Chatsworth; or, The romance of a week [by P.G. Patmore]. Ed. by the author of 'Tremaine'. |
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Сторінка 41
... silent and motionless as the villages we wander through in dreams . Yet not so . See ! the window - sill , ( till now vacant , ) round which cluster those lovely roses of Provence and honey - suckles of England , is occupied by a snow ...
... silent and motionless as the villages we wander through in dreams . Yet not so . See ! the window - sill , ( till now vacant , ) round which cluster those lovely roses of Provence and honey - suckles of England , is occupied by a snow ...
Сторінка 105
... silent , —from an instinctive sagacity , which told him that the two most important operations of life cannot be efficiently performed by the same organ at the same time : a forget- fulness of which is constantly spoiling the best ...
... silent , —from an instinctive sagacity , which told him that the two most important operations of life cannot be efficiently performed by the same organ at the same time : a forget- fulness of which is constantly spoiling the best ...
Сторінка 131
... silent admiration , as on some divine incentive to thoughts of virtue and deeds of nobleness . And this , and no other , was the Lady Dorigen to Arviragus , for a long period ; until he had acquired a settled habit of so dressing his ...
... silent admiration , as on some divine incentive to thoughts of virtue and deeds of nobleness . And this , and no other , was the Lady Dorigen to Arviragus , for a long period ; until he had acquired a settled habit of so dressing his ...
Сторінка 154
... silent , she continued to speak ; though she did not fail to observe the sudden , and , to her , the inexplicable change , that passed over his face , the moment he perceived the subject on which she was addressing him . " I am sure I ...
... silent , she continued to speak ; though she did not fail to observe the sudden , and , to her , the inexplicable change , that passed over his face , the moment he perceived the subject on which she was addressing him . " I am sure I ...
Сторінка 157
... few words— " Lady , you can do me good ! you can , and no one else ! -I must speak or die ! I have tried to be silent , and I have been so , almost at the price of my life . But it will not be , any longer CHATSWORTH . 157.
... few words— " Lady , you can do me good ! you can , and no one else ! -I must speak or die ! I have tried to be silent , and I have been so , almost at the price of my life . But it will not be , any longer CHATSWORTH . 157.
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Chatsworth; Or, the Romance of a Week, Том 1 P. G. (Peter George) Patmore Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2012 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
addressed Amintor Antonio Antonio de Mendoza apartment Armorica Armusia Arviragus Aspatia attend Aurelius beauty brother Calianax calm Camilla CHAPTER Chatsworth Cleon continued Corregidor dare Diphilus Don Carlos Don Henriquez door Ernesto Evadne exclaimed eyes face fatal favour fear feelings felt Flora gazing gentle grief hand happy hear heard heart Helicanus hitherto honour hope hour illuminati immediately instant instantly King Lady Dorigen Lady Portia late leave less listen look lord Lysimachus maiden Marina Matlock Bath Melantius mind Mitylene momentary nature never night noble Octavio once palace passed passion pause Pericles Piniero possession present Prince Princess Queen Quisara replied Rowsley Ruy Dias scarcely scene seek seeming priest sight silent Simonides sister smile sorrow soul speak stood strange suddenly sweet tell Thaisa Tharsus thing thoughts Tidore tion tone turned uttered voice words youth
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Сторінка 127 - Asp. It were a timeless smile should prove my cheek : It were a fitter hour for me to laugh, When at the altar the religious priest Were pacifying the offended powers With sacrifice, than now.
Сторінка 149 - Full with her sorrow, she tied fast her eyes To the fair Trojan ships, and having lost them, Just as thine eyes do, down stole a tear, Antiphila. What would this wench do, if she were Aspatia ? Here she would stand,- till some more pitying god Turn'd her to marble: 'tis enough, my wench ; Show me the piece of needle-work you wrought. Ant. Of Ariadne, madam ? Asp. Yes, that piece. This should be Theseus, h' as a cozening face ; You meant him for a man ? Ant.
Сторінка 82 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
Сторінка 129 - You'll come, my lord, and see the virgins weep When I am laid in earth, though you yourself Can know no pity : thus I wind myself Into this willow garland, and am prouder, That I was once your love (though now refus'd) Than to have had another true to me.
Сторінка 127 - 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 eredulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words That art or love could frame.
Сторінка 150 - Twill make the story, wrong'd by wanton poets, Live long and be believ'd ; but where's the lady ? Ant. There, madam. Asp. Fie, you have miss'd it here, Antiphila, You are much mistaken, wench ; These colours are not dull and pale enough, To shew a soul so full of misery As this sad lady's was...
Сторінка 150 - To show a soul so full of misery As this sad lady's was. Do it by me, Do it again by me, the lost Aspatia ; And you shall find all true but the wild island. Suppose I stand upon the sea-beach now...
Сторінка 79 - The pale face is resting on clasped hand, — over which, and all round the small exquisitely modelled head, fall heavy waves of auburn hair, concealing all but one pale cheek — pale and cold as marble, but smooth and soft as a girl's.
Сторінка 149 - When Paris brought home Helen. Now, a tear; And then thou art a piece expressing fully The Carthage queen, when, from a cold sea-rock, Full with her sorrow, she tied fast her eyes To the fair Trojan ships ; and, having lost them, Just as thine eyes do, down stole a tear. Antiphila...
Сторінка 224 - This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel A stark affrighted motion in my blood ; My soul grows weary of her house, and I All over am a trouble to myself.