The Dramatic Works and Poems of James Shirley, Volume 3

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Murray, 1833 - 1 pages
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Page 340 - I know not where he is. But in some bower Within a garden he is making chaplets, And means to send me one ; but I'll not take it; I have flowers enough, I thank him, while I live. Her. But do you love your governor? Duch. Yes, but I'll never marry him ; I am
Page 355 - So lovely were the wounds, that men would say, " They could endure the bleeding a whole day." He has but few friends lately ; think o" that; Hell come no more; and others have his fate.
Page 347 - Lord. Here is some touch of grace. Car. In greater proof of my pure thoughts, I take This first, and with my dying breath confirm My penitence ; it may benefit her life, But not my wounds. Oh, hasten to preserve her ; And though I merit not her pardon, let not Her fair soul be divorced.
Page 148 - The thought of life unpleasant, which does court Thy dwelling here, with all delights that nature And art can study for thee? Rich in all things Thy wish can be ambitious of; yet all These treasures nothing to thy mother's love, Which, to enjoy thee, would defer awhile Her thought of going to heaven.
Page 347 - 1 Lord. Strange, he should have a good thing in such readiness. Car. 'Tis that, which in my jealousy and state. Trusting to false predictions of my birth, That I should die by poison, I preserv'd For my own safety ; wonder not, I made That my companion was to be my refuge. Enter Servant,
Page 348 - gave her last. King. Thou'rt not so horrid. Dvch. Ha! some cordial. Car. Alas, no preservative Hath wings to overtake it; were her heart Lock'd in a quarry it would search, and kill Before the aids can reach it. I am sure You shall not now laugh at me. King. How came you by that poison
Page 302 - the prelates not to push their Car. This woman has a spirit, that may rise To tame the devil's: there's no dealing with Her angry tongue; 'tis action and revenge Must calm her fury. Were Columbo here, I could resolve ; but letters shall be sent To th* army, which may wake him into sense Of
Page 150 - in your blood for ever ! Speak it once, But once again. Marp. Were it my latest breath, Thou art his, and mine. Har. Enough ; my tears do flow, To give you thanks for't. I would you could resolve me But one truth more: why did my lord Gotharus Call me the issue of his blood?
Page 282 - man, and may shew well at distance. His talk will fright a lady ; War, and grimFaced Honour are his mistresses ; he raves To hear a lute ; Love meant him not his priest.— Again your pardon, madam. We may talk, But you have art to choose, and crown affection. [Cel. and
Page 339 - Duch. I pray, sir, tell me, For I can understand, although they say I have lost my wits ; but they are safe enough, And I shall have them when the Cardinal dies ; Who had a letter from his nephew, too, Since he was slain.

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