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believe better bring brother Buck Cape Char child comes daughter dear devil Dick don't door Enter Erit Exit eyes fair father fear fellow fool fortune gentleman girl give Gripe hand happy head hear heart hold honour hope husband I'll keep kind King Lady leave live look Lord madam Maria marry master mean Mech mind Miss never night once passion Phil play poor pray present pretty Puff Quid SCENE servant Sharp Sir John soon speak spirit stay suppose sure talk tell thee there's thing thou thought told true turn what's whole wife wish woman Young Wild
Page 2 - Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence.
Page 2 - But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss, I never heard till now.
Page 25 - But money, wife, is the true fuller's earth for reputations, there is | not a spot or a stain but what it can take out. A rich rogue now-a-days is fit company for any gentleman ; and the world, my dear, hath not such ^ a contempt for roguery as you imagine.
Page 31 - But if I could raise a small Sum Would not twenty Guineas, think you, move him? Of all the Arguments in the way of Business, the Perquisite is the most prevailing. Your Father's Perquisites for the Escape of Prisoners must amount to a considerable Sum in the Year.
Page 30 - A jealous woman believes everything her passion suggests. To convince you of my sincerity, if we can find the ordinary, I shall have no scruples of making you my wife; and I know the consequence of having two at a time. Lucy. That you are only to be hanged, and so get rid of them both.
Page 30 - Married! very good. The wench gives it out only to vex thee, and to ruin me in thy good opinion. 'Tis true I go to the house, I chat with the girl, I kiss her, I say a thousand things to her (as all gentlemen do) that mean nothing, to divert...
Page 233 - When house and land are gone and spent, Then learning is most excellent.
Page 158 - But let concealment like a worm i' th' bud Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a Monument, Smiling at grief.