Cæsar in Egypt; Flora; or, Hob in the well; School boy; Xerxes; Venus and Adonis; Papal tyranny; Damon and Phillida

Priekinis viršelis
J. Rivington and Sons, C. Bathurst, T. Longman, T. Lowndes, T. Caslon, W. Nicoll, and S. Bladon., 1777

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280 psl. - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
286 psl. - Is death more cruel from a private dagger Than in the field, from murdering swords of thousands ? Or does the number slain make slaughter glorious ? GIBBER.
92 psl. - Hob. The woman's turn'd vool, I think — let me zee; if the devil be in the well, I'll vetch 'en out on't — here's a rout indeed — Wauns ! I think the devil be in the bucket— But now I have got 'en half . way, I'll knaw what zort of a devil 'tis...
299 psl. - Hadft none, faring what thy nature prompted ! How oft have evil deeds, for want of means To give them practice, dy'd in the conception ? But thou being prefent to the curft occafion, Ere fcarce the thought could ripen into purpofe, Thy ftony heart made offer of the deed, And mock'd my fears with impious refolution ! Hub. My gracious liege ! I beg you be compos'd ! K. John, Hadft thou but fliook thy head, or made a paufe, When I obfcurely murmur'd my difquiet ; Hadft thou but fliewn one fign of...
283 psl. - I had a thing to say, — but let it go ; The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton, and too full of gauds, To give me audience.
302 psl. - Confin'd within thefe lonely, ragged walls ! Was it for this thy truitlefs mercy fpar'd me ? Ah ! what is life, depriv'd of liberty ? It fliall be fo, thefe walls no more fhall hide me : The moat beneath I've fathom'd with a line, And find its depth proportion'd to my ftature ; At worft, the danger's lefs attempting to efcape, Than pining here in hourly fear of death : Take courage, heart ! whatever chance befal thee Cannot be lorer than my fuff 'ring here.
263 psl. - ... made her pompous dowry! Thou dost abuse my ear, it cannot be! I have a Monarch's oath to right my cause, And 'twere to wrong thy master, to believe thee!' 'Const. My hopes! bid the lost wretch with broken limbs, Extended on the wheel, to hope for mercy! Hopes I have none!—' 'Const. Content! to thy vile wrongs be patient! no; Were thou, in temper wayward, foul in feature, Deform'd, that ev'n thy birth disgrac'd thy mother! Yet, as my child, my heart would feel my usage! But as thou art the pride...
255 psl. - The wafting winds, in audible perception, Set all the terrors of the field before me ! This jar of drums ! the lofty trumpets...
298 psl. - Rome then, that has ruin'd, muft redeem me ! The terms — 'tis true are harfli and terrible To honour ! to the vulgar meritorious ! They think the bulls of Rome the voice of heav'n ! And tremble for their king that dares conteft them ! The pride of...
264 psl. - You muft! you dare ! you fhall ! I will not go! Tell them, they've taught my forrow to be proud : There is a dignity in...

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