Dramatic Works of John Ford ...

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J. Murray, 1827

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Page 468 - ... than myself, Must I for that be made a common sink, For all the filth and rubbish of men's tongues To fall and run into ? Some call me Witch, And being ignorant of myself, they go About to teach me how to be one ; urging, That my bad tongue (by their bad usage made so) Forespeaks their cattle, doth bewitch their corn, Themselves, their servants, and their babes at nurse. This they enforce upon me ; and in part Make me to credit it ; and here comes one Of my chief adversaries.
Page 468 - And why on me ? why should the envious world Throw all their scandalous malice upon me ? 'Cause I am poor, deform'd, and ignorant, And like a bow buckled and bent together By some more strong in mischiefs than myself; Must I for that be made a common sink For all the filth and rubbish of men's tongues To fall and run into...
Page 106 - The king sent in the greater diligence, not knowing whether she might be with child, whereby the business would not have ended in Perkin's person. When she was brought to the king, it was commonly said, that the king received her not only with compassion, but with affection ; pity giving more impression...
Page 469 - What is the name, where, and by what art learn'd ? What spells, what charms, or invocations, May the thing call'd Familiar be purchased ? 1 am shunn'd And hated like a sickness : made a scorn To all degrees and sexes.
Page 126 - We'll lead them on courageously ; I read A triumph over tyranny upon Their several foreheads. Faint not in the moment Of victory ! our ends, and Warwick's head, Innocent Warwick's head, (for we are prologue But to his tragedy) conclude the wonder Of Henry's fears ;7 and then the glorious race Of fourteen kings, Plantagenets, determines In this last issue male...
Page 405 - Mongst kids shall trip it round ; For joy thus our wenches we follow. Wind, jolly huntsmen, your neat bugles shrilly, Hounds make a lusty cry; Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely, Then let your brave hawks fly. Horses amain, Over ridge, over plain, The dogs have the stag in chase : 'Tis a sport to content a king. So ho ho ! through the skies How the proud bird flies, And sousing kills with a grace ! Now the deer falls ; hark ; how they ring ! DRINKING SONG.
Page 508 - I'm in charity with all the world. Let me for once be thine example, Heaven ; Do to this man as I him free forgive, And may he better die and better live.
Page 380 - tis the ravished nightingale. 'Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu,' she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick song! who is't now we hear? None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat, Poor robin redbreast tunes his note; Hark how the jolly cuckoos sing, Cuckoo to welcome in the spring!
Page 91 - More loth to part with such a great example Of virtue than all other mere respects. But, sir, my last suit is, you will not force From me what you have given, — this chaste lady, Resolved on all extremes.
Page 417 - CAST away care, he that loves sorrow Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow: Money is trash; and he that will spend it, Let him drink merrily, Fortune will send it.

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