James Shirley (Google eBook)

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T.F. Unwin, 1888 - English drama - 466 pages
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Page iv - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Page iv - Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
Page xxi - ... cleanly way of poetry, and when other poetts heare and see his good success, I am confident they will imitate the original for their own credit, and make such copies in this harmless way, as shall speak them masters in their art, at the first sight, to all judicious spectators. It may be acted this 3 July, 1633.
Page 169 - Let me look upon my sister now : Still she retains her beauty, Death has been kind to leave her all this sweetness. Thus in a morning have I oft saluted My sister in her chamber : sat upon Her bed and talked of many harmless passages. But now 'tis night, and a long night with her: I shall ne'er see these curtains drawn again Until we meet in heaven.
Page 167 - His soul acquainted ? can he less than tremble, When I lift up my arm to wound his counterfeit? * Witches can persecute the lives of whom They hate, when they torment their senseless figures, And stick the waxen model full of pins. Can any stroke of mine carry less spell To wound his heart, sent with as great a malice ? He smiles, he smiles upon me ! I will dig Thy wanton eyes out, and supply the dark And hollow cells with two pitch-burning tapers ; Then place thee porter in some charnel-house, To...
Page 211 - B. Lady, you are welcome to the spring ; the Park Looks fresher to salute you : how the birds On every tree sing, with more cheerfulness At your access, as if they prophesied Nature would die, and resign her providence To you, fit only to succeed her ! Jut. You express A master of all complement; I have Nothing but plain humility, my lord, To answer you.
Page 44 - Hang fevers ! let's to the tavern, and inflame ourselves with lusty wine ; suck in the spirit of sack, till we be delphic, and prophesy, my bully-rook. Fow. Alas! Aim. A lass ! is that the disease? Drench her, drench her in sack : sick for a lass ! do not fool thyself beyond the cure of Bedlam ; be wise and well again. Fow. You are merry; it seems you have won the lady. Aim. What lady? the lady i' the lobster? I was half sick for a foolish thing called a woman ; a toy took me in the head, and had...
Page 266 - ... birth and honour, since the truest wealth Shines from the soul, and draws up just admirers. I could urge something more. Lady B. Pray do, I like Your homily of thrift.
Page 161 - From their own motion, without the need Of any dull or passive instrument. No, Amidea, thou shalt not bear one scar To buy my life ; the sickle shall not touch A flower that grows so fair upon his stalk...
Page 435 - I have wrecked all my own, To try your charities : now it would be rare, If you but waft me with a little prayer ; My wings that flag may catch the wind ; but 'tis In vain, the mist is risen, and there's none To steer my wandering bark. [Dies.

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