Webster and Tourneur

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T.F. Unwin, 1888 - 432 pages

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Page 92 - To sweetest slumber ! no rough-bearded comet Stares on thy mild departure ; the dull owl Beats not against thy casement ; the hoarse wolf Scents not thy carrion : pity winds thy corse, Whilst horror waits on princes. Vit. Cor. I am lost for ever. Brach. How miserable a thing it is to die 'Mongst women howling! Enter
Page 170 - Let me be a little merry:—of what stuff wilt thou make it ? Bos. Nay, resolve me first, of what fashion ? Duch. Why do we grow fantastical in cur deaihbed ? do we affect fashion in the grave ? Bos. Most ambitiously. Princes' images on their tombs do not lie, as they were wont,
Page 170 - I am Duchess of Malfi still. Bos. That makes thy sleeps so broken : Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, But looked to near, have neither heat nor light. Duch. Thou art very plain. Bos. My trade is to flatter the dead, not the living ; I am a tomb-maker. Duch. And thou comest to make my tomb ? Bos. Yes.
Page 127 - Do not think of them : All discord without this circumference Is only to be pitied, and not feared : Yet, should they know it, time will easily Scatter the tempest. Ant. These words should be mine, And all the parts you have spoke, if some part of it Would not have savoured flattery. Duch. Kneel. Ant. Ha!
Page 125 - If I had a husband now, this care were quit : But I intend to make you overseer. What good deed shall we first remember ? say. Ant. Begin with that first good deed began i' the world After man's creation, the sacrament of marriage : I'd have you first provide for a good husband ; Give him all.
Page 169 - Is he mad too ? Serv. Pray, question him. I'll leave you. [Exeunt Servant and Madmen. Bos. I am come to make thy tomb. Duch. Ha ! my tomb ! Thou speak'st as if I lay upon my deathbed, Gasping for breath : dost thou perceive me sick ? Bos. Yes, and the more dangerously, since thy sickness is insensible.
Page 191 - is not indeed to live ; It is a mockery and abuse of life : I will not henceforth save myself by halves ; Lose all, or nothing. Delio. Your own virtue save you ! I'll fetch your eldest son, and second you : It may be that the sight of his own blood Spread in so sweet a figure
Page 191 - beget The more compassion. However, fare you well. Though in our miseries Fortune have a part, Yet in our noble sufferings she hath none : Contempt of pain, that we may call our own. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.—An Apartment in the Cardinal's Palace. Enter Cardinal, PESCARA, MALATESTI, RODERIGO, and CRISOLAN. Card. You shall not watch to-night by the sick
Page 49 - done her pleadings, that her very judges, her accusers, the grave ambassadors who sit as spectators, and all the court, will rise and make proffer to defend her in spite of the utmost conviction of her guilt ; as the shepherds in Don Quixote make proffer to follow the beautiful shepherdess Martela, ' without reaping any profit out of her
Page 172 - lungs, Would do as much as they do. Bos. Doth not death fright you ? Duch. Who would be afraid on't, Knowing to meet such excellent company In the other world ? Bos. Yet, methinks, The manner of your death should much afflict you : This cord should terrify you. Duch. Not a whit : What would it pleasure me to have my

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