The Dramatic Works of William Congreve, Esq; in Two Volumes. ...

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S. Crowder, C. Ware, and T. Payne, 1773

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Стр. 93 - And for a discerning man somewhat too passionate a lover, for I like her with all her faults; nay, like her for her faults. Her follies are so natural, or so artful, that they become her, and those affectations which in another woman would be odious serve but to make her more agreeable.
Стр. 170 - ... venial. At least think it is punishment enough that I have lost what in my heart I hold most dear, that to your cruel indignation I have offered up this beauty, and.
Стр. 94 - Marry her, marry her; be half as well acquainted with her charms as you are with her defects, and my life on't, you are your own man again.
Стр. 95 - tis better as 'tis. 'Tis better to trade with a little loss, than to be quite eaten up with being overstocked.
Стр. 124 - I thought there was something in it; but it seems it's over with you. Your loathing is not from a want of appetite then, but from a surfeit. Else you could never be so cool to fall from a principal to be an assistant, to procure for him! A pattern of generosity, that I confess.
Стр. 94 - em, that at length, contrary to my design and expectation, they gave me every hour less and less disturbance; till in a few days it became habitual to me to remember 'em without being displeased. They are now grown as familiar to me as my own frailties; and in all probability in a little time longer I shall like 'em as well.
Стр. 154 - Is he so unnatural, say you ? Truly I would contribute much both to the saving of your life and the accomplishment of your revenge. Not that I respect myself; though he has been a perfidious wretch to me. WAIT. Perfidious to you ? LADY. O Sir Rowland, the hours that he has died away at my feet...
Стр. 94 - em, and got 'em by rote. The catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes, one day or other, to hate her heartily: to which end I so...
Стр. 140 - I'll send him as I go — when they are together, then come to me, Foible, that I may not be too long alone with Sir Rowland.
Стр. 38 - Where every hour shall roll in circling joys, And love shall wing the tedious-wasting day : Life without love is load ; and time stands still : What we refuse to him, to death we give ; And then, then only, when we love, we live.

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