The Dramatic Works of Massinger and Ford |
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Page 49
... Grac . Take every man his flaggon : give the oath To all you meet ; I am this day the state - drunkard , I am sure against my will ; and if you find A man at ten that's sober , he's a traitor , And , in my name , arrest him . Jul . Very ...
... Grac . Take every man his flaggon : give the oath To all you meet ; I am this day the state - drunkard , I am sure against my will ; and if you find A man at ten that's sober , he's a traitor , And , in my name , arrest him . Jul . Very ...
Page 50
... Grac . Fie ! no : I know them , You need not swear them ; your lord , by his patent , Stands bound to take his rouse . Long live the dutchess ! [ Exeunt GRAC . JUL . and Gro , Steph . The cause of this ? but yesterday the court Wore the ...
... Grac . Fie ! no : I know them , You need not swear them ; your lord , by his patent , Stands bound to take his rouse . Long live the dutchess ! [ Exeunt GRAC . JUL . and Gro , Steph . The cause of this ? but yesterday the court Wore the ...
Page 55
... Grac . You shall scrape , and I will sing A scurvy ditty to a scurvy tune , Repine who dares . i Fid . But if we should offend , Who are to keep their honours , who to lose them ; Who the dutchess smiled on last , or on whom frown'd ...
... Grac . You shall scrape , and I will sing A scurvy ditty to a scurvy tune , Repine who dares . i Fid . But if we should offend , Who are to keep their honours , who to lose them ; Who the dutchess smiled on last , or on whom frown'd ...
Page 56
... Grac . Now the game begins . Marc . You durst not , else , on any hire or hope , Remembering what I am , and whose I am , Put on the desperate boldness , to disturb The least of my retirements . Mari . Note her , now . Marc . For both ...
... Grac . Now the game begins . Marc . You durst not , else , on any hire or hope , Remembering what I am , and whose I am , Put on the desperate boldness , to disturb The least of my retirements . Mari . Note her , now . Marc . For both ...
Page 57
... Grac . I preach patience , And must endure my fortune . 1 Fid . I was never yet At such a hunt's - up , nor was so rewarded . [ Exeunt all but FRANCISCO and MARCELIA . Fran . Let them first know themselves , and how you are To be served ...
... Grac . I preach patience , And must endure my fortune . 1 Fid . I was never yet At such a hunt's - up , nor was so rewarded . [ Exeunt all but FRANCISCO and MARCELIA . Fran . Let them first know themselves , and how you are To be served ...
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Common terms and phrases
Ador Anaxarete Asam assurance Beauf Beaumel blood Cæs Cæsar Cham Char Charal Clarin Cleon command confess court Creon dare daughter death deserve duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father favour fear Flac for't fortune Fran Frug Giov give Gnoth Grac grace grant guard hand happy hast hath hear heaven honour hope Iphis justice king kiss lady Lamia leave Leon Leost Leosthenes live look lord Luke lust Macrinus madam Malef Massinger master Mirt mistress ne'er never noble pardon Parth PARTHENIUS Pedro Peri PHILIP MASSINGER pity pleasure poor Pray prince PULCHERIA Re-enter Romont Sanaz SCENE scorn servant serve Sfor shew slave Soph soul speak stand Steph strange sweet sword thank thee Theo Theoph There's thou art thought Timag twas twill Ubald unto virgin virtue Vitel what's wife woman
Popular passages
Page xxv - UNDERNEATH this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, SIDNEY'S sister, PEMBROKE'S mother ; Death ! ere thou hast slain another, Learn'd and fair, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Page li - The tears into his eyes were brought. And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. — I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
Page lvi - Amid the groves, under the shadowy hills, The generations are prepared ; the pangs, The internal pangs, are ready ; the dread strife Of poor humanity's afflicted will Struggling in vain with ruthless destiny.
Page 37 - A lightless sulphur, chok'd with smoky fogs Of an infected darkness ; in this place Dwell many thousand thousand sundry sorts Of never-dying deaths ; there damned souls Roar without pity ; there are gluttons fed With toads and adders ; there is burning oil Pour'd down the drunkard's throat ; the usurer Is forc'd to sup whole draughts of molten gold...
Page 7 - No, my dear lady ; I could weary stars, And force the wakeful moon to lose her eyes, By my late watching, but to wait on you. When at your prayers you kneel before the altar, Methinks I'm singing with some quire in heaven, So blest I hold me in your company...
Page xli - Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for 't: these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages (so they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.
Page 191 - When did she flourish so, as when she was The mistress of the ocean, her navies Putting a girdle round about the world ? When the Iberian quaked, her worthies named; And the fair flower-de-luce grew pale, set by The red rose and the white...
Page 292 - Furn. No matter whom : yet, now I think on it, I am angry with my lady. Watch. Heaven forbid, man ! Ord. What cause has she given thee ? Furn. Cause enough, master steward. I was entertained by her to please her palate, And, till she forswore eating, I perform'd it. Now, since our master, noble Allworth, died...
Page 304 - But I'll make it no wonder ; And what is more, unfold my nature to you. We worldly men, when we see friends and kinsmen, Past hope sunk in their fortunes, lend no hand To lift them up, but rather set our feet Upon their heads, to press them to the bottom...
Page 328 - Compar'd with thee, are shadows, thou the substance And guardian of felicity. No marvel, My brother made thy place of rest his bosom, Thou being the keeper of his heart, a mistress To be hugg'd ever. In by-corners of This sacred room, silver, in bags heap'd up, Like billets saw'd and ready for the fire, Unworthy to hold fellowship with bright gold, That flow'd about the room, conceal'd itself. There needs no artificial light, the splendour Makes a perpetual day there, night and darkness By that still-burning...