furn. No matter whom : yet, now I think on it, I am angry with my lady. Watch. Heaven forbid, man ! Ord. What cause has she given thee ? Furn. Cause enough, master steward. I was entertained by her to please her palate, And, till she forswore eating, I perform'd it. Now, since our master, noble Allworth, died...
Էջ 304 - But I'll make it no wonder ; And what is more, unfold my nature to you. We worldly men, when we see friends and kinsmen, Past hope sunk in their fortunes, lend no hand To lift them up, but rather set our feet Upon their heads, to press them to the bottom...
Էջ 328 - Compar'd with thee, are shadows, thou the substance And guardian of felicity. No marvel, My brother made thy place of rest his bosom, Thou being the keeper of his heart, a mistress To be hugg'd ever. In by-corners of This sacred room, silver, in bags heap'd up, Like billets saw'd and ready for the fire, Unworthy to hold fellowship with bright gold, That flow'd about the room, conceal'd itself. There needs no artificial light, the splendour Makes a perpetual day there, night and darkness By that still-burning...