The Dramatic Works of Thomas Heywood: Royal king and loyal subject. A woman killed with kindness. If you know not me you know nobody, pt. 1-2. The golden age. The silver age. An apology for actors, 1841 (no. 3) (Google eBook)

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Shakespeare Society, 1851
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Page 145 - I should prevail In the least suit ; no, not to speak to you, Nor look on you, nor to be in your presence, Yet, as an abject, this one suit I crave This granted, I am ready for my grave.
Page 62 - They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; For 'tis the sport to have the enginer Hoist with his own petar...
Page 12 - Philip and Mary, by the grace of God, king and queen of England, France, Naples, Jerusalem, and Ireland, defenders of the faith...
Page 161 - I'm now bound, I was so impudent to wish you here ; And once more beg your pardon. Oh ! good man. And father to my children, pardon me. Pardon, O pardon me : my fault so heinous is, That if you in this world forgive it not, Heaven will not clear it in the world to come. Faintness hath so...
Page 156 - If you return unto your master, say (Though not from me ; for I am all unworthy To blast his name so with a strumpet's tongue) That you have seen me weep, wish myself dead : Nay, you may say too, for my vow is passed, Last night you saw me eat and drink my last.
Page 157 - Go, break this lute upon my coach's wheel, As the last music that I e'er shall make, Not as my husband's gift, but my farewell To all earth's joy; and so your master tell!
Page 146 - The blemish of my house, nor my dear love, Could have withheld thee from so lewd a fact, Yet for these infants, these young harmless souls, On whose white brows thy shame is character'd, And grows in greatness as they wax in years ; Look but on them, and melt away in tears.
Page 148 - By word or writing, gift or otherwise, To move me, by thyself, or by thy friends; Nor challenge any part in my two children. So farewell, Nan; for we will henceforth be As we had never seen, ne'er more shall see.
Page 118 - I'll kill the rogue. Wen. Your husband is from home, your bed's no blab. Nay, look not down and blush. [Exeunt WENDOLL and Mrs. ANNE. Nich. Zounds! I11 stab. Ay, Nick, was it thy chance to come just in the nick? I love my master, and I hate that slave: I love my mistress; but these tricks I like not.
Page 147 - tis thine ; I freely give it thee. My tenants by shall furnish thee with wains To carry all thy stuff within two hours : No longer will I limit thee my sight.

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