Atr. The wine will lighten it. Atr. Why should they be so strange? They are near akin. Thy. Ákin? Atr. As possible; father and son not nearer. Atr. Does not good wine beget good blood? Atr. Your lips then and the wine may be akin. Help him to heave it to his head, that 's well. (THYESTES drinks. A clap of thunder. The lights go out.) heaven upon our Thy. What ponderous crimes pull heads? Nature is chok'd with some vast villany, And all her face is black. Atr. Some lights! some lights! Thy. The sun is stunn'd, and reels 'tween night and day; Old Chaos is return'd. Atr. It is to see A young one born, more dreadful than herself, And to restore her empire. Thy. What do you mean? Atr. Confusion I have in thy bowels made. Thy. Dire thoughts, like Furies, break into my mind With flaming brands, and show me what he means. Where is Philisthenes? Atr. Ask thy own bowels: Thou heardst 'em groan, perhaps they now will speak. Thy. Thou hast not, tyrant-what?—I dare not ask Atr. I kill'd thy son, and thou hast drunk his blood. THE MARRIED BEAU, A COMEDY: BY THE SAME AUTHOR, 1694. Wife tempted: she pleads religion. Lover. Our happy love may have a secret church BELPHEGOR, A COMEDY : BY JOHN WILSON, 1691. Doria Palace described. THAT thou 'dst been with us at duke Doria's garden, The pretty contest between art and nature; Taught Genoa not to serve; then to behold and then again, within The vast prodigious cage, to see the groves and such a glorious palace! Such picture, carving, furniture! my words And crowd into a storm. DON QUIXOTE, A COMEDY IN THREE PARTS: BY THOMAS D'URFEY, 1694. Dirge, at the hearse of Chrysostom. Reliev'd from love and mortal care; Wars, that do fatal storms disperse, Far from thy happy mansion keep ; |