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Alith Alon Alonzo arms bear Belv Belvidera Belville better blood brother cause comes dare dead dear death Don Carlos Enter Erit eyes face fair faith fate father fear fellow fool fortune girl give gone hand Harc hast hate head hear heart Heaven Hold honour hope I'll Jaffier lead leave Leon Leonora live look lord Lucy madam Maria marry mean meet mind Moody Nacky nature never night Old Phil pains peace Peggy Pier Pierre play poor pray REVENGE SCENE senate sister soul Spark Sparkish speak suffer sure talk tears tell thee There's thing thou thought told town true VENICE villain virtue wife Wild wish woman write young Zanga
Seite 74 - Then hear me, bounteous heaven ; Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head, Where everlasting sweets are always springing : . With a continual giving hand, let peace, Honour, and safety, always hover round her ; Feed her with plenty, let her eyes ne'er see A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning : Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest Harmless as her own thoughts, and prop...
Seite 28 - To you, sirs, and your honours, I bequeath her, And with her this, when I prove unworthy — [Gives a dagger. You know the rest: — then strike it to her heart; And tell her, he, who three whole happy years Lay in her arms, and each kind night repeated The passionate vows of still-increasing love, Sent that reward for all her truth and sufferings.
Seite 15 - Lead me, lead me, my virgins, To that kind voice. My lord, my love, my refuge ! Happy my eyes, when they behold thy face ! My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating At sight of thee, and bound with sprightly joys.
Seite 9 - There's not a wretch that lives on common charity But's happier than me : For I have known The luscious sweets of plenty; every night Have slept with soft content about my head, And never wak'd but to a joyful morning ; Yet now must fall like a full ear of corn, Whose blossom 'scap'd, yet's wither'd in the ripening.
Seite 8 - A sterile fortune and a barren bed Attend you both : continual discord make Your days and nights bitter and grievous still : May the hard hand of a vexatious need Oppress and grind you, till at last you find The curse of disobedience all your portion ! Jaf.
Seite 62 - I've lost All my soul's peace; for every thought of him Strikes my sense hard, and deads it in my brains; Wouldst thou believe it? Belv. Speak.
Seite 16 - When banished by our miseries abroad, (As suddenly we shall be) to seek out, In some far climate where our names are strangers, For charitable succour ; wilt thou then, When in a bed of straw we shrink together, And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads ; Wilt thou then talk thus to me ? Wilt thou then Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love ? Belv.
Seite 19 - tis so with me; — For every step I tread, methinks some fiend Knocks at my breast, and bids it not be quiet: I've heard, how desperate wretches, like myself, Have wandered out at this dead time of night To meet the foe of mankind in his walk: Sure I'm so curst, that, tho' of Heaven forsaken, No minister of darkness cares to tempt me.