The works of Beaumont and Fletcher, with an intr. by G. Darley (Google eBook)

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1840
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Page 499 - Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man, Commands all light, all influence, all fate; Nothing to him falls early or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
Page 47 - They are no more. Car. Where is your conquest then ? Why are your altars crown'd with wreaths of flowers, The beasts with gilt horns waiting for the fire ? The holy Druides composing songs Of everlasting life to Victory ? Why are these triumphs, lady ? for a may-game ? For hunting a poor herd of wretched Romans ? Is it no more ? Shut up your temples, Britons, And let the husbandman redeem his heifers ; Put out...
Page 75 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks...
Page 88 - Wife. Ay, George, if he could convert him ; but a giant is not so soon converted as one of us ordinary people. There's a pretty tale of a witch, that had the devil's mark about her, (God bless us !) that had a giant to her son, that was called Lob-lie-by-the-fire ; didst never hear it, George? Cit. Peace, Nell, here comes the prisoners...
Page 77 - Why should not I, then, pursue this course, both for the credit of myself and our company ? for amongst all the worthy books of achievements, I do not call to mind that I yet read of a grocer-errant: I will be the said knight.
Page 48 - Run, run, Bonduca ; not the quick rack swifter, The virgin from the hated ravisher Not half so fearful ; not a flight ' drawn home, A round stone from a sling, a lover's wish, E'er made that haste that they have. By the gods...
Page 389 - Given ear-rings we will wear, Bracelets of our lovers' hair, Which they on our arms shall twist, With their names carved on our wrist ; All the money that we owe We in tokens will bestow ; And learn to write, that, when 'tis sent, Only our loves know what is meant Oh, then pardon what is past, And forgive our sins at last ! What, mends she ? Hero.
Page 94 - I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, Invisible to all men but thyself", And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand, And stand as mute and pale as death itself.
Page 93 - I would not be a serving-man To carry the cloak-bag still, Nor would I be a falconer The greedy hawks to fill ; But I would be in a good house, And have a good master too ; But I would eat and drink of the best, And no work would I do.
Page 431 - This man loves to eat good meat j always provided, he do not pay for it himself. He goes by the name of the Hungry Courtier ; marry, because I think that name will not sufficiently distinguish him (for no doubt he hath more fellows there) his name is Lazarillo ; he is none of these same ord'nary eaters, that will devour three breakfasts, and as many dinners, without any prejudice to their bevers, drinkings, or suppers ; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger, and doth hunt more after novelty than...

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