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∆on ∆onzo ∆varez Agonies Alon Alvarez Anguish arriv'd art thou Battel bear Beauty Bliss Blood Bosom Carlos f Crime cruel curs'd Curse Dśmon Dagger dare dead of Night Death Despair didst Distraction Don Carlos dost thou dreadful dropt e'er Enter Alonzo Enter Isabella Enter Leonora Enter Zanga ev'n Eyes fair Leonora Fate Father fear Friend give Glory Grace Grave Groan Guilt hate hear Heart Heav'n Hope Horrors Ifab Innocence Isab know'st leave Leon look Lord lov'd Love Moor Moorish Murder murder'd Nature never Night Nuptials o'er Pain Pangs Passion Pow'r Pray Rage Revenge Ruin satisfy'd SCENE Secret shine Sighs Sight smile Soul speak stab sting sure sweet Tears Tempest thou hast thou shalt Thought thro Torment tremble Twas twill Vengeance Villain Virtue Wherefore Wife World wou'd Wounds
Page 63 - This was the only method to subdue me. Terror and doubt fall on me : all thy good Now blazes ; all thy guilt is in the grave.
Page 44 - This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun, Those skies, through which it rolls, must all have end. What then is man ? the smallest part of nothing. Day buries day, month month, and year the year, Our life is but a chain of many deaths; Can then death's self be fear'd ? our life much rather.
Page 5 - Think you my father too indulgent to me, That he claims no dominion o'er my tears ? A daughter sure may be right dutiful...
Page 13 - She's gone, and I shall see that face no more ; But pine in absence, and till death adore. When with cold dew my fainting brow is hung, And my eyes darken, from my fault'ring tongue Her name will tremble with a feeble moan, And love with fate divide my dying groan.
Page 8 - Don Carlos; My friend, (and never was a friend more dear) Deputed me his advocate in love, To talk to Leonora's heart, and make A tender party in her thoughts for him. What did I do ? 1 lov'd myself.
Page 44 - And is it thus a wedded life begins ? What did I part with, when I gave my heart ? I knew not that all happiness went with it. Why did I leave my tender father's wing, And venture into love...
Page 51 - O, what a sight is here ! How dreadful fair ! Who would not think that being innocent ? Where shall I strike ? who strikes her, strikes himself. My own life-blood will issue at her wound.
Page 3 - Has strove to bury it beneath a heap Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot. Insolent thought ! and like a second blow ! Affronts are innocent, where men are worthless ; And such alone can wisely drop revenge.