The Earl of Gowrie: A Tragedy ...

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T.C. Newby, 1845 - 198 pages
 

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Page 183 - Listen, James, King of Scots ! If there is left one touch of knightly truth, One thought of honour, and the priceless debt That the great sound of your ancestral name Lays on your soul ; 'tis now that you may shew them, I have you in my hands ; a word of mine Venges my father's blood, my mother's wrongs, My country's sufferings. I may say the word, I may incarnadine my filial sword, And gain a nation's blessing on the blow...
Page 107 - ... fountains, and melodious songs Of tranced nightingales in the orange shades) Grew richer with their sighs. The maiden's name Was Juliet ; and because she could not be His bride in peace, she drank a mystic draught To make her sleep, and look as if she died. They buried her, though still upon her cheek Lived the pale reflex of a damask rose, For life was at her heart. At dead of night Came down her lover to the tomb ; Ah, me ! He saw but the cold features of his love, And thought that she was...
Page 176 - The woman's mad. Oh ! if you e'er knew pity, I pray you, cousin, pity me. God knows, I would give all I have to please you. What Do you require of me ? As I am a king, A man, a gentleman, I'll not deceive you. Say what you'd have me do, — I'll do it straight. I'll take no council, save from you and John — I'll give him what high office he desires, Chancellor — treasurer — whate'er he likes—- But let me go.
Page 174 - Arran is dead, Or I would hang him high as Haman's gallows. I always liked you, cousin, and your sons, Both buirdly gallants. John's a famous scholar ; I like him. He's an excellent Latinist. I pray you let mfi go to Restalrlg, He'll think I'm long of coming.
Page 183 - Gowrie. If I ope The prison doors, 'twill be to loose again The enemy of our house ; the vengeful foe Who spares not. James. Oh ! you wrong me, wrong me much. I'll love you better than myself. You'll be Dearer than life ; tru.st me this once, this once ! Oowrie. I trust you not. But higher duties claim me ; I may not do a deed, that the wild Arab Would shudder at, in his wind-shaken tent, You are my guest ; unwished, but still my guest.
Page 181 - I went, sweet cousin, — and I killed a buck Antlered, as if the forest of Braemar Had lent him two young oaks to be his horns. You never saw a fatter. Zookers, cousin, His legs were like an ox's. He would weigh Against two swine. I wish you had been there.
Page 176 - ... sponsor to the christening Of the sharp axe. Man ! look into your heart ; Can I forgive you ? Is my blood all milk ? You slew my husband, basely, meanly slew him. Can I, his wife — his widow, look on you With other eyes than these ? You leave me not Till one of us is dead. You hear me, Huthven.
Page 181 - Why did you leave your arm'd companions And trust you in my house ? James. I meant it well. I thought you'd like it. I meant nothing ill, So help me ! Eestalrig will tell you, cousin, I meant no harm. But pray you let me go. My train will soon be here.
Page 181 - I meant it well. I thought you'd like it. I meant nothing ill, So help me ! Eestalrig will tell you, cousin, I meant no harm. But pray you let me go. My train will soon be here. Gowrie. Who form your train ? Will they take open stand, and play the men 1 Are they all armed ? Jamet.
Page 105 - ... descriptive poetry, it is not from any incapacity to deal with such themes. Catherine is describing to her friend her solitary life in her father's rocky fastness at Fast Castle : — CATHERINE. ' Ah! Beatrix, though from my window lattice, I see the great broad gun aink everv night Beneath the sea, unc!

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