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Adam Alex Alexas Amboyna Antony Antony and Cleopatra Arim arms Art thou Asmoday Aureng-Zebe Beam bear beauty behold betray betwixt brave Caesar Charmion chuse Cleo Cleopatra command confess crime dare death DIANET Dola Dolabella Dryden Dutch Egypt emperor English Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fame farewell fate father favour fear fight Fisc foes forgive fortune give hand happy Harman haste hate hear heart heaven honour hope Indamora Iras Isab Isabinda JOHN DRYDEN kind king leave live look lord lost Lucif madam Melesinda mind mistress Morat nature ne'er never Nour o'er Octav Octavia pain passion pity pleased poet poetry praise queen Roman ruin scene scorn Serap shew sight slave soul speak stay sure tell thee thou thought Towerson true twas twill Vent Ventidius virtue wish Zebe
Page 171 - tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: To-morrow's falser than the former day; Lies worse, and, while it says, we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Page 354 - I'm eager to return before I go; For, all the pleasures I have known beat thick On my remembrance. — How I long for night! That both the sweets of mutual love may try, And triumph once o'er Caesar ere we die.
Page 170 - Tis much more hard to please himself than you ; And, out of no feigned modesty, this day Damns his laborious trifle of a play ; Not that it's worse than what before he writ, But he has now another taste of wit ; And, to confess a truth, though out of time, Grows weary of his long-loved mistress, Rhyme. Passion's too fierce to be in fetters bound, And Nature flies him like enchanted ground...
Page 411 - tis observed of every scribbling man, He grows a fop as fast as e'er he can ; Prunes up, and asks his oracle, the glass, If pink or purple best become his face. For our poor wretch, he neither rails nor prays; Nor likes your wit just as you like his plays; He has not yet so much of Mr.
Page 354 - I'll rather die, than take it. Will you go? Ant. Go ! Whither ? Go from all that's excellent ! Faith, honour, virtue, all good things forbid, That I should go from her, who sets my love Above the price of kingdoms.
Page 380 - Unmark'd of those that hear. Then she's so charming, Age buds at sight of her, and swells to youth: The holy priests gaze on her when she smiles, And with heav'd hands, forgetting gravity, They bless her wanton eyes: even I, who hate her, With a malignant joy behold such beauty, And, while I curse, desire it.
Page 361 - That men's desiring eyes were never wearied, But hung upon the object : To soft flutes The silver oars kept time ; and while they played, The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight ; And both to thought.
Page 407 - With them, the wreath of victory I made (Vain augury!) for him who now lies dead. You, Iras, bring the cure of all our ills.
Page 323 - On the utmost margin of the water-mark. Then, with so swift an ebb the flood drove backward, It slipt from underneath the scaly herd : Here monstrous phocaa panted on the shore ; Forsaken dolphins there, with their broad tails Lay lashing the departing waves : hard by them, Sea-horses' flound'ring in the slimy mud, Toss'd up their heads, and dash'd the ooze about them.