The Works of the British Dramatists: Carefully Selected from Theoriginal Editions, with Biographical Notes, Etc., EtcLee and Shepard, 1870 - 509 Seiten |
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Seite xxxiii
... souls were playing at racket . None other rackets they had in hand , Save every soul a good firebrand ; Wherewith they played so prettily , That Lucifer laughed merrily ; And all the residue of the fiends Did laugh thereat full well ...
... souls were playing at racket . None other rackets they had in hand , Save every soul a good firebrand ; Wherewith they played so prettily , That Lucifer laughed merrily ; And all the residue of the fiends Did laugh thereat full well ...
Seite xlvi
... soul : ah , good gentleman , That e'er you should thus die for an unkind woman ! Will you drink once ere you go ? R. Roister . No , no , I will none . M. Merry . How feel your soul to God ? R. Roister . I am nigh gone . M. Merry ...
... soul : ah , good gentleman , That e'er you should thus die for an unkind woman ! Will you drink once ere you go ? R. Roister . No , no , I will none . M. Merry . How feel your soul to God ? R. Roister . I am nigh gone . M. Merry ...
Seite 44
... soul is immortal ? Gran . Yes . Manes . And the body is the prison of the soul ? Gran . True . Manes . Why then , thus to make my body im- mortal , I put it in prison . Gran . Oh bad ! Psyllus . Excellent ill ! Manes . You may see how ...
... soul is immortal ? Gran . Yes . Manes . And the body is the prison of the soul ? Gran . True . Manes . Why then , thus to make my body im- mortal , I put it in prison . Gran . Oh bad ! Psyllus . Excellent ill ! Manes . You may see how ...
Seite 60
... soul , incensèd with a sudden fire ? What tree , what shade , what spring , what para- dise , Enjoys the beauty of so fair a dame ? Fair Eva , placed in perfect happiness , Lending her praise - notes to the liberal heavens , Struck with ...
... soul , incensèd with a sudden fire ? What tree , what shade , what spring , what para- dise , Enjoys the beauty of so fair a dame ? Fair Eva , placed in perfect happiness , Lending her praise - notes to the liberal heavens , Struck with ...
Seite 61
... soul A sharper sense of honour than thy king ( For love leads princes sometimes from their seats ) , As erst my heart was hurt , displeasing thee , So come and taste thy ease with easing me . Beth . One medicine cannot heal our ...
... soul A sharper sense of honour than thy king ( For love leads princes sometimes from their seats ) , As erst my heart was hurt , displeasing thee , So come and taste thy ease with easing me . Beth . One medicine cannot heal our ...
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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 Mephistophilis Merry miracle plays mistress Mortimer ne'er never night noble PESCARA Philaster Piero play pray prince Psyllus Ralph Re-enter Roister servant Sfor Sirrah 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.