A Select Collection of Old Plays: Miseries of inforced marriage

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J. Nichols, 1780 - English drama
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Page 254 - Blague, the merry Host of the George, comes in -with them. Host. Welcome, good knight, to the George at Waltham, my free-hold, my tenements, goods and chattels ! Madam, here's a room is the very Homer and Iliads of a lodging, it hath none of the four elements in it ; I built it out of the centre, and I drink ne'er the less sack.
Page 385 - Players ? by the mass, they are welcome ; they'll grace my entertainment well: but for certain players, there thou liest, boy ; they were never more uncertain in their lives ; now up, and now down ; they know not when to play, where to play, nor what to play : not when to play, for fearful fools ; where to play, for puritan fools ; nor what to play, for critical fools. Go, call 'em in. [Exit SEMUS.]—How fitly the whoresons come upo' th
Page 296 - I dn, but to what end ? but hark you, Sir Ralph, I was about to say something; it makes no matter: but hark you, in your ear; the friar's a knave: but God forgive me, a man cannot tell neither ; s'foot, I am so out of patience, I know not what to say. Sir Ralph. There's one went for the friar an hour ago, Comes he not yet? S'foot, if I do find knavery under's cowl, I'll tickle him, I'll ferk him— Here, here, he's here, he's here.
Page 130 - Caesar or great Alexander; Licking my feet, and wondering where I got This precious ointment. How my pace is mended! How princely do I speak! how sharp I threaten! Peasants, I'll curb your headstrong impudence, And make you tremble when the lion roars, Ye earth-bred worms. O, for a looking-glass! Poets will write whole volumes of this scorce183; Where's my attendants? Come hither, sirrah, quickly; Or by the wings of Hermes...
Page 148 - It have it for lying. But hast thou rusted this latter time for want of exercise ? Men. Nothing less. I must confess I would fain have jogged Stow and great...
Page 130 - Measured my head that wrought this coronet They lie, that say complexions cannot change ; My blood's ennobled, and I am transform'd Unto the sacred temper of a king.
Page 26 - He further informed me that he would have given her a coalpit to keep her in clean linen, that he would have allowed her the profits of...
Page 188 - MALONE. 8 — fortune thy foe — ] " Was the beginning of an old ballad, in which were enumerated all the misfortunes that fall upon mankind, through the caprice of fortune.
Page 278 - A sainted,2 contrite, and repentant soul, Ever mortified with fasting and with prayer, Whose thoughts, even as her eyes, are fix'd on. heaven. To draw a virgin thus...
Page 264 - Of as free spirit, and of as fine a temper, As is in England ; and he is a man That very richly may deserve thy love : But, noble Clare, this while of our discourse, What may Mounchensey's honour to thyself Exact upon the measure of thy grace ? Young Clare.

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