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ACTUS Adriana Anamnestes Appetitus Auditus Bartley Beard Boutcher brother Butler Captain Communis Senfus Crapula Curtezan devil dost doth Exeunt Exit eyes Fabel faith father Folly-wit Footman foul friends gentlemen Gum-water Gustus Hairbrain hand Harcop hast hath hear heaven Heuresis hither honest honour Host i'faith i'th Ilford Inesse is't Jerningham Justice Tutchin kiss knave knight lady Lieutenant Lingua lise live lord maid married master master doctor Mendacio merry Millisent mistress Mounchensey ne'er never Olfactus Oliver Small-Jbanks Penitent Brothel Phantasies pr'ythee pray rogue Scarborow SCENA sear sellow Serjeant Sir Arthur Sir Bounteous Sir John Sir Oliver Sir Ralph sirrah sirst Sister Smug Somnus speak sweet Tactus Taffata tell thee there's Thomas Thomas Middleton thou art Throate tricks twill unto villain Visus wench Wentloe what's widow William Rowley William Small William Small-Jbanks wise
Page 254 - Blague, the merry Host of the George, comes in -with them. Host. Welcome, good knight, to the George at Waltham, my free-hold, my tenements, goods and chattels ! Madam, here's a room is the very Homer and Iliads of a lodging, it hath none of the four elements in it ; I built it out of the centre, and I drink ne'er the less sack.
Page 385 - Players ? by the mass, they are welcome ; they'll grace my entertainment well: but for certain players, there thou liest, boy ; they were never more uncertain in their lives ; now up, and now down ; they know not when to play, where to play, nor what to play : not when to play, for fearful fools ; where to play, for puritan fools ; nor what to play, for critical fools. Go, call 'em in. [Exit SEMUS.]—How fitly the whoresons come upo' th
Page 296 - I dn, but to what end ? but hark you, Sir Ralph, I was about to say something; it makes no matter: but hark you, in your ear; the friar's a knave: but God forgive me, a man cannot tell neither ; s'foot, I am so out of patience, I know not what to say. Sir Ralph. There's one went for the friar an hour ago, Comes he not yet? S'foot, if I do find knavery under's cowl, I'll tickle him, I'll ferk him— Here, here, he's here, he's here.
Page 130 - Caesar or great Alexander; Licking my feet, and wondering where I got This precious ointment. How my pace is mended! How princely do I speak! how sharp I threaten! Peasants, I'll curb your headstrong impudence, And make you tremble when the lion roars, Ye earth-bred worms. O, for a looking-glass! Poets will write whole volumes of this scorce183; Where's my attendants? Come hither, sirrah, quickly; Or by the wings of Hermes...
Page 148 - It have it for lying. But hast thou rusted this latter time for want of exercise ? Men. Nothing less. I must confess I would fain have jogged Stow and great...
Page 130 - Measured my head that wrought this coronet They lie, that say complexions cannot change ; My blood's ennobled, and I am transform'd Unto the sacred temper of a king.
Page 26 - He further informed me that he would have given her a coalpit to keep her in clean linen, that he would have allowed her the profits of...
Page 188 - MALONE. 8 — fortune thy foe — ] " Was the beginning of an old ballad, in which were enumerated all the misfortunes that fall upon mankind, through the caprice of fortune.
Page 278 - A sainted,2 contrite, and repentant soul, Ever mortified with fasting and with prayer, Whose thoughts, even as her eyes, are fix'd on. heaven. To draw a virgin thus...
Page 264 - Of as free spirit, and of as fine a temper, As is in England ; and he is a man That very richly may deserve thy love : But, noble Clare, this while of our discourse, What may Mounchensey's honour to thyself Exact upon the measure of thy grace ? Young Clare.