The Broken Heart

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J.M. Dent and Company, 1906 - 143 pages

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Page 55 - Tempt my displeasure ? Pen. I must leave the world To revel in Elysium, and 'tis just To wish my brother some advantage here ; Yet, by my best hopes, Ithocles is ignorant Of this pursuit : but if you please to kill him, Lend him one angry look or one harsh word, And you shall soon conclude how strong a power Your absolute authority holds over His life and end.
Page 31 - I'll tear my veil of politic French off, And stand up like a man resolved to do : Action, not words, shall show me. — O Penthea ! [£xit. Pen. He sighed my name, sure, as he parted from me : I fear I was too rough. Alas, poor gentleman He looked not like the ruins of his youth, But like the ruins of those; ruins.
Page 75 - Sorrows mingled with contents, prepare Rest for care; Love only reigns in death ; though art Can find no comfort for a BROKEN HEART.
Page 51 - Glories Of human greatness are but pleasing dreams, And shadows soon decaying. On the stage Of my mortality, my youth hath acted Some scenes of vanity, drawn out at length By varied pleasures, sweeten'd in the mixture, But tragical in issue.
Page 73 - ... fortunes And life by thee are both at once snatch'd from him, With honourable mention, make thy choice Of what death likes thee best, there's all our bounty. But to excuse delays, let me, dear cousin, Intreat you and these lords see execution Instant before you part.
Page 63 - When he hath lost his mate ; and yet some say He must be dead first : 'tis a fine deceit To pass away in a dream ! indeed, I've slept With mine eyes open, a great while. No falsehood Equals a broken faith ; there's not a hair Sticks on my head but, like a leaden plummet, It sinks me to the grave : I must creep thither ; The journey is not long.
Page 69 - O, no more, no more, too late Sighs are spent ; the burning tapers Of a life as chaste as fate, Pure as are unwritten papers, Are burnt out : no heat, no light Now remains ; 'tis ever night. Love is dead ; let lovers...
Page 36 - Wrong'd soul, thy prayers are heard. Pen. Here, lo, I breathe, A miserable creature, led to ruin By an unnatural brother! Ith. I consume In languishing affections for that trespass ; Yet cannot die. Pen. The handmaid to the wages...

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