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Books Books 1 - 10 of 77 on And, when your march begins, let one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry,....
" And, when your march begins, let one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, "She's dead." The soldiers shout; you then, perhaps, may sigh, And muster all your Roman gravity: Ventidius chides; and straight your brow clears up, As I had never been. "
The British Drama: A Collection of the Most Esteemed Tragedies, Comedies ... - Page 455
1832
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The Busy Body: A Comedy

Susanna Centlivre - 1797 - 112 pages
...dear int'rest pulls too strong for these Weak arms to hold you here [Tahts his hand. Go, leave me, soldier, (For you're no more a lover) leave me dying;...one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, She's dead I The soldiers shout. You then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your Roman gravity; Ventidius...
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Bell's British Theatre, Volume 16

English drama - 1797
...dear int'rest pulls too strong for these Weak arms to hold you here [Takes his haul, Go, leave me, soldier, (For you're no more a lover) leave me dying;...one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, She's dead I The soldiers shout. You then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your Roman gravity ; Ventidius...
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The British drama

British drama - 1804
...dear interest pulls to strong for these Weak arms to hold you here — [Takes his /land. Go, leave me, soldier, (For you're no more a lover) leave me dying...one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, ' She's dead !' The soldiers shout. You then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your Roman gravity; Ventidius...
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The British Drama: pt. 1-2. Tragedies

English drama - 1804
...dear interest pulls to strong for these Weak arms to hold you here — [Takes his hand. Go, leave me, soldier, (For you're no more a lover) leave me dying...when your march begins, let one run after, Breathless ahuost for joy, and cry, ' She's dead !' The soldiers shout. You then perhaps may sigh, And muster...
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The British Drama: Comprehending the Best Plays in the ..., Volume 1, Issue 1

English drama - 1804
...dear interest pulls to strong for these Weak arms to hold you here — [Takeshlshund. Go, leave me, soldier, (For you're no more a lover) leave me dying;...me all pale and panting from your bosom, And, when yihir march begins, let one run nlter, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, ' She's dead !' The soldiers...
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Sharpe's British Theatre, Volume 16

English drama - 1805
...too stroug for these i Weak arms to hold you here [Takes his Sand. Go, leave me, soldier, (For yon're no more a lover) leave me dying; Push me all pale and panting from your hosom, And when your inarch hegius let oue run after, Breathltfs almost for joy, and cry, She's dead...
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The British Theatre; Or, A Collection of Plays: Which are Acted at the ...

Mrs. Inchbald - English drama - 1808
...dear int'rest pulls too strong for these Weak .arms to hold you here [Takes his Hand. Go, leave me, soldier, (F'or you're no more a lover) leave me dying...one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, " She's dead !" The soldiers shout. You then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your Roman gravity ;...
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The Works of John Dryden: Now First Collected in Eighteen Volumes ..., Volume 5

John Dryden - English literature - 1808
...dear interest pulls too strong, for these Weak arms to hold you here. [Takes his hand* Go ; leave me, soldier ; (For you're no more a lover :) leave me...one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry — she's dead : The soldiers shout ; you then, perhaps, may sigh, And muster all jour Roman gravity:...
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Rule a Wife and Have a Wife: A Comedy in Five Acts

John Fletcher, David Garrick, Mrs. Inchbald, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra - 1808 - 78 pages
...dear ir.t'rest pulls too strong for these \Veak arms to hold you here \Takcs his Hand. Go, leave me, soldier, (For you're no more a lover) leave me dying;...all pale and panting from your bosom, And when your inarch begins let one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, " She's dead !" The soldiers shout....
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The British Theatre; Or, A Collection of Plays: Which are Acted at the ...

Mrs. Inchbald - English drama - 1808
...your march begins let one run after, Breathless almost for joy, and cry, " She's dead !" The soldiers shout. You then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your...gravity; Ventidius chides, and straight your brow clears up, As I had never been. Ant. Gods ! 'tis too much ! too much for man to bear! Cleo. What, is't for...
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