Jane Shore: A Tragedy, in Five Acts

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T.H. Lacy, 1859 - 51 стор.
 

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Сторінка 8 - 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 9 - Name him no more : He was the bane and ruin of my peace. This anguish, and these tears, these are the legacies! His fatal love has left me. Thou wilt see me, Believe me, my Alicia, thou wilt see me, Ere yet a few short days pass o'er my head, Abandon'd to the very utmost wretchedness.
Сторінка 15 - Heav'n shall wink; No more his arm shall roll the dreadful thunder, Nor send his light'nings forth. No more his justice Shall visit the presuming sons of men, But perjury, like thine, shall dwell in safety. L. HAST. Whate'er my fate decrees for me hereafter, Be present to me now, my better angel!
Сторінка 12 - Free and unquestioned through the wilds of love ; While woman, sense and nature's easy fool, If poor weak woman swerve from virtue's rule, If, strongly charmed, she leave the thorny way, And in the softer paths of pleasure stray; Ruin ensues, reproach and endless shame, And one false step entirely damns her fame. In vain with tears the loss she may deplore, » In vain look back to what she was before, I She sets, like stars that fall, to rise no more.
Сторінка 4 - Those lords are each one my approv'd, good friends, Of special trust and nearness to my bosom; And howsoever busy they may seem, And diligent to bustle in the state, Their zeal goes on no farther than we lead, And at our bidding stays.
Сторінка 19 - Nor urge my rage too far, lest thou shouldst find I have as daring spirits in my blood As thou or any of thy race e'er boasted; And though no gaudy titles grac'd my birth, Titles, the servile courtier's lean reward, Sometimes the pay of virtue, but more oft The hire which greatness gives to slaves and sycophants, Yet heav'n, that made me honest, made me more Than ever king did when he made a lord.
Сторінка 25 - This foolish woman hangs about my heart, Lingers and wanders in my fancy still; This coyness is put on, 'tis art and cunning, And worn to urge desire — I must possess her. The groom who lift his saucy hand against me, Ere this, is humbled, and repents his daring.
Сторінка 26 - Has mov'd the people much about the lawfulness Of Edward's issue ? By right grave authority Of learning and religion, plainly proving, A bastard scion never should be grafted Upon a royal stock ; from thence at full Discoursing on my brother's former contract To lady Elizabeth Lucy, long before His jolly match with that same buxom widow, The queen he left behind him — HAST.
Сторінка 30 - How poor a thing is he, how worthy scorn, Who leaves the guidance of imperial manhood To such a paltry piece of stuff as this is! A moppet made of prettiness and pride ; That...
Сторінка 37 - Thy cruel scorn hath stung me to the heart, And set my burning bosom all in flames : Raving and mad I flew to my revenge, And writ I know not what — told the protector, That Shore's detested wife, by wiles, had won thee To plot against his greatness — He believ'd it, (Oh, dire event of my pernicious counsel !) And, while I meant destruction on her head, H

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