The Ancient British Drama ...

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Walter Scott
W. Miller, 1810 - 614 Seiten
 

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Seite 263 - I filled the jails with bankrupts in a year, And with young orphans planted hospitals, And every moon made some or other mad, And now and then one hang himself for grief, Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll How I with interest tormented him.
Seite 191 - Something still buzzeth in mine ears, And tells me if I sleep I never wake; This fear is that which makes me tremble thus. And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come ? Light.
Seite 544 - False colours last after the true be dead. Of all the roses grafted on her cheeks, Of all the graces dancing in her eyes, Of all the music set upon her tongue, Of all that was past woman's excellence, In her white bosom ; look, a painted board Circumscribes all...
Seite 167 - This which I urge is of a burning zeal To mend the king and do our country good. Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold, Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends As he will front the mightiest of us all?
Seite 186 - I might ! but heavens and earth conspire To make me miserable. Here, receive my crown. Receive it ? no, these innocent hands of mine Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime...
Seite 178 - Treacherous Warwick ! traitorous Mortimer ! If I be England's king, in lakes of gore Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, And stain my royal standard with the same...
Seite 178 - By earth, the common mother of us all, By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof, By this right hand, and by my father's sword, And all the honours 'longing to my crown, I will have heads, and lives for him, as many As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers!
Seite 263 - As for myself, I walk abroad a-nights, And kill sick people groaning under walls : Sometimes I go about, and poison wells; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, See 'm go pinioned along by my door.
Seite 167 - He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn. Did never sorrow go so near my heart As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston ; And could my crown's revenue bring him back, I would freely give it to his enemies, And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend.
Seite 190 - To murder you, my most gracious lord ! Far is it from my heart to do you harm. The queen sent me to see how you were...

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