Beaumont & Fletcher, Volume 2

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Page 341 - Shepherds all, and maidens fair, Fold your flocks up, for the air 'Gins to thicken, and the sun Already his great course hath run. See the dew-drops how they kiss Every little flower that is ; Hanging on their velvet heads, Like a rope of crystal beads.
Page 328 - Pan, O great god Pan, to thee Thus do we sing ! Thou that keep'st us chaste and free As the young spring ; Ever be thy honour spoke, From that place the Morn is broke To that place Day doth unyoke ! [Exeunt all except PERIGOT and AMORET.
Page 323 - With youthful coronals, and lead the dance; No more the company of fresh fair maids And wanton shepherds be to me delightful, Nor the shrill pleasing sound of merry pipes Under some shady dell, when the cool wind Plays on the leaves: all be...
Page 321 - A tragi-comedy is not so called in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is enough to make it no tragedy, yet brings some near to it, which is enough to make it no comedy...
Page 82 - Accursed man, Thou bought'st thy reason at too dear a rate ; For thou hast all thy actions bounded in With curious rules, when every beast is free : What is there that acknowledges a kindred, But wretched man ? Who ever saw the bull Fearfully leave the heifer that he liked, Because they had one dam ? Pan.
Page 320 - I'll tell you frankly, You love above my means to thank ye. Yet, according to my talent, As sour fortune loves to use me, A poor shepherd I have sent In home-spun gray for to excuse me ; And may all my hopes refuse me, But when better comes ashore, You shall have better, newer, more...
Page 324 - And hanging script of finest cordevan. But thou art gone, and these are gone with thee, And all are dead but thy dear memory : That shall out-live thee, and shall ever spring, Whilst there are pipes, or jolly shepherds sing. And here will I in honour of thy love, Dwell by thy grave, forgetting all those joys That former times made precious to mine eyes, Only rememb'ring what my youth did gain In the dark hidden virtuous use of herbs.
Page 204 - Oh, uncle, uncle. I feel I cannot stay long: yet I'll fetch it, To keep your noble life. Uncle, I am heart-whole, And would live. Car. Thou shalt, long I hope. Hengo. But my head, uncle ! Methinks the rock goes round. Enter MACER and JUDAS below, and stand apart.
Page 325 - And through these thick woods, have I run, Whose bottom never kissed the sun Since the lusty spring began ; All to please my master Pan, Have I trotted without rest To get him fruit ; for at a feast He entertains, this coming night, His paramour, the Syrinx bright. — But, behold, a fairer sight ! By that heavenly form of thine, Brightest fair...

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