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added appearance arms asked aunt Deborah believe better Blanch Brainshaw called Carew cause chair Charles cheek child close comes companion continued course dear door doubt dropped exclaimed expression eyes face father fear feel feet Fulton gaoler gipsies give Grace hand head hear heard heart hope hour inquired interrupted keep keeper kind king lady laughing leave length less light lips listen live look Macrone majesty manner Mary master means meet Merton mind morning mother Ned's never night object observed once passed perhaps poor present prisoner quickly ratcatcher rejoined remained remarked repeated replied replied Mr Fulton returned round scarcely seemed short side silence soon sound speak squire stood stop strong sure tell There's things thought tone tongue truth turned vicar voice wish young
第25页 - If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions : I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
第257页 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear ; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
第61页 - I AM the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.
第44页 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide.
第176页 - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
第11页 - What years, i' faith ? Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; let still the woman take An elder than herself ; so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are.
第155页 - And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? P Act iii..
第172页 - Murder? Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is ; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
第21页 - For no degrees, unless they" employ it, Can ever gain much, or enjoy it : A gift that is not only able, To domineer among the rabble, But by the laws empower'd to rout And awe the greatest that stand out ; Which few hold forth against, for fear Their hands should slip, and come too near : For no sin else, among the Saints, Is taught so tenderly against.