The dramatic works of John Ford, with an intr. and notes [by W. Harness?].

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Page 12 - He could not run division with more art Upon his quaking instrument than she, The nightingale, did with her various notes Reply to...
Page 327 - The king sent in the greater diligence, not knowing whether she might be with child, whereby the business would not have ended in Perkin's person. When she was brought to the king, it was commonly said, that the king received her not only with compassion, but with affection ; pity giving more impression...
Page 111 - I danc'd forward ; But it struck home, and here, and in an instant. Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcries Can vow a present end to all their sorrows : Yet live to vow new pleasures, and out-live them. They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings : Let me die smiling.
Page 175 - Glories Of human greatness are but pleasing dreams, And shadows soon decaying. On the stage Of my mortality, my youth hath acted Some scenes of vanity, drawn out at length By varied pleasures, sweeten'd in the mixture, But tragical in issue.
Page 221 - Sorrows mingled with contents, prepare Rest for care; Love only reigns in death; though art Can find no comfort for a broken heart.
Page 222 - I do not know where to find, in any play, a catastrophe so grand, so solemn, and so surprising as in this. This is, indeed, according to Milton, to describe high passions and high actions. The fortitude of the Spartan boy, who let a beast gnaw out his bowels till he died without expressing a groan, is a faint bodily image of this dilaceration of the spirit and exenteration of the inmost mind, which...
Page xix - Was whipp'd to exile by unblushing verse. This law we keep in our presentment now, Not to take freedom more than we allow ; What may be here thought FICTION, when time's youth Wanted some riper years, was known A TRUTH : In which, if words have cloth'd the subject right, You may partake a pity, with delight.
Page 99 - Twas safely carried ; I humbly thank thy fate. Ero, If earthly treasures Are pour'd in plenty down from heaven on mortals, They reign amongst those oracles that flow In schools of sacred knowledge, such is Athens ; Yet Athens was to me but a fair prison : The thoughts of you, my sister, country, fortunes, And something of the prince...

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