The lady's trial. The sun's darling. The witch of Edmonton. Fames memorial. Poems. Honour triumphant. A line of life. Glossarial index

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Lawrence and Bullen, 1895
 

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Page 247 - A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Page 236 - I am dried up With cursing and with madness; and have yet No blood to moisten these sweet lips of thine. Stand on thy hind-legs up — kiss me, my Tommy, And rub away some wrinkles on my brow, By making my old ribs to shrug for joy Of thy fine tricks. What hast thou done ? let's tickle. Hast thou struck the horse lame as I bid thee?
Page 191 - What is the name, where, and by what art learn'd ? What spells, what charms, or invocations, May the thing call'd Familiar be purchased ? 1 am shunn'd And hated like a sickness : made a scorn To all degrees and sexes.
Page 191 - ... for that be made a common sink, For all the filth and rubbish of men's tongues To fall and run into? Some call me Witch, And being ignorant of myself, they go About to teach me how to be one; urging, That my bad tongue (by their bad usage made so) Forespeaks their cattle, doth bewitch their corn, Themselves, their servants, and their babes at nurse. This they enforce upon me; and in part Make me to credit it; and here comes one Of my chief adversaries.
Page 196 - After such covenants seal'd, see full revenge On all that wrong me ? Dog. Ha, ha ! silly woman ! The devil is no liar to such as he loves : Didst ever know or hear the devil a liar To such as he affects ? Saw. Then 12 I am thine; at least so much of me As I can call mine own— Dog.
Page 149 - CAST away care, he that loves sorrow Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow: Money is trash; and he that will spend it, Let him drink merrily, Fortune will send it.
Page 118 - Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu ! she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick-song ! Who is't now we hear ? None but the lark so shrill and clear ; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings.
Page 194 - And hated like a sickness ; made a scorn To all degrees and sexes. I have heard old beldams Talk of familiars in the shape of mice, Rats, ferrets, weasels, and I wot not what, That have appear'd, and suck'd, some say, their blood ; But by what means they came acquainted with them, I am now ignorant.
Page 190 - And why on me ? why should the envious world Throw all their scandalous malice upon me ? 'Cause I am poor, deform'd, and ignorant, And like a bow buckled and bent together By some more strong in mischiefs than myself; Must I for that be made a common sink For all the filth and rubbish of men's tongues To fall and run into ? Some call me Witch, And being ignorant, of myself, they go About to teach me how to be one : urging That my bad tongue (by their bad usage made so) Forespeaks their cattle, doth...
Page 237 - I prithee let me scratch thy face ; for thy pen has flay'd off a great many men's skins. You'll have brave doings in the vacation; for knaves and fools are at variance in every village. I'll sue mother Sawyer, and her own sow shall give in evidence against her.

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