The Ancient British Drama ...Walter Scott W. Miller, 1810 - 614 стор. |
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Сторінка 11
... hands to death , bound and lock'd fast In her last winding sheet , when I gave thee But one . Brach . Thou hadst given ... hand , boy , growing to a soldier ? Gio . Give me a pike . F. de Med . What , practising your pike so young , fair ...
... hands to death , bound and lock'd fast In her last winding sheet , when I gave thee But one . Brach . Thou hadst given ... hand , boy , growing to a soldier ? Gio . Give me a pike . F. de Med . What , practising your pike so young , fair ...
Сторінка 13
... hand I'll kiss ; This is the latest ceremony of my love . Henceforth I'll never lie with thee : by this , This ... hands Seal'd to the separation . Brach . Ne'er lie with me ? Isa . Let not my former dotage Make thee an unbeliever ; this ...
... hand I'll kiss ; This is the latest ceremony of my love . Henceforth I'll never lie with thee : by this , This ... hands Seal'd to the separation . Brach . Ne'er lie with me ? Isa . Let not my former dotage Make thee an unbeliever ; this ...
Сторінка 17
... hand , little bigger than a candle of twelve i'th ' pound . Law . O , but he is an excellent horseman . Flam . A lame one in his lofty tricks ; he sleeps a horseback 33 like a poulter . Enter English and Spanish . Law . Lo ' you my ...
... hand , little bigger than a candle of twelve i'th ' pound . Law . O , but he is an excellent horseman . Flam . A lame one in his lofty tricks ; he sleeps a horseback 33 like a poulter . Enter English and Spanish . Law . Lo ' you my ...
Сторінка 28
... hand , that cursed hand ! which I have wearied With doating kisses ! O my sweetest dutchess ! How lovely art thou now ! thy loose thoughts Scatter like quicksilver : I was bewitch'd ; For all the world speaks ill of thee , Vit . Cor ...
... hand , that cursed hand ! which I have wearied With doating kisses ! O my sweetest dutchess ! How lovely art thou now ! thy loose thoughts Scatter like quicksilver : I was bewitch'd ; For all the world speaks ill of thee , Vit . Cor ...
Сторінка 29
... Hand her , my lord , and kiss her be not like A ferret , to let go your hold with blowing . Brach . Let us renew right hands . Vit . Cor . Hence ! Brach . Never shall rage , or the forgetful wine , Make me commait like fault . Flam ...
... Hand her , my lord , and kiss her be not like A ferret , to let go your hold with blowing . Brach . Let us renew right hands . Vit . Cor . Hence ! Brach . Never shall rage , or the forgetful wine , Make me commait like fault . Flam ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
AKERCOCK Andromana Antonio Artemia Blan blood Brach Bran brother Capt captain Clown cuckold death devil Don CARLOS Don JULIO Don ZANCHO doth Dotterel Duke Dutch Enter Don Euph Evadne Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father fear Flam fool fortune Fran FRANCISCA gentleman give hand happy hast hath hear heart Heaven HENGIST honest honour hope husband king king of Kent lady leave live look lord madam marriage marry master master constable means merry methinks mistress ne'er never night noble Octavio on't Pambo pardon Plangus play poison'd Porcia pr'ythee pray prince servant shew sister soul speak stay sure sweet sword tell thee Theod there's thing thou art thought twas twill unto wench what's Whaw wife Wild woman
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Сторінка 225 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Сторінка 352 - As when to them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore Of Araby the Blest; with, such delay Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles...
Сторінка 228 - Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the poor ; This year, a reservoir, to keep and spare ; The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir, In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst, And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst.
Сторінка 41 - Ha! I can stand thee. Nearer, nearer yet. What a mockery hath death made of thee? Thou look'st sad. In what place art thou? in yon starry gallery, Or in the cursed dungeon? No? not speak? Pray, sir, resolve me, what religion's best For a man to die in? or is it in your knowledge To answer me how long I have to live?
Сторінка 36 - O thou soft natural death, that art joint-twin To sweetest slumber ! no rough-bearded comet Stares on thy mild departure ; the dull owl Beats not against thy casement ; the hoarse wolf Scents not thy carrion. Pity winds thy corse Whilst horror waits on princes.
Сторінка 288 - O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i" the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Сторінка 577 - And three months' sickness sucks up life in 'em. They denied me often flour, barm, (and milk, Goose-grease and tar, when I ne'er hurt their churnings, Their brew-locks nor their batches, nor forespoke Any of their breedings. Now I'll be meet with 'em.
Сторінка 531 - But hold some two days conference with the dead, From them I should learn somewhat I am sure I never shall know here. I'll tell thee a miracle ; I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow. Th...
Сторінка 533 - Not a whit: What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds ? or to be smothered With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls ? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits ; and 'tis found They go on such strange geometrical hinges, You may open them both ways: any way, for heaven sake, So I were out of your whispering.
Сторінка 596 - em), and they lose not by 'I . I give 'em barley soak'd in infants' blood : They shall have semina cum sanguine, Their gorge cramm'd full, if they come once to our house : We are no niggard.