British Theatre, Том 6J. Bell, 1791 |
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Сторінка 11
... like thunder thro ' Glendarlock's towers , Have lower'd their note a pitch ; the flecker'd clouds , Lifting their misty curtain in the east , Unmask the weeping day . Enter MONTGOMERI hastily . Mont . Oh , are you THE ...
... like thunder thro ' Glendarlock's towers , Have lower'd their note a pitch ; the flecker'd clouds , Lifting their misty curtain in the east , Unmask the weeping day . Enter MONTGOMERI hastily . Mont . Oh , are you THE ...
Сторінка 12
John Bell. Enter MONTGOMERI hastily . Mont . Oh , are you men ? Have you less mercy than the winds and waves , That you stand here aloof ? Fitz - All . Why , what has chanc'd ? Mont . A noble vessel breaks upon the rocks , That jut from ...
John Bell. Enter MONTGOMERI hastily . Mont . Oh , are you men ? Have you less mercy than the winds and waves , That you stand here aloof ? Fitz - All . Why , what has chanc'd ? Mont . A noble vessel breaks upon the rocks , That jut from ...
Сторінка 13
... and RAYMOND . Fitz - All . What ho ! Montgomeri ! -the men are found . St. Val . Inhuman Englishmen ! Will you destroy Your brethren ? We are Normans.- Enter MONTGOMERI . Mont . Ye are men , Let Aa 1 . 13 THE CARMELITE .
... and RAYMOND . Fitz - All . What ho ! Montgomeri ! -the men are found . St. Val . Inhuman Englishmen ! Will you destroy Your brethren ? We are Normans.- Enter MONTGOMERI . Mont . Ye are men , Let Aa 1 . 13 THE CARMELITE .
Сторінка 14
... Mont . The Isle of Wight . St. Val . Alas ! that isle so fair should prove so fatal ! — And you our benefactor , by what name Shall we record you in our prayers ? Mont . I am call'd Montgomeri . St. Val . ' Twill be our grateful office ...
... Mont . The Isle of Wight . St. Val . Alas ! that isle so fair should prove so fatal ! — And you our benefactor , by what name Shall we record you in our prayers ? Mont . I am call'd Montgomeri . St. Val . ' Twill be our grateful office ...
Сторінка 15
... Mont . A lady's , whom we serve , of Norman birth ; St. Val . Then lead us to her gates , for we are Nor- mans ; Poor helpless men , fainting with want of food And over - watching : tedious nights and days We struggled with the storm ...
... Mont . A lady's , whom we serve , of Norman birth ; St. Val . Then lead us to her gates , for we are Nor- mans ; Poor helpless men , fainting with want of food And over - watching : tedious nights and days We struggled with the storm ...
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Alic Alicia arms art thou behold Belmour Boad Boadicea bosom brave breast Burleigh Carmelite Christian Cross Cour Courci death dost thou dreadful Dumnorix Earl of Essex Ebran Enob Enter Essex Ev'n ev'ry Exeunt Exit eyes faithful falchion fall fame fate fear Flam Flaminius foes gen'rous gentle give Glost Gloster grace gracious grief Gyfford hand hast thou hath hear heart Heav'n Hild honour hope horror husband Icenian injur'd JANE SHORE justice lady live Lord HASTINGS Lord Hildebrand Madam malice mercy Mont Montgomeri ne'er never noble Nottingham o'er passion peace pity pow'r queen rage Roman royal Saint Valori SCENE scorn shame sorrows soul Southampton speak Suetonius tears tell Tenan Tenantius tender terrors thee thou art thou hast thought thro trembling Trinobantians truth valour Venusia virtue woman wou'd wounds wretch
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Сторінка 19 - Age sits with decent grace upon his visage, And worthily becomes his silver locks; He wears the marks of many years well spent, Of virtue, truth well tried, and wise experience; A friend like this would suit my sorrows well.
Сторінка 21 - And yet some of those days my friend has known, Some of those years might pass for golden ones, At least if womankind can judge of happiness. What could we wish, we who delight in empire, Whose beauty is our...
Сторінка 23 - Does Hastings undertake to plead your cause? But wherefore should he not? Hastings has eyes; The gentle lord has a right tender heart, Melting and easy, yielding to impression, And catching the soft flame from each new beauty.
Сторінка 66 - Should'ring each other, crowding for a view, Gaping and gazing, taunting and reviling; Some pitying, but those, alas! how few! The most, such iron hearts we are, and such The base barbarity of human kind, With...
Сторінка 20 - The senseless grave feels not your pious sorrows : Three years and more are past, since I was bid, With many of our common friends, to wait him To his last peaceful mansion. I attended, Sprinkled his clay-cold corse with holy drops, According to our church's rev'rend rite, And saw him laid in hallow'd ground, to rest.
Сторінка 28 - What proof, alas! have I not given of love? What have I not abandon'd to thy arms? Have I not set at nought my noble birth, A spotless fame and an unblemish'd race, The peace of innocence and pride of virtue?
Сторінка 55 - Dare not, ev'n for thy soul, to thwart me , further ! None of your arts, your feigning and your foolery ; Your dainty squeamish coying it to me ; Go — to your lord, your paramour, begone ! Lisp in his ear, hang wanton on his neck, And play your monkey gambols o'er to him.
Сторінка 16 - Till life fled from us like an idle dream, A show of mommery without a meaning. My brother, rest and pardon to his soul, Is gone to his account; for this his minion.
Сторінка 69 - Which the sun ripens in the Indian mine, Or the rich bosom of the ocean yields ; What was there art could make, or wealth could buy, •• Which I have left unsought to deck her beauty ? What could her king do more?