The Dramatic Works of Massinger and Ford |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 100
Page x
... believe , after all , that the principal reason why so little has been told of our old dramatists is - that there was very little to tell . They might , no doubt , have written most interesting autobiographies or reminiscences . But I ...
... believe , after all , that the principal reason why so little has been told of our old dramatists is - that there was very little to tell . They might , no doubt , have written most interesting autobiographies or reminiscences . But I ...
Page xix
... believe his conveyance in the body of a bass viol , and other particulars recorded by Sir Walter Scott in his " Peveril of the Peak , " to be altogether apocryphal ; but there may be some ground for his addiction to alchemy and the ...
... believe his conveyance in the body of a bass viol , and other particulars recorded by Sir Walter Scott in his " Peveril of the Peak , " to be altogether apocryphal ; but there may be some ground for his addiction to alchemy and the ...
Page xxi
... believe it has been sought diligently and in vain by more competent persons . Indeed , few authors of equal merit and reputation have been so little noticed by contemporaries , and none so nearly forgotten in succeeding times ...
... believe it has been sought diligently and in vain by more competent persons . Indeed , few authors of equal merit and reputation have been so little noticed by contemporaries , and none so nearly forgotten in succeeding times ...
Page xxii
... believe , had no real malice against any human being , who was neglected and maltreated at the period of life which should store up happy feelings to serve for the remainder ; and who declared , in the hearing of Mr. Southey , that he ...
... believe , had no real malice against any human being , who was neglected and maltreated at the period of life which should store up happy feelings to serve for the remainder ; and who declared , in the hearing of Mr. Southey , that he ...
Page xxx
... believe . If there ever were any such data , the " Master of the Revels " has intercepted them on their way to posterity . It is impossible to say in what measure he partook of the errors and superstitions which had encrusted ...
... believe . If there ever were any such data , the " Master of the Revels " has intercepted them on their way to posterity . It is impossible to say in what measure he partook of the errors and superstitions which had encrusted ...
Other editions - View all
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...