Dramatic Works, Volume 1

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G. Ramsay, 1811 - English drama

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Page 125 - Failed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute, And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness, To see the conqueror upon her hearse To weep a funeral elegy of tears ; That, trust me, my Amethus, I could chide Mine own unmanly weakness, that made me A fellow-mourner with him.
Page 292 - Tempt my displeasure ? Pen. I must leave the world, To revel in Elysium ; and 'tis just To wish my brother some advantage here. Yet by my best hopes, Ithocles is ignorant Of this pursuit. But if you please to kill him, Lend him one angry look, or one harsh word, And you shall soon conclude how strong a power Your absolute authority holds over His life and end.
Page xlii - Ford was of the first order of poets. He sought for sublimity, not by parcels, in metaphors or visible images, but directly where she has her full residence, in the heart of man; in the actions and sufferings of the greatest minds.
Page 275 - Put me to any penance for my tyranny, And I will call thee merciful. Pen. Pray kill me, Rid me from living with a jealous husband ; Then we will join in friendship, be again Brother and sister. — Kill me, pray ; nay, will ye ? Ith.
Page 125 - Whom art had never taught clefs, moods, or notes, Should vie with him for mastery, whose study Had busied many hours to perfect practice : To end the controversy, in a rapture Upon his instrument he plays so swiftly, So many voluntaries, and so quick, That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of differing...
Page 327 - Bloody relater of thy stains in blood, For that thou hast reported him, whose fortunes And life by thee are both at once snatch'd from him, With honourable mention, make thy choice Of what death likes thee best; there's all our bounty. — But to excuse delays, let me, dear cousin, Intreat you and these lords see execution Instant before ye part. Near. Your will commands us. Org. One suit, just queen, my last: vouchsafe your clemency, That by no common hand I be divided From this my humble frailty.
Page 10 - Twixt my perpetual happiness and me ? Say that we had one father; say one womb — Curse to my joys ! — gave both us life and birth ; Are we not therefore each to other bound So much the more by nature ? by the links Of blood, of reason ? nay, if you will have't, Even of religion, to be ever one, One soul, one flesh, one love, one heart, one all ? Friar.
Page 54 - Shakspeare's : if phraseology is to be changed as words grow uncouth by disuse, or gross by vulgarity, the history of every language will .be lost ; we shall no longer have the words of any author ; and, as these alterations will be often unskilfully made, we shall in time have very little of his meaning.
Page 334 - I danc'd forward ; But it struck home, and here, and in an instant. Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcries Can vow a present end to all their sorrows : Yet live to vow new pleasures, and out-live them. They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings : Let me die smiling.
Page 276 - Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks, And free me from this chaos of my bondage ; And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure. Pen. Who is the saint you serve ? Ith. Friendship, or [nearness] Of birth to any but my sister, durst not Have moved that question ; 'tis a secret, sister, I dare not murmur to myself.

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