The Works of the British Dramatists: Carefully Selected from the Original Editions with Biographical Notes, Etc., EtcW.W. Swayne, 1870 - 509 Seiten |
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Seite 180
... Cler . Have you got the song yet perfect , I gave you , boy ? Page . Yes , sir . Cler . Let me hear it . Page . You shall , sir ; but i'faith let nobody else . Cler . Why , I pray ? Page . It will get you the dangerous name of a poet in ...
... Cler . Have you got the song yet perfect , I gave you , boy ? Page . Yes , sir . Cler . Let me hear it . Page . You shall , sir ; but i'faith let nobody else . Cler . Why , I pray ? Page . It will get you the dangerous name of a poet in ...
Seite 181
... Cler . Nay , if I have thy authority , I'll not leave yet . Come , the other are considerations , when we come to have grey heads and weak hams , moist eyes and shrunk members . We'll think on ' em then ; then we'll pray and fast . True ...
... Cler . Nay , if I have thy authority , I'll not leave yet . Come , the other are considerations , when we come to have grey heads and weak hams , moist eyes and shrunk members . We'll think on ' em then ; then we'll pray and fast . True ...
Seite 182
... Cler . Out of his senses . The waits of the city have a pension of him not to come near that ward . This youth practised on him one night like the bellman ; and never left till he had brought him down to the door with a long sword ; and ...
... Cler . Out of his senses . The waits of the city have a pension of him not to come near that ward . This youth practised on him one night like the bellman ; and never left till he had brought him down to the door with a long sword ; and ...
Seite 183
... Cler . Nay , then , you are mistaken , Dauphine : I know where he has been well trusted , and dis- charged the trust ... Cler . When were you there ? Daup . Last night : and such a Decameron of sport fallen out ! Boccace never thought of ...
... Cler . Nay , then , you are mistaken , Dauphine : I know where he has been well trusted , and dis- charged the trust ... Cler . When were you there ? Daup . Last night : and such a Decameron of sport fallen out ! Boccace never thought of ...
Seite 184
... Cler . Did you ever hear such a wind - sucker as this ? Daup . Or such a rook as the other , that will betray his mistress to be seen ! Come , ' tis time we prevented it . Cler . Go . ACT II - SCENE I. A Room in MOROSE'S House ...
... Cler . Did you ever hear such a wind - sucker as this ? Daup . Or such a rook as the other , that will betray his mistress to be seen ! Come , ' tis time we prevented it . Cler . Go . ACT II - SCENE I. A Room in MOROSE'S House ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Absalon Adur Antonio Apel art thou Bacon BACURIUS Bessus blood brother captain Cler Custance dare Daup dear death devil Dion dost doth drama Duch Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes Face fair faith father Faustus favour fear Feli Ferd fool fortune Fran Fressingfield Gaveston gentlemen give grace hand hath hear heart heaven hell honour hope Isab Joab king La-F Lacy lady live look lord Macrinus madam Mardonius Marry Master Master Doctor Master Humphrey Mellida Mephistophilis Merry miracle plays mistress Mortimer ne'er never night noble PESCARA Philaster Piero play pray prince Psyllus Ralph Re-enter Roister servant Sfor sister soul speak sweet sword tell thee Theoph there's thine thing thou art thou hast thou shalt thought Thra Tigranes True twill unto Wendoll wife woman word
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 120 - Her lips suck forth my soul, see where it flies! Come Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Seite 108 - And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher, Why should I grieve at my declining fall? — Farewell, fair queen; weep not for Mortimer, That scorns the world, and, as a traveller, Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
Seite 163 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed : Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace : Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Seite 112 - Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it. Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss? O, Faustus, leave these frivolous demands, Which strike a terror to my fainting soul!
Seite l - With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin. All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes. She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas ! become of me?
Seite 317 - 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.
Seite 56 - He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of God ; and he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds ; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.
Seite 56 - Although my house be not so with God; yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure: for this is all my salvation, and all my desire, although he make it not to grow.
Seite 110 - All things that move between the quiet poles Shall be at my command : emperors and kings Are but obeyed in their several provinces, Nor can they raise the wind or rend the clouds ; But his dominion that exceeds in this Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man, A sound magician is a mighty god : Here, Faustus, tire thy brains to gain a deity.
Seite 114 - And long ere this I should have slain myself, Had not sweet pleasure conquered deep despair, Have not I made blind Homer sing to me Of Alexander's love and CEnon's death? And hath not he that built the walls of Thebes With ravishing sound of his melodious harp, Made music with my Mephistophilis ? Why should I die then, or basely despair ? I am resolved.- Faustus shall ne'er repent— Come, Mephistophilis, let us dispute again, And argue of divine Astrology.