The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher: A wife for a month. The lovers progress. The pilgrim. The captain. The prophetess

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University Press, 1907
 

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第 278 頁 - ... go seek some other dwelling, For I must die. Farewell, false love ! thy tongue is ever telling Lie after lie. For ever let me rest now from thy smarts ; Alas, for pity, go, And fire their hearts That have been hard to thee ! Mine was not so. Never again deluding love shall know me, For I will die ; And all those griefs that think to overgrow me, Shall be as I. For ever will I sleep, while poor maids cry : — ' Alas, for pity, stay, And let us die With thee ! men cannot mock us in the clay.
第 105 頁 - The greatest attribute of Heaven is mercy; And 'tis the Crown of Justice, and the glory Where it may kill with right, to save with pity.
第 300 頁 - Come hither, you that love, and hear me sing Of joys still growing, Green, fresh and lusty as the pride of spring, And ever blowing. Come hither, youths that blush and dare not know What is desire, And old men worse than you, that cannot blow One spark of fire, And with the power of my enchanting song Boys shall be able men, and old men young.
第 233 頁 - Pray take a peece of Rosemary. Mir. I'll wear it But for the Lady's sake, and none of yours ; " and in the first scene of Fletcher's Woman's Pride the stage direction is, " The Parties enter with Rosemary as from a Wedding;" and so in the Pilgrim —
第 278 頁 - Away, delights, go seek some other dwelling, For I must die. Farewell, false love, thy tongue is ever telling Lie after lie. For ever let me rest now from thy smarts ; Alas! for pity, go, And fire their hearts That have been hard to thee: mine was not so. Never again deluding love shall know me, For I will die ; And all those griefs that think to overgrow me Shall be as I. For ever will I sleep while poor maids cry, "Alas! for pity, stay, And let us die With thee: men cannot mock us in the clay.
第 263 頁 - Tis a grave, Gapes to have Those poor fools that long to prove. Tell me more, are women true ? Yes, some are, and some as you. Some are willing, some are strange, Since you men first taught to change. And till troth Be in both, All shall love, to love anew.
第 203 頁 - Thou canst not sleep so sweetly; For so I can say my prayers, and then slumber. I am not proud, nor full of wine (This little flower will make me fine), Cruel in heart (for I shall cry, If I see a sparrow die) : I am not watchful to do ill, Nor glorious to pursue it still: Nor pitiless to those that weep; Such as are, bid them go sleep. Do, do, do, and see if they can. And after laying down further to Roderigo what he calls a 'mere chronicle of [his] mishaps...
第 115 頁 - gainst a cold : Your beds of wanton down the best, Where you shall tumble to your rest; I could wish you wenches too, But I am dead, and cannot do. Call for the best the house may ring, Sack, white, and claret, let them bring, And drink apace, while breath you have; You'll find but cold drink in the grave : Plover, partridge, for your dinner, And a capon for the sinner, You shall find ready when you're up, And your horse shall have his sup : Welcome, welcome, shall fly round, And I shall smile, though...
第 267 頁 - Angelo, then musick (Such as old Orpheus made, that gave a soul To aged mountains, and made rugged beasts Lay by their rages ; and tall trees that knew No sound but tempests, to bow down their branches And hear, and wonder ; and the Sea, whose surges Shook their white heads in Heaven, to be as mid-night Still, and attentive...

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