The Works of Thomas Otway: Venice preserved, or, a Plot discovered. The atheist, or, the Second part of The soldier's fortune. The poet's complaint of his muse, or, A satire against libels. Notes. Windsor Castle, in a monument to our late Sovereign, Charles II, of ever blessed memory. Epistles, translations, prologues, and miscellaneous poems. Letters

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Seite 14 - I receiv'd you ; Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits ; My house, my table, nay, my fortune too, My very self was yours ; you might have...
Seite 20 - I pass'd this very moment by thy doors, And found them guarded by a troop of villains; The sons of public rapine were destroying; They told me, by the sentence of the law, They had commission to seize all thy fortune, Nay, more, Priuli's cruel hand hath sign'd it. Here stood a ruffian with a horrid face Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate Tumbled into a heap for public sale. There was another making villainous jests At thy undoing; he had ta'en possession Of all thy ancient, most domestic ornaments,...
Seite 241 - There in a gloomy hollow glen she found A little cottage, built of stickes and reedes In homely wize, and ,wald with sods around...
Seite 27 - Hell within him; for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step, no more than from himself, can fly By change of place...
Seite 23 - Oh woman, lovely woman ! Nature made thee To temper man : we had been brutes without you ; Angels are painted fair, to look like you : There 's in you all that we believe of Heaven ; Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Seite 245 - And as she lay upon the durtie ground, Her huge long taile her den all overspred, Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound, Pointed with mortall sting.
Seite 14 - Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine : Like a rich conquest in one hand I bore her, And with the other dash'd the saucy waves That throng'd and press...
Seite 66 - You, my lords and fathers (As you are pleas'd to call yourselves) of Venice ; If you sit here to guide the course of justice, Why these disgraceful chains upon the limbs That have so often labonrM in your service ? Are these the wreaths of triumph ye bestow On those that bring you conquests home, and honours?
Seite 8 - Of liberty, which yet they ne'er must taste of. They say, by them our hands are free from fetters; Yet whom they please, they lay in basest bonds ; Bring whom they please to infamy and sorrow ; Drive us, like wrecks, down the rough tide of power, Whilst no hold's left to save us from destruction.
Seite 30 - Were there one wise or honest, I could kill him For herding with that nest of fools and knaves. By all my wrongs, thou talk'st as if revenge Were to be had, and the brave story warms me.

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