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Appius Ario bawd Bell Bird Birdlime blood Brack captain Card Claud Claudius Comp Contarino court cuckold cut-works dead death Delio devil Doll dost doth Duch duchess DUCHESS OF MALFI duke Duke of Florence Enter Exeunt Exit father fear Ferd Flam for't Fran gentlemen give hand hast hath havo hear heart heaven honest Honey honour husband i'the Icil Icilius in't Jane John Webster Julia Jutt knave lady Leon Lictors Linstock live look lord marry Master merry Mist Mistress Mont ne'er never night noble Norf o'the old copy on't Pietro play poison'd pray prince Rome SCENE Sir Thomas Wyatt soul speak strange sweet tell Tenterhook thee there's thing Tho 4to thou art troth twas twill unto Virginia Wafer wench what's wife woman Wyatt Zanche
Page 89 - Not a whit: What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds ? or to be smothered With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls ? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits...
Page 88 - Of what is't fools make such vain keeping? Sin their conception, their birth weeping, Their life a general mist of error, Their death a hideous storm of terror. Strew your hair with powders sweet, Don clean linen, bathe your feet, And (the foul fiend more to check) A crucifix let bless your neck : 'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day ; End your groan, and come away.
Page 306 - Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, Portend success in love. O, if Jove's will Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay, Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate Foretell my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh; As thou from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet hadst no reason why.
Page 88 - I pray thee, look thou giv'st my little boy Some syrup for his cold, and let the girl Say her prayers ere she sleep. [CARIOLA is forced out by the Executioners.] Now what you please: What death? Bos. Strangling; here are your executioners. DUCH. I forgive them: The apoplexy, catarrh, or cough o' th' lungs, Would do as much as they do.
Page 65 - twill multiply love there. You do tremble : Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh, To fear more than to love me. Sir, be confident: What is't distracts you? This is flesh and blood, sir; 'Tis not the figure cut in alabaster Kneels at my husband's tomb. Awake, awake, man! I do here put off all vain ceremony, And only do appear to you a young widow That claims you for her husband, and, like a widow, I use but half a blush in't.
Page 76 - Shine on him till he's dead- let dogs and monkeys Only converse with him, and such dumb things To whom nature denies use to sound his name; Do not keep a paraquito, lest she learn it; If thou do love him, cut out thine own tongue, Lest it bewray him.
Page 73 - Ferd. So I will only study to seem The thing I am not. I could kill her now, In you, or in myself; for I do think It is some sin in us Heaven doth revenge By her. Card. Are you stark mad ? Ferd. I would have their bodies Burnt in a coal-pit with the ventage stopped, That their cursed smoke might not ascend to Heaven...
Page 61 - You never fix'd your eye on three fair medals Cast in one figure, of so different temper. For her discourse, it is so full of rapture, You only will begin then to be sorry When she doth end her speech, and wish, in wonder, She held it less vainglory to talk much...
Page 60 - I'll tell you, If too immoderate sleep be truly said To be an inward rust unto the soul, It then doth follow want of action Breeds all black malcontents; and their close rearing, Like moths in cloth, do hurt for want of wearing. Delio. The presence 'gins to fill: you promised me To make me the partaker of the natures Of some of your great courtiers. Ant. The lord cardinal's, And other strangers' that are now in court ? I shall.
Page 71 - Like a tame elephant : — still you are to thank me : — Thou hadst only kisses from him and high feeding ; But what delight was that ? 'twas just like one That hath a little fingering on the lute, Yet cannot tune it :• — still you are to thank me. Julia. You told me of a piteous wound i' the heart And a sick liver, when you wooed me first, And spake like one in physic.