The Plays of Clara Gazul: Pseud. a Spanish Comedian; with Memoirs of Her Life

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G. B. Whittaker, 1825 - 326 páginas
 

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Página 159 - They took a plough and plough'd him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn was dead. But the cheerful spring came kindly on, And showers began to fall ; John Barleycorn got up again, And sore surprised them all.
Página 160 - And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood, And drank it round and round ; And still the more and more they drank, Their joy did more abound. John Barleycorn was a hero bold, Of noble enterprise, For if you do but taste his blood, 'Twill make your courage rise. 'Twill make a man forget his woe ; Twill heighten all his joy: 'Twill make the widow's heart to sing, Tho
Página 159 - And turn'd him o'er and o'er. They filled up a darksome pit With water to the brim. They heaved in John Barleycorn, There let him sink or swim. They laid him out upon the floor. To work him farther woe. And still, as signs of life appear'd. They toss'd him to and fro.
Página 158 - There were three kings into the East, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and ploughed him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath, John Barleycorn was dead.
Página 159 - His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears, That no one should him wrong. The sober autumn enter'd mild, When he grew wan and pale; His bending joints and drooping head Show'd he began to fail. His colour sicken'd more and more, He faded into age; And then his enemies began To show their deadly rage. They've...
Página 159 - They laid him down upon his back, And cudgell'd him full sore ; They hung him up before the storm, And turn'd him o'er and o'er. They filled up a darksome pit With water to the brim ; They heaved in John Barleycorn, There let him sink or swim.
Página 138 - Warned by each other, we shall resist more sucr cessfully the attacks of the demon. ANTONIO. '• Lord, lead us not into temptation !" such is my prayer at every instant of the day. We are so liable to fall. No matter how much the soul may be on its guard, the enemy of mankind is so wily a serpent, that he will make his way through the smallest opening ; and one single drop of his venom may gangrene a soul for ever.
Página 147 - Your laughter will be changed into weeping— you deny having cast a spell upon the olive-trees of Juana Mendo ? MARIQUITA. How should I know how to cast spells ? ANTONIO. Every sin may be expiated. — Woman, I adjure you, in the name of your Creator, to speak the truth — if you do not wish the death of your soul. MARIQUITA. Surely, if I were a witch, I should long ago have whisked up the chimney away from you. ANTONIO. Reflect and tremble — it is still time — hereafter it will be of no use...
Página 145 - MARIQUITO (laughing). Ah, ah, ah ! Signor Licentiate, of what are you talking to me ? I have sung an English ballad, taught me by a trumpeter of Mackay's regiment, in the army of Lord Peterborough — and, true enough, it is upon the death of John Barleycorn. DOMINGO. Who is John Barleycorn ? one of the spirits of darkness, perhaps?
Página 143 - Licentiate, should I weep and repent, since I have never done any thing bad ? ANTONIO. Nothing bad ? interrogate your conscience ! MARIQUITA. And what has it to reproach me with ? It is true I have committed some little faults, but for which I got absolution last Sunday from the chaplain of the Royal Murcia Infantry.

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