The Dramatic Works of Massinger and Ford

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G. Routledge, 1869 - English drama - 662 pages

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Page 7 - Handfuls of gold but to behold thy parents. I would leave kingdoms, were I queen of some, To dwell with thy good father ; for, the son Bewitching me so deeply with his presence, He that begot him must do't ten times more.
Page 309 - So my lord have you, What do I care who gives you ? since my lord Does purpose to be private, I'll not cross him. I know not, Master Allworth, how my lord May be provided, and therefore there's a purse Of gold, 'twill serve this night's expense ; to-morrow...
Page 270 - And though this country, like a viperous mother, Not only hath eat up ungratefully All means of thee, her son, but last thyself, Leaving thy heir so bare and indigent, He cannot raise thee a poor monument, Such as a flatterer or an usurer hath ; Thy worth in every honest breast builds one, Making their friendly hearts thy funeral stone.
Page xxxiv - ... t; these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages — so they call them — that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.
Page xxi - Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse: Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother. Death, ere thou hast slain another Fair and learn'd and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Page 1 - 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 299 - To whom great countesses' doors have oft flew open, Ten times attempted, since her husband's death, In vain, to see her, though I came — a suitor ? And yet your good solicitorship, and rogue Wellborn, Were brought into her presence, feasted with her ! But that I know thee a dog that cannot blush, This most incredible lie would call up one On thy buttermilk cheeks.
Page 1 - He could not run division with more art Upon his quaking instrument, than she, The nightingale, did with her various notes Reply to...
Page 295 - But be supplied elsewhere, or want thus ever. Only one suit I make, which you deny not To strangers ; and 'tis this. [ Whispers to her.
Page 295 - These trespasses draw on suits, and suits' expenses, Which I can spare, but will soon beggar him. When I have harried him thus two or three year, Though he sue in forma pauperis, in spite Of all his thrift and care, hell grow behindhand.

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