The British theatre; or, A collection of plays: which are acted at the Theatres Royal, Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and Haymarket ... (Google eBook)

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Mrs. Inchbald
Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1808 - Drama
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Page 20 - What prospect of success from an apostate? On whom I cannot look without disdain ; And who will read her shame upon my brow. The hardest trial of a generous mind Is to court favours from a hand it scorns. Cha. Think it is Lusignan we seek to serve.
Page 44 - To give me any comfort, if she could ; Lost to herself as quickly I shall be To all the world Horrors come fast around me ; My mind is overcast the gath'ring clouds Darken the prospect I approach the brink, And soon must leap the precipice ! Oh ! Heav'n ! [Kneels. While yet my senses are my own, thus kneeling...
Page 35 - But from that blessed day I never saw him more yet still to this, I bow, as to the relics of my saint : Each morn I drop a tear on every bead, Count all the glories of Gustavus o'er, And think I still behold him.
Page 32 - Heaven forbid that you should ever know A mother's sorrow for an only son. Her joy, her bliss, her last surviving comfort ! When every hour she trembles for his life! Your power o'er Pyrrhus may relieve my fears. Alas, what danger is there in a child, Sav'd from the wreck of a whole ruin'd empire 1 Let me go hide him in some desert isle : You may rely upon my tender care To keep him far from perils of ambition : All he can learn of me, will be to weep.
Page 28 - ... shed ! How will she then, In bitterness of heart, reproach my name! Then, to complete her woes, will I espouse Hermione Twill stab her to the heart ! Phcsn.
Page 30 - Oh ! this separation Has made you dearer, if it can be so, Than you were ever to me. You appear Like a kind star to my benighted steps, To guide me on my way to happiness : I cannot miss it now.
Page 19 - A temple sav'd us, till the slaughter ceas'd ; Then were we sent to this ill-fated city, Here, in the palace of our former kings, To learn, from Saracens, their hated faith, And be completely wretched. Zara, too...
Page 14 - The slavish habit best becomes me now. Hard fare and whips, and chains may overpow'r The frailer flesh, and bow my body down : But there's another, nobler part of me, Out of your reach, which you can never tame.
Page 36 - I was preserv'd but to be made a slave ; I often writ to my hard father, but never had An answer ; I writ to thee too / Isa.
Page 43 - Ob, happy ! happy thou, Who thus can sleep ! I never shall sleep more If then to sleep be to be happy, he, Who sleeps the longest, is the happiest ; Death is the longest sleep Oh, have a care!

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