Thomas Otway

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Unwin, 1888 - 392 Seiten
 

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Seite iv - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Seite 295 - The honour of my house ; you have done me wrong. You may remember (for I now will speak, And urge its baseness), when you first came home From travel, with such hopes as made you...
Seite 360 - I'm the wretched'st creature E'er crawled on earth; now if thou hast virtue, help me, Take me into thy arms, and speak the words of peace To my divided soul, that wars within me, And raises every sense to my confusion; By Heaven, I'm tottering on the very brink Of peace; and thou art all the hold I've left.
Seite 296 - T is to me you owe her : Childless you had been else, and in the grave Your name extinct, — no more Priuli heard of. You may remember, scarce five years are past, Since, in your brigantine, you sailed to see The Adriatic wedded by our Duke ; And I was with you.
Seite 353 - Sir, if possible, Lead me where my own thoughts themselves may lose me, Where I may doze out what I've left of life, Forget myself and this day's guilt and falsehood. Cruel remembrance, how shall I appease thee ! [Exit guarded. Noise without : More traitors ; room, room, make room there. Duke. How's this ? guards ! Where are our guards ? shut up the gates, the treason's Already at our doors.
Seite 350 - Venice, honour, or its safety ? Priu. Could words express the story I have to tell you, Fathers, these tears were useless, these sad tears That fall from my old eyes ; but there is cause We all should weep ; tear off these purple robes, And wrap ourselves in sackcloth, sitting down On the sad earth, and cry aloud to Heaven.
Seite 375 - 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...
Seite 302 - I think no safety can be here for virtue, And grieve, my friend, as much as thou to live In such a wretched state as this of Venice; Where all agree to spoil the public good, And villains fatten with the brave man's labours.
Seite 298 - Home and be humble, study to retrench; Discharge the lazy Vermin of thy hall, Those pageants of thy folly, Reduce the glittering trappings of thy wife To humble weeds, fit for thy little state; Then to some suburb cottage both retire; Drudge, to feed loathsome life: get brats, and starve • Home, home, I say.
Seite 306 - Oh woman ! lovely woman ! Nature made thee To temper man : we had been brutes without you...

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