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affection Amet appears Bass beauty believe better blood brother Cleo comes copy court Crot dare daughter death delight Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fear follow Ford fortunes Friar Gifford printed give hand hast hath hear heart heaven Here's honour hope I'll Ithocles John kind king lady leave live look lord Love's Sacrifice master means Melancholy mind nature never noble observed once Orgilus Parma Penthea piece pity play poet poor pray present prince reason Rich SCENE sister soul speak stage sure sweet tell thank thee thou thou art thought true truth turn Vasques young youth
Page 17 - Into a pretty anger, that a bird, Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes, Should vie with him for mastery, whose study Had busied many hours to perfect practice ; To end the controversy, in a rapture Upon his instrument he plays so swiftly So many voluntaries, and so quick That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of differing method Meeting in one full centre of delight.
Page xlv - tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors Will catch at us, like strumpets ; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o' tune : the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels : Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I
Page 118 - In tears, and (if't be possible) of blood : Beg heaven to cleanse the leprosy of lust That rots thy soul ; acknowledge what thou art, A wretch, a worm, a nothing : weep, sigh, pray Three times a day, and three times every night ; For seven days' space do this, then, if thou find'st No change in thy desires, return to me ; I'll think on remedy.
Page 166 - 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...
Page xlix - But view her in her glorious ornaments, Attired in the majesty of art, Set high in spirit with the precious taste Of sweet philosophy...
Page 262 - Pen. You had been happy ! Then had you never known that sin of life Which blots all following glories with a vengeance, For forfeiting the last will of the dead, From whom you had your being.
Page 16 - He could not run division with more art Upon his quaking instrument, than she The nightingale did with her various notes Reply to.
Page 116 - Shall a peevish sound, A customary form, from man to man, Of brother and of sister, be a bar 'Twixt my perpetual happiness and me ? Say that we had one father, say one womb (Curse to my joys !) gave both us life and birth ; Are we not, therefore, each to other bound So much the more by nature ? by the links Of blood, of reason ? nay, if you will have it, Even of religion, to be ever one, One soul, one flesh, one love, one heart, one all ? FRIAR : Have done, unhappy youth ! for thou art lost.
Page 202 - Early and late, the tribute which my heart Hath paid to Annabella's sacred love, Hath been these tears, which are her mourners now! Never till now did nature do her best, To...
Page 210 - And this is one thing that may make latter ages worse than were the former : for the vicious example of ages past, poison the curiosity of these present, affording a hint of sin unto seduceable spirits, and soliciting those unto the imitation of them, whose heads were never so perversely principled as to invent them. In things of this nature silence commendeth History ; 'tis the veniable part of things lost, wherein there must never rise a Pancirollus* nor remain any register but that of Hell."]...